Weekend Project: Footscray

The next-door chapel has a thing for a theme. Every week, the message at the sanctuary would be in accordance with a theme regardless of the speaker background and inspiration. And this year the theme happens to be ‘Homeland’.

Home is a simple word that we all learn in preschool. But it is such a hard word to define. It may be a place, a person, a feeling or even an idea.

Being the nomad that I am. Home is usually a person to me. But if I have to find a place which somewhat resembles home in Melbourne, it would have to be Footscray.

Footscray does not exactly look like home. Neither is it filled with people from home. But when you are at Footscray, there is this sense of how all time has stopped and that you are back to your 5-year-old self on a Saturday morning.

Your parents are not at work and the entire family is out on an adventure to the neighbourhood market. You sit and have some breakfast, which is usually an array of dishes from a range of foodstalls.

As you dig chopsticks and spoons into communal dishes, there is always someone bustling about. And yet you know that no danger lurkes. When you are done with breakfast, you wonder into the wet market: marveling and observing.

It doesn’t matter where your parents are. And you are never concern if you had lost your way because in a very special sense, you are in your element. So you sit for hours at a small obscure corner with your eye on the fishball maker on his wobbly wooden stool. Pinching fully rounded balls of mince fish meat out from a highly unattractive pool of gooey lump.

Or you can watch the women with their arms weighed down by the many colourful bags they carry, prodding the skin of fishes and examining their gills and eyes. And the uncle behind the booth is always bathing in a fountain of flying scales as he run that magical device over a chosen salmon or promfret.

Although Footscray does not have a huge wet market with such sights… it triggers those fond memories. I cannot help but smile to myself as I walk among the throngs of shoppers, feeling quite present in the moment but lost in the vast idea of time.

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines

I love P.Neruda. I spend the afternoon reading Merton today and I had picked out some excerpts that I would have liked to put it in this space. Or I could have wrote about my tiny little weekend adventure. But, since this is my blog and I can choose to write whatever I want: I am choosing to leave you with this.

Neruda always brings a fresh perspective into the things he writes about. He write about things from socks to wine. ! But the best bit about his poetry (to me) is that it is never about the subject. He always manages to personify his feelings so exactly and paint such a clear image that you would think that you can make a model of his emotions given enough plasticine. Or something.

Feast your eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered

and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.

My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.

Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer

and these the last verses that I write for her.

Hot Flushes. GOSH its' menopause.

Feeling particularly snarky today I decided to make a list. It is not a surprise that most lists are boring but hey, anything organised generally is so don't be judgemental with this particular one.

But then again this list cannot be boring for the fact that it describes 5 scenarios which I find particularly irritating. And I am sure that my thoughts are so commonplace that most can find themselves identifying with at least one of them. So feast your eyes. I am not responsible for any stones that might be thrown in anger

1. The word ‘pop’. Particularly when used in cosmetic videos/advertisements/compliments.

Honestly. Who are you trying to bluff here. Your eyes are still flat on your face. Doesn’t matter how much eye shadow you put on. The angles and shape of your eyes remains, surprise surprise, the same. Go have a look at the dictionary. Saying pop has to imply that your eyes either exploded, or protruded or is pushed/thrust/put out suddenly. So please. Go pop a balloon, pop a bottle of beer. Pop in a CD. Pop a cherry even, but leave your eyes alone.

2. Saying LOL in a real life conversation.

LOL was invented because it simplified the chatting world. It is hard to express laughter in the virtual world with 3 or less alphabets. Hence LOL was invented and developed. Laughing in real life is actually simpler and easier and not to mention better for you then saying LOL since there is those awesome chemicals that are produced. So please, don’t use ‘lol’ verbally in real life. Not cool to say ‘lawl’. Doesn’t matter where and how. Unless of course you are saying it as a quote to illustrate how some people use it, then that is fine I guess.

3. Answering a question with another question.

Ever had that scenario where you arrive with friends to a certain destination and someone ask, ‘Where are we going?’ and the other person reply ‘Where would you like to go?’ This is a classic example of answering a question with another. And it drives me nuts. Why on earth do people do that? If you don’t know where you are going, say DON’T KNOW. It is not that hard. Don’t act like a smart-ass by answering a question with another question. Not attractive at all. Answer the existing question if you have to speak if not silence is equally appealing.

4. Asking a question and not waiting for an answer.

This is called a monologue. But of course you don’t need me to tell you that. It is relatively ok if it is someone stressed talking to themselves. But it is not cool when you are in a position of authority, standing at the front of a swanky meeting room, heading an all-important meeting that you called. I have witness so many of this coat wearing, big headed, self absorbed beings standing at the front of a room, asking their employees questions to clarify matters and avert the answer by either answering it themselves or directing it to someone who does not know the answer and hence won’t reply. Honestly. What are you doing? Engaging yourself in a power struggle? How interesting… If you need someone to tell you how powerful you are, go home to your loved one. Or go parent a child… They will gladly express how grateful they are to you. Don’t take it out on your employees.

