Of Stockpiles

Every Malaysian expatriate I know does this. You know you do.

Every time I make a trip back, I 'import' a stash of foodstuff into the US. And in fortified pantry of our home, much much more priceless than jewellery, or our legal documents, is my stockpile of Malaysian food.

My precious stash of spices, sauces and pastes from half a world away. A feeble attempt for the tastebuds to experience the homeland. A temporary means of treating homesickness.

And my wife knows better than to mess around with my stuff. She can mess around with my Porsche. My cellphone. The LCD HDTV, or my computer. But this, this is out of bounds.And so, I made dinner the other day. Was craving some Portugese fish curry. And so, I put on my chef's apron, got the fish out of the freezer, and went into the pantry to get My Precious.

Only to read:

I did the only honorable thing. The right thing. After all, I'm a doctor, and health is important to me.

I ate it.

(no diarrhea or food poisoning, so far. Just don't tell my wife about the expiration date)