Dining out: Qantas Sydney First Class Lounge
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.
Everything has changed
Something happened today that rattled a nostalgic bone of mine.
Most of you would not know this, but I regret not writing a post/diary entry or any form of written recount of the stories that occurred back during my 8 month stint in the army. Yes I know it might have been years ago, but still, the experience, the hardships, the friendships fostered, these were beautiful and worth remembering in every right. So with the passing of my very first overseas study experience, I shall enumerate it's unfolding. Burn the candle on both ends till its done, lest my procrastination habits kick in.
I'm bringing in the coffee on this one. it's going to be a long night.
So it started off with a very innocent request to the parents to study patisserie in Le Cordon Bleu whilst in my third year of university. Back then, it was a struggle, we're not even talking about keeping the grades up but my hopes were sinking like a dead weight to the bottom of the sea. Working thru the dark period and the other middle eastern drama that ensued afterwards, I finally earned my keeps to an entirely new experience.
Flashing back to the first moment i stepped out of Sydney airport, the cold winter air slapping me across the face. I never felt so alive before, the past few years of self inflicted pain, like a load, shoved off my shoulders. I took my a breath of liberty. My first.
Living in Australia strangely made me a very independent individual. I fed myself when I was hungry (not too difficult when you have all the leftover bakes from school), clothed myself warmly for the winter, got around to places (public transport is pretty convenient in sydney too) and found myself jobs just to earn my keeps. let's see, I started off being a waitress at a small cafe in Balmain, that stint lasted for about 7 months, Loved the wraps and the lebanese themed specials. Then I juggled the job of pastry cook at a dessert bar specialising in dessert pizzas in the form of cinnamon scroll like delights stuffed with a myriad of ingredients including brownie, streusel, bananas, chocolate sauce and apple pie mixture. Following an unanticipated closing down of the business, I moved on to become a dishwasher at a nearby cafe/restaurant near my area of residence. Needless to say, I smelt of food everyday, the stench of sweat coupled with splatters of grease on my black shirt following me into the soft sheets of my bed. From there, I was promoted to kitchen hand where I started to deal with food preparation, slicing, dicing, marination and gradually moved up to the pass where I got to take charge of the sauces and garnish stations for breakfast. That deserves an honorable mention, I feel, as I listen to the sweet rambling of my classmates going on and on about their tiresome part time work at patisseries; I on the other hand was busting it out in a proper cuisine kitchen. My fingers burnt and swollen from handling the hot cast iron pans on the grill. Battle scars as we call them... The day the chef called in a new dishwasher to handle my old job, I smiled whilst passing on words of advice as he scurried around like a headless chicken; the boiling hot pans and oily dishes piled up to dizzy heights. I had gone somewhere...
School on the other hand seemed the opposite spectrum of what the real world is like. Slow paced and extremely laidback.. i mostly took the time to absorb whatever I could while fooling around with whatever I could lay my hands on. making taiwanese meat pies out of quiches and curry chicken to go along with the fresh baguettes from our ovens; I was known to most of my chefs as 'the girl who would always does something different'; not sure whether that's a good thing or bad thing, i mostly like to believe its the former.
The terms flew by like the wind.. basic, intermediate and then superior. With the final judgement of our original gateau, it was off to the working world. Out of God's blessing, I landed myself a job in Cheeky Chocolate at North Strathfield. Lucky since I was competing with many of my graduating classmates for the job. But the serious work only ensued after my participation in the Hunter Valley Callebaut Chocolate Entremet competition. After weeks of hard work, tormenting sessions of brainstorming, trials and tears of befuddlement; the D-day had finally arrived. All the anticipation and nervousness just disappeared on the day of the event, plating up completed like a breeze. Perhaps it was the venue, the proximity of hunter valley from our work benches in Sydney that made any form of regrets or hopes for last minute adjustments almost impossible that somehow put my mind at ease. The prospect of an imminent ending bestowed in my heart. At the end of the day, I emerged a silver medalist. A huge feat considering I was a total noob in the scene and it was an open competition with many of my peers having been in the pastry scene for much longer than I have.
