Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thoughts. Show all posts
How to say Goodbye: Version 2018
Labels:
new year,
random musings,
thoughts
·
A few weeks ago, my boyfriend and I called it a day. Threw in the towel, tossed in a couple of hurtful remarks just for dramatic exit effects, left that to sink its roots into each others bruised hearts for a couple of hours, and then we did the inevitable - discuss the custody of the cherished bottles we each had in our possession. Conciliatory, and it seemed horribly contrived too, as if it's been in the works for a while now. At least the lack of clichéd emotional upheaval aided to ease the sadness.
This being the only piece of melancholy in an otherwise good run through the year 2018. Few hours into the crossing over and here I am, wistful, sentimental. But mostly, grateful. After all, it's been a wildly fortuitous year from being named World's 50 Best Tastehunter to the enthralling work trips to bustling Tokyo, fashionable London, cutting-edge Berlin and exotic Cambodia. In casting my nets further and wider, I've been blessed with a journey like no other. 2018, you've gifted me with unrelenting opportunity, fulfilment and unforgettable memories. Some of which I'll cherish for a good long time.
I admit. It wasn't all easy. In 2017, I entered the year, broken, that feign image of a normal person barely recognisable in the mirror. Every inch and every piece, every nook and cranny of my entirety, crushed into smithereens. There were the constant tears that fell thick and hot, and the relentless pain that never seem to subside, only blurring into the background with the encouragement of a good old friend - alcohol. I was careful - safe-guarded my heart with fortified walls like a guarded citadel, only lowering the drawbridge when a bearded knight appeared at the front.
Undeniably, my previous encounter left me a doleful creature. But just like Rose who clung on so desperately to the bobbing door frame in the icy seas, I latched on like it was the only air to my lungs. We had our good days, I learnt to lean on his level-headed nature for work advice and his chirpy nature as a docking hub to rebuild my wings. Still, my traumatic marriage (which thankfully was absolved in the eyes of the law) had inadvertently left me determined never to need anyone again, to never be a hostage to emotional fortune. Perhaps I'm to blame. This hardwired screen accompanied by incredibly wilful behaviour and a lack of accountability leading to a fundamental distrust. Our bad days took us through plenitude of silent treatment, blame and superficial apologies. And when this drags on long enough, even the strongest of communication highways and its weathered sinkholes will crumble to result in the emergence of two separate thought islands. Such was the story of us. The long distance didn't help either.
For what it was worth, it was real. I will not discount the fact that in the aftermath of such emotional devastation, his love and concern were the treasured crutches that got me back on my feet. He opened up this family and home to me, blending me into the hearts and minds of some of the kindest, most genuine folks I've ever met. However, it became evident that the both of us lived in fear of putting ourselves at risk. The months and the days passed mindlessly without further assurance, without future investments. I've never been in a relationship and felt so lonely. Perhaps that was for the best, the long drawn moments of quietude allowing for healing and self reflection.
We split up a day after his and my birthday. A move I considered tactful (I did foot my fair share of the bill), but he deemed cruel and insensitive on the wallet. At least there was no time for agonising, the distance forming a natural blister to protect the underlying layers from infection.
2018, thank you for closing some doors. Its gutting, but its paving way for fate to clear away what's not meant for us. Divy, thank you for co-writing this chapter of my life with me, one that involves transition, soul-searching and strengthening A part of me will always love you. Now, it's time to focus on the relationship I've had with this person I've known for 32 years of my life - Me.
And in the case that love finds its way to my doorstep again... I won't live in fear that letting myself be loved automatically means putting myself at risk. I will allow my heart to love completely - not simply in pieces out of desperate self-preservation. It won't define my worth, instead, its course determines the magnitude of my love for you.
A wise man once told me the thrill behind wakeboarding lies therein the fact that it commands a ton of bravery because it inevitably ends with a fall. Truthfully, most things that are worth it in life are required a little risk somehow. I'll embrace the imminent fear of pain, if only in hope of the rewards after. I won't carry all the emotional baggage I've been holding on to. I won't keep beating myself up over things about me that aren't perfect.
