Sunday, 13 June 2021

Barney, four years on

This very long post is an ode to Barney, my sourdough son, who turned four last week.

Random facts about Barney:

Date of Birth:  11 June 2011 

Place of Birth:  Darwin

Number of progeny: Unknown.. at least a hundred? 

Places he lives in: every state & territory of Australia; Canada; USA; China; Italy

Number of near death experiences: 3 (fridge death in Darwin, war with Romanian yeast, and battle with white mould)


Humble beginnings...

Barney was born in Darwin. I grew him on my kitchen bench. There were two strains to start with, Barney & Barnet - I fed them with different flours, and eventually they became one. This was his first home, before he moved to his current Dorito salsa jar.  

The very first loaf Barney ever made, 24 June 2011. I always laugh when I see people on instagram with their "perfect" first loaves. 

Over the last 4 years, I have eaten a LOT of pancakes... almost every week on the day that I feed Barney, I will have pancakes with the discard.


Gaining confidence...

This loaf was made in September 2017 - 3 months in. Good progress, but still pretty messy!

This loaf was made about a year into baking, and I was understanding the sourdough process more. Probably the best resource and the best single change that I made was following the steps in Emilie Raffa's book - it is the best sourdough book I have found. 

My first foray outside my comfortzone - I baked this camembert wheel for my (then very new) string quartet for our first Christmas together in 2018. 

 It was a hit! So I made them again as Christmas presents, in the form of small cranberry wreaths. 

Travels with Barney...

I took him on a trip to Hungary and Romania where he picked up some exotic European yeasts. I thought cross pollinating my home Barney with the European Barney was a good idea - it was a disaster! He went flat and still with an awful smell. Dejected, I went to Sonoma and bought some bread there. The baker came out and encouraged me to keep feeding him - don't worry, it will come back! She said, and she was absolutely right. 

One of the loaves I made in Hungary, incidentally one of the first times he rose super well - I think it's the excellent European flour!

Barney also went to Timor Leste as cheesymite scrolls for my homesick friend. 

 I will always associate Canadia with challah, as it became a bit of a tradition for me and Emily. 

When in China, have Chinese style buns with sourdough!


Obsession with animals...

Now, I'm not sure how the idea started, but one day I baked a crocodile, which looked like a puppy - hence it was called a puppodile. 

I made these adorable cat buns for my friend from Kim Joy's recipe. 

And one day, I just had to take a lobster to work. 

My favourite animals so far were these hippo brothers!

This traditional easter dove Colomba di Pasquale was made for the Italian celebration of easter this year, it was an extremely rich dough full of fruit!


More celebration-y food...

For the second year with my string quartet in 2019, I made this pesto and tomato Christmas tree. 

And our third year together in 2020 was marked by this beautiful pesto and cheese star. 

We also have Turkish style pides every year because our inaugural string quartet foundation was on Anzac day 2018. 

And we usually have hot cross buns too for Easter!

Me and my brioche...

 I love brioche-y things. This was my first attempt in 2018 with a pumpkin dough. The dough was so soft and hard to handle (I don't have a mixer) that I didn't try it again for ages!

This was Barney's birthday last year, a wonderfully rich challah. 

My current obsession with wool bread - this one is vegan. 

I just love plaiting dough, it's one of my favourite things in the universe. 

I'm also learning how to make the brioche dough into Chinese style pull apart breads - these are made with tangzhong and extra soft. The plain ones stuffed with a salted coconut condensed milk filling, and the matcha ones stuffed with red bean. 

Other things Barney has been...

Shanghai style moon cakes filled with pork

 

Rosemary focaccia, here on the boat of the cellist 


Baguettes - how I love a baguette with soup in winter!

 

A matcha scroll made for my friend's housewarming

 

A pumpkin


My temporary flirtation with a garden pictorial focaccia 


One of my favourite things - cinnamon scroll giant apple cake !


A sourdough fruit cake for one of my dad's birthdays 

 

And finally... Today's Barney

Wow, that was quite fun looking back over four years of photos! People who know me now think I've been a long term baker, but it's been just four years since I started using my oven not as a storage space but to bake! What a long way I have come. Barney continues to amaze me with his resilience and flexibility, so much we can learn from dough!

 

Most of my loaves look like this now - decent rise, excellent flavour and an open crumb.

