ragingyoghurt

6

i made dinner for my mum and myself last night. pan-fried ocean trout on mashed pea-potato, with beansprouts in a mirin-soy-sesame dressing.

confoundingly, the last few of times i bought trout or salmon, the pieces of fish came sans skin. where did the skin go? did the fishmongers think they were doing me a favour? did they sell the skin to those nori roll places that do the fried skin and mayonnaise maki?

[ momentary lapse in blogging as i salivate and think about a salmon skin maki ]

did they save it for themselves so they could prance around at home draped in nothing but fish skin?

it’s just, peppered and salted and fried… well you know. and i can’t even continue.

so. eating the crisp, raw beansprouts last night made me reminisce about the stir-fried beansprouts we used to have at home, while growing up. they were cooked until transparent and limp, and tasting faintly of, dare i say it, rancid water. the saving grace was the bits of salted fish tossed in. all those plates of dinnertime flaccid turned me off beansprouts for years and years. such a pity.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 17 October 2005 at 11:21 am
permalink | filed under dinner, kitchen

4

further to the last post, i thought that i’d have to document the brave new pocky that i found at miracle supermarket. well ok, so they’re not strictly pocky, since one of them is made by morinaga, and none of them is a pretzel stick covered in icing, but the point is how much flavour can you put in a pretzel stick!?

from left to right: NY brownie; maple syrup and butter; and the surprising reverse, where the icing is on the inside.

i can’t wait to eat my pocky.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 17 October 2005 at 11:13 am
permalink | filed under packaging, shoping, snacks

5

it’s been a maccha kind of weekend.

first up, a saturday rendezvous in a pretentious frainch bakery with saffron, who immediately plied me with a brown paper bag tied up in pretty green ribbon.

perhaps you are unaware that when i moved house the other month, it took most of a large packing carton to hold my extensive brown (and white and pink and… you get the idea) paper bag collection. yes, i purged myself of stacks and stacks of magazines and somehow couldn’t put a single brown paper bag into the recycling bin.

um, anyway. so the brown paper bag was good, but inside was, as the girl herself said, “a lamington degustation. heh.” — better.

several hunks of sponge cake, a tub of red bean paste, a tub of maccha icing and a package of shaved coconut. intriguing, no? it’s just, there was a green tea lamington challenge sort of put out there, and a rising to the challenge, and a last minute maccha mishap… and thus, a serendipitous hamper. and saffron, i think it could still come together as soon as i go out and get a tub of cream.

cream will make it all better.

although i fear i will devour the yummy sponge before i get myself organised.

my mum arrived from warmer climes later in the day, and plied me with a lovely cardboard box, wrapped in beautiful japanese paper, wrapped in more beautiful japanese paper, in a gorgeous japanese print paper bag.

perhaps you are unaware that when i moved house the other month, it took quite a bit of a large packing carton to hold my extensive cardboard box collection… i’m not kidding. and of course you already know the story of the paper bags. sigh.

inside the box was a tray of minamoto kitchoan daifuku: six maccha-white chocolate and six dark chocolate. and two ceremonial toothpicks for impaling them like the sacrificial desserts they are. i had to immediately excuse myself and make a pot of genmaicha, and soon a fat, green thing was in my mouth. it tasted of green, then cool, and its core was soft white chocolatey.

at this point i want to share with you this message from the president of mitchoan kitchoan: “flavorful desserts can do much to bridge hearts when people get together. sometimes the dessert itself can serve to invent fresh topics of conversation. the joy of eating is only one of many roles a dessert or confectionery plays. it can enhance the moment when people cross paths, or it can convey a person’s true feeling toward someone very special.” yes.

sunday found us — sisters, mothers, daughters in a group of four, sitting in a bustling starbucks after the rest of the shoping centre had shut itself up. the baby had a hot chocolate all to herself, or at least the four centimeters of chocolate crema you get on half a cup of hot chocolate ordered off the kids’ menu. i’ve always found that i’m saddled with more hot chocolate than i want (yes, it is possible) when i buy one at a shop, so this is now my preferred hot chocolate. and only .85.

but my favourite starbucks treat is still the green tea frappacino, though sometimes i think it could taste a little more green. as my aunt observed this afternoon after sampling a spoonful from my cup, “it tastes like powdered non-dairy creamer”. but it’s green! specifically, that green.

and so, this third maccha confection brought the weekend to a close. there is a fourth for later: maccha biscuits studded with red beans, bought during a “supermarket sweep”-type frenzy earlier in the day, at a very cool asian grocery in chatswood. i’ve just looked at the receipt, and in fact the shop is called “miracle supermarket”, which it is.

