In my kitchen: November 2019

I have been on the road since last month's IMK! What a journey it has been.

First, I flew to Shanghai to visit my grandma who is still in hospital with her broken leg. It was a short stopover but of course my father threw a huge party and we ate these absolutely delightful fried dumplings.

There's something so anticipatory about rising dough and making little plump pockets to be fried.

My dad grows baby bok choy everywhere so he can add a bit of green to soups. Here it is doing very well in Shanghai.

We also had these 菱角 - apparently a type of water chestnut which come in a gorgeous star shape. The texture is a little like chestnut, soft and floury once they are boiled in a stock.

Then it was off to Paris to play music with Emily and her Italian friend who lives in such a trendy area - the Latin Quartier of Paris.

The fresh produce at the market on Place Monge was incredible. Everything had such vibrant colours and smelled like the real deal.

For some reason I am drawn to artichokes and our little trio rebranded ourselves Le Trio de Artichauts. We particularly enjoyed playing the rare combination of 2 violins + viola trio - Dvorak's Terzetto (a really wonderful and rich piece, rarely played), and his Miniatures (even less played!); and the string trio by Taneyev, a little known Russian composers.
 

How I adore the rustic baguettes in Paris, burnished with a crackly crust, but meltingly soft on the inside.

We had a selection of four cheeses from the market also, a fresh soft cheese, a small goat cheese and two orange smelly cheeses. We also met another friend's son to play string quartets and for his inaugural string quartet debut we rather bit off more than we could chew with a little Haydn, then Mozart's Dissonance, the Beethoven Razumovsky 1st quartet, and a little of the first Brahms string quartet.

Then it was off to Essaouira, a little town by the sea where we loved the fresh food market.

Look at all this glorious mint!

Beautiful orange pomegranates with tendrils that fall straight off and seeds that are so soft they are digestible.

We loved the fresh fruit & vegetables, all reminiscent of the earth.

Of course we ate so much tagine. I never knew it was so easy to cook in one - just layer the bottom with onions, a splash of oil and the spices, then arrange the vegetables on top to cook slowly.

We had a wonderful piano in our airbnb so we played lots of piano duets this time, including my old favourite Schubert's Fantasie in F minor. Other highlights included Chaminade's Romantic pieces, Arensky's 6 pieces enfantines, and a few great transcriptions (Beethoven's 7th symphony, the Raz 1 that we played in Paris, the Brahms piano quintet, the Mendelssohn Octet).

Traditional Khobz bread dusted with a coarse bran or semolina, eaten with every meal.

A lavish breakfast including Moroccan pancakes and the best freshest orange juice.

Then it was off to Berlin, where we attended the concert of a lifetime - three megastars Daniel Barenboim, Anne-Sophie Mutter and Yo-yo Ma playing the Beethoven triple concerto along with the East-West divan orchestra. What an experience that was!

We also ate some excellent baked products including this cherry streusel. My favourite bakery (possibly ever) was Brot ist Gold, a new bakery in the Schonberg area featuring some of the best bread I've ever eaten.

A breakfast of rye bread and cheese, with fruit and Speisequark, a thick extra creamy yoghurt. In Berlin we explored the music of Robert Fuchs, a basically unknown composer who was apparently respected by Brahms but hated the public eye. We played his string duets for violin & viola which were great fun then even discovered his super difficult viola sonata

So much bread in Germany. I wonder how they got this nutty loaf into this peculiar shape?

I stopped briefly in Paris on the way home, enough time to have a magnificent croissant from Le Maison d'Isabelle, which had won the best croissant in Paris award of 2018 - a pretty spectacular award!

Second stopover in Shanghai with my viola and baguette. Who knew that the baguette fits perfectly into the straps of the viola?

So much cooking in foreign kitchens this month. I'm sending this to Sherry who hosts IMK, thanks Sherry!

Brot ist Gold

In Berlin, we came across a wonderful sourdough bakery.

Brot ist Gold (Bread is Gold) is a newly opened bakery in the trendy area of Schönberg near the Winterfeldmarkt. We were walking down the street when the bread display caught my eye and we stopped to admire the beautiful bread.

At that very moment a lady, coming out of the shop stopped to tell us how much she loved the bread, and how it had quickly become the neighbourhood favourite. And hence we decided to go in.

The shop is tiny with a single display shelf of loaves, each one handmade and unique.

The first day, we got the plain wheat loaf Weizenbrot which is a long fermentation (40 hours) high hydration sourdough.

No words can convey how spectacular this loaf was. The crust was a burnished gold, perfectly caramelised and bubbly. Slicing it was like music to the ears. The crumb was tender and moist, full of open holes. The aroma was deeply earthy and reminiscent of man's connection to earth via bread. It was a truly memorable experience!

Here is our simple lunch that day in Berlin. A salad of rocket, radish and tomatoes (so fresh and juicy), and the delightful sourdough with a peppery cheese and garlic wurst.

