Both my parents used to be working professionals. This meant our weekends were always packed with family time and family activity. Usually we started with an unbelievable breakfast spread not just limiting to the weekday breakfast of cereal, yogurt and fruit we were fed (or forced) Monday through till Friday.
Hands down, my mum makes the best Maggi noodle soup ever! Not just any random noodle pack with a sachet of horrible stuff; Mama’s noodles had all the vitamins a growing 5 year old needs. I remember the first time I tasted the oozing bowl of comfort, my senses relive my 5 year old self even to date.
Every day before mama comes back home from work, she calls home around mid-afternoon to ask if she needed to bring us any thing, usually this would also include my grandma’s list of groceries that my brother or I would pass on over the phone. For my brother it will always be a toy (which she refuses sometimes) for me it would mainly be books, but on a Friday it will be ingredients for my Saturday morning, and Sunday morning maggi noodle soup…. We practically chop the whole vegetable basket in, and add meat and shell fish like prawns. The dish was so colorful, I could smell it a millions miles away. I brushed my teeth hurriedly every morning so that I can start eating right away.
Mama uses her fresh chicken stock that she prepares on a Friday night and to that adds carrots, potatoes, beans,celery, beef or mutton, prawn (if available) which she cuts into perfect three dimensional squares – it should always be cubed never julienned. Every cube similar to the other, it was like a ritual. The broccoli and cauliflower were broken down to smaller florets. All the ingredients start dancing in hot broth and she carefully takes out any white starchy residue that might start building around the pot, next the maggi noodles broken into chunks go in-just the way I like it. Half a minute later she will add an egg and break it in the broth. Yummmmmayyyyyyyyy…………… just the thought of the hot bowl of noodle soup makes my mouth water.
One of my proudest moments in life was when I turned 7 and mama let me cut all the veggies myself, she supervised me but always let me finish the task, this taught me to be patient and precise. I don’t think my mum knows even to date how much I cherish our maggi noodle weekends.
My childhood was a fun time, if ever I can go back in time I would choose my childhood. These memories I would cherish for life. Every time I felt I need a little time to rewind, rethink, or just relax I make myself a big bowl of maggi noodles. I always have the ingredients and the noodles in my kitchen cupboard.
Maggi noodles has seen me through assignment deadlines at uni, final year dissertation fever, graduate placement online psychometric tests (oh how I love these), heartbreaks, that-time-of-the-month, long days at work, you name it!
Writing this post reminded me that sometimes the most cherished memories are the simple ones that we tend to overlook. The connection I have with my soup bowl is not limited to the sense of taste but expands to my childhood. Those memories I will cherish forever.