The Kid returned home Monday night from her escapades in New Zealand over the last 8 months. She flew in via Vancouver so of course, we waited for her at the International Arrival gate. Who wouldn’t? She got home, scarfed down her favourite food from one of our favourite restaurants in Ottawa – General Tsao’s Chicken from So Good in Chinatown. After regalling us with tales of the Netherworld, she went to bed. I figured wouldn’t see her for a few days. But there she was the next morning, Burmese cookbook in hand and getting ready to cook for us for a month in compensation for squatter’s rights on the spare bedroom… sorry, her old bedroom. I think I can live with this. No scruples.
Oh. The Burmese cookbook is Hsa*Ba. I’d say it was food like Mom made but Mom, dear soul, didn’t know how to cook Burmese food. It is however food like my Kid makes.
I’ll be back tomorrow with more on the issue of sin, sinning, and being sin.
Thank you for practising,
PS: the title is not a typo. Home Fries are a cultural delicacy, served with thick gravy and curd cheese.