if memory serves me correctly, my exchange, in mandarin, with the boss lady at checkout, went something like this:

“your stuff is really exciting!”
“exciting meh?”
“yes, there’s all this pocky i’ve never seen before!”
“oh, haha, thank you.”

i’ve never made anything with maccha, not even the tea itself. it’s mostly due to laziness, and partly due to not knowing which brand to get. as saffron apologetically explained, the one she bought tasted like rancid water. mmm. perhaps, santos, you could recommend a brand? you who seem to have had spectacular success with this, and this and especially this. i salute you.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 16 October 2005 at 9:38 pm
permalink | filed under around town, cake, drink, snacks

6

gawrshdarnit. i came and sat down at the computer with my cup of milky tea, and the last third of a bar of chocolate, and all of a sudden there is not very much chocolate left at all.

my most favourite chocolate bar at the moment is the dagoba roseberry bar: dark chocolate with raspberries and rosehips. mmmmm. the cacao content is just about perfect at 59%, and there are little crunchy red bits all the way through. it is only a slim little specimen — 56.7g — divided into elegant little fingers, and i had the best intentions of just having one finger and making the other two fingers last until saturday, when i’ll be able to go out and get me a whole new bar, but the chocolate has gotten the best of me, and i am now half a finger away from no chocolate at all.

note to self: stop eating the chocolate!

posted by ragingyoghurt on 13 October 2005 at 9:21 pm
permalink | filed under chocolate

10

a quiet start to the trip away: a slice of passionfruit tart from a bakery in berrima.

two weeks in a sparsely-furnished house in still-wintery north-eastern country victoria, we knocked together such treats as:

a homemade vegetable soup standing triumphant on the base of a tin of five-bean mix. five!

a grand breakfast of fried egg on buttered toast, mushrooms and bacon.

a main course that was supposed to be a grilled lamb chop, but really, it was the enormous tin of sauerkraut.

…which lasted for another couple of meals, including this grilled chicken wing with three white vegetables. yes, i’m counting the mashed potato as a vegetable.

there were cakes of course, many other cakes, but they were eaten too quickly to be documented, which is a pity because the gooey chocolate nougat cake, as big as a car tyre and covered in a mound of shaved chocolate, was a sight to behold. there were scones with cream and lemon butter. there were meat pies and pasties… which, if i lived in the country is surely what i would become. pasty.

there was breakfast at the tourist cafe in cooma (also serving greek meals and continental meals), which was so old skool that the mushroom omelette had the consistency of a kitchen sponge studded with tinned champignons, because indeed the cook had used tinned champignons…

see? see that rubbery little mushroom?

…and everything on the breakfast menu came with buttered white toast and chips. which ordinarily would have been a cause for celebration, but i was already full from the massive swirl of soft serve ice cream floating atop my iced chocolate, and so. uneaten chips. most unusual.

ah, the country.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 11 October 2005 at 9:59 am
permalink | filed under breakfast, cake, dinner, kitchen, trip

10

nice pear. today, an adventure: the sydney sandwich social whereby sandwiches are made and halved and swapped and eaten.

at ten-thirty, as, all casual-like, i sliced bread, cheese and pear, what the second processor in my head was thinking was, well, i suppose i could make a sandwich, and if all goes well, i’ll be ready to leave the house at eleven-thirty, with a sandwich and a baby. and then it happened! hence, my new plan will be to not make plans, and to let the second processor take care of things.

because then we were on the bus into the city, the magic bus that has a space for a pram, and takes you all the way to the botanical gardens (or the art gallery, if you are that way inclined). and we were walking around under the hot hot sun, looking for a small group of people with large sandwiches. and we were finding them at last, and sitting down in the shade of a tree, and chasing birds and eating twigs and leaves of the ground.

this is the sandwich i made:

pear, pesto and parmesan on walnut bread. last night, when i described the idea to my sister, she paused and thought about it, then said, “unexpected. and tasty.” and then, “does it have to be an alliterative sandwich?” why, no. but they came together all sweet, salty and faintly green.

in the end there were more sandwiches than people, and more cookies and muffins too, and quite a bit of fun for a baby who hadn’t slept in about five hours.

and now i am home, with a baby in bed, and a cup of tea and a delicious apple-streusel muffin, and the saturday review section of movies i will not get to see, not for a very long time, not until they come out on DVD, maybe.

thanks to saffron for the picture of my sandwich, and augustus gloop for the muffins, and to both for bringing all the sandwiches together.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 24 September 2005 at 4:54 pm
permalink | filed under around town, kid, lunch

