The Girl and her family were asked to set out on an excursion to the inlets where her ancestors originated from. This was the real waters. Rough and red like the spiced rum the men of the House lushed over.
Amazonia. Vibrant greens of mangroves and wooden boats all in technicolour lined the shores where the locals displayed their jungle harvests.
She finally after many days of cowering away in the room where her late grandmother used to stay, she saw and felt her hunger return. A curiousity that didn't exist before is now itching to be scratched. An awakening of the taste buds began.
Men hollering out "Fresh Fiiiish! Hasser, Snapper and Smelt! Fresh Shhhhhrimps! Catch today!" his voice, singsongy, moved up and down as if he was singing for his life. As if his lyrics and beat will draw in spectators, which he did. Old women in frocks of red and orange fluttered over like parrots pointing with their noses as if they were beaks at the lovely spoils of the sea they desire.
A young woman with a baby sitting between her legs sipping at a bottle speaks seductively towards the Girl, "Sweet fruit for a sweet young lady?? Pine or mango? Darling, how about some cashew fruit, sugar apple? Lovely, buy two mangos nah?"
Charmed, the Girl looked at her father and without speaking a word, he paid the young woman and collected the fruit. Peeling back the skin like she did that Georgetown Morning, delicately lapping up the sweet juices and biting graciously into the meaty mustard yellow flesh. Her heart sang and her eyes grew wider. Relishing the moment and remembering a passed life she began to smile.
But something was amiss. Who am I to share this with? Then in a flash she shook her sad thought away and carried on with her journey.
After a long day of laughter and bonding with the young ladies and sirs of the family, having a refreshing swim in the river. She enjoyed watching nature unfold it's tropical beauty in front of her eyes, as she sat on a terrace looking out over then land...lost in her world once again.
The Girl's mother preparing her bed for slumber when she gently stroked the Girls' head and said, "You know, there is an admirer out there for you. A Prince. He's admired you for many years and he wishes to finally meet you. If you wish of course."
Stunned, and kind of in denial she refused to believe the statement.
The Girl's mother continued to pat her head and served her warm ginger tea with honey and lemon to calm her spirits and spoke again about the Prince.
She had never met him, but word across the land said he was the handsomest of them all. A barreling 6 feet 3 inches, milk chocolate skin and a smile that could melt any girl's heart. But, not this Girl! She refused again.
It wasn't until she was lying in bed listening to the mysterious thud of heavy husked coconuts dropping haphazardly from trees did she softly whisper the words "I agree," to her mother. It was the late Lady of the House of Leopold that pined for this match to grow fruit. It was a dying wish that this Girl could not deny.
She returned to the House of Leopold and word had already reached the uncle of the Girl that she had agreed to the meeting. He prepared a special way for the two to meet and unbeknown to the Girl all the magic was happening without her even saying a word.
A driver and the uncle took the Girl into town, buying rows of clothes and jewels for her to wear and show off to the Prince. But again being as lofty as this Girl was, she took it as being spoiled in royal fashion and didn't see it for what it really was; a romantic affair.
She was poked and prodded. Hair perfectly placed and rouge was slashed across her face. "This Prince better be worth all this fuss. I cannot be bothered with all this, really!"
Day turned to night and the parade of Elders, youngsters and Ladies and Sirs set out for a feast. This would be the last feast the family had together, because soon, everyone would part ways back to their respected Houses.
The intoxicating aroma of the Orient. A golden staircase the S'ed it's way up to a glass terrace. She sat at the long table peering over the delicacies of the Far East.
The smell of the charred rice with ribbons of eggs, and dotted with green and orange jewels of peas and carrots. Glistening green bokchoy perfumed with the heady hit of sesame seed oil. Each leaf was perfectly laid out like the arms of the sun with a tumbling mountain of shiitake cooked with blistered bits of garlic. The flavours of crispy brown and the salty jolt of soy, indeed it was quite the feast but before she could take her first mouthful, before the dull prongs of the fork hit her lips, there he was...
She heard birds chirp in the dead of night, and the glow of the orange light make her eyes hazy. A pristine white was the cloth of his shirt, his caramel skin sparkled a little underneath the light of the dining hall. He strolled by and out to the terrace and every cell in her body was on fire.
Who...was that? No, couldn't be! Is it? The noise stopped, the smells disappeared, her throat became dry and her face was scorching hot, so much so that she could easily melt butter by holding it up to her cheeks. Her body was a heat pump.
Her aunt summoned the tall strapping young man to the table. Indeed her instincts served her right. A Prince stood over her with a smile that more than melted her heart, it melted the world around her.
She couldn't contain herself as she abruptly stepped away.
Amazonia. Vibrant greens of mangroves and wooden boats all in technicolour lined the shores where the locals displayed their jungle harvests.
She finally after many days of cowering away in the room where her late grandmother used to stay, she saw and felt her hunger return. A curiousity that didn't exist before is now itching to be scratched. An awakening of the taste buds began.
