Uninvited dinner guests (Spain)

 

Old friend Chris is in Lanzarote on holiday at the moment with his family.  This reminds me of my time on the island.

    New boyfriend Michael and I decided to go to Lanzarote for our first Christmas together.

    Being Swiss, he wanted a holiday near the sea.  Having been brought up in Singapore, I wanted one that featured mountains.  Lanzarote was a nice compromise.

    We rented a chalet in a holiday complex, as it’d be more space than a hotel room, and we’d be able to cook our own meals.

    As it was Lanzarote, I decided to cook lots of seafood meals for Michael the Swiss, as it’d be cheaper than seafood bought in London, even for cooking at home.  

    There was a small cluster of shops about 15 minutes’ walk from the holiday complex, which gave a bit of a homely ambience to the holiday, making us feel a tad like locals, having to go and buy our own food, then cook it at home — much more fun than eating professionally cooked meals in a restaurant.  (Professional cooking is often a bit too rich for my south-eastern Chinese dialect group Teochew palate, brought up on blander food:  less oil, less salt / soya sauce.)

    The kitchen area was a smallish space to one side inside the chalet, between the living room and the bedroom.  

    On the first night I cooked dinner, we left the main door wide open, to let the cooking smells out as much as possible. 

    Chinese cooking, involving stir frying in oil so hot that it smokes, and the use of garlic and ginger, tends to smell out the whole room.  A lot of Chinese women I know even wear a shower cap while cooking, to keep the smell out of their hair.  If the kitchen is separate, one can shut the kitchen door and open the windows, which is what I do at home, but this kitchen was in an open plan arrangement.

    At some point close to the end of the cooking, I turned round to find that the whole neighbourhood’s cats had invited themselves round, sitting dotted about on the living room floor, patiently waiting for dinner to be served.

    It took us quite a while to get them all out, as they’d dodge our efforts and hide under or behind the furniture.

    After that, we’d remember to shut the main door every time we cooked our meals.

    (They probably had a lucky escape anyway, as my cooking is not very good...)

(Spain, 1987)