Obsessions...

He came into the kitchen ever so quietly that he startled me as I stood poised, ladle in hand, dueting with David, or was it Loga, while we were well into the second CD. He had that look in his eyes, making me terribly conscious of my uncombed mess, the faded baju kelawar and the smell of lamb curry clinging on to my body. Also, I was very conscious of the fact that the children were still at home. So, ladle in hand, I was ready to fight him off. Instead, in a very quiet and calm voice he said, “Look into my eyes,” and like a fool, and already mesmerised, I did.

“Look into my eyes,” he repeated. Its been quite a while and I was getting quite uneasy and a tad suspicious of his intentions, too early in the morning and all that.

“Look into my eyes,” he was persistent and raised his hands in front of my face, in the manner of Kenny Craig, the hypnotist in Little Britain.

“Look into my eyes. You are going to forget this song. You are going to hate the AlleyCats and never play their ............”

The ladle fell from my hand and I managed to look away just in time before I fell under his spell! How could he! It had always been the Alleycats that accompanied my daily humdrum in the kichen, entertaining me from my newly acquired CD player, specially bought for moi kitchen. They had been the inspiration for the spread that I produce daily on the table and he wants them to stop singing for me? My daughter phoned from Cairo and the first sentence was, “Mama, you’re still listening to them?” T, the usually so calm and sensible T hurt me so much when he said, “Aren’t you bored with the same songs, Mama?” Are they trying to tell me something?

I knew it would come to this and without shame I admit: My name is Kak Teh and I am an Alleycats addict!

It has only been what...three months and its not as if I ‘ve been playing every song – only three or four favourite ones, again and again and again. Is that so wrong? Yes, so David and Loga are the flavour of the moment. It has always been like that, once I get something into my systems, its kind of difficult to flush them out. The rest around me will have to endure...earplugs and all. My husband did whisper to David when we were having dinner, “Its not so much your singing, er nothing personal, but its when she starts singing too, especially when she’s got the headphone on!” Oh, dear!

Anyway, its not just the Alleycats! There’s my obsession with anything chocolatey! I’ll give just one or two examples. When Fererero Roche first came into the market, I had nothing else but...and couldnt get enough of them. He bought two big boxes as we were going to visit friends. Then he said, don’t cook anything as we were going to eat out. But he came back late , you see. Not my fault at all. I sat there, watching the TV, seven months pregnant, and looked at the two boxes just beckoning and inviting me. Within one hour, I finished one box and in the following hour, the second one became history. By the time my husband came back, I was so sick that until now, I do not want to see another Ferrero Roche, not even the advertisement. And that was 22 years ago! It was the same with Cocoa Dusted Almond Chocolate that melts in your mouth and explodes in all manners that is sinful to your system. It used to be availble at such horrendous price only during Christmas in wicked little packages that sort of wink at you when you walk past. Now, its everywhere – even at Tesco’s. Then its the chocolate truffle cake that you could only get at those smart cafes of Grosvenor House Hotel at exorbitant price per slice. We used to make several visits there as no where else could offer anything so wickedly delicious, until of course my husband did a survey and found Maison Boquillon which offered a whole chocolate truffle cake with chocolate dust topping, for a mere £15.00. So, that would be it... for every occassion – birthday, dinner, tea, something to take to friends’....it’ll be chocolate truffle cake! And then came Galaxy, cheap but a gift from heaven. While in labour with my fourth, my husband bought a few bars and we ate in between contractions. He just knew how to dilate , er I mean, delight me.

Oh, the list seems to be endless where chocolates are concerned. But, I was also and still into cheese too. Cheese roll, cheese cakes, spring onion flavoured crackers with soft creamy cheese and better still Boursin. I could break down and cry if I dont get my weekly dose of soft creamy cheese., especially the one from Marks & Sparks.

And not forgettting salt beef sandwiches, of course. I’d never forget that cold wintry night, when my hubby trudged back to the shop in central London, just because the lady loves Salt Beef! And all because he came back and bragged that he just ate them at the office!

When Subway sandwiches was all the rave, I ‘d queue up patiently just for its mozzarella cheese topped freshly baked bread that smells yummy, with tuna mayo filling with generous dollops of more mayo..sigh! A friend shook her head in amazement when I took the bus around Holborn searching for another Subway because the one next to the uni ran out of mozzarella topped bread.

Aaaahh, did I tell you about Thai Sing?? Thai Sing Laksa Paste? I counted my lucky stars the day I stumbled upon this dollop of heaven in a jar at Tawana Thai Supermarket in Chepstow Road. These little darlings were tucked somewhere between satay sauce and habhal kicap that you could almost missed them. I then introduced it to my chums at Rantauan.com and had members from all over the world drooling their way to oriental supermakets in LA, San Francisco, Melbourne, Germany and Holland, in search of Thai Sing. The sales report for last year must have been quite a nice surprise for the manufacturers as it registered a surge in sales around the world.

So, you can imagine, once I get on to something, a good song, a nice recipe...that will be all the family and cats will hear and eat.

But, how my family indulges me! My husband especially, but he has a cunning way of exorcising these obsessions out of me...but, of courselah, he remains my all time obsession.