A recent jumble of dreams

The one where Taiwan transforms into Singapore

In this dream Em and I are on a transit stopover in Taiwan. I didn’t specifically feel like it was Taipei in the dream though, as nothing looked familiar.

We had a 6 hour stopover and she said she wanted to go into town to look for sex. Strange request given how we usually take musical holidays, but we got onto the MRT to go into town. The MRT also did not look like the real Taiwanese MRT, it was darker and older somehow.

Arriving at a station we do not recognise, we get out of the MRT straight into the basement of a big shopping mall. We are on “Level 1” and it consists of many small shops. Very soon we lose sight of each other and I am on my own.

I try to find my way back to the MRT station, as perhaps this is somewhere she would also go to meet me. No matter how many times I circuit around, nothing looks familiar and no-one knows where the MRT station is.

Then I realise there is a roadblock, and some part of the building must be cordoned off. I look at the directory of the mall adjacent to an elevator, and discover that both L1 and L6 have access to the MRT.

That does not make any sense… how can an underground train have a station on level 6? I think to myself in the dream, but take the elevator up to 6 anyway.

I follow the signs to the MRT and there is a big fruit market right next to the entrance to the station.

This is definitely not the stop where we got off. I think to myself.

I line up for a ticket to the airport, and the lady does not speak Chinese to me. I’m not sure what language it is, but it doesn’t sound like anything I have heard before. I pass her a $100 note (which is red, incidentally the same as in mainland China) and she shakes her head no. I guess she doesn’t have change and pass her a $20 note (which is green, but in mainland China it is brown). She gives me a plastic token, like those ones used in casinos.

I enter the MRT station and get onto the subway. Though we are on the 6^th floor, it feels like we are underground. Once on the subway, I see an advertisement for Changi airport. And that’s when I realised that we are actually in Singapore.

I think to myself, if I just go to the Uniqlo at Changi, surely Em will find me there. Then I wake up.

The one where I choose a top

(This dream took place because I was staying at a palatial penthouse… I think it is relating to choices in life)

I am in a department store. Quite an upmarket one, with the right level of mood lighting and brightly marbled floors. Everything looks shiny and polished. In short, totally where I would not go in real life.

I have a personal shopper, a petite lady whose job is to help me dress. I am hidden behind a curtain in the changeroom, whilst she talks to a shop assistant just outside the curtain. I am wearing my own clothes and I contemplate myself in the mirror – a grey T-shirt and jeans, exactly what I would usually wear, day in and day out.

She opens the curtain gently and shows me the options on a golden coloured rack. There are three tops.

The first is a simple top in hot pink with a boat neck, which has quite a loose fit that looks like it would drape nicely. I think this represents the extroverted outgoing side of my personality.

The second is an elegant formal style top in off-white (almost a cream). Quite well fitted, it has broad straps forming some sort of complex neckline. It looks like something to go with a full puffy skirt and heels. I think this represents the graceful and beautiful side of myself. 

The third is a frilly black top which looks mysterious and sexy. The neckline is also rather complex with lace, and the arms are all lace. It looks like something from a Victoria’s secret catalogue. I think this represents the unexplored territories of my existence. 

The shop assistant asks me which one I would like. I am not sure what my choice is before I wake up. 

The toilet to another world dream

(This dream I had right after the fun Gold Coast music weekend… perhaps some sort of liberation?)

I am stuck in a long and complex immigration queue. It is long enough that I cannot really see the faces of those who are at the counters. There are dozens of counters but hundreds of people, so the line is moving very slowly.

People keep cutting from one queue to another, but no one seems to be complaining about those not following the rules.

I get rather annoyed that the progress is so slow because every time someone is processed from my queue, some others join from other queues.

Suddenly one window is open, the immigration officer in there departed. A throng of people push through the narrow passageway, and I rush to join them. Suddenly, we are all on the other side where it is very spacious and uncrowded.

I look around to see if there are any clues as to where I am. The wall tiles are quite a dark shade of orange with a glossy sheen to them. I cannot find the exit or the baggage carousel. Maybe I am just in transit? I think to myself in the dream.

I see a huge poster advertising “Buy One Get One Free Burger!” probably the largest ad I’ve ever seen for a burger. Then I have an inkling that it is actually Ramadan and so I must be in a Muslim country.

