Fine Dining

Allan and Barbara Pease pointed that men (as opposed to females, not extra terrestrials) need a certain amount of “fire-gazing” time after a long and tiring day at work. The Peases also said that nowadays fire-gazing is no longer, you know, gazing at the fire per se, as in the stone ages. The variation has evolved but the ritual is still the same which is to do a form of activity which would effectively detach the mind from the day’s earlier commitment and doing it so in utter silence. This could be achieved by watching the TV, read the newspaper or checking e-mails. Of course, being a male, I indulge in some of these activities myself. After a whole day of listening to lectures, upon arrival at home I treat myself to the knowledge of what’s happening to the world at large by browsing through the day’s newspaper and flicking through the sports channel on ASTRO. If I have any extra energy, I would poignantly make myself a nice drink. And all this is done without a single word ever leaving my mouth. At this point I thought, I am feeling fine and fabulous as all my fire-gazing needs are fulfilled. That is until today’s lunchtime.

It’s a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The sky is clear and no Hindustani movies on TV. After yesterday’s night out with the family at Sri Hartamas until a little bit past midnight I woke up understandably late today. It was half past 9 and it’s not really late but my father thinks otherwise. Anyway, after lingering around the house with only one eye open I finally managed to prep myself and got treated to a late breakfast. Out of no definite purpose I stumbled into the kitchen and there I saw on the cooking table was a whole fresh siakap (as I understand is Australian Barramundi or just sea bass in English). This to me was a welcome sight. I always refer the siakap as a delicacy. To have one later that day is enticing enough. However, 5 hours later when lunch is served I looked upon the perfectly prepared steamed siakap on the dining table and I felt no excitement. It felt weird and so I took a bite. The taste and texture was gorgeous as usual and yet I felt drab. It was troubling because there I was and not enjoying my meal. There had to be some sort of explanation. Then it occurred to me. I was bored with my food. And the solution wasn’t that hard to figure out. It is fine food.

Recalling my life for the past few months I haven’t been to a fine restaurant for quite some time. This is fire-gazing need. My “long day at work” was having home-cooked meals and the occasional roti naan at Haji Tapah. Somewhere in between is the Colonel’s recipe for fried chickens and a double layered burger called the Big Mac. At this point how much I miss the calming experience of dressing up for dinner and sitting in a relaxing ambience where the waitress or waiter stood by your table, soft spokenly introducing themselves and recommends the day’s chef special with a welcoming smile accompanied by a classical music in the background. As much as I miss the Renaissance or the Regent, I must say the place I miss most is Chili’s. Even though there’s neither calming ambience nor classical music vibrating through the air, the food is just awesome and the service is top notch.

The irony is the reason I no longer have the opportunity to dine at these wonderful places is time. I just don’t have enough of it. I’m in KL 24/7 and yet no time to enjoy the city. When I was at UTP, 240 km away from KL, I would come back at least once in two months and have a very enjoyable meal at a fine restaurant with a few of my friends. I had less time back then and yet I managed. Now, and here, it isn’t so. How come? One obvious reason I could think of is since my usual suspects of friends are now full time employees of various companies the only time to go out and have fun is during the weekends. And, I know you all agree with me on this, the weekend crowd at KL is no fun. During the varsity years, I would come back during the semester breaks and my outings are usually done during the weekdays when the rest of the worker bees are tucked nicely in their respective offices. I used to laugh at them. Now it seems less funny.

There’s only one way out of this. I need to fulfill this urge. I refuse to use the word ‘mengidam’ because I do not want to be in the same category as a woman who is 5 months pregnant. Sadly though, it already Sunday evening and still have a few assignments to work on which means this nuisance will trouble me for the whole of next and the next should I not do something about it. Haih…I tell you this indulgence business really can be bothersome but when you get your hands on it, bellissima, mucho magnifico.