Next year, I will allow myself to be loved.
Hong Kong Street family restaurant: Zi Char that is easy on the wallets
Labels:
bedok north,
chinese,
chinese food,
family friendly,
love,
thoughts
·
Recently, a dearest friend of mine announced her short trip back to Singapore and Malacca. I was to pick her up from the airport and decide on a dinner venue suitable to satisfy the hankerings of a starving Asian (especially after her flight). After feverishly flipping through my choices mentally, I settled on Hong Kong Street Family Restaurant situated in Bedok North; just a short ride away from the airport.
A Zi Char restaurant in air-conditioned settings, this no frills joint offers a wide array of dishes not uncommon to most neighbourhood coffee shop joints. However, truth is that the menu is dotted with handful of gems, if you heed advice and order the recommended items, you'll certainly be in for a treat.
The Prawn Paste Chicken gets my strong stamp of approval. Salty, aromatic and crisp, this version is extremely addictive, so go ahead and order a bigger plate if you must. Definitely a place to get my Ha Jiong Gai fix.
Our next dish of Stir Fried Sweet potato leaves was a mandatory vegetable order that proved a little mainstream, paling in comparison to Soup Kitchen's rendition. Not flavoursome enough and cooked a little too Al-Dente, the greens failed to impress.
Next up, the signature San Lou Hor Fun, which comes with a commendable amount of delicate fish slices and delectably sauced and slightly charred noodles. Definitely one of the better ones I've tried locally.
Last of all, the Cereal Prawns. I adore this dish, choosing to succumb to it as I slowly spooned by way through the mountain of nestum flakes on the plate. The combination of sweet with the savouriness of the crispy prawns complimented with the occasional curry leaf for that aromatic touch was certainly well executed in this dish.
Hong Kong Street Family Restaurant, judging from the throngs of people filling the dining area on a typical weekend night; has won the hearts of many patrons with it's simple zi char dishes done to top notch standards. Should you have a family occasion approaching and am afraid to burn too big a hole in your pockets, this place would definitely be a good choice.
A picture thrown in for good measure. To Elicia, who is safely back in Sydney once more... Till we meet again my friend.
20 Eastwood Road
#01-03
Tel: 62453881
The Essence of Christmas
A severely late but mandatory Christmas Dinner post. I was reminded of the essence of Christmas this year as being a celebration of God's gift of salvation and love to us. Misrepresented by modern practices, it is not the gifts nor the food and the making merry that make up Christmas but our hearts in communal gratitude while receiving God's precious gift.
Still.. there must be food. Hence...
an excessive 3 turkeys on the chopping block = turkey sandwiches for a good long time.
Homemade Pork roulade with apple sauce
a never-ending traffic of busy hands grappling for food over the dining table.
The Best of Year 2012
Labels:
australia,
cookies,
family,
Le Cordon Bleu,
pastry,
sydney,
thoughts,
travelling
·
I had this depressing notion that new years day was nothing but an overrated day celebrated by fools around the world despite it being a mere continuation of life's mundane-ties. Then it came to pass that even story books should have chapters, the purpose of it's existence very much applicable to the essence of the new years day celebration. (view here). This time around, the change of location and point of view being predominant. No kidding, but its time to pick up the pace and focus on new goals and resolutions in the coming years. Entering a new phase of life.
My resolutions these year are a mash up of so many things that it almost appears like a disarray of false hope. But more importantly, for the new year, I pray that God grant me strength to manifest my big dreams and reward me with the courage to face new experiences.
What follows is a recap of the previous year. I hope that they inspire you to reflect on the richness of your year.
Single best thing that happened this past year?
Attending Pastry school @ Le Cordon Bleu (Sydney) with a follow up of a 7 month internship at Cheeky Chocolate where I worked with the most fantastic team in the world. Thanks Elicia, Yumi, Adele, Mia, Edwin and Andy for the many good experiences. Chef life just wouldn't have been the same with all those wild nights of drinking games. Tsk. (Read more about my experiences here)
single most challenging thing that happened?
