Friday, February 10, 2012

Cubaan Pertama ~ Buih Buih Cintaku


Resepi:
4 Biji putih telur
5 Sudu Gula
Esen Vanilla
20 gram agar2 (or 12 gram)
1 liter air
Susu cair (Pewarna Putih)
Pewarna (Suka hati la nak warna apa)

Cara-Cara:
1. Pukul telur putih sehingga kembang. Jika diterbalikkan mangkuk, buih tidak jatuh. Masukkan esen vanilla. 2. Putar. (Sila guna mesin, kalau putar ngan tangan memang 'tough' muscle).
3. Sambil tu masak agar2 tadi bersama 1 Liter air. (Jangan bazir masa)
4. Tambahkan gula. Kacau.
5. Asingkan adunan kepada 3 bahagian (atau nak 4 bahagian ke)
6. Campurkan buih tadi secawan ke dalam adunan agar2 yang telah dimasak.
7. Campurkan pewarna.
8. Tuang lapisan pertam dan letakkan ke dalam peti sejuk beku. (Tunggu dengan penuh sabar. Sambil2 tu basuhla bekas2 yang digunakan untuk masak agar2 tadi)
9. Agak2 dah sejuk bahagian atas (lapisan nipis agar), bolehlah lapiskan dengan lapisan kedua.
10. Ulang langkah 8 dan seterusnya.

Sebenarnya puding buih ni tak sepatutnya ada layer yang clear tu... So, beberapa faktor penting untuk menghasilkan puding buih yang terbaik adalah:

  • Sukatan agar agar dan 'buih' mesti sama rata. Bila dicampurkan agar agar dan buih mestilah keseluruhan buih tu meliputi agar agar...

  • Lapisan kedua dan ketiga mestilah dituang sebelum agar2 betul betul mengeras. So, lapisan puding akan melekat dengan baik.

  • Jangan lupa buat 'sos' nya... Kalau nak sediakan sos, maka puding kena sedikit tawar. Jangan terlampau manis. (Iklan Cegah Diabetes sebelum terlambat)
Itu saja episod masak memasak bersama 'Cooking for Dummy'.. Jumpa lagi di edisi akan datang (n_n)v
Even a 1000 cups of coffee with a friend it is too little (n_n)v

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Apple of My Eyes Forever

Don’t get the wrong idea. He is not Rosyam Nor. He is my father. (as if you see him as the actor).. If not, I might be hallucinating. This is the only photo I kept. My father in his young age. Strong and tall. No moustache (even today). Both of his son, inherited that eyebrow. Thick eyebrow. And that look as well. Nothing much about my father, as we separated since I was 12 years old.
We shared less experienced together, but I can tell that he is a good father. Every time he went for work, he never forget to give us pocket money (not much, 50 cent each) and he will get home almost six. And we had dinner around that big table. And he didn’t talk much. He enjoys watching TV and rarely had a long conversation with us, but he is watching over us. I never find him hang out with his friend at night. If he’s working out of state, he will bring us to A&W for celebration, maybe every week. And let us enjoy, I don’t know if my mum does. But we have. To let us know that he never too far from us and never left us outside his mind. He bought me a sandal, Ninja Turtle. Red sandals and I love that sandals so much as I could still feel it on my feet. It was comfortable.
I remembered he bought me, a white expensive satin Kebaya for Hari Raya, matching hairclips and heels. That was when I am 11 years old. The last Hari Raya as a complete family. I missed the moment we woke up and get dressed. Shake his hand and greet both of them. As an adorable couple and loving...
Nothings last forever. Even he has married to other woman, he is the same father as he was before. The only things that change was the call, from “abah” to “papa”. And we can’t get too close to him, to get loved and protected. As I grew older, and he also.. I feel the gap grows bigger, and can’t even say “I love u dad”… Seldom call him. Maybe once a year? Or never?

I noticed that I had my mum’s forehead, my mum’s smile and I didn’t know if I had resembled her that much. Except for her long hair.. I can’t keep my hair that long, and I kind of jealous of that hair. I guess, one of my younger sisters inherited that one.
That cloth, my mum passed to me when I was 12 and I somehow, love that cloth so much. Being the second child in family, such a fortune. The first daughter.. I had everything. New clothes, necklace which I remembered so much. It hurt my neck and I’ve been scolded by mum every time for biting the pendant.. as my hobby. And I always lost my earring every time I woke up from sleep. Too much accessories, I felt suffocated. And, now I kind of 180 transform. I hate to wear any gold and necklace. I didn’t feel myself suit with the gold color.
Mum had always protected me from any danger. And, crying. That explained why I’m always in her lap. In most photos. She always reminds me about me being naughty, but an intelligent daughter exceeding others. Lay on me all her ambition that she never reach, and hoping I will someday make her proud. She motivated me each day, in studies and even in love. I never kept secrets from her. Even a tiny bug. I wish I will have long lasting life with her. So she could see how I perform, how far I’ve reach and how I manage my family. Our family.
This is me and my brother, the only brother. He is sort of naughty and stubborn. He is apple of my dad’s eyes till today. Even he always blame me for everything (jealous maybe), he is the one who protected me from naughty boy. I remembered him as a strong brother. Never pissed him off. I remembered the time that I’ve lost my Power Rangers’ Watch, a gift from dad for both of us… And one of my classmates stole it. I was crying but can do nothing. I let him know and the next day, he grabs that boy’s school uniform and few buttons loose from it. And warned him. And that boy had never shown up in front of him. Ever!

