This happens to me once in a while, though I never thought it would happen like this. Not being able to think of something to write about. Certainly, it’s a little scary, seeing it up close for the first time, but I suppose it’s just one of those every day things, like your hair falling out when you’re stressed.
Probably not the best of imageries there. Oops.
Of late I have wandered into a void of sorts, surrounded only by the things I love. Which may sound like paradise, but it’s a double-edged sword. You see, very recently a project I have been working on for the past 6 months has now closed. Several other projects in the pipelines have yet not been green-lighted, hence I now find myself with oodles of time on my hands, and very little to do.
Oh of course, the things I love have always been the things I have complained about not having enough time for. I couldn’t finish reading Murakami’s The Elephant Vanishes, even though it is a book of short stories. I couldn’t finish writing the short story that I had such great ideas for. You see I had stumbled upon the perfect scenario, only to find its secret catch.
The perfect scenario came with a receipt of restlessness.
I am an unabashed workaholic. For this brief 6 months when I left full-time work, however, I discovered all these wonderful things I wanted to do but never could before. My projects allowed me enough time to work and more than enough time to spend, so I started this blog, I cooked, I stepped up yoga classes, and I started music lessons.
When the aforementioned project closed, however, I was now left with only the things I loved to do. It was a peculiar feeling. It was so peculiar I turned to listening to my mother, who was in the completely opposite direction. Her colleagues and staff were driving her up the wall. After cooking dinner I would perch cooingly on the bed and listen to her tirade against the injustice that is the hotel industry.
While I waited patiently for my next project, then, I found myself pondering my situation. I had begun this post as a recipe for potatoes. And for the life of me I could not think of something to write about potatoes. Funny-looking, solid, dependable potatoes. (Buzz: things that are good for throwing).
For all this talk of paradise then, I began to wander into a taboo area where the sign read “Don’t tread”. I started to wonder what Heaven must be like (of course this is not the first time, but very different); but I sure do hope Heaven has work and employment. At the very least, you are blessed to work with and for wonderful people, and perhaps trade in food rather than money.
Pesto Potatoes in their jackets
5 Russet potatoes, scrubbed & cleaned
1 bunch of basil leaves
Handful pine nuts
4 tbsp Parmesan cheese
80g salmon meat
Margarine or butter
5 tbsp Minced garlic
Grated cheddar cheese
Wash and scrub potatoes thoroughly. Poke holes into it with a fork. At 180°C, bake whole russet potatoes for about an hour and a half, till they are cooked. Do not use foil to wrap, as that will only just steam your potatoes.
Depending on how much your ‘bunch’ of basil leaves are, you might want to adjust the following ingredients. Put together minced garlic (save 1 tbsp for later), parmesan cheese, pine nuts, basil leaves and blend. Slowly drizzle in olive oil while it’s still blending to get a smooth, consistent mixture.
When potatoes are done, slice in half. Scoop out the flesh from the middle, leaving a nice thin border. Sprinkle sugar into the jackets, turn upside down, and place skin-side up on the roasting pan. Drizzle olive oil, and put into the oven for a second round.
Mash potatoes flesh. Lightly fry garlic in butter, add salmon meat. Pour in pesto sauce, season with salt and pepper, and mix thoroughly. A smooth potato consistency will taste better.
Finally scoop the mixture into the jackets, top with cheddar cheese and bake till melted and browned. Serve hot.