I had to have a rice cooker before leaving home. Laptop, car, rice cooker. Delicious rice, steaming gently, ready to grate cheese over, pour on soy sauce, rice vinegar, chili oil. The vigorous bubbling in the pot. The cloud of fragrant steam. Rice with blue cheese dressing wrapped in a crust of sourdough bread. Under chicken that has been cooked over alder coals. Leftover rice filling out the leftover half bowl of soup. Washing rice and looking for the stones. My father, learning how to cook rice as he and the grad students under his wing exchanged recipes and languages. Learning what not to do with chopsticks. Swearing helplessly at a post-college roommate as he left his upright in the bowl in a restaurant. Pausing to calculate how much rice to how much water, *really*, teaching the brother of my heart. I think I can get another ten years out of the rice cooker easily, maybe twenty or more. One handle is cracked now, but that rice cooker is the symbol of my independence.
azurelunatic, who needs to get better at remembering passwords
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Date: 2011-06-08 06:41 am (UTC)azurelunatic, who needs to get better at remembering passwords