The Girl Who Consumed Mistborn for Dinner

I've had just enough time to...   ask the girl what book she is reading...

Taken one evening of Harry's in Manhattan, Kansas

A very long time ago, when I was a young man; I found myself thousands of miles away from home in a small town called Manhattan. Not the one in the Big Apple. They called this “the little apple” and some Americans do not even know it exists. The taxi driver looked at me with suspicion for while he was loading the luggage, I promptly went over to his door and opened it only to discover we drove on different side of the road.

I learned a lot of things in my first winter. Snow balls hurt. You can only make two before your fingers froze. Why pushing a car up a very gentle but icy slope is so exhausting. I did not like the cold and the damp. Beyond the heavenly sight, I did not like anything about winter but hot coffee after the snow had never tasted so delicious. But what did I know? I was in my early twenties and have only known one type of weather before then. Experience has now taught me that the first impression is not necessarily the most accurate. Years later, I was sitting next to a lumberjack on my way to Canada and he has this glow as he described how cities depressed him and his most sublime moments are in the wild of the Canadian forest at minus forty.

Fine dining in a grand old restaurant with history...

Now I was back to this little town and the flood of nostalgia that I expected to hit me did not come. I have lost connections with most of the past I spent in this place. I still remembered some particular events that left a lasting impression but then I’ve always have these and my being there did not dredge out new ones from my subconscious. It was kind of disappointing. Maybe, it was because I spent too little time there this trip, only a day and working most of it.

In the evening, the ADM manager who was born in this town took us to his favourite restaurant – Harry’s. As students, we were too poor to dine in this fine place then. I was delighted to be assailed by the sombre atmosphere of a place leaden with history. I imagined the dining hall now populated by happy diners filled with water in the great Manhattan flood of 1951 and the restoration that made it what it is today. We were led to a private room at the very end separated by a glass partition.

The girl who consumed appetizer, dinner, dessert and book.

While waiting for our food, we chatted with our cheerful waitress and learned that she is from Australia. The world has gotten a whole lot smaller. My gaze wandered and rested on a girl seated in the most secluded corner of the restaurant. She was reading a book with her back towards me totally engrossed. I observed her throughout dinner from the appetizer to the main course and dessert. She has a good appetite and seemed to enjoy her food but she continued reading in between bites.

She and the book she was reading intrigued me. To my scale of attractiveness, next to a girl with a musical instrument (see “Did you fall in love with the music or the musician?”); is a girl with a book. Even after they cleared her table, she continued reading. As we were leaving the restaurant, I went over and asked her –

“Hi, I noticed that you were thoroughly enjoying this book. May I know what it is you are reading?
She looked up with a smile and said “Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson. It is good.”

“I am sure. I must get that book. Thank you”.

We left Manhattan the next morning and that evening in Kansas City, I asked the cashier in Barnes & Nobles if the book is in stock and she let me upstairs and found for me the box set of the Mistborn Trilogy. On the way out, I picked up “World War Z” which I read on the long flight back to Malaysia and which turned out to be the my most surprising read of the year. I would like to tell her that – it is good too. I enjoyed picking my souvenir this way.

Here Comes The "Kok Kok" Candy Man!

I've had just enough time to...   taste the Kok Kok Candy Man's sweet again.

Taken in Jonker Street in Malacca, Malaysia.

We heard him before we saw him. “Kok Kok! Kok Kok!” We rushed out of the house to the back lane to greet the arrival of the Candy Man.

Riding somewhat unsteadily in his old bicycle, the old man weaved his way to where his young customers were eagerly waiting. He usually arrived in late afternoon but the days when he arrived did not fit any regular pattern. Maybe it was because in those days, only the children of the rich has pocket money and if he came around too regularly, there will not be enough paying customers. He needed to space out his visits for them to save enough dimes to pay for his sweet.

When he got off his bicycle and parked it, the cover of a large round aluminium tray secured at the back was lifted displaying a single large piece of candy filling almost the whole tray except for those edges that had been chipped away. With two pieces of metal, he will strike the one shaped like a wedge with the other that looked like a hammer producing sharp metallic sound “kok kok! Kok kok!” Even those of us who could not afford to buy will crowd round him to watch. Sometimes, one of our richer friends may give us a small piece and make our day. But more often, we were taunted and had to swallow our saliva instead.

The candy man disappeared from the scene as the country modernised. We thought him extinct for a long while. But there is a revival of interests in traditional snacks and we found him again after all these years. And every time I hear that “kok kok” sound, it reminded me of my youth in a bitter sweet way.

First Taste Is Like First Love.

I've had just enough time...   to taste Taiping popiah again.

Taken in Taiping, of course!

 

First taste is like first love,

You can revisit it.

But it never taste quite the same.

Like if there is something missing.

Or is it you, your taste

Or the food has changed?