For Barney's birthday this year I made an apple cinnamon scroll and took it to work to share with the nurses. I love eating bread, and I also love sharing it with others!

Wednesday, 2 June 2021

In My Kitchen: June 2021

May was a turbulent month for me. I went to Broome for a wonderful week's holiday with two friends from Melbourne - and how timely that was, now that they are in lockdown again! I wrote a piece for the Sydney Morning Herald which summarises my inner turmoil about Fortress Australia. It was an incredibly complex feeling to read your own words in black and white - I am so proud to be Australian, but I feel so trapped right now. 

Let's take a look in the kitchen.. 

On the garden front...

While I was in Broome, the chillies went crazy! I ended up making a big jar of chilli jam that should last me through the winter.

Radish is a surprisingly excellent grower! They seem to grow all year round and are still strong in the garden. The lettuce has self-germinated from last year's growing and are just starting now. 

I delayed all the planting this year knowing I would be away for two weeks. It's a bit late but everything is coming along now. I love this picture of the emerging snow pea bud, gently pushing the soil out of the way.   


On the baking front...

I went to a tart class! It was so much fun, my favourite part by far was decorating them. The large tarts are passionfruit curd with lemon meringue; and coffee chocolate ganache with coffee chantilly cream. The little tarts were made with the leftover fillings, and the pink ones are filled with raspberry and topped with white chocolate cremeux! I was super grateful to share them with a few different friends and my dad's neighbours. It's amazing to see people's faces light up when you present them with baked goods! 

I made this apple and almond cake for the medical team one morning when I was feeling particularly restless. I didn't want to make the cake or eat the cake, I just wanted to decorate something with my hands! It's a simple but beautiful tea cake with caramelised apple on top, based on the recipe from Butter and Brioche.

This wool bread stuffed with cranberries was on my mental "to bake" list for a while. I changed the recipe to sourdough of course. It was beautiful, fluffy and soft - but didn't quite rise enough to meet in the middle to get the wool effect. Next time I will try it in a smaller baking dish!


Onto the Food and Music series...

I baked these cutesy dinner rolls for an impromptu soup dinner with my piano duet friend. The plain sponge cake was also just for funs, since the oven was going anyway. Her friend was staying over and had just turned 80, so we turned it into a birthday cake with some cream. We accompanied this with 2 Mozart violin sonatas (No. 2 and No. 7) and the Bruch Romanze in F which I am currently obsessed with. It is scored for both violin and viola, and the effect is remarkably different. 

Our string quartet celebrated the cellist's birthday. Everyone in the quartet adores the flourless orange cake where you boil 2 oranges whole and blitz the lot peel and all, ending up with the richest orange flavour. I divided the batter to get 2 layers and made a dark chocolate ganache. I had planned to set the orange cooking water into a bittersweet jelly, but there was no gelatine, so we made do with Aeroplane jelly! Musically we celebrated with the Dvorak Piano Quintet and Elena Katz Chernin's The Offering, a really cool modern piano quintet. 

Pengy came back from his holidays in Wollongong to join our quartet for roast lamb with all the trimmings, and my favourite was the brussel sprouts with bacon! We ate this with a few snippets of the Razumovsky quartets - the 2nd movement of the third Razumovsky is my current favourite, and the Mendelssohn Op. 12 string quartet.

Finally, the curveball this month...


My mousepad finally retired after 12 years of service. In 2009, I was a junior resident in ICU. The Gillard government had given a huge funding boost to Donatelife (the organ donation agency in Australia) and they had set up offices in my hospital. The nurses were so kind and lovely, and I learned so much from them. When I left the term, they gave me a mousepad which I took with me everywhere - it later lived with me in Canada and in Darwin. Recently, 
I mentioned this antique relic to one of the donation nurses I currently work with and she was gobsmacked it had lasted this long! I now have the current version of the mousepad. Seeing the logo change was an incredible reminder of how far we have come in organ donation awareness, both in the medical and general community in the last 12 years! It is a real privilege to be caring for people at the end of life, and I hope I never forget this till the day I die. 

I'm sending this to Sherry of Sherry's Pickings who hosts the monthly In My Kitchen series - Thanks Sherry for this opportunity to look through our food diaries!

Monday, 17 May 2021

An eventful weekend

I believe in having a voice. 