I feel the need to find a toilet, and when I get there it is absolutely huge, perhaps the size of my apartment. There is a cloth cover over the toilet seat, and when I sit down I realise that there is no way for me not to soil the cover.

After I sit down, I realise that the bathroom is surrounded by flyscreens which are half exposed and I can see people walking around outside. I am a bit horrified that people can see in as well, so I quickly finish and stand up.

Not knowing what to do with the toilet seat cover, I take it off and bundle it up, looking for a bin to throw it into. 

That is when I realise that the bathroom actually has another section around the corner. Does it lead to another world? I wake up.

In My Kitchen: September 2019

It's been a bit of a slow month cooking wise, as I was in China visiting my dad and grandma. It was just the height of summer there, and I enjoyed the warm weather break from our winter.

The quintessential Shanghainese breakfast is a quartet of foods (also nicknamed the 4 transformer gods 四大金刚)

1. Deep fried dough stick  油条  - light as air dough sticks, flash deep fried in giant vats of oil for less than a minute. Fried to order, they must be eaten hot or they turn gluggy and soft

2. Doughy cake 大饼 - these can be sweet (filled with sugar and covered in sesame) or savoury (filled with shallots). They are extremely flaky with a crunchy exterior and soft inside, the best ones have big air pockets

3. Deep fried rice cake  糍饭糕 - square blocks of sticky rice deep fried to a shattering crunch

4. Soy milk curds 豆腐花 - tofu in its elementary phase, hardly set and usually served savoury style with dried shrimp, seaweed and soy sauce / sesame oil.

3 + 4 

 2 + 1 + 4

4 + a different type of pancake with a soft large pancake stuffed full of dough stick, shallots and peanut sauce

I love having wontons for breakfast too! 

My dad's friends came over for lunch and brought some hardcore Chinese style liquor. The one on the left is rice wine 52% alcohol and the one on the right barley liquor 53% alcohol! Needless to say a few nips of these left everyone highly cheerful. 

Our garden in Shanghai has limited space but even then my dad has started a baby bok choy patch.

These baby bok choy are so skinny and delicate, more like a micro-green. Here they are cooked in a fragrant soup with fresh edamame and tomato. 

Just a few loaves of bread this month, 

A plain loaf I shared with work friends

And a beautiful black olive loaf I took to Melbourne to visit my friend. What a wonderful weekend I had learning to cook Sri Lankan food from my friend's family! 

Barney my beloved sourdough starter is also in his 3rd Chinese rendition. We have taken to use sourdough for our Chinese steamed buns as well as Western bread. These twisted buns are actually quite easy to make. Once the starter is bubbly he is mixed with plain flour and water to become a smooth dough ball, then left to rise till doubled. Turned out onto a surface the dough is rolled out to a large rectangle, brushed oil and scattered with salt & Sichuan pepper. The rectangle is rolled up and cut into rounds (this is really like a Western recipe for cheesymite scrolls). Stacking two rounds on top of each other, use a chopstick to make an indent down the middle, turning it in towards itself. What delicate beauties!

On the music front, there's very little to report as both my string & piano quartets have been taking a break with travels. I've also had a lot of problems with my hands recently and hence the break is very much well timed.  

But, I ate an artichoke for the first time! 

My piano duet buddy invited me to share in these artichokes with her and her daughter - they were simply boiled and served with a dollop of homemade mayonnaise (with lots of mustard) - I had absolutely no idea how delicious fresh artichokes were!  We ate these with a selection of easy piano duets by Leroy Anderson, a Mozart sonata for four hands and an adaptation of Schubert's 3rd symphony. How I adore piano four hand music, a much under loved genre. 

Finishing with some of my dad's cherry blossoms and the last of his pumpkins. I'm sending this to Sherry of Sherry's Pickings for the In My Kitchen series - thanks for hosting Sherry!

Dream: A forest trail to the tarmac

This is an extremely hyper vivid dream featuring my friend B.

The dream starts in a dense forest. It’s hard to tell where we are exactly, and perhaps in the dream I am very aware of the difference between types of forests in the world. We are not in Australian forest, for there are no gum trees and no characteristic eucalyptus scent. We are not in tropical Asian rainforest, there’s none of that sticky sickly sweet smell. The air is cool and not warm or humid… so we must be in Europe??