The second day, we went back to try the rye bread Roggenbrot, which is baked in the afternoon. We were so lucky to get the last loaf around 2pm!

The crust is so heavy on this loaf that the crackle pattern is an artwork in itself. The rye itself is very dark and melancholic, as if it was dug out of the ground.

Even though rye is a traditionally dense bread, they still managed to produce am incredible crumb.

On this day we had the same salad and a simple stir fry of Swiss brown and forest mushrooms with the same garlic wurst. Washed down with a glass of apple wine.

The third day, we returned to get a loaf for our music friends in Berlin. This loaf we ate with cheeses and a Riesling from the Rhine region, after we had played some great string quartets (Bach's Art of the Fugue, Beethoven Op 18 No.4 and Mendelssohn Op.12).

We met all 3 members of staff in the bakery, all of whom were friendly and welcoming. We adored their passion for sourdough and hoped that the bakery would thrive in the modern age of too much commercialised yeast bread.

Sourdough used to be the standard bread in Europe, each family having a sourdough starter that was passed down through the generations. We learned this time that this is called Hermann in German (as in, can I borrow some of your Hermann?) What a sweet name! The art of sourdough is lost now, though it's making a comeback all over the world. We loved this bakery's commitment to the locality as well, all their ingredients being sourced from within a 100km radius.

The first two days we were there, we also saw an older lady hanging out in the shop. She looked real cosy on an armchair that the guys put out for her. I couldn't help but ask on the last day who she was - she's an older lady who's lived in the neighborhood for four decades and decided to be friends with the bakery because they were nice! She hangs out there and enjoys their company. She even crocheted some little breads to put in the window display, because she says the window is sad when the bread is sold out!

Sometimes one feels a strange connection to things that are not explainable with simple logic. Of course we were drawn to this bakery because the bread was wonderful, but also there was a warmth and human-ness to the place that was greatly attractive. Given the strong competition of bakeries in Berlin, we really, really hope it thrives!

Dreams in Europe, October 2019

The magic icecream store

In this dream Em and I are minding three kids who are clearly not our own. One is a teenager and the other two mid primary age. None of them seem to be related either.

We are having some trouble controlling the kids as they run around trying to escape from view. Finally we pull them together and tell them we are going to the ice cream store.

Yay! Ice cream! They erupt in cheers.

The ice cream store had an amazing number of flavours which traverse the stairs going up from the bottom floor. There are so many flavours it's kind boggling, each one has a miniature model of what the flavour is (a mango, a coconut etc) sitting on top and the display looks really adorable.

The kids choose their flavours and change their minds again and again. Em and I cannot keep up with their preferences and when we get to the head of the queue, she accidentally orders a Colgate flavour.

There's actually a Toothpaste flavoured ice cream? I wonder to myself. The other flavours we pick up are apple (served in a realistic apple cone) and matcha sludges. But the toothpaste? I wake up before it arrives.


Jocelyn Glove and the baguette


In this dream I am at a staff meeting with the other intensivists in my department. It looks so ordinary that it feels real. We are discussing mundane things like rosters and meetings.

Suddenly, the peace is disturbed. One of the intensivists comes into the room and tells us that we are about to be arrested, all of us. We gasp collectively and ask what we did wrong, but she cannot tell us.

We all react differently, just as we would in real life. Some are crying silently, others pavpac anxiously across the room.

The intensivist who announced the trouble turns to me and says that there are two things that may help me escape. The first thing is already lost, but the second one is a patient compliment from a patient I had cared for.

Do you remember her? She asks me.

I rack my brains but don't remember her name.

It was a big case, she was very badly burnt. She tells me, but it does not trigger any memory.

Her name is Jocelyn Glove. She says.

Jocelyn Glove, Jocelyn Glove. I repeat to myself but it doesn't ring any bells.

Then the director comes in and says that we must work as a team to overcome this hurdle. This is the typical kind of thing a director says and we all look at each other cluelessly.

He brings a tray of small segments of bread, all torn up.

You must put this back together. He says.
It used to be a baguette.

I stare at the bits of bread, wondering how we can reconstruct the baguette. Then I wake up.


The lost German grandma

In this dream I am standing inside a train station that looks like Town Hall. I look at the display and the next train to newy is in 40min time. I look around for something I can buy to eat.

At that moment I see an older lady maybe in her 70s, looking very lost.

When I approach her to ask if she needs help she is delighted that I spoke to her.

She shows me a picture of a walking stick, very elaborate and high tech looking.

I don't really understand her but she keeps saying ich brauche diese... (I need this)

I decide that she needs to go to Kathmandu to buy it since it looks like an outdoor walking pole. I offer to go with her, saying ich kann mit dir gehen, ich habe viel Zeit (I can go with you, I have lots of time). But she insists I draw her the directions on the back of the tourist brochure she is holding.