Participating in the Callebaut Hunter Valley Entremet competition. Many weeks of trial and work finally led to a silver medal worthy piece. Never did saw it coming, but with the encouragement of my dearest Chef Andre, I pulled through.
What was an unexpected joy this past year?
My nga nga, who stuck with me relentlessly through my overwhelming negativity.
Pick three words to describe 2012
surreal, restorative, tough
Best dining experience in 2012
That would be dining in the Qantas first class lounge in Sydney terminal. A big thank you going out to Darryl who pulled a fast one to grant us access. Who would have thought we would be dining on lavish fare in slippers...
In what way(s) did you grow in your relationships with others?
catching up with many relationships that I have neglected over the past years and most importantly reuniting with the girls (you know who you are!)
What was biggest thing you learned this past year?
Once you decide on your occupation... you must immerse yourself in your work. You have to fall in love with your work. Never complain about your job. You must dedicate your life to mastering your skill. That's the secret of success... and is the key to being regarded honorably -- taken off "Jiro dreams of Sushi"
Lastly, Happy new year to all my readers. In this new year, eat sweet and stay sweet always!
I'll leave you with some shots of my works over at BakersWorld through the festive season... Stay tuned for my next post on the season of festive gorgings!
Log cakes designed by yours truly for the Xmas sales. Chocolate Banana logcake versus Mango, White Chocolate and Coconut log.
Chinese New Year cookies already up for grabs and available for corporate orders as well.
Dining out: Qantas Sydney First Class Lounge
Labels:
australia,
restaurants,
thoughts,
travelling
·
as Gerald Butler's character narrates in the latest movie 'Chasing Mavericks', "fear and panic are two separate emotions. Fear is healthy, panic is dangerous." and thus evoking torrent of thought bubbles through my head. Okay, maybe I should release the catch to the panic button.
Recollections of this past years ridiculous acts come crashing down on me. A collation of memories so vivid yet so distant from the current reality of my now imprisoned world. and ohh.. the upcoming holidays.. Christmas and Chinese New Year.. daunting celebrations for any pastry chef when the prospects of over-bearing orders weighs down heavily. I reckon my new year will be non-existent.
As for new year resolutions... it's time to brainstorm a few. Not that I think I need any adjustments from the previous years except for a relocation. One thing's for sure, its time to pick up the pace. Adventure racing, holidays to Bali with the girlies, business proposals in the pipelines and maybe more self-exploratory backpacking trips. Let's not get ahead of myself though, as far as we know the month of November will disappear in a flurry of meetups and December in a sweet ripple of cream and sugar. It's safe to say that today will be a quiet and simple friday night. So let's take this day to tally the feeding session that led up to my arrival in town.
flight delays... ahh..a turf i'm rather familiar with. Sorry dar for dragging you into the murky waters with my shadow of bad luck. An incessant pursuer. Thank goodness with some strings pulled, we managed to get ourselves into the Qantas first class lounge. A real upgrade given that we were homebound on a budget airline.
preflight gluttony, I wasn't sure of what I was getting myself into. But within minutes of stepping into the lounge, met with a cold gush of fragrance laden air, I was intimidated. These people that we see lounging around with their expensive hand carriages and state of the art hand held technologies, are willing to spend thousands of dollars just for a plane ticket. In some instances, not only for themselves but for their 6 year old daughter still innocently cradling a bunny stuff toy. And here we're only talking about taking a plane, a mode of transport we deem so trivial; that we use it as the biggest avenue for budget cuts when it comes to making travel plans. Golly... Thank goodness for the lovely hostess from Singapore, a personal friend of our chef acquaintance who made us feel so at home.
Presenting us with a menu each and the authority to order anything we please. It was like setting a bunch of monkeys loose in the streets. We went at it like ravenous rabbits. Add Neil Perry to the equation and we knew we were in good hands.
