Grey skies and a bubbling pot of soup go better together than bread and butter. Outside my window, gurgling children play in sheets of water. A grey sea tosses. Black and yellow cabs flash past, spewing arcs of rainwater.
Weather like this is why I cook at all. Inspired by last night's programme on Malaysian cooking, I abandon the grinder and bring out mommy's old mortar and pestle. It is going to be Thom Yum soup, the traditional way. The chicken broth simmers gently over orange flames, while I pound away at the lemongrass and garlic. In go the chilli-lashed shrimp (attached tails make them easier to eat), mushrooms and finely sliced bell pepper. The pot is bubbling now and I turn down the heat. Finally, the creamy coconut milk and fish sauce (out of a bottle).
The wind pounds hungrily at my window as I tuck in.