There are days when I don’t feel like trying anything new.
No new stalls, no new flavours, no surprises. I just want the same bowl I’ve been eating for years.
It’s a simple bowl of fish soup from a coffee shop near my place. Clear broth, a little ginger, soft slices of fish that never taste rushed. Nothing fancy happens here. But the steam always hits my face the same way, and the first sip always slows me down.
This is what I eat when I’ve had a long day and don’t feel like explaining myself to anyone. When cooking feels like too much, but skipping dinner feels wrong. The uncle doesn’t ask what I want anymore. He just nods, like we both understand why I’m here.
I think comfort food works because it asks nothing from you. You don’t have to be curious or adventurous or impressed. You just have to show up hungry.
And sometimes, that’s enough.