Not to mention, the enchanting views of Sydney City across the tarmac naturally enhanced our appetites. Gorgeousness when paired with the radiance of the setting sun.
For starters we had the Sashimi of Bluefin Tuna with organic soy dressing. This was absolutely delicious. The complexity of the dressing covering up for any inadequacies in terms of freshness of the fish.
Then we went on to devour another pretty dish. The Shaw river buffalo Mozzarella with spring greens and lemon oil. With such delicate flavors on the plate, the creaminess of the handmade mozzarella really stood out. The crispness of the zucchini flowers reinforcing it's richness.
My favorite dish of the night had to be the salt and pepper squid with green chili sauce. Fried to perfection, the batter stuck to the firm yet juicy flesh of the squid. Paired with the spicy Thai inspired chili sauce and a dollop of aioli for the nudge of sour tang, it was just a symphony of bright notes on the palate. An excellent dish.
Mains were the Tasmanian Salmon, caper, lemon and anchovy butter with pancetta crisps and leeks for me. Paired with a glass of Heemskerk Riesling 2001 from Tasmania. And the Lamb Cutlets with rosemary and Parmesan crumb for the boy. These were mediocre albeit for the sides that were thoroughly engaging. The leeks were cooked beautifully and I wished I had a whole plate of that to chow down on. Whereas the classic slaw that came with his dish had top notch seasoning in the works.
As we sat by the couches, the lights being dimmed to a pale amplitude, we waited for our delayed plane to begin boarding in silent contemplation. I pondered. I reckon this will be the first and last time I ever step into a first class lounge. Not because I don't think I'll ever be able to afford it. Besides, what are the odds being a pastry chef and all? And even so in some parallel universe I do earn a fortune, I would never bear the investment of throwing it all on a first class ticket whilst I can instead spend more on a luxury hotel stay or even an out of this world adventurous experience. Priorities my dear...
Still, it was a surreal experience not to be forgotten.
Note: Some of the photos in this post are courtesy of Fabian Brimfield of Fly me Funky. Thank you very much for the wonderful shots.
Another one bites the dust
I know you aren't incorrigible.
But you swallowed my streusel bits and I hate you. I remember watching dumbfoundedly as the rising cake batter enveloped the chunks of buttery goodness I had laid nicely over the top.
Sometimes in life, things just unwind in the unruly manner. And when you do not reap the efforts that you've painstakingly sowed, you develop a tinge of bitterness. It may not reflect in such a pronounced manner on your behavior, but infects a subtler portion of your emotive response to future challenges. For me, I just heave a sigh of disappointment and tuck into a slice of warm cake.
Interestingly, the streusel had sunk to the bottom of the cake, building a crispy base like structure to it. It tasted ten times better 2 days later, by the end of 3 days, the cake was wiped off the platter.
Kudos to failed experiments turned brilliant moments.
Hold on
Labels:
thoughts
·
It's true
An affirmation slips from my lips
I'll tell you what you want to hear.
This once.
'I'll never understand what's it like to be you.'
The fiddler on the roof witnesses
our struggles and strives
His woes, on misalignment of pocket fund delegation.
Her dire need to be embraced.
A history that weighs down heavily.
The fiddler snitches a mocking laughter at the scene.
We exchange bites.
Like savage hyenas.
The hurt just bleed a little more.
Hope dangles on a string.
Time will be my slow redemption.
My dear,
there is still space for a little beauty in this wicked world.
So hold on.
with me...
Circus antics
Labels:
thoughts
·
We get locked in our vaults,
and we stay...'
pack our bags and hit the skies.
Labels:
thoughts
·
That idea of escapism... these words could sum up my life.
Basket Case
Labels:
thoughts
·
let me tell you more about my yesterday. So I did fulfill one of my long time dreams... yes I caught Sara Bareilles live in concert. And boy was I blown away... she's just so much better live than recorded. Well, I do have the acoustics within the concert hall had a part to play in this AMAZING performance (yes, I was quite amused by her lack of a better word during the prelude to the concert). One thing that enhanced the entire experience was her lovely personality and bubbly jovial self while interacting with the audience. When the sweet words "some people should just mind their fucking business" escaped her lips, the crowd went ballistic ! This was followed by a terrific rendition of 'King of Anything', where the audience participated by crooning on top of their lungs.
