It was a quiet weekend. I’ve been in bed for a few days with a gastrointestinal bacterial infection. I’ve lost 6 lbs and haven’t eaten much. TMI, I know. I got it by drinking from an old water bottle while fly fishing. Lesson learned.
So, I rallied to see my doctor. Her parents are from Iran. We shared home remedies for a bad stomach ache. In Iran, she said that warm rice, plain yogurt, and salt were a prescribed cure.
I told her about rice congee. See above.
In an ethnic Chinese family, it is what your parents make for you when you are ill. Rice is cooked until it essentially disintegrates and creates a creamy and nutritious stew. A little meat is added, as are green onions, white pepper, and thin soy sauce.
My mother used to make it with a twist. She’d throw in a whole chicken so that the rice would cook in a very rich broth.
Thankfully, a local Hong Kong-style noodle shop offers it. When I eat congee, it is always when I’m really sick. And that first bite always reminds me of my mother. I am teleported back. The consistency of the porridge. The unique whiff of white pepper. The gentle saltiness of a thin soy sauce.
So, three days of intestinal distress, thus far, for a whopping 21″ brown trout, my Personal Best catch. I’m finally feeling a bit better.
It has been worth it….