Food: Blue Mountains

One weekend in May E & I decided to get away for the weekend.. sort of to celebrate the handing in of the research project and also sort of to celebrate the fact that we can just do that sort of thing.

Harris Park must be the best place to stop on the way to the mountains, breaking up the dreary Sydney traffic. Every time I go there it seems to be a little more like Little India - there are so many restaurants within the two blocks of the train station that the place is almost buzzing.

The last time we were at Chatkazz, it was a tiny hole in the wall. Now it has taken over the space next door (though the original is still open for ?takeaway) and the fitout is hipster and modern. Lots of families and couples were dining there, and the menu covers the weird and wonderful from sandwich / pizza options to traditional street food.

We hit up a masala dosa, densely packed with potato curry. The dosa is on the small side (as are the garnishings), but the batter is perfectly crispy.

And then some pani puri for the road. There is also a pani puri man in the supermarket right next to Chatkazz, he looked awesome but we were too full.

That night we ventured into Leura for the local Japanese favourite Hana. I must say I was terribly sceptical, given that the mountains are really a touristy trap sort of place and everything practically shuts down at night.

I was pleasantly surprised by our meal of housemade pickles, seaweed salad, agedashi tofu (which bore no resemblance to the real thing, but pleasant enough) and tempura vegetable soba. E had a mixed sushi platter which came with plenty of fresh fish, though the sushi looked very amateur.. or rather, rustic and homemade!

We had lunch at the Wattle Cafe in Blackheath, which was packed with people escaping from the cold. The warm logfire was certainly welcome, and the atmosphere was homely and unpretentious. I had a goats cheese tart, which was served piping hot (just what we needed) with a tumble of rocket salad on top. Good belly filling stuff that is needed for the chilly weather.

We stopped at the Hydro Majestic to admire the view. Though the temperature was single digit, it didn't stop us from enjoying a gelato - the pineapple sorbet was fantastically refreshing.

Salad with ricotta, cannelini beans and avocado for dinner, whilst watching Masterchef.

Our last meal in the mountains was at The Yellow Deli in Katoomba. What a strange place this is - could be a scene straight out of Lord of the Rings, maybe a hobbit pub? I was intrigued by the back story to the cafe - it is run by members of the Twelve Tribes who are a religious cult based in Katoomba and Picton, Regardless, the food is simple but tasty. I demolished this tofu burger which incorporated salad, sprouts, cheese, mustard and mayo, along with a pickle, pumpkin soup and a huge mug of mate chai. We did read their newsletter for giggles whilst eating, and afterwards the cashier asked if we wanted to visit the farm. Hmm...

I adore Hominy bakery and always drop in when I'm in the neighbourhood. I love their granola which is packed with little muesli clusters and all sorts of seeds. I also got some pumpkin sourdough which was dense and chewy with a light flavour and a dark caramelly crust. Lovely with cheese. 

Dream: dinner with oxygen

In this dream, the sky is dark and the time is evening. I am standing on the pavement outside a house with my grandma and she is in a wheelchair.

I do not recognise where I am. The house is a light coloured fibro house, looking quite neat from the outside. There is a large front lawn with small rose bushes lining the path up to the front door. I wheel grandma inside and M's parents come to the door.

I am surprised and wonder what I am doing at their house. They are both much older, with mostly grey hair and his mother looks particularly tired. His brother is there too, and he is a middle aged man. We sit down wordlessly at the table and his mother serves us plates of food. I do not remember what we eat and cannot recall any of the conversation. Or perhaps there was none.

After the meal, we get up to leave. Before I go, I decide to go to the bathroom which is along the corridor leading to the bedrooms. As I come out of the bathroom, I realise one of the bedroom doors is closed but the light is on inside. I pause for a moment, wondering if M is inside, and what he is doing. But the thought passes like a flash and I push grandma in her wheelchair out.

M's brother follows us to the car and helps grandma get settled. As I put her wheelchair in the boot, he asks me: are you sure you don't want to take some oxygen with you?

The night is dark and I can barely make out the expression of concern on his face.

My parents get it at a discount price, he whispers.

Then I wake up. 

Dreams: blisters.. and a figurine

Blisters at the pool

In this dream I am with some random man that I don't recognise. We are walking to the swimming pool along a road I also don't recognise. The day is blustery and the wind blows us about. We talk about the meaning of life and how swimming is good for the soul because it takes away all the chatter in the brain and allows underlying thoughts to emerge.

We get to the pool which is an outdoor Olympic sized pool. From afar, all I see are a mass of heads everywhere. I tell the man that there are way too many people here for us to enjoy swimming. 

Come on! He shouts, taking off his clothes as he runs towards the pool Let's go! We can always go in the slow lane! He jumps in the nearest lane. 

