It's a subject I never took when I was in my secondary years. We had a choice between Perdagangan or ERT and for some undomesticated reasons I took the former. Two classes after, I regreted my choice as our teacher Miss Lee's enthusiasm was a notch milder to Hurricane Katrina.
I could never remember learning anything from her class. We were either too stunned of her voice or too frozen to connect any brain activities. It was the exact scenario when you have your ghosts infested nightmares, you just don't dare to move a single muscle for fear of being noticed. Everyone sat still, praying she didn't point her index finger to our faces during her question and answer sessions. I found out much later after I left school that she was admitted to an asylum. I knew those eyes were too deep a stare. I am glad she went to place that could make her feel better.
My daughter is currently taking ERT and it was not of her choosing. The system goes by name fortunately. I am thankful she was forced to take the subject as I want her to be more domesticated than I was and anyway I was always curious of the lessons taught in this subject.
Yesterday morning she made us breakfast. A plate full of skon titis was served for us to enjoy and scrutinize. I had a smile on my face for her effort, it's a good sign. We thanked her for what looked like American pancakes but she was adamant it was skon titis. But we enjoyed our breakfast nonetheless whatever name it deserved to be called.
The syllabus of ERT focuses on among other things the many types of Malaysian cooking ranging from the traditional kuihs to some modern ones. I flipped through her book and felt very relieved that this should be a subject she could do well in. Names like kuih rengas, lompang, seri muka, pulut inti, lopes, keria, tepung talam, tepung pelita to name a few ring many bells in my ears. There are recipes too which jolted me with the excitement to try. But my happiness was shortlived when she produced me her exam result for this subject. She just managed a 65. The bells that rang in my ears were missing in hers. She didn't know most of the kuihs mentioned above, neither did she know what are they made of nor how they looked and tasted. Uninitiated, she just could not produce good understandings, hence the poor results. And I haven't been the exemplary mum either to introduce these interesting kuihs to her. Sigh.
So yesterday, I brought her to the pasar malam and we bought one of each of the kuihs mentioned in her book and later had a tasting session. As expected, she didn't like most of them and I ended up eating all of them. ;o)
And these thighs now resemble more of Robocop's. Semua gara2 ERT!