Frying Chicken.

Not very remarkable. But then something hit me. It was very weird. Not anything… important. But it just… hit me. With the little stings from the oil splattering… came a thought.

Holding the piece of chicken, smearing it with mustard, rolling it in bread crumbs. Then you lay it gently in the oil. You do not drop it, lest it land with a big SPLAT of hot oil, or it lands on top of another piece of mustard-ed/bread crumb-ed chicken. It would stick, and the breading would come off and that would be no fun. I mean, it would still taste great, but it would be… unsightly. Cooking is an art, after all. As I go to lay the chicken in the hot oil, yes, I feel the little stings, and I do not pull away. And that is what hit me. I do not pull away. It’s a… strange… feeling. To think that not so long ago I would lay it in the oil and jerk my hand back just as quick as I could; often, I would let go too soon in my haste to get away from the splattering oil, and it would end up landing with a splat, just as I meant to avoid. It was just strange, thinking that. It’s like… one of the little things that make you realize how you’ve changed and grown in the past year and then some. Nothing interesting, like trying something new and crazy. Nothing major like getting one’s driving permit. But, in its own small way, it did mean a great deal to me.

It made me sad as well as happy. Sad? Because I could ignore the little drops that feel like a needle that does not really prick? No… I can’t pinpoint why it kind of made me feel sad. But, I was — I am — more happy than sad, so it is probably nothing. Still… it was weird…



  1. Ugh. You’re turning into me. Spiritual Reflections at the Stove. nice name for a new blog, don’t you think? LOL

  2. love it, ais. lol. i can’t wait to get at a stove w/ you. :D ahhh….there can never be too many blogs ^__^….i just need to remember to write in them. :/

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