Saturday 28 April 2018

Dream: lost in Japan

(Many of my dreams seem to be set in Japan... I'm not really sure why!)
This was a very perplexing dream that I had on the first night back in Sydney.

It starts off with me in a taxi. It's hard to tell where you are - most taxis around the world look the same. I'm sitting in the backseat and I cannot see the driver's face. I look back through the window and see P trying to catch up with the taxi, running as fast as he can and pausing to catch his breath sometimes. I tell the driver to slow down and he intermittently slows enough for P to catch up, close enough that I can see his face. But then we turn the corner and we go too fast, turn another corner and he is gone. I tell the driver to slow down again, but we have properly lost him.

Then, P is driving my Mazda and I am running behind him. There is a rope which is attached to the car, which is one of those soft expandable ropes. I pull myself up as I run, getting closer to the car sometimes and further at other times when it strains my hands terribly to hold onto the rope. I try to run faster so that I can get closer to the car, but it is harder and harder to catch up. The rope burns and my hands sting sharply with the abrasive pain. With an acceleration, the rope is pulled out from my hands and I am lost.

Then, I am in a large intersection, like the ones in Japan where there are 5 or 6 roads converging in the one place. I am convinced that the place is actually in Japan, though there are no obvious visual cues. I look around and there are hundreds of people in the intersection. My eyes scan the crowd, though it's not clear what I'm looking for.

I see a tall man who looks like P and when I look closer.. it is not him, but a much rounder larger man. Some time later I see another tall man who looks like P from the back, but when he turns around.. it is not him, but a similar guy with a big full beard (something that he never has!). Then after some time, I see another man who looks like him. I run across the road and it really is him. We start talking and after some time I reach out to touch his face, and it is absolutely stone cold and covered in sweat. I start to think about whether he could be sick - how could his face be so cold?

I don't really remember what we are discussing now, but it is all about the relationship. At some point I say to him emphatically I just don't know how you could lose faith in us. My voice is raised and he looks at me pointedly. Then he says keep it down, we are in a train station. And I wake up. 

Saturday 7 April 2018

In My Kitchen: April 2018

In my kitchen, this month even more than usual, it's all about my beloved Barney. When people at work hear about Barney, they usually think it's my child.. and when they realise it's not, they think it's my pet dog or rabbit... and when they realise it's not, they are usually very confused. Needless to say, all my friends and colleagues know who Barney is now! My beloved sourdough starter, born 11 June 2017 on my benchtop in Rapid Creek .

He makes quite a handsome loaf now, coming a long way since his early days. Flavour wise, he has improved immensely since the fridge died while I was away. He ate himself and I think all the non-strong yeast cultures must have died.



Barney was truly delicious with a cheese fondue.




I made these Barney cheesymite scrolls before we went to Timor Leste - it was hard to resist eating the whole pan fresh out of the oven.



It was also my first time making hot cross buns, which of course had to be B buns.



We did some non traditional things with Barney, like barmplings - surprisingly good! The skins were chewy but light. 



My farewell party also featured Barney in the form of woodfire pizza - 150g of Barney made 4kg of dough!






Getting the heat just right was hard with all the wood off to one side of the oven, but everyone loved Barney anyway.

We also enjoyed this amazing bountiful produce from my dad's garden in Sydney when I went back briefly - so many bitter melons, tomatoes and random leaves.


And finally, a strange stringy vegetable I saw at Rapid Creek markets, which was delicious in soup. 



 This is my first time contributing to In my kitchen hosted by Sherry's Pickings