Today’s menu, my first chicken cooking ever:
Fry garlic and onion in canola oil until brownish, put in chicken cut in small cubes, add salt, black pepper, throw in sliced champignon, then add sweet soy sauce to taste. Pour that over (cooked) jasmine rice, add some chicken broth (with onion, salt, a hint of sugar, black pepper, and a bit of sesame oil) onto rice; and several small cubes of fresh tomato on top. Eat.
Nyum. I found out that slicing chicken meat is not much different from slicing raw salmon. Except that sometimes I would have to bone the salmon as well for raw meals. Somehow, the fact that the chicken was filleted and in a box made it feel unreal to the point that it didn’t feel like meat.
I thought of Margaret’s easter tradition – and that she said many of her friends would usually only come to her easter location (I imagined a rocky hill or piece of land – from what she told us) for the eating part, avoiding killing-the-goat-by-slicing-its-neck part.
I suppose it’s a reality that we now live in unreality.