5. People who call you and then ask you who you are.

This often happens when you are picking up a phone on behalf of the actual owner of the phone line. Say your friend is busy with poopy diapers. Or your grandmother is taking a nap, or your father is driving the car. You kindly pick up the phone on their behalf and say ‘hello’ only to be verbally assaulted by the voice on the other line, which almost always aggressively go ‘who are you?’ So. Which dumbo calls another and ask ‘who are you’ upon getting a ‘hello’. It is a universal rule that the person who initiates the call introduces himself or herself. Why do such people even exists?

I tell your mother then you know.

So.

May marks the 4^th month of the job. I have officially lost my mind. And if this whole thing is an infant, this is the point where I stuff a cork up the arse so that I never have to clean up the odd textured non-Newtonian liquid oozing from the top of the diaper.

Yes I will be a good mother that way.

College living has officially sterilized me. Hear that Mr S.O? You get your wish. I have no more desire for 4 kids and you can now cancel that secret snip snip that you wanted to do on the sly.

I have not said anything about Mr. SO for the longest time. And there are people out there getting worried. You come up to me asking how on earth is he doing when here I am right in front of you in pieces and you don’t give a damn? Fine.

Well, I barely speak to him anymore with this alternate life that I am living as a responsible adult with absolutely no appetite for alcohol, dangerous/risky behavior. He is still Mr. SO but it is just that maybe it is time we ‘reconnect’ on facebook. But hey, that is alright with me cause some idiot once said that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Anyway. If you are after some Mr SO info, he is feeling mighty proud for he just received his brand-new spanking scratch-free 15” Macbook. And being the nerd that he was, he baptized it with his simulation software. Even before a Skype session with his girlfriend who he has not seen in ages.

I know public domestic quarrels are not attractive. And I would never ever want to put all you readers in this awk-ward position. But I have to let him know that 15” is not all that great cause you have yet to see the 27” beast.

Once you go big, you just can’t do small anymore.

That’s right.

Go interpret that sick phrase anyway you like.

My Altered Ego on Tiramisu

Most people know that I love to eat. But what people don't know is that I really love food. I am not exactly good with cooking, but when given the time I love to explore recipes, tweaking it till I get the right texture and taste. I even have a separate blog where I jot down cooking notes!

Sometimes in my play cooking session, I deviate further from what is authentic to make the dish more appealing to my Singaporean taste buds. But isn't cooking aimed at pleasing your own taste buds anyway?

One dish that I (think) I have perfected is the Tiramisu. Most tiramisu these days omit the mascarpone and use custard as substitute for traditional zabaglione in an effort to make the layered cake simpler without taking away the layers. But trust me, once you tried this recipe, you would never go back to the tiramisu from the cold section of any supermarket.

I like my tiramisu alcoholic. But then again, I like most things alcoholic so that statement is kind of redundant. I also like my tiramisu firm. In my mind, layered cakes should stand tall and proud as a single slice on a plate. I frown upon serving tiramisu in cups for it just highlights the fact that the whole cake is weak, soggy and lacks structure.

So try this recipe. I guarantee that if you do this right, you will be in for a great reward. I'll try to get a picture for you this weekend if I can get supporters for eating it. No guarantees.

Enjoy~

Tiramisu Ingredients List (for a cake measuring 6" x 8")

5 large eggs yolks

½ cup + 4 tbsp Caster Sugar

250g Mascarpone Cheese

300ml Cream

6 tbsp Coffee

12 tbsp Kahlua (or other liqueur that you like)

1 packet Savoiardi Sponge Finger Biscuits

Drinking chocolate for dusting

Large Lasagne Dish or any other oblong dish

Zabaglione

Whisk egg yolks and ½ cup caster sugar till pale and thick.

In a double boiler, continue whisking while adding 4 tbsp of kahlua.

Whisk continuously till it takes on the texture of custard taking care to avoid burning the zabaglione at the bottom of the pot (7-8 minutes).

Put pot into cold water to stop the heat, continue whisking for 1-2 mins to dissipate residual heat. Avoid overwhisking.

Tiramisu Cream

Whip the cream till just past the soft peak stage in a clean bowl.

Stir the mascarpone till it takes on a lighter creamy texture, Avoid whipping mascarpone.

Fold in the whipped cream in 2 stages till completely folded.

Fold in the zabaglione slowly.

Dipping Mixture

Dissolve 6 tbsp of black coffee* and 4 tbsp of caster sugar in 1 cup of hot water. Ensure that all the sugar is completely dissolved.

Add 1/2 cup of ice-cold water to coffee. Mix well then follow with 8 tbsp of Kahlau.**

Top up to 2 cup of liquid volume.

Put the coffee into a container that will fit your sponge fingers for easy dipping.

