'Momo' stands for peach in Japanese.

But no, there's no peach involved in this chicken dish.

Momo is also short for Momoko, a name.

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'The best meal I had in Melbourne?'

We were sharing a scallop sandwich in a coffee shop in Yoyogi Park. Or was it the wagashi shop along Omotesando? Okonomiyaki in Osaka? No that was too early. Definitely before the unagi restaurant in Asakusa.

'To be honest?' She asked.

Uhuh.

'That chicken dish you made. It was so good.'

I almost spit out my water.

-

I have a certain quality that attracts the opposite sex to dump their emotional baggage on me.

I've seen so many crying females in my university years, that I had a whole system set up.

Come in, you can talk or not talk. Crying is ok. It's not your fault. You'll get over it. You'll be fine.

Nowadays people pay big money for that.

I should be given at least a medal. An honorary diploma or something.

For being the ruler of the friend zone.

I once questioned if I was gay, because I was pretty much performing the gay friend's duty.

Maybe, everyone knew but myself?

In the end, I concluded it was because I was overweight.

Because by being an overweight man, I also get judged by appearance.

Before you speak, they've already assessed and decided on your ability and how much they are willing to accept you in the club.

Am I fat because I'm an introvert, or am I an introvert because I'm fat?

-

Anyway, I don't remember how I met Momo.
A friend of a friend? She was definitely an exchange student.

I do remember she was very interesting.
As if the social norm did not constrain her.

I mean, who would openly confess to a relationship with her lecturer? I remember staring at the green coffee mug as I processed the information.

I wondered if it's a prank.
Show off?
Cry for help?

Either way, I didn't care at all.

Maybe my muted reaction surprised her too.

-

Back then I just started life as a junior art director in an advertising agency, the keyword being 'junior', which translated to long hours and shit pay.

Have you experienced the dread of looking at a beautiful violet magenta Sunday sunset because that was proof that the weekend was almost over? Just me? Ok.

I did not care if Momo was sleeping with her lecturer or not. Just let me file that conversation into my mind palace so it'd come up as inspiration to make an insurance ad one day.

But, I also remember the joy of cooking on Saturday evenings.

2008 was the golden age for cooking programs. We were promised that cooking is the road to salvation.

Before the future came knocking and we found out we could pay for people to deliver food to our doorsteps.

At least, in my kitchen, no client would interfere and I had control.

Plus, I couldn't afford to eat out.

-

Say what you want about Jamie Oliver, but I believe he genuinely wanted to change the world with food.

Does anyone in Melbourne remember 'Fifteen', the restaurant to give disadvantaged teens an opportunity to be chefs, before it was burned down? Pre-2008 Jamie Oliver was almost a humanitarian.

It was his 'Ministry of Food' movement that got me into cooking.

The message was to help marginalised people cook more, eat better, stay healthy. I think that book really made me realise 'hey, this cooking thing is actually quite simple.'

So when Momo was talking about the 'best' chicken she had in her life, she was talking about Jamie's 'parmesan chicken breast with crispy posh ham', which I've made for ... kinda everyone.

The recipe's available on iTunes podcasts.
Just search 'Jamie Oliver Ministry of Food'.

His constant repetition of the word 'literally' gets annoying but that shouldn't distract you from the fool-proof recipe.

The lemon zest, the cheese, thyme, balsamic vinegar ... like I said, peak Jamie.

All recipes in that podcast channel are solid, especially the banana tarte tatin. (Maybe skip the chow mein lol then again your white spouse might like it.)

Momo probably called to say what's up on a Saturday night (hint: I live near the university) and upon hearing I'm making chicken she decided to crash.

I usually add mashed potatoes at the bottom to make it a complete meal.

That's it - her 'best' meal in Melbourne.

I had no idea it would form such a lasting impression.

I did not ask about her relationship anymore.
Well, she went back to Japan so that's pretty self-explanatory. Last I heard she said she's too tired for a relationship.

I call her up whenever I visit Japan outside of Fukuoka because it gets pretty boring in a big city and you try your best to grasp for a connection. And she's usually available - wait a minute, is this how the turntables?

To think she has a cornerstone memory of my cooking in Melbourne is pretty surreal.

You never know how your action could affect another person, even as mundane as cooking a Jamie Oliver recipe.

If you're struggling with lockdown (no.6 for Melbourne now), remember:

It's ok to cry.
It's not your fault.
You'll get over this.
You'll be fine.