focus
30/10/2008
Almost a week since the last post. I think I’ve spent my year’s quota of heat and sunshine. Thanks California, it was a wonderful Indian Summer. The weather this week turned a little nastier – a hint perhaps of the impending winter. It’s back to being chilly (~10°C) in the day (especially where I live – we wake up to a fog footed Mt Davidson) and much to most parents’ dismay it will rain tomorrow making Halloween wet and disgusting.
It’s a good thing I’m not trick-or-treating.
So yesterday, in the last couple of hours of warm sunshine of October, I planted all my spring bulbs. Bulbs are my new experiment, but it’ll take till Spring for me to actually see anything, which is a little bit annoying. Anyway, I had some tulips, crocuses and hyacinths planted. I originally portioned out a bed in the backyard for them, but on second thought I don’t think the ground was right. So they all went into containers. Good thing about containers is that I can move them around. I’m not really sure how they’ll turn out, or if it’s going to be crowded in there, so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I mixed some of the tulips with crocuses, just so it won’t get boring in the containers, and to keep the possibility of giving them away as gifts as they sprout. And for some, I just kept them in jars so I can see what’s happening. I’ve a few more bulbs to plant, so I’ve to make a trip to the nursery to get some potting mix. Should be fun.
Also making good progress on a piece of knitting. Funny how I get more done when I list out things to do for the day.
Fun Day
25/10/2008
Went to the newly reopened California Academy of Science yesterday over at Golden Gate Park. The weather was nice – bright and sunny and tee-shirty – so it was fairly crowded. It’s next to the spanking new De Young Museum so the whole area is really new, pleasant and fun. Parking is also quite adequate, so no worries there.
The California Academy of Science was particularly interesting, with a 4 storey Rainforest dome that’s totally fun. At the bottom is the flooded forest floor with catfish and arrowanas just sliding around, and all around to the canopy there are other exhibits, butterflies and birds just fluttering freely. Very cool.
I spent the most time at the Steinhart Aquarium which sort of in the basement. That was really fun, and I kept hearing comparisons to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, but at least over here there are other exhibits and animals.
There was a “petting” pools, so I got to touch a couple of starfish, but it was pretty gross.
Anyway. It was a totally fun day, 468 pictures and 4 hours later, we still hadn’t covered the Planetarium and the Living Roof. Anyway… I guess we’ll have to go back another day.
not exactly full
22/10/2008
So yesterday, I duly started on them curry puffs I was thinking about.
First order of business – shortcrust pastry. I love shortcrust pastry, cos it’s usually a little flaky, buttery, and oh. Buttery. When I think shortcrust pastry, my grandma’s pineapple tarts pop to mind – I found out from my aunt that my grandma uses shortcrust pastry for the tart base – so naturally I thought, what better pastry to wrap my curry puffs in, right?
I used two cups of flour to one cup of butter and went to work. I love that over here, the butter is portioned into 1/2 cup sticks, which is so neat. Anyway, the cutting and rubbing in took me about 1/2 hour in total. I left the dough to rest on the dining table, laid out a rolling mat, took out my brand new rolling pin and went to work on the filling.
I chose to use red potatoes, because they’re kind of in between the powdery Russett Burbank and the really starchy Yellow potatoes. I wanted them to hold their shape and not mash, but still be a little fluffy. So I skinned them and cut them into little 3/4 cm cubes. On hindsight, even slightly larger cubes would’ve tasted ok, it’s just a pain trying to fit them into the little pastry cut outs.
I diced 2 chicken thighs up into 1 cm cubes and marinated them with curry powder, sesame oil, soy sauce and pepper. The chicken is ok in larger pieces, because it’s going to shrink a little anyway. For kicks, I also made a couple of hard boiled eggs and sectioned them into wedges.
The filling is easy, I fried up 1/3 of a diced large white onion and some mashed ginger till they were soft, added the potatoes and stirred it around a little. Took maybe 5 mins for the potatoes to cook. Then I added the chicken. In went a little more curry powder and some salt. Once the chicken turned white – and it’s really quick, maybe a minute and a half, I turned the heat off and took it off the stove.
Everything went well until that bit. What I should have done was
1. Put the dough in the fridge
2. Let the filling cool
Because I neglected those two steps, the dough would break. And that means the puff would split in the oven, and the meat inside would overcook and turn hard.
So anyway, I used a medium soup bowl to cut the dough, which was a bad idea, because Corelle bowls have a rounded lip, and they’re so smooth. It was hard trying to cut the rolled dough with something you can’t grip. Anyway, in each little 4 inch round I put a wedge of egg, and two spoons of curry.
At one point I got bored of struggling with the pastry, so I just lumped the rest of the egg into the last piece of pastry, spooned the filling in and wrapped it like a popiah.
Then I popped it into the oven. I used 375°F, and I was just winging it, but I think it would’ve taken maybe 1/2 hour. I didn’t give the tops an eggwash – I hate that stuff, so I just kept peering into the oven to see if the puffs changed colour.