You would then ask why do I have an affiliation to Sara'a music? Well, the answer is simple, in 2006, when the song, 'gravity' was released, I took to the song with incredible emotive attraction; probably because I was dealing with an extremely bad relationship there and then. The words that flowed so painfully from her powerful lungs reached out to my wretched soul, soothing the cracks. At least there was someone out there who understood my woes, feel my agony. From that point on, I had recognized Sara Bareilles as an talented song writer and gifted artiste; purchased her album and literally took to reading all the lyrics of her song, developing a deeper understanding for her expressive yet bemusing teasing of words. Somehow or another, I could relate to all her songs, developing a relationship with a different song each time my life reached a crossroad. Some of my favorite songs include 'Love on the Rocks','Between the Lines', 'Basket Case' and 'Say you're sorry'.
And watching her in concert yesterday was certainly an unearthly experience. After a tear-worthy rendition of 'basket case', she followed it with a last act of 'gravity' (extremely wise move). And as I left the darkness of the concert hall into the light, her soulful voice reverberates through my head... somehow or another, I had attained a state of liberty, a mind at peace.
I love you Sara Bareilles.
I'm not an open book that you can rifle through
The cold hard truth that you'll see right to
I'm just basket case without you
He's not a magic man or a perfect fit
But had a steady hand and I got used to it
And a glass cage heart and invited me in
And now I'm just a basket case without him
You're begging for the truth
So I'm saying it to you
I've been saving your place
And what good does it do?
Now I'm just a basket case
Now I'm just a basket case
Picking Shoes
Labels:
thoughts
·
New Fred Perry Shoes to replace my old flame, the radically snug river island ones that I acquired about 3 years ago. Never to be superseded by any other despite my incessant hankering after white shoes of all kinds. Until now of course...
My gaze shifted quickly to the white figure parading the shelves. This was it, love at first sight. Slipping it on my bare feet, I adored the gentle carressement of its touch. I needed no reassurances, no deep pondering moments. It was a painless, heart-led choice.
I deserve it. A little self justification going on here. Please bear with me.
Someday I will come across some radiant choice in life as evident and as prominent as this one. What it may concern, that remains a mystery.
In the Making: Oven Heaven
Trepidation, anxiety, zeal and a spritz of hope. The current mixture to our project 'Oven Heaven'.
I'm praying that my shipment clears customs without a hitch. But some how I have my doubts.
Now I've got deal with conditional release requests for shipment to be signed where inspection of my deferred consignments will be carried out at my warehouse.
I wish I had a runner. During my recent visit to the Karama Dubai Municaplity office, I took a quick peek at the crowd in the room and realise that I was the only non-Indian. Having the food control department staff pointing to your name on the trade license and asking you 'so, who's your boss?' is a rather awkward experience.
erh... 'I am?'
More updates soon.
The story ends.
There are days
when I feel
The best of me
is ready to begin (the end)
Then there's (the) days
when I feel
I'm letting go
and soaring on the wind
'Cause I've learned in laughter or in pain
How to survive!
I get on my knees!
I get on my knees!
There I am before the Love
That changes me
See I don't know how
But there's power
When I'm on my knees
I can be
in a crowd
Or by myself
and almost anywhere
When I feel
there's a need
To talk with God
He is Emmanuel
When I close my eyes,
no darkness there
There's only light!
I get on my knees
I get on my knees
There I am before the Love that changes me
See I don't know how, but there's power
In the blue skies, in the midnight
When I'm on my knees
I get on my knees
I get on my knees
There I am before the Love
That changes me
See I don't know how, but there's power
When I'm on my, oh, when I'm on my
When I'm on my knees
For those who don't already, I've pulled the plug on a long standing relationship with my babe; and to all those who already know that bit, I figured that a bit of explanation would be good.
