Food for the thought

January 2009

My stomach growled for the umpteenth time when I was on the verge of completing my lab report. Well, this will be due next week, might as well continue this after lunch, I thought. I gave in to my inner beast’s demand and headed for the nearest cafeteria at the library. It has been months since I last been to library’s cafeteria.

In the midst of the usual afternoon lunch atmosphere, I tried to locate my favourite claypot stall. All that there were used to be was an empty counter and no stoves. Weird, I thought. That claypot stall, especially, used to enjoy good business. Why the closure?

“… Sigh.. you know what… The library’s who’s who don’t like the way we do our business… Especially when we used our stoves… Maybe they do not wanna get the windows oily or sth else…” I recalled the owner sighed melancholically to me few months ago.

Poor Uncle Claypot.

Well, there’s nothing else like a simple meal of chicken rice. With that thought, I immediately made my queue to the chicken rice stall.

RM 3.50. Ka-chink! A tray with the standard yellow coloured rice, choppings of chicken, salsa and soup was soon landed on my table.

After said my prayers, I picked up the spoon and began to scoop the rice. Hm? Something is wrong. The spoon is embedded deep in the mound of rice. Stuck. There’s some difficulty in pulling out the spoon without having to lift the entire mound of rice. The rice’s texture is mushy and sticky. Was it me or the rice’s usual fragrance is absent? I dared a mouthful. The whole stuff is neither porridge nor rice. Maybe a derivation from the mixture of porridge and rice or rice re-cooked with too much water. I do not want to conclude.

Fine. Then I tried to pierce the chicken meat with my fork. Whoa. The chicken was not tender at all and it appeared to be dried up. This cannot be good, I groaned. Better dip it in salsa to drown the advent of unwanted taste in my mouth.

As I chewed on the chicken meat, a surge of sour sensation spread throughout my mouth. What the……!? The whole salsa was overpowered by vinegar! I could not take it anymore. I quickly sipped my soup; in an effort to wash that vinegar taste away.

Looks like the chicken rice operator cannot fail to surprise me. I almost spewed my mouthful contents across the table. The soup is overwhelmed by a “generous” amount of pepper.

Blistering barnacles, I muttered. I was on a tight budget and couldn’t afford to buy another meal for lunch. My stomach growled again. Without much hesitation I gulped the whole chicken rice – minus the stupid salsa and sucky soup.

After the “ordeal”, I quickly made my way to the library, walking past unfinished trays of the same chicken rice. With the last glance over my shoulder, I vowed not to return to that conniving chickenshit chop chop conning stall.