We are climbing slowly, picking our way up a gentle incline. The path is ragged, the soil packed into shape by footsteps only and at many points we almost lose our way. We ascend into a darker section of the forest and there is no one around at all. It is completely still and we cannot hear any birds or animals, not even the rustling of wind.

Suddenly we come to a concrete set of steps. Standing where we are, the trail we had been following seems to go off to the left, around a few rocks and then disappear from view into the undergrowth. The steps we see are completely straight and very well formed, ascending into the distance beyond where our eyes can stretch. We inspect the steps closely as they look so out of touch with the reality of where we are, deep in the dark forest. The concrete is poured such that each perfectly formed step is connected to the next with the vertical aspect between two steps also filled in. It is as if someone has laid down a long concrete ribbon and pressed it into the earth to form a staircase.

We stand at this crossroads, wondering if we should take the formed path (is it a shortcut of some sort?) or continue on the raggedy little trail. We don’t discuss it very much and B starts off on the trail on the left.

The scene cuts abruptly to a small airport. I intuitively know that B is in jail and I am there to get her out of jail. I pause to take in my surroundings, standing at the entrance to the airport. The large room has just one single unlabelled gate, with a cluster of seats surrounding the sliding door which goes straight out to the tarmac. On the tarmac is a group of people, perhaps 30 or so, standing within a roped off section. They are calling out and waving their arms, but we cannot hear them from inside the terminal. There are a handful of security guards around, and a few visitors.

The only sound we hear is that of fighter jets. Impossibly small planes (I guess all fighter jets are kind of small) zoom very close to the airport but none of them are near the runway or the people. The noise is quite loud and they disappear from view so quickly that I wonder if they are flying faster than the sound of speed.

The security guards escort the visitors towards the gate and one man unceremoniously presses a button to open the glass sliding doors. The group outside on the tarmac are not able to rush forward, though they move excitedly, bristling at the edges. Stepping out onto the tarmac, the noise of the jets becomes unbearable and I quickly scan the group to find B. She is wearing an oversized white T shirt and a dark blue beanie, looking impossibly small as if she somehow had become a child.

I rush towards her and she is crying.  

Let’s get out of here now, I say. Somehow the rope gives way easily and she is outside the group. We start to run towards the gate going into the terminal and just as we are almost there, she says Wait, I must say goodbye to my inside family.

The fighter jets are still zooming around as we run back to the roped off group and approach a few men. At that moment one of the guards approaches us and I freeze with fear. Cold runs through my veins and I am afraid we will both be put into the roped off group. She hugs one of the men while another man looks on with a blank expression. The guard ignores both of us and turns around to a third man.

Come on guys, you gotta get some while you can. He says and my feet feel glued to the ground while I am tugging frantically on B’s sleeve to get going.

Then I turn around and see what the “get some while you can” was referring to. He is holding an impossibly huge box of Ferrero Rochers, the box being so comically large that it obscures his entire body. There are a few chocolates missing and a few more upturned. We all stand there gaping at this impossible sight, and then I wake up.

Cooking with Amma (2)

The ultimate rice & curry feast

This was an absolutely incredible meal. It looks like a lot of work but with a few helpers for prep, really quite easy and straight forward.  

The helpful prep - 

Chop a huge pile of onions finely as they will be used in many things

Gather fresh curry & pandan leaves

Chop garlic, ginger and pound till a paste forms 

WADE

Soak some lentils (either red lentils or yellow split peas)

Using a grinder, process the lentils to a very coarse paste along with

-        Chopped red onions

-        Chilli flakes (green chillies add extra texture and spice)

-        Maldive fish flakes (or dried shrimp also works)

-        Curry leaves

Season to taste  

Shape into balls with a spoon and fry at low heat with a neutral oil (we used rice bran) 

POTATOES

Boil the potatoes till 80% cooked, basically done – drain all the water

Fry curry leaves till fragrant, then add potatoes and stir to coat

Add 

Salt

Chilli flakes 

Maldive fish powder (ground Maldive fish flakes)

Toss to coat and warm through

Add a small amount of finely chopped onion and cook with lid on for a few minutes 

BEANS in claypot

(We made these with snake beans, but I guess any similar vegetable could be cooked this way)

