Almost a week ago, I bought one of my favourite dishes: rice cake with fried egg, tofu, bean sprouts, and oozing peanut sauce. I immediately dug my head in and savoured each bite; given the size, I could only finish half of the dish, so I decided to keep the other half for another day. It would be perfect when I’m peckish and in the mood for something street and salty.

Yesterday, when I opened the refrigerator, I spotted the container with my half dish perfectly snuggled on the right-hand side, on the third shelf. I told myself I would finish that dish the next day, maybe as a brunch or an appetiser before a large meal. Last night, I thought about the dish before I went to sleep; my tongue danced, and I was glad I saved that dish for another day.

Bright and early this morning, I walked to the refrigerator and looked for the dish but could not find it. It was the strangest thing. I immediately asked my mother’s cook in charge of the kitchen. She told me she had not seen it and did not know what happened to it. So, I texted my sister, asking if she might have given it away, but she said no, she had not.

I was so confused by then. The food could not have walked out of the fridge by itself, wouldn’t it?

What happened a few hours after, however, cleared the air.

I returned to the fridge and looked into it again, opening each Tupperware and studying each content thoroughly. This time, on the left-hand side of the third shelf, was the same container used to house my half dish, still with its cover glued on the top. My eyes popped. I opened the container and saw three pieces of raw tempeh. Right then and there, I sighed a sigh of relief. That solved the mystery. My mother’s cook had emptied the remaining dish and re-used the container for her raw tempeh. I told my sister, and she agreed. We both laughed. Although my mother’s cook was still adamant, she knew nothing of it; at least, I knew there was no ghost in the house that stole our food.

Why is this case critical?

This case reminded me that everything has an explanation.

In a modern world, mysteries and secrets are not caused by witches or demons. In a modern world, mysteries are often the result of well, in this case, an unclear mind.

My mother’s cook had served our family since we were children, and she is now part of our family. She is in her seventies now, and some memories might have gone, as is all things with age. Our cook’s repressed desires, or the slowing of her brain, could be one of the reasons why my favourite dish was gone. Maybe the half dish that I bought on the street annoyed her, and throwing it made her feel better. She might not have had any bad intentions, but deep down, she might; who really knew?