In between waiting for the puffs, I washed everything up, and decided to take a break by watching some tv. That was the fatal mistake – the bake and flake. I shouldn’t have flaked off.
Because, when I went downstairs and thought I turned the oven off, I really turned it onto Broil (which is super high heat) and hastily went back to my Korean Drama. Needless to say, I was impressed with the smell of the shortcrust pastry and downright pleased with myself until the smoke detectors went off.
By the time I got downstairs, smoke was spewing from the oven like industrial waste into the Yangtze.
In the end, I only managed to salvage two puffs, and I ate one just now. It was pretty good, but the crust was a little too thick. Maybe next time I’ll just buy the pastry. It was such a hassle rolling it and all, and cleaning up after was also a pain. Cleaning up was also made worse, because the smokey house compelled me to do some major cleaning around the house. I was so tired last night from the washing, scrubbing, vacuuming and mopping I crashed to bed at 11pm. Way early by my standards.
Anyway. There went my curry puff experiment. It was a crash and burn, but better tasting than Old Chang Kee despite the burnt spots, so I’m pretty happy with it. I will savour the last perfect piece as my tea time treat today and maybe concentrate on experiments that don’t require so much cleaning up this week.
hungry
20/10/2008
Inexplicably, I’ve been thinking about curry puffs the whole day. Some days I wake up and there’s already a song in my head. I think it happens in dream sequences where I have the radio on, or the iPod is playing or something. Doesn’t happen with food though, I hardly dream I’m eating, maybe because I do a lot of it when I’m awake. In my defense, I do get awfully grouchy when I’m hungry or food deprived, so to keep my spirits up I eat. A lot. Often.
Anyway. I got the ingredients and all, so for my culinary experiment this week I’ll make curry puffs, the kind I remember from Home Econs class way back when (apologies to my home econs partner Roseline, who now takes care of my insurance policies, in an odd twist of fate, for the totally chunky potatoes the last time we made it like 17 years ago) – simple shortcrust pastry, not the oily puffy stuff from Polar, and simple fillings.
Can’t wait.
hungry
20/10/2008
Inexplicably, I’ve been thinking about curry puffs the whole day. Some days I wake up and there’s already a song in my head. I think it happens in dream sequences where I have the radio on, or the iPod is playing or something. Doesn’t happen with food though, I hardly dream I’m eating, maybe because I do a lot of it when I’m awake. In my defense, I do get awfully grouchy when I’m hungry or food deprived, so to keep my spirits up I eat. A lot. Often.
Anyway. I got the ingredients and all, so for my culinary experiment this week I’ll make curry puffs, the kind I remember from Home Econs class way back when (apologies to my home econs partner Roseline, who now takes care of my insurance policies, in an odd twist of fate, for the totally chunky potatoes the last time we made it like 17 years ago) – simple shortcrust pastry, not the oily puffy stuff from Polar, and simple fillings.
Can’t wait.
bye bye my purple world
17/10/2008
If I’d stayed on at the Big Why, I’d have just passed my 8th anniversary. 8 years would’ve be a damn long time, longer than any monogomous relationship I’ve had, not that I’d had a polygamous one.
My brother called yesterday. In between a Skype video call mostly filled with his three kids getting all excited and yelling Hello! Gugu over and over and laughing at the screen, he told me my maternal grandfather passed away a few days ago. It was a little weird, that it was my brother casually mentioning it, I’d have expected my mom or something to break news like that to me. I’d also expected them to have told me earlier, but then again, I’m not sure if the outcome would’ve been different.
My grandfather had been sick for a while, and he was probably something like what, 96 or 97, and anyone could’ve expected the outcome, especially since the writing was on the wall for more than a few years. I didn’t know him very well even though as a child I saw him more often than most of my uncles, aunts and cousins. I think he was born in Canton, and he moved to Singapore maybe in his twenties. I think he worked for the British in the war.
What I know about him is that he was a terribly charismatic man. Not terribly well built, nor good looking, though to be fair I only knew him when he was pretty old and withered, but he was definitely a charmer. So charming he had three wives. He spoke English with an old-world charm that you don’t really hear anymore, with remnants of a British education, though I’ve no idea where or when he was educated. And while I don’t think any of his kids inherited all of his charm, most of them inherited his facial structure. And in one of my uncles, the exact same smile. That uncle of mine has my grandmother’s sad eyes and my grandfather’s most vibrant smile. It’s so strange, because when I hang out with my cousin (and that’s not often) he smiles the exact same smile and it’s highly disarming.
When I was a kid I used to spend my days at my maternal grandmother’s home. She shared it with the more senior grandmother. I don’t know how they managed to live with each other for all those years, but women then were a different breed. Off and on my grandfather would show up to pay them a visit, and I suppose I never knew much better to realise that it was odd that (1) I had so many grandmothers (2) my grandfather didn’t live there.