A million thanks goes out to my mentor and head chef Andre Sandison for his constant guidance and gentle prodding in the process of research and development. Thank you for not letting go of your expectations towards me.
Life in Cheeky Chocolate was another out of this world experience. Whilst I happily sunk myself into a comfortable pace of learning at work, a sudden turn of events left us handicapped in numbers. Yumi, I and Adele struggled to keep the place afloat. we hit rock bottom when a new head chef entered our midst and stirred up chaos in the kitchen, abolishing certain production rituals whilst creating non-sensical others. With a demonic temper to boot and a not so domineering idea of a menu in tow, it wasn't long before he was given the boot. Despite his short term of stay, the damages had been done.... we had lost another in the midst of the friction caused between the boss and our dearest apprentice. There I was left to pick up the broken pieces of the shop. It was a miracle I found a team in time to help me speed up the recuperation process. Till date, I hold this as a proudest achievement. Not that I got any recognition out of it (maybe an article in the strathfield good food guide), but still, silently I recognize my capabilities when put to the pressure test.
With all that done. you would wonder why in the world would I return to singapore given that my basic pay in Australia was at least double the amount I would receive here. That's where I left out a part of the story. The part that tugs at my heart string and releases butterflies into the cavities of my vacant heart. G. Had it not been for him, I wouldn't have had a blast in school. G rubbed my swollen ankles before bedtime, listening to my tales of braving the cockroach infested backalley while dragging the trashbags to the main bins. G kept me warm thru those cold nights. G nurtured me back to health after a bout of flu which put me through a series of vomiting spells on the way home from work, G accompanied me to the beach at sunrise just because I wanted to. I only joined the hunter valley competition because G was taking part in the chocolate showpiece event. G laughed at my lame jokes and silly antics and made me feel much less of a dork than I am. G and I went to beautiful places to enjoy spell binding moments together. G helped me pull through my experience at Cheeky, giving advice and listening to my complaints all in symphony.
And to sum it all up, G is my reason.
the story doesn't end here
Today's struggles are none like I've experienced in a long time. Long strings of successful bakes and lucky first time trials in Australia reduced to a bunch of less than satisfactory products here in Singapore. At one juncture, exasperated and highly irritated by the soaring temperatures and moisture laden air, it felt as thought I was back at square one. The year and a half of professional training rendered down to nothing, like a piece of chuck reduced to gravy in a pot of slow simmering heat.
It lead me to question myself, could it be the inferior ingredients (diary products and quality of milled flour and nuts as well as the state of couveture), the deadly curtain of humid air hanging around like an unwanted friend or the heat that made working with high fat content pastries an impossible feat... That being said, I now have a new found respect for homebakers and pastry chefs in singapore who dare to strive for excellence in an environment that doesn't quite support its growth. Also,its understandable why good quality french pastries are so hard to come by here, and if they are discovered, their high prices justifiable. At the end of the day, I came to a conclusion. Despite all these oddities at stake, it all boils down to the chef. Instead of shifting the blame to the conditions, I should re-evaluate my attitude. In the evident failures to come, the fine-tuning of recipes being a major concern to befit this alien environment, I shall remain strong-willed cause good things come to those who wait.
on a side note, today I change my headnote from "pastry chef to be" to an official pastry chef. Celebrate yo.. it's my graduation. Thanks to all my lovelies who have steered me on this path and all the rest who have my journey unforgettable.
my love, let's create a revolution.
and we've got touch down.
First order of the day, taste testing of a few macarons around the island.
Our first stop brought us to Obolo at the newly furbished (i might be outdated on this one. Pardon me) Katong Mall where we shared the cassis, salted caramel chocolate and champagne macarons. Of the trio, the salted caramel chocolate stood out as the best of the lot ( to me only) trailed closely by the champagne flavored one. As for the poor ole' cassis, half of it landed up in the bin. It's fate sealed by its puckerish dark chocolate ganache that failed miserably at showcasing the flavor of cassis in a favourable light. Perhaps it's because of the recent amazing renditions we had recently that threw the competition overboard. essentially we got ruined by Laduree's fine execution with its cassis macaron. Darn it.
