Working from home is strange at times.
Slept at 3 in the night (nothing quite unusual about that), woke up at 10 (now that's unusual). And decided to put some freshly washed utensils to good use. Seriously, how often does one get to make omelettes on a Wednesday morning? And though there is always some confusion about the required cooking resources in this house, it's surprising how much can one achieve without knowing the location of salt and chilly within the premises.
And for a while I will even ignore the fact that the following conversation took place between my flatmate and myself before I proceeded with cooking --
Self (with a greasy bottle which has some yellow liquid in it): "Hey man, is this cooking oil?"
Flatmate: "I believe so"
Self (eyeing the bottle with suspicion): "You sure? This ain't rat poison, is it? Cuz it smells funny"
Flatmate: "But there are lots of things in this house that smell funny..."
Self (all suspicions removed, and convinced about the humor content of things in our house): "Perfect, funny or serious, cooking oil it is..."
I was making an omelette after more than two years today. And my vague memory was telling me that salt should be one of the ingredients. But that brings us back to the existential question: "Where is salt in this house?". "The kitchen" is what some would answer. Very funny. I spent the next five minutes opening every bottle which had some white powder in it (thank heavens we don't do cocaine) and actually tasting it. Couldn't come to a logical conclusion though and decided to try my luck with the eggs in their purest form - No salt, no chilly, no onions. Ever heard of unadulterated eggs? Before this morning, even I hadn't.
The ultra-pure concoction was edible. With ketch-up of course. The person who invented ketch-up definitely had similar difficulties in finding salt in his/her house. How else would one come up with such a perfect substitute?
And now, it's time to get back to work, on this uncalled "holiday" bang in the middle of the week...