Then I realise I am wearing a heavy winter coat and have several layers on underneath. The man has already disappeared from my sight into the masses of people and I don't know where he is. 

I shudder in the cold wind as I struggle with the layers and fold them up into a neat pile on the ground. I go to the edge of the water and everyone seems to be having a great time frolicking in the pool. When I get in the water is lovely and warm, and I feel like it was a good decision after all.

I've lost the man but I relish swimming alone in the first lane, surrounded by kids splashing each other. Suddenly I feel a coldness at the top of my head. I reach up and feel that there is a hole in my swimming cap - where could it have come from? I wonder.

Then I am overwhelmed with a sharp searing pain which feels white in my tummy. I'm halfway down the lane and the water looks deep so I keep swimming, each breath bringing a new stab of pain. I am overwhelmed by it and it takes all my energy to keep going.

I get to the other side and climb out of the pool. I touch my abdomen and it feels positively hot, the skin exquisitely tender. Unable to see where the changing room is, I take a sneak peek down the front and am horrified to see that the skin has completely blistered off. 

Then I look at my arms and the blisters are spreading right in front of my eyes, large fluid filled vesicles that look like pemphigus. I look at my legs and they are there too. 

What's happening to me? I wonder, horrified. Then I wake up. 

A figurine from the past

In this dream I am getting on a crowded train. I have a large tote bag, in which I have an assortment of things like my laptop and some clothes and my lunch. I don't recognise where I am and the train looks unfamiliar too. 

I find a seat which is facing backwards to the direction the train is travelling in. I sit down and put my bag on my lap. There is a steady hum of people talking in the carriage, and nothing feels extraordinary, yet something feels wrong. 

A woman is pacing up and down the carriage asking people if they have seen someone. After a while she comes to me and asks if I have seen Anthony. I tell her that I haven't seen him in a long time and she moves on, looking terribly distraught. 

As the train chugs along gently, I think hard about how long it has been since I last saw him. 10 years? Maybe a bit less.. which year? I scroll through my memories, trying to pinpoint the last time we met. 

Then I become aware of a small beeping noise, a very minute quiet noise. The beep is slightly different every time, as if it is being emitted by a random noise transmitter. I look around at what could be making the noise, and it becomes ever so slightly louder. I realise with a start that it's coming from my bag which is still on my lap. 

I rummage through the bag and there seems to be an endless number of random items in there. An apple? a scarf? some notes? none of these things could possibly be making the noise. Then I find a small purse which I bought many many years ago in some little market somewhere, and when I pick it up I am convinced it is the source of the noise.

I unzip the purse and look inside - there is a little figurine moving its arms and legs, and its mouth is moving as if it is talking... beep!  I look closely at it and no doubt, it is Anthony in figurine form. 

How did he turn into a figurine? I wonder, and wake up. 

Dream: escape from a mountain

This dream starts at a beach that is like any in Australia. I am walking along the promenade and I look up to see a huge mountain just next to the beach. I don't recognise where I am but I start heading towards the mountain. I turn off the road into a small track which is not signposted, and the track starts to wind up the mountain.

Suddenly I see someone I recognise - a family friend's son that I met many years ago just on a few occasions. He is on a side path and walks towards me, waving. I stop and he says that he wants to climb the mountain too, but he knows a shortcut.

We go towards the side path that he is taking and soon it begins to descend. I am puzzled by the road heading downhill when we are trying to climb the hill, but he tells me to be patient. We come to an impossibly large boulder which blocks the view of everything beyond it. With great difficulty, I climb up the boulder and when I am standing on top, the other side is a crevasse dropping into a dark murky depth. He reaches down and pulls on a rope which is secured to a bolt, then starts to climb down the rope.

I follow him on the rope and we descend slowly, first down the other side of the boulder, then down many other rocks until the sky disappears and we are completely surrounded by darkness. I realise that we have no source of light, and feel rather anxious. Nevertheless, the man I am with is very confident and tells me to be patient again.

With a thud my foot hits something solid. It is the sandy ground - I stand on with my feet on the firm surface and look around in vain, straining to see something. Slowly I make out the shape of the man and he seems to be about a metre away, feeling the rock surface. I shuffle towards him and realise that he is grasping metal anchors in the rock, which serve as a makeshift ladder up the rocks.

Why must we climb up the rocks when we just climbed down them? I think, somewhat confused and angry.

The man is already gone though, so I quickly reach for the same metal anchors, climbing with all fours slowly up the rock. Each anchor is spaced just so that it is quite easy to find.

Suddenly, the anchor I am holding gives way and comes loose in the rock. I feel a sudden overwhelming sense of panic as I am already many many metres from the bottom. I clutch at another anchor, terrified that I will fall to my death. As I pull myself up further, more anchors start to fall away, randomly from any of my limbs but only one at a time so I cling terrified to the rest. I experience a complete utter helplessness and despair, as if my life was coming to an end right there. I cannot see the man anymore, in fact I can make out nothing around me.