Next up, Antoinette on Penhas Road. That was a major disappointment with innards that left a chalky feel in the mouth. Clearly overbaked, I pondered why is there this common trend throughout the range that we had taste tested throughout the day. Could it be a compromise actioned on purpose to prevent the weeping of the fillings in this extreme hot weather from softening the shells too much?
Canele Patisserie at Raffles City Shopping Center was our next stop where we dived straight in for the Salted Caramel Macaron. With fillings as generous as those from Pierre Herme, I was praying for some sort of redemption. Air pockets were predominent, but the shells were a little better than those at Antoinette. Sweating shells? My guess for the criminal is the humid weather; the action of packaging and unpacking for display combined with the drastic change in temperatures in the process could perhaps explain for this phenomenon. That being said, the salted caramel filling was gorgeous, smoky and luscious.
With the rain as a buzz kill, we got our act together and headed down to ION for our final macaron stop. TWG, where we bought the Earl Grey Fortune and Lemon Bush Tea macaron. What I liked about these macarons were its efforts to showcase the flavors of the various teas and that the company strive to venture from the conventional flavors with a range of 8 macarons, each of a distinctively different tea flavor from each other. And despite having a price tag of $2 (the lowest amongst all that we sampled today), these were the biggest on flavor and delivered commendable quality in terms of texture. A crisp and smooth shell yielding into soft moist innards and a flavorsome tea-infused fillings. Best things should be kept for the last.
Obolo
112 East Coast Road
#B1-11/29
Antoinette
30 Penhas Road
Canele Patisserie
Raffles City Shopping Center
#B1-46/47
TWG Tea Salon and Boutique
ION Shopping Mall
2 Orchard Turn, #02 – 21
Uncertainty
And then I question myself, why am I so resistant to change? Firstly, the purpose of it defeats my easy going nature. Secondly, the subject of its manifestation makes me highly uncomfortable given I've have a history of extreme low self esteem. Lastly, it's possible avenue for failure in this avenue just seems so daunting. It's relentless cat and mouse chase prospects discouraging me from having my first dabble. Then again.. it could be a good avenue for a bit of distraction from my other disorders. Golly..
that aside, in the working world, all's fine. Pardon me as I step off a particular cloud named '9' after the high tea episode last weekend. The reservation we accepted very late into the week after a very persistent me barged in on the boss as a reminder for her to confirm the reservation in order to get the production ball on it's way. We were knee deep in preparation work only 2 days into the event, the weight of the weekend crowds bearing down heavy on our shoulders as well. Thank goodness everything went without a hitch. Something I did not expect as it seemed natural for something to go wrong at any point of time in this madhouse. I would like to confess my deep love for my perfect team of colleagues at work for pulling it all together, their professionalism and dedication is thoroughly astounding. Then again, work chemistry is everything and when we're together it's almost like a dream engine running, except that the elements it's exposed to are surely wearing the valve walls down thinly. Jen, you're truly a bitch sometimes. Mind my language, but I'm headed out of there soon anyway. A blessing in disguise I reckon since tolling there has surely taken some years off my life.
Right now, my warm bed beckons for me. I endure a heart wrenching moment, too many memories to swallow. Let's just leave it to rest... with every passing day, it eases away till one day it evolves into a soft tune resounding in the background. I hope...
Choices
In my dilemma, many have told me that if I made the sacrificial move, I would live to regret my choice that I gave up a career prospect that could potentially propel me way ahead of my peers. But deep down aside, I have a residing knowledge that either way,it involves sacrifice. The other fork road would lead to a pathway of lonely living in a foreign country. Something that I see unfathomable at this juncture given my rather blissful living conditions. Picture yesterday for example, I return home from work sick to the bones, after having been throwing up numerous times in the bathroom till my knees went weak. A concerned bf awaited me at the train station, all ready to get my sorry ass back into bed. After stirring from a feverish sleep, the strong streak of vinegar awoken my senses. Vinegar chicken for dinner... a one of a kind electric blanket, personal chef and lover.
