I've this mega huge craving for all things Bengawan Solo; the sponge cake my mom always buys for breakfast, the jiu cheng gao, the green balls coated with coconut shavings, the yellow kueh also coated with coconut shavings, the sticky rice stuffed with spicy shrimp paste, the blue rice with a tuft of shredded coconut right at the top. To top it all off, I would also like the brown rectangular pastry that is extremely elastic and those colourful balls in one packet.
I cannot concentrate because all I see are not words but all these orgasmic images of food floating in front of me.
It's about time I go home. Home is where food is abundant 24/7. Home is not a place where everything on the menu is pasta, penne, linguine and potato with leek. It's where I can find chilli stingray and where doctors don't go "sorry?" when I say I'm "heaty".
4 months is a long enough torture for me. And I can't even stay long enough to enjoy my mooncakes.