The Domesticated Goddess bathed in an aura of sweat

The night before last, I set my alarm for 7am for Friday morning. Didnt hear a thing til 7.40am, although my alarm must have rang a zillion times in 10 minute intervals. It was off to the wet market with my future MIL (“FMIL”) with little canvas 2-wheeler trolley in tow (trust me, these little contraptions are indispensable!) Althought I guided our precious buys in the trolley like a hawk which my FMIL lead the way and did the negotiations.

I, shamefully, have not been to the wet market since i was maybe 10 (not so long ago, mind you) and on the numerous occasions I tailed my Mum, I had always blanched at the chicken stall, where the (do I call him a Butcher?) slit the necks of live chicken all unmercifully stuffed into little wire cages. Even in Melbourne I never went to Vic Market much, preferring the shiny chicken breast fillets at the Deli section in Safeway.

So imagine my (re)found interest at the wet market on Friday morning. If I had half a mind at 7.40am, I would have brought along my camera – there were many fantastic photography opportunities. It was an ordinary day at the market but with my “grown up” eyes, i noticed, that remarkably, it was like CHEERS “where everybody knows your name”…the little path that leads from the vege and fruit stalls (thats the easy bit) then leading on to the chicken stall (thankfully nothing alive here), fish, then butchery for meat and pork. The housewives flocked around the butcher, each vying for his attention, harmless jokes were tossed into the conversation while he slices through meat expertly. (The smell though, not so fascinating)…

I had been bathed in sweat by the time we ended the run at a nearby coffeeshop, morning Teh Ais! I had never felt so thirsty for a long time!

Later at Cold Storage on the same day, I noted satisfactorily that there was also a wide array of fresh-looking produce available. Made a mental note to come here if I had to cook in future. Hehe, cheaterpot!!!

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