On the other hand, lies a job offer and its numerous liberties and learning opportunities. Aside from the lack of guidance, being thrown into the deep end has its pedantic ways. Doing orders, checking stock levels, planning work flows and rosters for the week, working on costings as well as teaching new kitchen staff; all these a belong to a category of tasks that I never expected myself to perform only 5 months into the working world. Not to mention having to deal with the eccentric boss and her sometimes patronizing but 'failure to launch' attitude. Yet here I stand, lucky to be with the kitchen crew, a strong team that I've built up over the weeks. *pats on the back*
Choices choices choices.. if only life was as easy as let's say consuming a stack of Bill's corn fritters. Yeh.. these go down so easy.
A Change of note, these are some things chefs like to do on their RDO. Yeh. more eating.
Corn fritters from Bills. Delish. the sweetness of the corn really shining through in this dish with the fritters assuming the lightness of a tempura style batter.
stuck in reverse
It's deep red jeweled tones enticing me into deep slumber. Work seems to be a consistent battle against my own expectations. My many wishes piling up versus the oddities of my performance. I wish I were faster, I wish I were more organised. I wish I could bring something to the table that no one else at the work place could offer. Yet once and again, I'm beaten down to the ground but my failures to establish my significance. My doings slipping into a mundane drawl of activities.
Upon returning back to an empty house. tiredness lingers in my bones. Yet, I can't sleep. Stuck in reverse.
I confess to my strange habits that reflect a bit of self loathing. Feeding my engines with alcohol, bringing tears to my eyes with the likes of emo films. The notebook, titanic... I suppose it's the hormones kicking in but i'm never too sure.
Whatever it is... I'm back. I wish I had a collection of photos to share. But none.
Don't get me wrong, I've never been happier with the state I'm at, the portion of life that I finally enjoy the most. I just need an avenue for some ranting. Be kind. Look away.
windows of Sydney
Pictures like windows into the streets and hearts of the city. walking around with a film rangefinder. One can't help but feel excited by the notion of perhaps capturing a perfect titillating scene at the turn of a bend or in a split second. This is what I got. Sydney in its reckless moments, in periods of silent stillness, an epitome of jarring split personalities.
Honestly, I miss all that.
pub food impressions revised.
You think you know a scene of an Australian pub on a lazy Tues afternoon when you see one. But be surprised when you step into the ultra cool vicinity of the newly refurbished Carrington. Yeh, so there aren't any hobos (shame on me) in sight nor cheaply dressed staff. Here, you are greeted with smiles and the easy going attitude of the friendly 'bar-maid' who doubles up as a professional member of the wait staff. A room full of ravenous people nursing their bubbly and hoeing down plates of freshly colored goodies. Make a quick trip to the bathroom and chance upon the chefs in the ultra professional kitchens stealing glances at you. From their mosaic tile framed pedestals, this commanded some form of respect from the unsuspecting diners. At this point of time, my ferocious appetite overwhelmed me. Which was a good thing since it made ordering off their lunch menu an extremely pleasant affair for G.
pictured over is the Spicy chicken burger ($15 with a pint of beer/wine). Not the best one I've had yet but I did love the spicy slaw in between.
This though, was an absolute winner. A deduction that was made simply by one look. The Media Noche (Cuban Midnight Sandwich) arrived at the table sans the frills and sauces that came along with the burger. Whispering details of its contents from the melting cheese dribbling off it's toasted sides. Needless to say, we polished this one of it's wooden board, got swept off our feets in the midst by it's complex flavor combination of uber stretchy cheese, triple pork and mustard. By far, the best ham and cheese toasty I've ever had. I wish I didn't have to share, but portions size wise made it berserk to consume in entirety. Pity...
I don't say this often. But you've not seen the last of me yet.
The Carrington
563 Bourke St
Surry Hills 2010
Telephone 02 9360 4714
website: http://www.the-carrington.com.au