Men hollering out "Fresh Fiiiish! Hasser, Snapper and Smelt! Fresh Shhhhhrimps! Catch today!" his voice, singsongy, moved up and down as if he was singing for his life. As if his lyrics and beat will draw in spectators, which he did. Old women in frocks of red and orange fluttered over like parrots pointing with their noses as if they were beaks at the lovely spoils of the sea they desire.
A young woman with a baby sitting between her legs sipping at a bottle speaks seductively towards the Girl, "Sweet fruit for a sweet young lady?? Pine or mango? Darling, how about some cashew fruit, sugar apple? Lovely, buy two mangos nah?"
Charmed, the Girl looked at her father and without speaking a word, he paid the young woman and collected the fruit. Peeling back the skin like she did that Georgetown Morning, delicately lapping up the sweet juices and biting graciously into the meaty mustard yellow flesh. Her heart sang and her eyes grew wider. Relishing the moment and remembering a passed life she began to smile.
But something was amiss. Who am I to share this with? Then in a flash she shook her sad thought away and carried on with her journey.
After a long day of laughter and bonding with the young ladies and sirs of the family, having a refreshing swim in the river. She enjoyed watching nature unfold it's tropical beauty in front of her eyes, as she sat on a terrace looking out over then land...lost in her world once again.
The Girl's mother preparing her bed for slumber when she gently stroked the Girls' head and said, "You know, there is an admirer out there for you. A Prince. He's admired you for many years and he wishes to finally meet you. If you wish of course."
Stunned, and kind of in denial she refused to believe the statement.
The Girl's mother continued to pat her head and served her warm ginger tea with honey and lemon to calm her spirits and spoke again about the Prince.
She had never met him, but word across the land said he was the handsomest of them all. A barreling 6 feet 3 inches, milk chocolate skin and a smile that could melt any girl's heart. But, not this Girl! She refused again.
It wasn't until she was lying in bed listening to the mysterious thud of heavy husked coconuts dropping haphazardly from trees did she softly whisper the words "I agree," to her mother. It was the late Lady of the House of Leopold that pined for this match to grow fruit. It was a dying wish that this Girl could not deny.
She returned to the House of Leopold and word had already reached the uncle of the Girl that she had agreed to the meeting. He prepared a special way for the two to meet and unbeknown to the Girl all the magic was happening without her even saying a word.
A driver and the uncle took the Girl into town, buying rows of clothes and jewels for her to wear and show off to the Prince. But again being as lofty as this Girl was, she took it as being spoiled in royal fashion and didn't see it for what it really was; a romantic affair.
She was poked and prodded. Hair perfectly placed and rouge was slashed across her face. "This Prince better be worth all this fuss. I cannot be bothered with all this, really!"
Day turned to night and the parade of Elders, youngsters and Ladies and Sirs set out for a feast. This would be the last feast the family had together, because soon, everyone would part ways back to their respected Houses.
The intoxicating aroma of the Orient. A golden staircase the S'ed it's way up to a glass terrace. She sat at the long table peering over the delicacies of the Far East.
The smell of the charred rice with ribbons of eggs, and dotted with green and orange jewels of peas and carrots. Glistening green bokchoy perfumed with the heady hit of sesame seed oil. Each leaf was perfectly laid out like the arms of the sun with a tumbling mountain of shiitake cooked with blistered bits of garlic. The flavours of crispy brown and the salty jolt of soy, indeed it was quite the feast but before she could take her first mouthful, before the dull prongs of the fork hit her lips, there he was...
She heard birds chirp in the dead of night, and the glow of the orange light make her eyes hazy. A pristine white was the cloth of his shirt, his caramel skin sparkled a little underneath the light of the dining hall. He strolled by and out to the terrace and every cell in her body was on fire.
Who...was that? No, couldn't be! Is it? The noise stopped, the smells disappeared, her throat became dry and her face was scorching hot, so much so that she could easily melt butter by holding it up to her cheeks. Her body was a heat pump.
Her aunt summoned the tall strapping young man to the table. Indeed her instincts served her right. A Prince stood over her with a smile that more than melted her heart, it melted the world around her.
She couldn't contain herself as she abruptly stepped away.
Love at first sight? Can it really exist? She smackers herself on the back of her head, as if to bring out of her romantic coma.
The night carried on. Chatter and laughter. But she dare not look directly at the Prince. Fear of getting dizzy took her and she sobered up.
When the night closed and the sadness began to set in that she would part from her kin, a glaze of sorrow ever so gently took her. Somber strides down the staircase she took and as she looked up there he was, waiting.
One foot on the last step and with his hand out to reach hers their eyes met his lips unzipped a sultry smile. She looked deeply into his gaze with his eyes like perfect white saucers and teacups with dark, rich and robust centres. She could sip slowly from those eyes for the rest of her days.
She held his hand and in a deep raspy voice he said hello. She choked out a greeting before pulling herself away.
Like a glass fresh orange juice at the crack of dawn she felt rejuvenated and revitalised!
But fate had something else for her. A frigid surprise only a Prince would grace her with.
Xo,
The Girl who Likes to Cook
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