Food for thought...so to speak..

Was feeling a bit lonely, tired, drained, and hungry. It’s getting late and I have another early 5.30am rise tomorrow for training. A few critical minutes of mental struggle later, hunger won and I got up to nuke the leftover pasta that I have cooked the day before. The portion is just nice for a light meal, in my dictionary at least.
Then out of the blue I remembered the other night not so long ago…I was hungry too, and you asked me what I wanted to eat. I had no particular cravings, just hungry, not itchy-mouth hungry but really rather starved…coz we had a big family Christmas lunch that extended till 5pm, and by the time we got back it’s already pushing 11pm, justifiable judging from my notorious appetite.
You thought for a moment and suggested omelette. I frowned a little, since it’s not my favourite type of eggs, also not my expected candidate for supper.
You patiently and matter-of-factly (as an engineer would) said that it’s quick and substantial yet not too rich. Then you went on to describe what you would put in that omelette: whole cherry tomatoes plucked from the backyard, a little cheese, and bacon – all served with a lightly buttered toast under…my face began to soften, heart already sold actually. Simple yet alluring concoction somehow in that span of time. Afterall, you do make good omelettes and scrambled eggs tasty enough for me to deviate from my normal choice of sunny side-ups. In fact, I was not expected to do anything at all, just wait around in bed, obsessing with facebook, a recent addiction that you can’t make any sense of (especially this game in it called warbook).
I heard some clutter, chopping, sizzling…before I know it the aroma found it’s way into my nose, producing a mixed spontaneous effect of satiating my hunger and intensifying it at the same time. And voila! You appeared in the doorway, holding up two plates with a smile. Heh, so you must be quite hungry too huh, or perhaps a more itchy-mouth thing for you.
We didn’t waste anytime and started digging into it pretty deftly. It was one of the best, even possibly the best omelette I have ever had. I had to keep reminding self to slow down so I could savour the dish more and drag out the gastro-euphoria just a bit longer. I was not biased. It’s truly a quality omelette, that whole idea of whole cherry tomatoes working it’s magic too (apart from not making the omelette soggy as cut tomatoes do, imagine these bursts of intense ripe tomato flavours fluttering around your palette, perfectly balancing the cheese and bacon somehow)...and it’s made tonnes better yet again because it’s made for you when you are hungry without asking, and brought straight to your lap…wrapped with warmth, care and tenderness, better than words can express…which you suck at anyway. Also brought back memories of those mornings when you will let me sleep in and bring me juice and brekkie in bed. In that aspect, I am indeed spoilt to the brim. It’s what you are good at, so I guess I will just keep indulging...
I have already finished my kid-sized portion pasta by now. My tummy is happy, and feeling a bit warmer and fuzzier than it should be fueled by this short recollection. Just what I needed before I hit the lights in my cold cold room in dubai…plus a sweet lingering thought for the mind before gruesome training commence again in the morning.