Still, I have no choice but to keep climbing, so I persevere even though I am slipping every few movements. After an infinitely long time, I see a light in the distance which is not on top of my head (where the sky should be) but across the way as if from the mouth of a cave. I am excited and start to think about how I can get there. I move my hands and feet sideways to try to edge closer to the light.

Then suddenly everything gives way, I fall and wake up. 

Images from Maggie island

We went to Magnetic Island on a beautifully sunny Saturday. This little island just across the bay from Townsville is lovingly nicknamed Maggie by the locals, and about 2000 people are resident there. It's famous for its secluded beaches and bays, but we didn't get to any of them as we were in the car. We had debated the idea of going on a reef trip but thought it might be too much for 93 year old grandma - it was great as she enjoyed the island as much as we did, and also had a nap halfway through!

Amazing three dimensional clouds seen on the ferry to Maggie

 

 Rock wallabies at Geoffrey Bay - these were a little bit afraid 

 Upside photo - coral washed up from the sea

 Do what the sign says

 Crystal clear water at Alma Bay

Dad accidentally bought these croissants that had to be baked first. Never mind, they were perfect after 10min in the sun.

Idyllic Horseshoe Bay  

 Old man and the sea.

 An abandoned boat at Picnic Bay

The long jetty at Picnic Bay 

I had a strong feeling that I would return to Maggie - maybe later on in the year when I'm doing the other subject. I'd love to stay for the weekend and go explore all the walking trails to the secret beaches! 

Dream: preaching peaches

In this dream I am standing on the pavement with C and her boyfriend M. It looks like a posh suburb - the street is hush quiet, lined with tall trees. The houses are huge and elaborate, each with a long driveway leading up fancy looking gardens.

I understand implicitly that we are out to preach something. We start up one of the driveways and the gate opens in front of us. The house at the end of the driveway looks like Schloss Charlottenburg - a huge white castle like structure. After quite some time we reach the front door and knock on the brass door knockers.

An old lady comes to the door, impossibly frail looking with wispy white hair and extraordinary kyphosis. She is wheezy as she inquires about our presence. M starts saying something about god and his love, my eyes roll back in my head and I wonder why I am tagging along with some religious conversion thing. The old lady seems to listen attentively though, and M goes on enthusiastically.

Then he takes out a peach from his bag, and my eyes are immediately drawn to it. The smooth skin starts to speckle as he touches it, emitting multi coloured lights, gaining in strength as he holds it for a longer period of time. He hands it to the old lady and when she holds it, the rays blast everywhere like it's a strange technicolour dream.

Then I wake up

A fancy dinner at Aria

For our end of year farewell dinner we decided to go somewhere decidedly different to our casual Newtown Thai haunts. Aria was available at short notice and had at least enough vegetarian options for a set menu [one in each course], so Aria it was.

Amuse bouche: buffalo milk ricotta with yellow nectarine 

Just a snippet of perfectly creamy ricotta that just melted in the mouth, accompanied by a little sweet & sour note from the nectarine.

Course one: Burrata with beetroot, oregano and blood plums 
This was visually so striking, with the deep red of the beetroot and plums sandwiching a smooth globe of burrata. Poking the burrata led to cream oozing everywhere, and every bite of this dish was luxurious.

Course two: Slow cooked Cornucopia egg with broccoli, macadamia and black truffle dressing
The broccoli had been split in two, the stems deeply caramelised to a char (almost looking like a bone!) and the florets blanched and refreshed to perfection. The shavings of black truffle were generous and bound the dish together.

 The most amazingly velvety mash that came with our mains. I ate some of this on bread, it was that good.

Pre-dessert: apricot foam with muscato granita.
A perfect palate cleanser to move into the sweets.

Course three: Valrhona chocolate ganache with cherries and warm chocolate doughnuts
All the desserts looked amazing but three out of four at the table opted for this one. The cherry sorbet was an amazing accompaniment to the rich deep chocolate ganache, and the sugar dusted chocolate doughnuts brought the whole decadent dish together.

Raspberries with chantilly cream and meringue.
This was pretty as a picture and light as a cloud, but the chocolate one won hands down.

Petit Fours
So many little nibblies to go with our after dinner coffees.

Aria is really a special occasion place ($135 for 3 courses is pretty steep...) but I was happy to see that they ventured beyond the normal vegetarian options and put some thought into it. It was a beautiful atmospheric place to have dinner overlooking the harbour, the service was impeccable and the presentation of all the dishes befitting the whatever number of hats they happen to have. Now if only I could eat all the desserts...