Putting it Together

Dip the sponge fingers into the coffee for about 10 secs each on both sides and lay them in a flat layer on the bottom of a dish. If there a spaces that are unfilled, cut sponge fingers to fit. Check that all the sponge fingers are adequately soft by prodding with your finger, and add coffee to them with a spoon if they are not. If excess pools, drain liquid.

Layer 1/2 the tiramisu cream on top. Aim for a layer that is 2/3 of the sponge finger height.

Repeat with another layer of the sponge fingers, and top with the remaining cream.

Bang the tiramisu tray down on the tabletop by dropping the tray from a height (10 cm) after everything is assembled. It is tempting to level during each layer but you want to avoid pulverising the spongefingers without the cushion of cream. This step also ensures that the cream fills the empty corners and allows the bubbles to rise to the top.

Refrigerate overnight (or at least 6 hours depending on the size of the tiramisu).

Dust drinking chocolate/cocoa powder over the top of the tiramisu just before serving.

Note: The tiramisu will taste the best the day after making.

Try to do the zabaglione in a metal bowl for better heat control

Always prepare the mascarpone for folding by mixing and introducing some air with a spatula. Skipping that would give you a hard time with the folding since it is heavy when set.

Buy the best mascarpone one can afford. No point wasting calories on bad food.

*Alternative to coffee powder is 6 shots from a good coffee place and work with the volume in recipe

**Omit for child-safe recipe

Dusting of cake should be done before serving. Doing it way before causes the dusting to be clumpy upon storage.

Weekend Project: Elegance Served

Time is sacred these days.

I feel that I can identify with what Tina Fey said in the movie "Datenight". She said something along the lines of how she sometimes fantasise about being alone in a hotel room somewhere, with a book in one hand and a bottle of sprite in the other.

I fantasise about being alone. Doesn't matter where and with what. Just alone. Without any expectations. Questions. Provocation. Silly pressing issues. Just me, myself and I. Somewhere. Alone.

So today after a highly over-rated experience at Red Emperor with some friends, I took the highroad and went to stroll about the Southbank Farmers Market. A delightful little place where there are tons of little stores. Correction: over-priced little stores. Selling prints and other crafts and such.

Imagine my delight when I found a serving platter in a rejects basket. AUS$10 and in my favourite colour: red. Lined with 24-caret gold. For my keys and such.

Joy in the littlest things.

The reason why I might give immediate business to eye specialist soon...

They term this personality trait : forward-looking

Uhm. Houston. We have a problem.

For the past week, the kichenette area has been under attack by a siege of ants. And that makes me an ant killer/expert. Here is what you should/should not do when you find yourself in my position.

Lesson 1:

Use a spray. And it should come with a scent. The spray makes it easy to reach a wide area and allow you to come into contact with ants only after they are dead. I don’t like bug spray because it is really harmful and this is my kitchen we are talking about. Thankfully I love the smell of ammonia in window cleaners so that is my preferred way of ant homicide.

The scent is really important since it help to erase the trail set by the previous army of ants. This leaves the next batch of ants a little confused for a few hours.

Lesson 2:

Mouthwash can deter ants from a certain place. Ants are like vampires. We use nonsensical stuff such as silver bullets and garlic against vampire and ghosts. The equivalent for ants do exist. Mint. Cayenne Pepper. Tabasco sauce and black pepper is the same. I happen to not have any of those on hand at this point in time but I discovered that minty mouthwash is good as well. And I use it to prevent the ants from crawling down the side of the cupboards and onto the floor.

Lesson 3:

Don’t bother with baits unless you know the colony is indoors. Baits are meant to kill the entire ant colony and doing that to an outdoor colony is just wrong. Deter them from entering your home by caulking and grouting any available entrances through which they may enter. Then you may kill the ones stuck in your home with a spray. If the entrance cannot be grouted, sealed, caulked, puttied, feel free to use any of the scent methods in lesson 2.

Lesson 4:

If all else fails, call pest control.

p/s: I do not detest ants as long as they are not the biting variety. I am generally not an ant killer. I know people who pour bleach down ant-hills just because they can and I am not that type of person. I don’t hate ants, but I prefer to think that I can co-exist with them being outdoors and me being indoors.

New Appreciation

You know what you like, don’t you? You know that you like a certain colour and a certain way of doing things. You know you like a certain person.

At the same time you know what you do not like. You know why a certain person irks you so and why there is no way you would do a certain thing, perhaps at a certain time.

And I am one of those people. I thought I knew. But the truth is I keep asking myself all the time, why is it that I like Murakami. And what of his writing keeps me going on.

It is undeniable that I enjoy his works. But I have found it so hard to put into words, why is it that I enjoy Murakami, more than say Charlotte Bronte.

Not till today did it dawned on me that I thrive in the world that he created. One that is free of spiritual commitment and opinion. Devoid of all expectations and subtle nuances of what things should be and could be. The world he created is bizarre, I grant you that. But there is never a hint of the oddness, unless it is intended.

And I love that the word ‘impossible’ is irrelevant when reading M.