Gimme A Break

My aunt is well-known among family and friends for her fine cooking and baking. Her kitchen is her lab where she would experiment with ingredients and measurements, reworking and rewriting recipes till she achieved perfection.

Of course no lab would be complete without its guinea pigs. That was us. We were made to eat and taste everything - the good, the bad and the ugly – that came out of that lab, er, kitchen.

There were certain recipes that she was particularly passionate about. Like her bread which, for the longest time, emerged more like rocks.

She didn’t want anything - not even her failed experiments – to go to waste, so she made us sit down and finish up everything every time.

The perfectionist in her toiled endlessly on those bread experiments till each and every one of us secretly swore off bread rolls for the rest of our lives!

I remember us falling to our knees and raising our hands to heaven in thanks and praise the day her bread rolls first came out soft enough to be eaten, not cracked open with chisels! Alleluia, our teeth were saved!!

When we gently inquired why she was so passionate about building her recipe collection, she proudly proclaimed that she was intending to pass these secret recipes on to us girls when we came of age.

Yes, only the girls can lay claim, she insists. Lucky us. She does not want her secret recipes falling into the hands of her daughter-in-laws (er, I think you mean daughter-out-laws, auntie) and leaving our family.

You all remember that, y’hear? she warns repeatedly! These must remain in the family! Er, anything you say, auntie, as long as you spare us the rocks!

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