Typical Weekend

My weekends usually begin with the desire to eat half boiled eggs. I used to hate eating half boiled eggs. Maybe it was the way it was forced upon my sis & I when we were young, causing us to believe that it was brain food. I was fed three quail’s eggs daily from when I was three years of age right up till I was seven. Imagine the cholestrol I have in my system. It probably went to my brain to build mass. Haha, quail’s eggs I love, but not chicken’s eggs.

It wasn’t until several years ago, that I’d learnt to appreciate everything that my late father loved. Papayas, sambal belacan, petai (aiyo….yah, it’s true), durian (couldn’t be more true!), cencalok, chilli padi, grilled mackerel, nasi kandar, shallots, onions & garlic. And half boiled eggs.

There’s something to eating half boiled eggs, I tell you. It always make me reminisce the familiar feel, the travels with my dad, shooting at the gun club, nasi lemak at Harun’s & marble cake at Yut Kee. Everywhere we went, dad would have his half boiled eggs. And I would ask silly questions like ‘how does the yolk become a chicken, daddy???’

So I went to Yut Kee. A quaint coffeeshop in a road that my dad called ‘fragrant dung road’ (go figure), which still preserves things of old. The nostalgia of eating half boiled eggs with my dad & sisters & the anticipation of going somewhere after that, the dread of dad starting a long & meaningful conversation with Uncle Jack’s father who was the owner of the place & then, all of a sudden……the eggs became tasty again.

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