So it took me a dreadfully long three years to realize that as much as I enjoyed our time together, he was not the one that I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. At least not with a little bit of resentment going on. Truthfully, the both of us started off on the wrong foot, mostly on my part as I was extremely sore from a past relationship, and what he had to offer me was a safe haven, far away from from the hurtful past and uncertainties lurking. There, he nursed my wounds, putting a smile to my face when I thought that all was dead; slowly the gaps in my heart closed up an genuine joy creep into my heart every time he is near. Grateful for his tireless efforts, I stuck with him. With that, three years snuck past, and I came to a startling realization that my love for him constituted large amounts of gratitude and guilt. In my heart, I knew that he was giving all he was capable of just to please me whereas I had nothing to give him in return.
Then, it came time for me to pack up and leave for Dubai; as most long distance relationships are, this was not easy. Without counting on his daily efforts to see me everyday, our relationship dwindled to the point where I steered clear of calls and messages from him in my bid for freedom. Clearly I lacked the dedication and commitment to this in contrary to his positive outlook on it in entirety. Then, it came to dawn that I didn't love him as much as he loved me; and I couldn't deal with that. I had to let go of it lest both of us get even more hurt in the end. And that's how the story ends.
To babe, I don't know whether you'll be reading this, but I want to thank you with all the heartfelt gratitude in me for leading me through the storm, for giving till you've got nothing to give. You were never in the wrong, nor can you do anymore to become the one. I'm sorry for hurting you like this, but I don't want you to suffer a larger blow in time to come. Thank you for loving me and teaching me how to love again. May the Lord continue to bless you and guide you as you walk thru life with him on your right side. Be strong.
in transit
Labels:
coffee,
food,
restaurants,
thoughts,
travelling
·
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now"
as much I find Ryan's (George Clooney) jetsetting lifestyle potrayed in the movie 'Up in the air' a little disconcerting. I must admit that I do enjoy the frequent air lifts quite a bit. Residing in the fact that it provides me with a certain facade of independence and reclusiveness.
One thing I enjoy the most about taking to the skies alone is pre-flights drinks in solitude. Grabbing a coffee and plonking my arse down at a table, tiny sips of the piping hot adrenaline induced drink, the quick flip of a magazine, inquisitive eyes observing the moving subjects intently. Then with a quick flip of orientation, you come to face the tarmac in their bustle of activity. Then you realise that as much as you think your flight schedule is incredibly tight and rushed; in the grand scheme of things, it is nothing but the flight of a grain of sand as the wind ripples thru the desert floors.
I recall when I was younger, I was terrified as hell of planes. The taking-off and the landing portions as well as the relentless turbulence experienced on long haul flights. In my recollection, I must have barfed on almost every flight we took to the states for our school holiday trips. But as I grew older, a little taller and perhaps a little more tolerant, the flights evolved into a acceptably painful experience (more so for the buttocks and the painful joints resulting from the lack of oxygen in the cabins). However, with the onset of age, the fear of dying on a flight escalated ten fold ( the scene of the airplane exploding in mid air in final destination didn't help either), I would stay awake and pray relentlessly and most fervently each time the plane took a sudden dip in the changing air currents.
Strange enough, I encountered a recent flight where I felt absolute peace in my heart. I may have confused it with a distressing period which resulted in suicidal tendencies but I doubt so. Then, I came to a serene acknowledgement that I could let everything go, that if I were to leave the world at this instant, I would have no regrets whatsoever. And I savoured that fleeting moment. Have you ever felt like that?
Breakfast was at Old Town White Coffee @ the KL airport before my short flight back to Singapore where I spent the better of the trip nodding off my seat in frightening dips, much to the dismay of my poor neighbor. Thick Kaya Toast and a cup of hot Kopi-C. A bite of nostalgia and a sip of fond memories as I did partake in the meal.
There's always something about hot coffee and coconut jam that makes me miss home even more. And as I scribble this post down, miles away from humble abode, it leaves my jumbled thoughts scrambled on a blank slate.