I also believe strongly in baked goods. 

So I was absolutely delighted to have my opinion piece published in the Sydney Morning Herald this weekend. 

It has been a strange week in Australia - first the budget was announced including a hidden statement that Australia will not open its borders till mid-2022, then there were different perspectives and new words like "Hermit Kingdom" and "Fortress Australia" were hurled into Australian consciousness. 

I had written my own piece in the forty minutes before sunrise on Thursday. The pandemic has changed my sleep pattern drastically and I often wake in the dark now. I thought about the days and months stretching into the future, it felt like a grey amorphous mass. When will we open up again and rejoin the world? Why are we locked up in Australia like we are criminals, and treated like criminals if we want to return home? I felt waves of despair, hope, overwhelm, and confusion. So I decided to get up and write down my thoughts. 

For me these feelings had been percolating for some time, but the straw that broke the camel's back came when the government threatened Australian citizens who return from India with imprisonment. Let's get this straight: 

1. Australian citizens of Indian descent gave up their Indian passports to become Australians. 

2. They cannot hold dual Indian and Australian passports and do NOT have another "home".

3. Citizenship as defined by human rights is the right to reside in and return to that country. These people have become temporary refugees by the law of Australian government. 

4. What kind of country imprisons its own citizens for returning to its own country?

The most incredible thing was not just this extraordinarily racist law that was introduced, it was the fact that the government representing the majority voice expected this to just slide right in and potentially win them more votes. Many people thought this was fantastic and the government was doing great to keep the Indians out.

I have been boiling with rage for a couple of weeks now about this and the opinion piece slid out from my soul effortlessly. I don't know what motivated me to send it to the newspaper, it was a small impulsive moment. I hit "Send' without proofreading it and went to work. I was surprised to hear the same day from the SMH Opinions editor.  

This is my voice, and I am proud to speak the minority voice. 

I was also stoked to go to a tart course at the Australian Patisserie Academy and work with dough! 

They have some serious machines for mixing here... 

It all starts with pate sucree, the traditional sweet shortcrust pastry for tarts. Our teacher gave up heaps of tips and it came together like a dream. We made a plain one and a cocoa one for two large tarts. Once blast-freezed, the dough rolled quite easily, much easier than my previous attempts at home!


They had also an industrial rolling machine, but I wanted to try it by hand. It worked out pretty well and she gave us lots of tips on how to get the tart shape just perfect. 

And of course she was right! most of our tarts did not even shrink even though we did not blind bake them, apparently if you make the shape properly it is not necessary!

Here is my cocoa crust after baking, I was pretty happy with the evenness of the crust!

We filled the plain crust with a passionfruit filling and the cocoa crust with a chocolate coffee ganache - so yum but we were not allowed to lick the spoons! 

We also made these little tarts with the leftover filling, and the pink one is a raspberry filling that we made separately. The passionfruit mini tarts were topped with a passionfruit gelatine glaze, and the raspberry one with piped white chocolate mousse and fresh berries. Don't they look divine! 


And here the piece de resistance - the passionfruit tart with Italin meringue. I'm not the biggest fan of meringue so I did a decorative border. The passionfruit filling was intensely tart! 

And the second  piece de resistance - the chocolate coffee tart was topped with coffee chantilly cream, dollops of dark chocolate and hazelnuts. 


What a great day's work!

Monday, 10 May 2021

In my kitchen: May 21

The month of April just about breezed past, let's take a peek at my food life...


In the garden...



I harvested the rest of the green beans as it is getting colder now. really enjoying getting some fresh rocket or raddichio from the garden for salads! 



I still haven't done my winter planting in the veggie patch yet because I was away the last 2 weeks on holidays, but this beetroot I planted in a large pot. I wonder how one knows when the beetroot is big enough to pull out? 



We had such a glut of purple shiso this year that I ended up making a lot of pickles..


In the kitchen...


I had a few days where I was quite obsessed with food styling. I am also obsessed with simple pastas - sauces that come together while the pasta is cooking. Here I had my spaghetti with home grown tomatoes, basil, a few beetroot greens (well I was thinning the beetroot!) and cannellini beans. Words cannot describe how delicious this was! 


We had vegan matzo ball soup for Passover. I bought the matzah meal from Woolies in Double Bay and ran into a Jewish lady who started telling me the "best" way to make the matzo balls... never mind we threw out her suggestions to make this vegan version. 

