Last week when I was at the newly upgraded wet market, I found a fish stall that stands out from the rest because it sells only fillets — best for a noob like me! Gills and fins scare me. Plus, they display the prices clearly so I know what I’m getting. I came home happily with threadfin (which I made into porridge today!) and snow fish.
I thank God for my neighbour who is almost my foster mum — she brings me to the wet market and tells me how to choose fish, which stall sells the cheapest pork, and how to identify the different vegetables.
The modern wet market is lovely too. It has changed so much since the time I went as a little girl with my mum. It used to feel like entering a dark cave with a funky smell, my slippers kept flicking up up dirty water from the floor and I had to skip over wheels and feet.
Now, the daylight streams in plentifully, the aisles are wide enough for a few shoppers and their trolleys, the meat are refrigerated and you can hardly smell the fish. So I just might become a regular at the wet market and become a bona fide homemaker ha ha!