You know there are few friends who would allow an amateur such as myself to make their wedding cake. It would take both sides, to be equally chilled, and equally trusting of my skills, to allow for such a high possibility of not ending up with a cake at all on their big day. Such friends are G&M.
We had planned to move back to Hong Kong this summer, but we had no clue when. It all depended on job offers, school offers, mixed with the dreaded fear of the long flight from Oman to Hong Kong. These uncertainties meant we made lousy goodbyes to our friends in Oman. It had never occurred to me that we were leaving our home, where Peanut made his first steps, the many happy memories of cooking with friends, until seeing the apartment completely empty. Leaving Oman really marks the end of an era for us. My husband and I had moved to Oman to escape the chaos and dramas of living in the big city. After three honeymoon years, we built on our relationship, and we had even started to build ourselves a little family; but we were so far away from everyone that life began to feel a little lonely. So now, it’s time to go back in the wild, to be close to family, and to be back in the rat race. I’ve never been big on goodbyes, because for those who matter, the friendship would never dwindle, I know that somehow we would once again be chilling with a bottle of wine, in 40°C heat. Here’s a little something written by my bestie in the kitchen, G. The next time we meet, it will be the wine fair in Hong Kong.
Cooking with Yan Yi – I do not remember when we first met, but we understood each other in the best way. I so Mediterranean and always in the mood to everyone in my world, with my colors, my tastes and my food, Yan Yi so discreet and silent. I remember our coffees in the mornings, talking about travel and life, but also clothes and fingernails. Not always the arguments were intense, we also can be light. Then from my trip I brought a tool to make Spaghetti alla Chitarra. We amused that morning, I am very much, she maybe a little less. Yan Yi did roll out by hand, the leaf of the homemade pasta, while Peanuts looked at us amused. He stared us wondering what was happening. Another time we were 14 people around a table for a pasta with ragu’ and the football game. For us Italians on Sunday there must be: homemade pasta, ragu’ and the football game. Then for a while we were separated, but thanks to the modern social networking, we had the chance to chat and send pictures: she had to give birth to the little Ayla. On the way back she did not know that the handmade tortellini were waiting for her. And her kitchen was full of Italian noise, and Giovanna joined us. Who better than she could teach the tortellini, a typical Bolognese. Then the Sunday lunch, Italian style: tortellini in brodo. A big table, hosted by Arianna. Then things went fast, hugs and kisses and a huge big cake. We have made of things. We said goodbye quickly, for those who live elsewhere it might be not always easy to say goodbye. You do it almost casually, to avoid detachment. Then you go into the house, where you shared some wonderful moments and remind the hugs, laughter, cafes and many other moments and you realize that someone went away, and you’re missing them. Yet cooking with Yan Yi has been a privilege. Thanks and see you soon, I do not know where, but we will meet again. Arrivederci xxx. Grace
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