Subtle Palate

Pale and white like freshly fallen snow; undisturbed in its silent smoothness as if fallen where no one walks. Like a fluffy white pillow on a feather bed that beckons the weary of body and heart - its texture so soft and warm. A silent, soft, smoothness… that is alas, bland and flat to the taste. Yet, this featureless desert in taste belies a hidden strength. A strength so potent and powerful in its insipidness that it bursts through my memories as if to proclaim, “I am Plain Rice Porridge! Taste my roar!”

Almost at once a myriad of taste and colours flashes through my mind. The tangy metallic taste of ripe red tomatoes; the earthy fullness of potatoes boiled to a mush; the meaty, gamey taste of Bovril almost like the taste of the scrapings from the bottom of a roasting dish; the grainy saltiness of deep-fried anchovies that’s been ground up in a stone mortar.

Like watercolours of turmeric, saffron, soy sauce and black pepper all swirling in water, they dance in a joyous celebration of flavours and culture - each having its own distinction, yet blending beautifully together. A beauty made possible only because of the pale white stage that is the rice porridge.

Plain rice porridge mixed with mashed potatoes, tomatoes and anchovies. A food for the soul of the subtle palate of a two year old.