A beautiful Easter day

After so many cold gloomy days, I woke up to sunlight pouring inside my bedroom, bathing me in warm yellow light. It was so cozy I stayed cocooned beneath the duvet for a good couple of hours before I could make myself get out of bed. These past few days we were treated to a totally unpredictable weather (not that it was anything new)–but it snowed, in April! And weather forecast says snow on the weekend. We are probably looking at five days of summer this year. So waking up to a beautiful day with streaming sunshine and deep blue sky was a luxury. I felt really happy and my heart was imbued with gratefulness.

I leaped out the bed and run in the living room. As expected, sunlight was spilling in the room from the picture window and the flowers sitting on the table nearby seemed more vibrant. A perfect morning indeed and I basked in the sunshine while enjoying a bowl of granola. It was so invigorating. A while later, my sister and I decided to spend the day outside (like the rest of the masked populace) and drove to Coombe Hill which was about 15 minutes away from our flat. The small parking space and the whole length of street were packed with cars but surprisingly, the place was not too crowded. We meandered along small footpaths to avoid other people until we reached the peak of the hill. The light breeze blowing was chilly but as long as we were seated on a patch of sunlight it was bearable. The sky was so blue not a speck of cloud in sight. Occasionally, birds could be seen silently gliding in the air.

It was peaceful.

Coombe Hill

It’s Saturday

And we cooked. I am surrounded by people who are either Italians, a good cook or both. They are passionate people and love good food. They find my way of cooking horrible especially the one where I mix a jar of bolognese pasta basil sauce with pasta I boiled in oil and salt. This led to a step by step instruction on cooking a proper pasta and a promise to let them try it. Months later and I’m still not brave enough to have my pasta judged.

So, today, my sister and I decided to cook instead of eating out. She is an aspiring vegan. I admire her day to day promise and conviction to be vegan but a year later…she’s still promising to start the next day after eating steak or barbecue pork ribs. I do love her collections of vegan books and recipes.

I guess it doesn’t help that both of us can’t cook. Well, technically we can saute, fry and boil and those are forms of cooking. However, when it comes to the coveted art of “proper” cooking, we are highly skill-challenged.


Our flat had that lovely smell of baking cookies. She decided on vegan chocolate chip cookies and the smell was divine. Except for the taste. They were all so bitter it was hard to swallow. I guess it was too much baking powder? My sister was horrified when she realized she put tablespoonful of baking powder instead of teaspoonful. No wonder, they were as big as bread. I felt sorry for her because she was so disappointed. I tried eating it to show support but I just couldn’t take another bite. We ended up throwing the batches away.


We did have the noodles I cooked for brunch instead. It was edible enough. And of course, to make everything right, we had a cup of tea.