After I've drawn the instructions she says thanks and starts walking back towards the station entrance. I walk with her a few steps and hear her gasp loudly at her suitcase which has been opened nearby, its contents spilling out messily everywhere.

She wails and lurches towards it, but she misses the last step in the flight of stairs and falls down flat on her face.

She remains very very still after that and I am concerned. She does not seem to be breathing.

With some effort I turn her body over and there is a single puncture mark between her eyes.

How did she get shot? I wonder, and wake up.


Down jackets and eagles

In this dream I am in a reality TV show and feel very mindful that I am being filmed. I walk past a room where my maternal aunt and grandmother are sitting in relative darkness.

Wanting to get away from them, I duck into the nearest room. It is a challenge station and the challenge is to show people how to wash their down jackets without losing the puffiness.

I don't know anything about washing down jackets so I really struggle. Then I get a text from Em and I think, great I can ask her since Canadians must know about it!

The message is a picture of a cathedral dome. When I look at it closely, it is not possible for anyone to take a photo like this. It is so close to the dome that the picture must have been taken in flight.

Then I realise that she must have turned into one of the long distance eagles that racked up a huge phone bill due to unexpected adventures to Kazakhstan. I laugh in the dream, and wake up in real life.

In My Kitchen: October 2019

I have really enjoyed the last few weeks, emerging out of the chilly weather. I worked a lot in September but interspersed it with heaps of music and baking.

In the garden…

The very last of the baby bok choy was harvested.

On the day I pulled every last stalk out of the ground, the pile stood so high that I thought it was a man (the Bok Choy Man) sitting on the chair.

It took me ages but I stripped all the stalks of bok choy and ended up with a huge bag (maybe 1kg) of bok choy leaves that I ate shredded in salad every day (every meal, practically) for two weeks. 

Here it is with some simple but delicious dal. Sometimes the simplest things are the best in life.

The warming of the weather means the coriander is coming to an end too, though I did still eat a heap of coriander every day in September.


Baking projects...

It was moon festival this month, and I decided to have a go at making Shanghainese style moon cakes stuffed with a savoury pork filling.

The pastry was quite a pain (had to make two types of dough – an oil dough and a water dough to mix together) but in the end the flakiness was worth it. 

The insides were so juicy and hot that I burned my mouth when they first came out of the oven!

In more news from Barney, here is a beautiful loaf with particularly lovely holes.

I’m fortunate to have sourdough most mornings for breakfast. My friend who always sends me pictures of avo on toast from various cafes inspired me to make this one – avo, cheese and spicy beansprouts. If I may suggest, that is the best fusion avo toast ever.

These are just about the most adorable things I’ve made for a while – cute little sourdough pumpkin buns stuffed with dark chocolate chips. They came out of the oven soft and moreish, pulling apart to delicate strands. The string to get the pumpkin shape was pretty fiddly but it was well worth the effort!

Onto the Food and Music series…

I went with the Merewether ensemble up to the Gold Coast for a music weekend. What fun that was! We were just about the most eclectic collection of musicians ever. There were the traditional instruments like piano, violin, viola and cello. But we were joined by a variety of recorders, a saxophone, a trombone and random percussion instruments. Of course we all had a go on the didjeridoo cos that’s really traditional chamber music! One of us brought a piece for piano 8 hands (that’s 4 people sitting at the same time on the piano bench) which became the theme song for the weekend. We also had the rare opportunity to play 2 piano duets!

Our gracious hosts made this divine slow cooked lamb shoulder one night for dinner, filling the house with incredible smells as it roasted in the oven, served with a zingy salsa verde.

Of course Barney came for the ride too, here he is on the plane reading the safety instructions

These delicious parmesan scrolls were eaten one night with some wonderful piano duets – the Peer Gynt suites by Grieg (just about my favourite piano duet music), the incredible Fantasie in F minor by Schubert and a lesser known work – Lebensturme (Life’s Tempest), and for a dessert a sweet little sonata by CPE Bach.

My string quartet had a wonderful reunion sans Barney (I was working too much that week). We had the most succulent salmon and crispy roast potatoes, along with fresh veggies and salad. This feast was enjoyed with all the violist's favourites - the Beethoven string quartet Op 18. No.4  (probably the quartet for our group), a mash through the first movement of the Brahms String quartet Op 51 No.1 & No.2, and the other all time favourite, Schubert's Death and the Maiden.

It was the violist’s birthday and we took the chance to indulge in this wonderfully rich chocolate cake. I switched the candles around while the cellist was looking for matches… How do you know we are all getting old? The cellist thought she’d developed dementia and the violist thought her eyes needed checking. Only the other violinist picked up immediately that I’d been up to mischief! Who knew that we could sing Paphy Dirtybah instead?

I'm sending this to Sherry who hosts the In My Kitchen series. Thanks Sherry!

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!