We’re making a mess. A huge mess.
Heck, we are a mess.
There are eggplant bits on the table, stray grains of rice everywhere, there is a can of shrimp we cannot open due to the lack of a can opener, a bowl of what seems to be oily water we spooned out from the pot of overly watery soup, and I’m still trying to figure out how to fry rice in a miniature antique-looking frying pan.
It is almost 4 p.m. and we, in a moment of being overly gung-ho and extremely stupid, have invited this (extremely talented cook) lady over for dinner at 6 p.m. at “our place”, with “our place” being the third floor of Loose Hall.
How stupid, kan?
Two more hours, and we are far from ready.
Kan cheong time!
(Why, you would ask, am I here writing in my blog if we have so much left to do?)
(It is because, I would reply, we only have this many cooking utensils and I’m sitting here, waiting for my friend to finish cooking her Iranian eggplant dish.)
Yah yahhhh, Kan Cheong Time!