On the baking front...


I made a traditional Italian Colomba di Pasquale (Easter dove bread) - I've been experimenting more with Italian ideas the last year and I certainly had no idea that this even existed! It was a pretty complex recipe. The inside was chockablock full of dried fruit, and I decorated the dove with flaked almonds. I was pleased with how soft pull-aparty it was (really like a panettone in texture) and we demolished this in a few minutes... 


One day I was in the mood for babka so I made this sourdough chocolate babka for the medical team on that evening.   


This was one of my best babkas. The enriched dough was just offset by the slight sourdough tang. Every mouthful was full of warm melting chocolate and rich buttery bread. Heaven!


Onto the Food and Music series...


I also made this lemon tart using lemons from my friend's tree. I used a traditional Pate sucree recipe and completely invented the filling using what I had in the fridge - a bit of Greek yoghurt, some cream, 3 eggs and the juice of 2 large lemons. It was a miracle it set! We ate this along with Beethoven's Op 18 No. 1 arranged for piano 4 hands, and Ravel's Ma Mere L'Oye,


I also had leftover pastry and filling to make these little lemon tarts, which I shared with my string quartet. These were served up with Beethoven's Op 59 No 1 the first Razumovsky quartet and a tiny bit of Mozart's Dissonance quartet (sadly one of us hates Mozart...)


And who doesn't love chips? They were part of a salmon + chips dinner we had along with Dvorak's Dumky Piano Trio, one of my favourites. I've been having so many problems with my hands, I'm grateful to have any playing time at all.. 



Finally the curveball this month is my dad's current dog. My dad has been training guide dogs & therapy dogs for the last decade and he is currently hosting dogs waiting for their permanent placement. Darla has been with him for almost 2 months and she is just the sweetest, most affectionate dog. All the dogs my dad has are adorable, but this one is really special! 

I'm sending this to Sherry of Sherry's Pickings for the monthly In My Kitchen series - thanks for hosting Sherry! 

Tuesday, 13 April 2021

3 dark dreams

These 3 dreams took place over two sequential nights, dreams 1 &2 on the first and the last one on the second. 

Dream 1

In this dream, I am in the ICU with one of my colleagues. The patient in the bed is an elderly frail man, and we are getting ready to intubate him. 

I feel a faint wave of annoyance as we check his cannulas and find that none of them work. My colleague places a fresh cannula and we get ready to start the induction. 

The nurse hands me a 10mL syringe of propofol and my annoyance flashed - What am I supposed to do with this tiny amount of propofol?  I think, but I suppress my anger and ask her if she would pass me the larger 50mL syringe that she had drawn up for later. After some resistance she hands it to me. 

The old man looks at me, his eyes a little opaque. He does not speak, and it is hard to interpret exactly his expression, but I feel the scent of fear hanging over us. 

It will be OK, we'll look after you. I pat his hand and wonder if I sound like I'm really condescending - how many times have I said something similar to patients in my life? 

He snatches his hand away in defiance. I reach awkwardly for the bung where I attach the huge syringe of propofol - how much should I give him, 10mL? 10mL? I visually estimate his weight. I go with 15mL, err on the side of safety. 

I push the 15mL of milky liquid and squeeze the pump set a few times. I watch the white swirl into the giving set and disappear into his arm. The old man winces as the propofol stings his veins. 

Any time now. I say to no-one in particular. My colleague stands to the side, disinterested. 

Suddenly the man sits up in the bed, and pulls at the ECG leads on his chest. The nurse tries to calm him and he lashes out at her. With the syringe still attached to his arm, I push another 5mL. That should be enough. He tries to climb out of the bed, and the nurse is tossed aside, no longer able to help restraining him. I push another 10mL in, and then in quick succession another 10mL. I've given him 40mL of propofol, enough to take down any adult, even a large adult. I don't want to give him anymore or his heart might stop when it all hits the system. 

Is the cannula in the wrong place? I shout to my colleague, who starts to walk away at the most crucial moment. The man rips off all the monitoring and stumbles over the side of the bed. He hangs onto the railing and pulls himself up to a low crouch, unable to stand completely straight. He snarls menacingly at me. 