I miss home. I miss you.
Old Town White Coffee
Kuala Lumpur Airport (KLA)
i was supposed to...
Labels:
thoughts
·
but i stumbled upon a bunch of old photos and decided that maybe I could share some of the nostalgic memories that invaded my mind whilst browsing through the collection.
Have you ever recieved a kiss that sent happy vibes like a fistful of loose tissue papers set loose in the sudden gust of wind. It feels like this...
and I miss it.
Have you ever had the urge to kiss someone? You close your eyes, hold your breathe and lean forward, with trepidation and anticipation, whispering a silent prayer in your heart that perhaps the other would love you back the same way. It feels like this...
and I miss it.
Have you attended your own birthday party only to find out that you weren't the life of the party but it was okay anyway since it was the only excuse for you to enjoy the company of those dearest to you? It feels like this...
and needless to say,
I miss it too.
she told me that she wants to be a raindrop
Rewind a few days back. I woke up to a scene of perfect serenity, something I would perhaps have take forgranted should I be living in the tropics of Singapore. What greeted my eyes was a patchwork of damp darkened areas spotting the otherwise depressing grey tarred roads, a mystifying weight hanging in the airs surrounding. A quick sniff, rain, yes. I drew in a deep breath, a reflection baring an uncanny smile looks back.
There's just something about the smell of rain that puts this inexplicable swell of joy in my heart. I guess this could be best explained by the thousands of memories evoked with this familiar smile. Should it have been linked to dread or even overwhelming peace at that point of time, it all boiled down to one thing, memories. The thing that drives me.
One quick drawl of the humid air and my mind drifted; the strenuous circuit trainings around macritchie reservoir; doing the Indian dribble during hockey practise whilst the sprinklers cast a spray of odd smelling water in the wake of its rainbow path; my walk with God in the rain; feeling all fidgety and restless in the afternoons as the humidity evolves into a suppressive blanket that proceeds to suffocate its victims; navigating the streets of Ho Chi Minh, soaked to the bone from the torrential rains; playing make-believe heroes and villains while endearing thru a 3hr trek to a obscure waterfall in Tasmania. I closed my eyes, and allow the kaleidoscope of memories to envelop me in its blissful resonance.
My dear readers, what are your memories of the rain?
And if there's anything more perfect in accompaniment to the memory frolicking time, it would have to be a slice of fig cake and a cup of hot milk tea. Join me would you?
Fig cake for a rainy day
adapted from Jill O'Conner's 'Sticky, Chewy, Messy, Gooey'
makes a 8 inch cake
For the dried fig jam:
5 ounces dried figs
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups water
For the Cake:
1 cup unbleached all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/2 stick unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1 large egg
1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup boiling water
3/4 cup chopped walnuts, toasted
Make the Jam:
Coarsely chop the figs and combine with the sugar and water in a large, heavy bottomed saucepan. Bring to boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to achieve a gentle simmer and cook the figs, covered until tender, about 1 hr. Let cool slightly, then puree the mixture in a food processor until smooth.
Position the rack in the middle and preheat the oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Lightly grease an 8 inch baking tin, line the pan.
Make the cake:
Sift the flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt into a small bowl. Set aside. In a large bowl, using a electric mixer set at medium speed beat together the oil, butter and sugar until creamy and combined. Beat in the egg. Beat in the vanilla. Using a spatula, fold in the flour mixture just until combined. Stir in the boiling water, 1 cup of fig jam and walnuts. Spread the batter evenly in the prepared pan and bake until wooden skewer inserted in the center comes out clean, around 30-35 mins.
Transfer to a wire rack and let cool. Sprinkle with confectioners sugar. Cut into slices and enjoy it whilst watching the raindrops.
for the lingering souls
No words... just food.
Chicken
The maplejacks (from Ireland) in action. Pretty awesome stuff.
P.S. The Tiger Chilli Crab Festival was organised and held at Souk Madinat Jumeirah.
P.P.S The dim sum was pretty bad. In all honesty...
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