Cooking and cleaning up a storm...
I came from Taraweex prayer an hour ago and I can’t go to sleep. Everyone is snoring all over the house while I’m alternating between studying and trying to lull myself to the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. Oddly enough, my textbook isn’t making me drowsy as usual - I shouldn’t have drank that cup of tea. I’m so sleepy, wired, anxious, scared, disappointed and careless at the same time.
I have two exams tomorrow to which I’m not prepared. I’m a big time procrastinator who never learns her lesson, but I also find it hard to pay attention and study while I’m fasting. When I’m stressed out like this - usually I’ll be consuming maybe 2 chocolate bars, a cup of coffee, and a whole pack of gum IN A SINGLE DAY. That’s how I cope. But since I’m fasting - I’ve developed another habit which I hope disappears after Ramadhan. This afternoon as I was flipping across the pages - an uncontrollable urge to clean and cook took over me. I tried my darnest to ignore it but it kept floating back into my brain at every opportunity and finally I got up and just went completely mad. My whole family was shocked - which should tell you alot. I finally felt a bit Canadian as I made my very first homemade apple pie! Making the crust killed me - I had to throw away the first batch because it was just so crumbly and un-rollable. The second batch was the same as the first although I followed the stupid recipe to the letter. I was about to give up when I spotted the dough for our Iftar bur-shiil-shiil sitting on the counter. I thought ‘what the heck - dough is dough’ and proceeded with the apple pie.
The crust came out hard and was only enough for the bottom crust but everyone oohed and aahed and rolled their eyes back in ecstasy (I would like to think). So to cover the apple filling, I whipped up some whipping cream until it had a light, fluffy consistency and spread it all around the top. I smirked a little as I thought of all the amateurs who bought Cool Whip from the store while I made my own from scratch (so to speak) with a little help of elbow grease. I felt like one of those early pioneer women who didn’t rely on the convenience of modern technology and big box stores. And because my creative juices were still flowing, I melted some chocolate I found in my bag and sprinkled it over the whipped cream generously. It was my very first pie and it turned out good if I do say so myself - although the crust was hard and I’ll have to send an email to the stupid website I copied the recipe from.
After I made the pie - I was in a roll. I made potato-egg salad with shrimp (don’t stick out your tongue - It was seriously good). Then quickly fried up some bur-shiil-shiil, sliced them in the middle, and filled them with cinnamon flavoured apple sauce. YUM! My mom had the idea and I made it and it was sooo good. I still wasn’t satisfied though - I was desperately trying to put off hitting the books. I watched some TV and then starting to clean, vacuum, straighten out the house from top to bottom. Although I don’t particularly like either cooking or cleaning - I was happy inside the whole time. I was humming and tapping my foot and felt all good at my accomplishment.
It felt good to see a really clean home and a nice Iftar at the table and know that I made it. I couldn’t help gazing over my work and mentally giving myself a pat. I heard this type of feeling is quite addictive and it frightens me.
Right now, after I sign off from here, I’m going to be looking for recipes on strawberry, pumpkin and peach pies. ;)
I have two exams tomorrow to which I’m not prepared. I’m a big time procrastinator who never learns her lesson, but I also find it hard to pay attention and study while I’m fasting. When I’m stressed out like this - usually I’ll be consuming maybe 2 chocolate bars, a cup of coffee, and a whole pack of gum IN A SINGLE DAY. That’s how I cope. But since I’m fasting - I’ve developed another habit which I hope disappears after Ramadhan. This afternoon as I was flipping across the pages - an uncontrollable urge to clean and cook took over me. I tried my darnest to ignore it but it kept floating back into my brain at every opportunity and finally I got up and just went completely mad. My whole family was shocked - which should tell you alot. I finally felt a bit Canadian as I made my very first homemade apple pie! Making the crust killed me - I had to throw away the first batch because it was just so crumbly and un-rollable. The second batch was the same as the first although I followed the stupid recipe to the letter. I was about to give up when I spotted the dough for our Iftar bur-shiil-shiil sitting on the counter. I thought ‘what the heck - dough is dough’ and proceeded with the apple pie.
The crust came out hard and was only enough for the bottom crust but everyone oohed and aahed and rolled their eyes back in ecstasy (I would like to think). So to cover the apple filling, I whipped up some whipping cream until it had a light, fluffy consistency and spread it all around the top. I smirked a little as I thought of all the amateurs who bought Cool Whip from the store while I made my own from scratch (so to speak) with a little help of elbow grease. I felt like one of those early pioneer women who didn’t rely on the convenience of modern technology and big box stores. And because my creative juices were still flowing, I melted some chocolate I found in my bag and sprinkled it over the whipped cream generously. It was my very first pie and it turned out good if I do say so myself - although the crust was hard and I’ll have to send an email to the stupid website I copied the recipe from.
After I made the pie - I was in a roll. I made potato-egg salad with shrimp (don’t stick out your tongue - It was seriously good). Then quickly fried up some bur-shiil-shiil, sliced them in the middle, and filled them with cinnamon flavoured apple sauce. YUM! My mom had the idea and I made it and it was sooo good. I still wasn’t satisfied though - I was desperately trying to put off hitting the books. I watched some TV and then starting to clean, vacuum, straighten out the house from top to bottom. Although I don’t particularly like either cooking or cleaning - I was happy inside the whole time. I was humming and tapping my foot and felt all good at my accomplishment.
It felt good to see a really clean home and a nice Iftar at the table and know that I made it. I couldn’t help gazing over my work and mentally giving myself a pat. I heard this type of feeling is quite addictive and it frightens me.
Right now, after I sign off from here, I’m going to be looking for recipes on strawberry, pumpkin and peach pies. ;)
posted by Lonesome Dreamer @ 6:09 p.m.
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