Chop the beans into small bite sized pieces and place inside the empty claypot

Toss together with

-        Curry powder

-        Turmeric

-        Salt

-        Chilli powder

-        Coconut powder (in lieu of coconut cream)

Once well coated, add water and bring to a boil. Add some pandan / curry leaves if using

Simmer gently till all the coconut clumps have dissolved and the sauce is slightly thickened

DAL

Soak red lentils for an hour or so, and wash thoroughly (eg. 3 times)

Add to the claypot along with onion, garlic & curry leaves

Season with

-        Curry powder

-        Chilli

-        Turmeric

Add enough water for approx 2x the volume of lentils

Bring to boil and simmer till a thick gloopy delicious mess forms  

CHICKEN CURRY

Fry in a generous amount of oil the 3 Cs (cardamom, clove & cinnamon)  till fragrant

Add the ingredients to form the base of the curry

-        Onions

-        Pounded garlic & ginger paste

-        Curry leaves shredded

Add chicken pieces (thigh is best, or any type except breast will do)

Add a generous spoon of curry powder and some natural yoghurt

(Don’t add any water as water may escape from the chicken)

Once coated and cooked, add some fine chilli powder and tamarind

Cook for 10 - 15 min till the sauce is thickened, stirring occasionally

(Optional: can marinate the chicken in yoghurt & spices)

RICE

The centrepiece of this whole feast!

Wash basmati rice and drain well

Use the same flavour profile of the chicken curry – cook in oil onions and the 3Cs (cinnamon & clove & cardamom)

Add rice and toss to coat all the grains with the delicious aromatic oil

Prepare some cold water in which you dissolve some turmeric to make the ideal amount of yellow

Take the rice from the stove and tip into the rice cooker along with the turmeric water

While the rice is cooking in the rice cooker, fry some cashews

Once cooked tip the rice onto a generous platter and scatter with cashews & raisins 

(Words cannot describe how fragrant and delicious this dish is)

Cheat’s version – fry in oil the leftover gravy from the chicken curry with raw rice and proceed with the rest of the steps

ALL TOGETHER...

We also had freshly fried pappadums 

And this refreshing salad of finely chopped carrot (could be grated) and parsley with a generous squeeze of lemon. 

The feast altogether looked like this

My plate... I mean my first plate before I went back for more! 

Finally a little sweet watalappan (spiced coconut custard pudding)... will have to learn how to make this next time!

Cooking with Amma (1)

I went to Melbourne this weekend to catch up with friends and was generously hosted by my wonderful friend Papaya and her family. They are a real interesting and eclectic lot, having lived in Japan (her oldest sister could only speak Japanese when they left!), the US, Samoa and New Zealand before finally settling in Australia.

In my own words I shamelessly invited myself to their place to stuff myself with Lankan home cooking, but I really didn't anticipate how much I would learn about how to cook these dishes! A few simple ingredients put together well can be incredibly tasty. Amma uses no measurements and everything is done to taste (you like this a little more? add more!) I took a few notes on scrap paper and really want to capture how to make this delicious food.

HOPPERS

Hoppers are way easier to make than I imagined. The essential piece of equipment is the hopper pan, a deep concave pan with two handles for optimal swirling

The batter is made of

Rice flour

Coconut cream

(Water if too thick)

Yeast and a little sugar

Mix till it is a thick batter. Leave to ferment till loose and puffy (5hrs or overnight is good)

At the end add some salt, as the fermentation will be affected if salt is added too early

Once it is a thick liquid (a little thinner than pancake batter) with many bubbles, it is ready to be used.

Grease the hopper pan with a little paper towel dipped in butter or excess

Add a generous blob to the bottom of the pan and swirl to coat the sides

(The right amount of batter to add leaves a small residual amount to bubble up at the bottom )

Add the lid and wait patiently. Once it becomes crispy & golden around the edges, it will lift away easily

Serve warm with sambal or any other curries 

Tips from Amma:

Freshly ground rice is delicious, especially red rice but any rice flour can be used

Wait for the batter to be ready… it will depend on the activity of the yeast but don’t start before it is bubbly

Excess batter can be stored in the fridge for instant hopper making

If using a non stick hopper pan cool the pan down by taking it off the stove or dip it in cold water, as the dough will not stick to the sides if it is too hot

If making an egg hopper crack an egg in the pan as soon as the swirling action is done

Amma gave me a hopper pan to take home (talk about the Sri Lankan hospitality!).. I really can’t wait to try this with sourdough!