4

being a slack bastard, i still haven’t dealt with the previous two memes hurled my way. i’m sorry. your time will come, memes!

however, this evening, a short, sweet one beckoned, and because i am too full of mashed potato (and sauteed red cabbage and steak) to go to bed (and also i am trying to have the food settle enough that i might have a piece of chocolate), i am playing along:

1 delve into your blog archive.
2 find your 23rd post (or closest to).
3 find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4 post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5 tag five people to do the same.

so. the sentence, from june 18, 2003:

“unfortunately the photographic adventure was cut short, because a maniac was trying to kill us, and we had to throw him off the balcony.”

what!? yes, i know it seems a long way from talk of cake or mashed potato… but you see, the camera was chocolate. now you really want to run over to the archives don’t you?

run! i pass the baton to: carla gypsygirl, gem, hikaru, krissie and stellou.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 20 September 2005 at 8:28 pm
permalink | filed under blog, dinner

5

behold, this glossy zeppelin in my hand; why, it is actually a custard brioche with a jaunty and tastalising splodge of yellow peeking out the hole on top, from the bakery next to victoire.

“you know that bakery next to victoire? it’s really good.”

“yes. i go to that bakery.
i had an excellent meatpie there once.
i don’t go to victoire.
only you and your sister go to victoire.
what a pretentious name.”

“um. i’m sure lots of other people go to victoire besides me and my sister.”

“i meant in this household. only you and your sister, from this household. i mean, vic-toire.”

“it’s a french bakery. why wouldn’t they have a french name?”

“but the word itself. there are pretentious english words and unpretentious english words.”

“i think any french word would sound pretentious to you.”

“what about ‘bread’? what’s the french word for ‘bread’?”

“it’s ‘pain‘, but it’s spelt like, pain. people would go there thinking they were going to get pierced.”

“well… … …”

and this is the boy who had a (non-french) friend, who wanted to name her son ‘papillon’.

anyway, whatever. speaking of pretentious, i really want one of these villeroy and boch silver-plated tea infusers, to replace my misshappen, tannin (or is it rust?)-stained mesh one. will it be the twiggy?

posted by ragingyoghurt on 13 September 2005 at 9:54 pm
permalink | filed under boy, nellie, shoping

11

my desk is littered, happily, with little dishes and tea cups. three dishes and two cups now unburdened of their treats — surely they haven’t been there that many days — and the currently active set bearing tea, and a lamington and a truffle.

the lamington is not just notable for the fact that it was marked down for quick sale at woolworths yesterday; the boy came at me, brandishing the package. six for a dollar, and three whole days before they expired. they are frosted in raspberry butter cream, which seems like a bit of a luxury, no? for a dollar?

the truffle is notable for the fact that it is perhaps the best damn truffle i have ever eaten. it tastes of dark and bitter, and chocolate and cream, and it melts away on your tongue, leaving behind a rabid desire for more! more! you can avail yourself of one such truffle (or an entire bag) at la renaissance patisserie down at the rocks.

the tea is tetleys, and is best forgotten.

these little plates of sugary snacks fuel me. i am drawing again, only small drawings for small sums of money in the small amount of time i have, but it feels good to do, and i shall try to do more.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 11 September 2005 at 5:49 pm
permalink | filed under around town, boy, cake, chocolate, snacks, werk

1

i’ve tried to write this three times in three days, and this morning — dim and rainy — i’m sitting here armed with hot chocolate and buttery brioche (and leaving little oily fingerprints on my mouse and keyboard), and i think it just might happen!

this might have been a story about great big bowls of gelato, and babies covered in chocolatey dribbles, but noontime on thursday we trundled up to a cold, dark room pretending to be a gelato shop on darling street. yes. if you wish to go to gelatissimo in balmain, make sure to get there after one, for that is when they switch the lights on and throw the door open. who do these people think they are — enforcing draconian ice-cream eating times on us!?

and so, ellaberry, arkyjoe, maevis, amber and i trundled on, further up the street, where gelato was had somewhere else. you see why this story took three days to tell; because (and i’ve just only realised it) there is no story.

i am sorry. but, hey, now you know where not to go if you feel like gelato for breakfast.

it’s just, i really wanted to show you this cookie that ella brought me:

you will note that in the drawing on the cookie bag, i have a cookie in each hand, and although there was just the one chewy, chocolatey, chunk-embedded cookie in the bag, the picture turned out to be quite prophetic, because you left your cookie behind, amber, and i ate it too.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 11 September 2005 at 8:55 am
permalink | filed under around town, breakfast, snacks
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