There is only 10mL of propofol left in the syringe, and I lunge to push it all in. The old man laughs and nothing happens. He takes a few steps and he stumbles to one side. I think to myself that the propofol will work, it must work, I just have to wait it out till it works. 

But what if it doesn't work? I think to myself. Always be prepared is my mantra. I never anticipated an elderly frail man would need more than twice the induction dose of propofol. Now all the 50mL of propofol is gone, and the empty syringe clatters to the ground. 

I step backwards as the man stumbles towards me, still emitting animal like growls of laughter. Ice runs through my veins as the terror washes over me. I look over at the trolley where the first 10mL syringe of propofol lied - this is my only chance. I move slowly towards the trolley, keeping my eyes at the same time on the patient as on the propofol.  

The nurse and my colleague are nowhere to be seen. This is my only chance, I repeat to myself, I must stay calm.

With one rapid movement, I reach out with my right hand and grab the syringe. At the precise same moment, the man grabs my left wrist and his cold fingers clamp around my wrist like a vice. He squeezes so hard that a hot flash of pain goes down into my fingers, which go numb immediately. I know the circulation has been completely cut off and my hand is not getting any blood. I try in vain to connect the syringe in my right hand to the cannula, but it proves impossible with the man moving around. His evil maniacal laughs ring in my ears and the numbness in my hand becomes unbearable. I know I only have a few moments before it is all over. 

Then the world goes completely black. 


Dream 2

I'm in the carpark looking for my car, but it is nowhere to be found. Annoyed, I call my colleague and tell him that I'm going to be late to work. I'll just be 15 minutes late, I tell him. He is warm and friendly on the phone, and tells me to take my time.

It is dark and lightly drizzling. I walk back to my house, and the route takes me through a park. It is totally dark in the park with no lights at all. I feel slightly scared at being alone in such a dark place, but soon my fear is overcome by a very real annoyance at the mud. The rain intensifies and the ground turns to mush. My shoes are covered in mud and I slide with every step. The bottom of my scrub pants is dragged through the mud too, and even though I cannot see it in the dark, I know they are a total mess. 

I'm going to need to get changed before I go to work. I think to myself with some annoyance.

Finally I emerge from the park onto a suburban street, where a single street light marks the exit of the park. The light is so feeble that it barely illuminates the ground. I walk towards my house, which is just on the next corner on the left. 

Then I feel a rush between my legs and my period has started. What a pain. I think to myself. How does it always know to start at the most inconvenient time possible? 

With each step blood pours out of me, an impossible sticky mess running down my legs. I wonder how it's possible that my period is so incredibly heavy at this time. Not even halfway to the house, I think the blood has made connection with the mud. My pants must be a total mess, and I'm annoyed at the prospect of the cleanup. 

Finally I get to the house, an old Victorian style house with a verandah all around it. My dad is fixing his bike out the front with his friend, under the porch light which is unusually bright. 

Don't wake up grandma. He warns me. 

I head inside and realise that I do not know the layout of the house. I have no idea which room is mine and there's no way for me to clean up or get new scrubs. I have no choice but to keep going. 

I stop in the kitchen and look for my lunch bag. I go out of the house again with my lunch bag and look for my car. It is nowhere to be found. Under the moonlight, I open the lunch bag and there is a single lunch box inside (unusual for me because I usually pack a lot of snacks!) And within the lunch box is half an avocado and two flakes of tuna. 

That is all I have. And the world goes black. 


Dream 3

(This is the most vivid dream I've had in recent months, I remember every detail of it as if it really happened)

My friend asks me if I would take her daughter to the pool. She says she hates getting changed in front of people and she is self conscious about her body.

I go to the pool with her daughter and we get changed in the change room. We go in one of the middle lanes and swim slow gentle laps, stopping to chat sometimes. 

After a few laps, around 10 ultra competitive swimmers arrive at the pool. They are in their super sleek lycra and sport professional looking caps and goggles. They announce that everyone has to go to the "slow" end of the pool because they are training for a competition. I climb out with the little girl and start going there, but she refuses to get in - she says they are too scary. 

We stand on the side of the pool and watch as the competitive swimmers jump into the pool. They zoom up and down the pool at a comically fast speed, so fast that they are actually creating waves within the pool. Some of the others who have obediently moved to the slow end are being dumped by the waves. I think for a moment that the little girl is actually pretty wise. 