SAMBAL

This is one of the most popular Lankan side dishes that is absolutely refreshing, uplifting and delicious.

Add to a mortar & pestle

-        Very finely chopped red onion (or any onion)

-        Chilli flakes

-        Maldive fish flakes (apparently a Lankan staple)

-        Freshly grated coconut for coconut sambal (can be bought frozen and defrosted before use)

Pound until a coarse paste forms

Remove from the mortar & pestle. Add salt & lemon juice to taste.

(Apparently this can also be done in a food processor but the pounding action really integrates the flavours well)

STRING HOPPERS

These were quite easy to make too… but sadly I don't think I will ever have the right string hopper paraphernalia 

Mix “string hopper flour” with water until a firm dough forms

(You want the dough to be firm but not too firm or it will be too hard to press through)

Take the hopper maker (looks like a giant garlic press) and load some dough into it

Press the trigger (extremely stress relieving) and do two big circles of the noodles covering the steamer

Steam for 3 minutes or so till cooked and easily dislodged from the steamer

KIRI HODI

This is a very simple yellow coconut cream gravy that goes with string hoppers

Heat coconut cream in a small pot along with pandan leaves, turmeric and ground fenugreek

MILK RICE

Cook rice and coconut cream together till well cooked and bordering on mushy

Tip out into a roasting dish and use the rice scraper to smooth the top pressing the rice down

Leave to cool for a few minutes then slice into squares

You can top each square with a raisin or eat it as is with sambal & curry 

In my kitchen: August 2019

In the depths of winter, it is almost impossible to recall the lightheartedness of summer. Once in a while, there will be a day where the lunchtime sun is warm enough to soothe our weary souls. On other days there are heartwarming foods…

It is just perfect weather now for soup. This one I made with silverbeet stalks, chickpeas and lovely tightly curled pasta from a market in Budapest. With a generous base of paprika and chilli, this was so rich and warming topped with some cheese. The rustic handpainted bowl is from a roadside stall in Romania.

 This sourdough scroll worked out so well for a lazy afternoon tea. I stuffed it with fig jam and butter cookie crumbs. Pulling apart those warm buttery strands was heavenly...  the 3 of us demolished the whole thing. 

I tried Not QuiteNigella’s Biang Biang noodle recipe – they worked out a treat! I didn’t eat them with the recipe sauce, instead opting for a light smattering of vegetables and a spoonful of chilli oil. The next day I ate them in soup, also delicious!

Nothing like hot steaming dumplings in winter! I love how the dough relaxes and becomes supple during resting, and become so much easier to roll after an hour or so. These were stuffed with pork, chinese cabbage, green capsicum and flavoured with ginger and coriander. Another time I also made some with kim chi, my favourite filling. 

I'm also in love with sprinkles I bought from Japan, here served simply on top of cold tofu. 

Onto my Food and Music series...

I made these sourdough fruit buns for the Merewether ensemble. They are basically the hot cross bun recipe without the crosses. I ran out of time to glaze them so the crust set a bit hard, but they still served up nicely with a bit of butter.  We played Mozart’s Clarinet quintet in A major, a few Handel arrangements for wind & strings and also Mozart’s Kegelstatt trio. 

 

My string quartet had a French themed dinner where we ate the most delicious boeuf bourgignon, fluffy Parisian mashed potatoes and veggies along with Barney sourdough baguettes. 

There was also an incredible cherry clafoutis which served as my impromptu birthday cake. We enjoyed this absolute feast along with some French favourites, the Faure piano quartet in C minor and the rich and wonderful Debussy string quartet Op. 11.

Last week it was my turn to make dinner for the quartet and we decided on pasta. Of course it was impossible to incorporate sourdough into pasta, so I made fresh egg pasta. I had no idea fresh pasta was so “easy” to make! It certainly is simple in recipe, I used the 100g flour to 1 egg ratio. There were a few blunders, like when the egg refused to stay inside the flour well and threatened to escape to the floor. 