This is my younger sisters.  She actually is a better sister than me. I was a bit naughty and not play much role as a sister myself. She is quiet, kind, soft hearted and patience. She stayed home and helped my mum a lot while I act like a boy, playing football and play role as Swordsman all day long with my boys. (when my mother wept her cheeks watching Hindi Movies). As you can see in this photo, what you see is what you get. She had grown up to be a great lady. She studied hard to get where she is now, and for the record, she is stronger than me facing life’s obstacles. I adore her for that, for her patience, for her softness. She resembled mum on that strong will and courage. Less complained and faithful.


And this is my twin. She is 6 years older opps.. younger. (Oh god!! I cant accept this). We like almost the same things but not same people. She grew up, in harsh life as well. I can say that she is strong too. She is quiet (big difference of us). The similarities only in appearance. We had same face, smile.. a bit.. Even mum sometimes wrongly addressed us. I guess she is getting old. But, I know, she must be proud having us as her daughter. One is funny and the other is funnier. If I always keep my mum a company, she is not. She is someone who love to lay alone on bed watching The Big Bang Theory, or maybe Hindi Movies. Hindi? Yes! We all love that. Mum taught us that. Funny. If I am good at making cakes, she is good at making desserts. But we are no good than a chef. Far from it. She hates martial art. She didn’t eat much. If I need someone to talk to, or being crazy, she is my 1st prey. She bleed her ears listening to my complains and anger, I guess. At first, she is dependant.. and for that I’ve ignored her for some time and let her on her own feet. And now she is much independent. And grown up as a better person and child. I bet she might be better than I thought she might be. And I pray for that. That some day, we all have our own successful life. But together as we were before. Long distance, but very close to each others heart.

I wish to stop here for now..got to go! (n_n)V

Even a 1000 cups of coffee with a friend it is too little (n_n)v

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Out of Zone For A Moment

Day 2
Page 184.. I’ve read thought t he novel till page 214 and yet, the lady painted by Robert was still mysterious. My heart pounding, eager to know who is actually he drew in all his painting.
As well as his ex-wife.
There are a few page imagining the some kind of under worldly love but is it Robert? I can’t tell. It is so mysterious. No wonder, Dr. Andrew Marlow break all his rule and principles to get to the root of Robert’s mental illness cause.
I have missed a few calls and SMS, drowning into this mystery for almost two days. I’ve regretted why I didn’t read this book earlier so I could have finish it by now. I’ll send them an apology later for not even answering their call of SMS. I rarely ignore my surrounding… I can put my work as an exception as I ignore most of moving things when I’m working.
***
Mary. Who Robert always mentioned, dead? I have to keep reading to know is Mary is former student of Robert? Is it Mary? Or Beatrice?
Poor Kate, to have married that guy.
Does Beatrice who falls in love with Olivier Vignot? 1978?
A relationship between nephew and an uncle?
Gilbert Thomas painting?
The one that Robert tried to stab?
I began to read more and more.. My effort hasn’t gone to the vain. Mystery of Mary solved. Yes. She is the one who Robert run away with, but she isn’t the lady in the painting. Robert has leaved that lady as well as he leave his wife, Kate for Mary.
Is this what we call Karma. The day Yo built your own happiness in spite of others tears, you will feel the same. Should I feel pity for Mary? No. I shall say, it deserved you very well.
***
I’ve read through almost 200 pages today, yet the Ms Melancholy (if I can call her) hasn’t revealed yet.  And, I fall asleep with open book on my hand. The sound of key, wake me up. My housemate going out for a date I guess. And, before off to the kitchen, I’ve to tap off the pipe which left un tap accidently by her. Not as negligence as I am who left the keys hanging on the gate last two days. This has left me abandoned or dumped outside my own house.
Leave off the books open and heading to the kitchen. Thinking of something to cook, fo a bachelor lady like me. Most probably enjoy my lunch alone on the couch in front of newly bought, but old fashioned notebook.
I’m planning to continue reading this evening, at better place, calmer and windy place – Taman Metropolitan.



Even a 1000 cups of coffee with a friend it is too little (n_n)v

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Money Isn't Everything


I've received this poem, from a patient during Chinese New Year celebration.


I didn't give special treatment to them, just being nice and smile no matter how they make you hustle and bustle till the end of the day. It might last an hour and it might last for years. But, it is joyful to see them smile and happy again.


The way I treat them is the way how I imagine people will treat my mother in future. My mother has never been sick or hospitalized. Alhamdulillah. Allah has challenge us with the broken family, but He gave us the health. 


Everytime I saw them at the clinic, I smiled. Even I didn't know any of them. Because "Senyum itu Sedekah"...
I smile because I want to make them feel relieved, not worried. And some of them smile back, some of them don't. But still, it give warmth to my heart.


I smile because I want them to feel welcomed. And like saying: "don't worry..it's gonna be fine."


And for that..they gave me this..


Thank you Allah for giving me an opportunity to enjoy the life (n_n)v


Even a 1000 cups of coffee with a friend it is too little (n_n)v

A Small Give from A Big Heart



Penghargaan buat yang menghargai...


Even a 1000 cups of coffee with a friend it is too little (n_n)v