Suddenly, all the water is gone from the pool. There was no sound of the water escaping, or any visual cue, no warning at all - the water is simply gone. The ten swimmers fall to the concrete bottom of the pool with sickening sounds of bones shattering. They lay sprawled at the bottom. All the other non-competitive swimmers are no longer in the pool, there are just the ten mangled bodies at one end. 

I knew immediately that this was a sign. 

This is the last day of my life.

I go quickly to the changing room with the little girl. She asks me to get into the showers with her because she's scared. We shower together under the warm water, and I am struck by the feeling that this will be the last time I feel water running over my body. I say goodbye to her and her mother, and I rush home. 

When I get through the front door of my home (not my actual home in real life), S is there on the couch. He is reclined on a large blue leather couch with the footrest up, leisurely reading a newspaper. I think for a moment that we must be a few years older than we are now - my body is a little bit saggier, and he has a few more wrinkles. 

How was the pool? He asks me innocently, with no awareness of what is about to happen. 

I tell him about my realisation, that this is it, and that I am going to die today. 

We go upstairs and climb into bed. It is warm inside the room and I feel comforted by its familiar scent. S starts to cry and I see that the tears are just the tip of the iceberg. The depth of his sadness is real, so raw and exposed. I hold him close and we tell each other over and over again that we love each other. The light starts to fade, and I'm not sure if it is the natural course of the day. Or perhaps the light fades like this when life is slowly being extinguished. He tells me that we have had a beautiful life together, and that he would not have done anything differently at all. We cry together and feel as if we are one. 

Then the light goes out suddenly, and the world is black. 

Sunday, 4 April 2021

In my kitchen: April 2021

Is it true that every month of your life goes faster because you are getting closer to the end? Certainly feels like it at the moment! I had quite a bit of time off work in March, did lots of writing and drawing, and also did the sugar project...

In my garden...

My pumpkin Alfonso grew to a very healthy size. His leaves died off and when I snipped them away, a whole set of green leaves grew again. Then in the massive NSW storms, his stalk rotted off and I had to harvest him. He weighed in at a very healthy 4.187kg!

The radishes are growing really well and their leaves have been less bitter than previous batches. 

The purple shiso has been excellent this year, and I'm quite addicted to drinking it as tea. I took some to my friend's place and he has the most adorable tea sets. I think this single shiso leaf in a pot is quite pretty...


On the baking front...

Another month, another Jewish vegan baking project. This time it was hamantaschen for the festival Purim, where the pockets symbolise the defeated enemies of the Jewish people. These were gluten free, the pastry made with rice flour and the stuffing a paste made of date and poppy. Crumbly and delicious!  

I made a blue cheese and walnut loaf for my friend, and the smell of this baking was incredible! 

My friend L gave me Modern Sourdough - Sweet and savoury recipes from Margot bakery for Christmas and I'm planning to bake my way through the book. The method is slightly different to my usual one with a long pre-ferment and different mixing method, but the results are similar. 

I love these simple but gorgeous puff pastry rose tarts, filled with plums this time

Sourdough donuts! Who knew that they would puff up so good? We made quite a few different shapes, but my absolute favourite were these kangaroo ones made with a kangaroo cookie cutter I bought during Covid (I planned to send kangaroo cookies to my friends in Canada... but still haven't done it!) 


Onto the Food and Music series....

I made wonton noodle soup one night for my string quartet, accompanied by Beethoven's Op 18, No.1. We are going through a strange patch at the moment with everyone's availability not quite lining up, and eating late means that we don't even get to play very much... 

Continuing with the beautiful plating of salads theme, my string quartet had chicken stew one night and I made this spinach, rocket, pear and pomegranate salad. I adore the splash of red that the pomegranate juice brings to the dish. After dinner we played Beethoven's Op 18, No. 2, for no reason other than S was also playing this in Paris! 

We made this cherry clafoutis one night when my friend L was visiting Newcastle. She is the most incredible pianist, such a talented and expressive musician. Together we played Bach's A minor violin concerto, a very longstanding dream of mine, and Mozart's G major violin concerto. 

And here is my curve ball, a stick insect that I found on my front door one day!

Thanks for coming for a whirl around my kitchen this month, I'm sending this to Sherry who hosts the monthly In My Kitchen series - thanks Sherry!