Then we covered the cellist’s entire kitchen with flour whilst rolling out the pasta, heaps of fun! 

The strands that got stuck to each other got accidentally rerolled into Australia. We are a patriotic quartet.

These turned out so well, springy with just the right amount of bite. We ate this with a simple mushroom lentil tomato & red wine based sauce. On this night we played all our favourites, because sadly we won’t be meeting for the next few weeks while a few of us are busy with travels. There was Dvorak’s American quartet, Schubert’s Death and the Maiden and finally our favourite Beethoven, Op 18 no. 4 in C minor. I adore C minor! For dessert we played a little of Mendelssohn’s Piano trio no. 2 in C minor.

I took this lovely loaf to a piano meetup where a dozen people came together to share their love of the piano. The music was so diverse ranging from the Beatles to serious heavy Chopin works. I performed the Brahms’ Op. 118 Intermezzo in A major and Chopin’s Nocturne Op 9 no. 2.

It has been very slow in the garden because of the chill, with the exception of these baby bok choy that grow year around. We also have lots of coriander that is battling on.

My father is away at the moment but he left me a pumpkin, which I've enjoyed as an ornament on my dining table along with some lovely flowers from his garden.

That's it for this month, thanks for sharing in the food and extra thanks to Sherry for hosting the In My Kitchen series.

The arrival of colour

I’m going to start with this realisation / analogy, inspired by a story that Anita told me about swimming.

One must learn to go from a state of not being able to swim to a state of being able to swim.

First one can stand forlornly by the pool, seeing everyone else glide through the water, seemingly with zero effort.

Then one learns the arm motions and leg motions. One practises them religiously but they seem to make no sense.

One splashes out clumsily into the water, arms and legs flailing, hopelessly not able to replicate what they could do independent of each other.

Perseverance follows for an indeterminate period of time.

Then one day, the arms and legs are moving together, and one is swimming.

The glory of that moment is quickly coupled by a realisation of the lack of grace and control.

Slowly, one acquires the ability to swim quickly or slowly, in different styles.

Finally, one completely unspecial day, without any announcements, one stands by the pool and realises that one can swim.

It is only then that one realises it is impossible to replicate that state of non co-ordinated awkwardness.

It is as if you passed through a gate, and it is a one way gate.

This is perhaps the best analogy I can think of what happened two weeks ago.

On July 16, 2019 when I woke up, I realised I had passed through the gate. I must have felt this once in my life before when I was learning to play the piano, but I have no recollection of that profound moment (if it happened).

Let me try to capture this moment now.

It was the day after an on call shift that had not been particularly busy. The sunlight streamed through the north facing window in my living room, where I sit most mornings and read while drinking coffee. After a bowl of chunky oats and my usual coffee, I thought it would be a good time to play the violin.

These winter mornings have been cold, and I often play standing in the sun trying to warm myself up. That seemingly unspecial day, I was immediately struck by the sound that came forth. I stopped and asked myself if something was amiss – was I particularly sleep deprived? No. Happy or sad? No. My mind felt even and "normal", there was no perturbation that was evident.

Yet somehow as I played, I realised that something had changed inside me. It is as if the connection between my soul and the music had been strengthened. If life were a video game, I had won a “power up” special power. I always feel music in such vivid colour and depth in my soul, and yet I was frustratingly unable to replicate it on the violin for the last near-decade. 

As solid as that obstruction had been, it was gone in a moment, and I was on the “other side”. Absolutely nothing magical happened to my fingers or the technical side of playing – I am as clumsy as ever playing double stops and in higher positions. 

But the colour had arrived, and with it a different world.

The last two weeks have passed in a blur. I had to work most of the days but each day after work when I pick up the violin, the colour is still there.

I tried playing in total darkness and realised I can play with absolutely no visual feedback – the music just arrives. I tried playing piano pieces I had played before on the violin, and the shapes form effortlessly. I tried playing with others and heard my violin sing with beauty that I have never known. More than ever, I am aware of my technical deficiencies and what I exactly must do to strengthen the colour. 

There are no words that can describe the ecstasy that this change brings. I simply feel drunk with the realisation of the connection. I feel mildly afraid that it will leave me somehow, but with each passing day (and it’s still there!), I feel imbued with this sense of hope about the future.