On the way home tonight I called in and bought half a kilogram of BBQ pork. There’s a great Chinese BBQ shop on Ultimo Road where they sell duck and pork and all manner of things. Combined with a bit of rice and some Asian vegetables, half a kilogram of BBQ pork – costing $10-12 – can last you a few days. Well, it COULD in most homes, though not mine. The problem is that I really love the way the Chinese do BBQ pork. It’s so bloody tasty, especially those slightly overcooked, sinewy pieces.
My love affair with BBQ pork began when I was living in Perth and had a Chinese restaurant and take-away around the corner. I used to go there every Sunday night, pick up some BBQ pork and come home and watch “Big Brother”. After several weeks of going in and just buying BBQ pork the woman behind the counter asked me why I never wanted rice and greens with it. I told her, I only wanted the pork because she “had the best BBQ pork I’ve ever tasted”. She seemed to accept the argument, though she did mention a few more times that I really should have something else with it.
“Why should I? It’s my little treat to myself”, I began to rationalise, arguing that being away from Sydney for a year meant I could have a few little indulgences: BBQ pork, Big Brother, and then a couple of bevvies at The Court was my Sunday night routine indulgence. Then I’d usually pick up something from the bakery and bring it home. Six years later and I still love BBQ pork, though I do always have some rice and greens with it these days.
The BBQ pork is probably part of the reason why I’m fatter now than I was ten years ago. How do I know this? Today at work I received an email saying I needed to visit security to update my security card ID photograph. The photograph I had on my card was from ten years ago. I was thin (ish), pale, and was wearing a purple shirt and a black denim jacket (yeah, real classy, eh?). That photograph has been replaced by the suit-and-glasses wearing man that I’ve become. I’m better dressed and slightly more tanned these days. I don’t appear to have aged that much, and my hairline is basically the same, but I am a bit chunkier. I’m the same actual weight, so perhaps it’s all muscle? :)
I was 35 then, I’m about to turn 45 now. I was happily in a relationship then; I’m happily single now. I was wondering about my career then; I’m now more happy in my career direction. I was quite prone to bouts of depression then; I seem to manage that better now. My life’s interests then included wine, food and genealogy. Since then, I’ve become far more interested in travel. And my family has probably become more important to me, and I think my role in it, as I’ve aged, and as the older generation has aged even more or sadly, has gone. A lot can happen in ten years, can’t it?