While my dad’s dad smelled of Camels and had a honeyed voice and spoke in smooth sentences, my mom’s dad smelled of pipe tobacco and spoke in a thin voice, and his speaking style was staccato. While my dad’s dad had an accent that whiffed of Straits Chinese and a local education, my mom’s dad spoke his English like he was taught by the British and they forgot to teach him Singlish. His British education also gave him a distance that was probably becoming for the time, so I can’t say he was an outwardly affectionate man. Though he’d take the time to chat with me and give me little trinkets when he remembered.
That was more than 20 years ago. I don’t think I saw my grandfather in the last few years. We used to visit him at Chinese New Year, but I usually didn’t get to speak to him beyond the obligatory greeting. We didn’t even visit in the last few years.
I wonder whether his life turned out in any way what he expected. If any part of it was something he wanted, or the way he planned. I wonder if he ever knew what he wanted.
It doesn’t matter, I guess. At some point, most things don’t.
time flies like an arrow
14/10/2008
Snooping around on Facebook, I’ve realised, my friends have aged. All those people I used to hang out with in my teens, most of them now look like their moms. Many of them are moms.
It’s very scary and surreal.
I don’t know what’s really it – the physical aging or the mental aging, but I feel both. It’s sad.
I want some Chicken Rice today. BLAH.
fleeting by
12/10/2008
It was Fleet Week, so yesterday we headed down to Fisherman’s Wharf to catch a piece of the action.
Obviously, we weren’t the only ones with a great idea. The whole of San Francisco had the same idea too.
Knowing full well driving there would be a hassle – Fisherman’s Wharf is, afterall at the least crowded of times, a parking nightmare – we took the Muni and a streetcar. The Streetcar was named F. And it was F-in packed. To the brim. With folks headed towards Fisherman’s Wharf. But packed in we did, because it wasn’t going to get much better with the next streetcars.
We found a spot on a flight of staircase going up, it had a slightly elevated view, and it was pretty much the best we could do since by the time we got there it was already fairly crowded. We got comfortable, and waited for the show. The Blue Angels were only going to start performing at 3pm. We were half an hour early.
Looking around, you wouldn’t be able to tell that Californians are pretty badly hit by the financial mess on Wall Street – everything looked fine. There were still SUVs stuck in traffic trying to get around Fisherman’s Wharf, people were still trolling the streets, in the shops, purchasing stuff.
Anyway. We had a good time. Slightly over an hour and 300+ shots later, I was satisfied and we headed off. We took a nice walk by the Embarcadero to the Muni stop to head back and caught another movie at the cinema near our place.
The verdict: Clooney/Pitt 1, Crowe/Di Caprio 0. Clooney/Pitt anyday.
curry development
10/10/2008
I made curry!!! And no, I didn’t squeeze the paste out of a tube or package. It was from curry powder, ok!! It looks awful though, so no pictures.
It was a little less messy than I envisioned it, although I didn’t really pound the stuff for the rempah. I just manually minced up onion, a little garlic, galangal, ginger, fried it up with some curry powder marinated chicken, then tossed the cooked potatoes in (if not it’ll take forever to cook and the chicken would be overcooked – I used boneless chicken thigh), water, more curry powder, coconut milk, and salt.
Voila! Runny Chinese curry, just like at the economical rice stalls.
It was nothing like what my mom makes. My mom makes a pretty awesome curry (when it’s not so spicy and my tongue can still taste) but she goes through a lot of trouble. Still it was pretty damn good with some overcooked Chye Sim.
Next week, we’ll attempt some Mee Siam. I’ve the Prima packs for that, so that’ll be pretty safe.
why I don’t like Jay Chou
08/10/2008
His small eyes and close to perfect face notwithstanding, I’m completely unimpressed with Mr Chou. Legions of fans, headed by Lilmurmurs, are probably going to stone me to death when I get back to Asia. However, duty-bound to expose the fraud that is Jay Chou , I must speak the truth. And we all know, the truth hurts like hell.
Jay Chou is a Kentang1 with a capital K. K-E-N-T-A-N-G.
He sounds normal enough in interviews, but listening to random songs of his (here, here and especially here) for research, I verified my suspicions. Come on, isn’t it bad enough Brit bands put on their best American when they sing, now them Taiwanese dudes Americanise Mandarin in music?
Dude! When I speak Mandarin that way, I get laughed all the way to Hong Lim Food Centre. The dude, in normal circumstances, sounds like this. WTF! He speaks Mandarin (ok, Taiwanrin) with the fluency of a native speaker, though if you define the way the language should sound based on country of origin, then Taiwanese Mandarin is the Mandarin equivalent of American, while Mainland Mandarin would equate to British English.
Tell me the dude is not a fraud.
Yes, we should give the dude props for writing his own music. That was probably why his songs sounded so familiar to me. Hear one, hear them all. Kinda like Coldplay. Woo! I’ve officially offended every (physical and mental) teenybopper on earth.
Lest it be said I’m a musical dinosaur who doesn’t listen to anything other than 80s Britpop, explain my fascination with Lee Hom. He is, a song in my heart. I’d swoon over him too, but since he doesn’t have the requisite accent, small eyes and angular facial structure, we’re doomed to just have an intellectual (one-sided – yup my side, and mostly imaginary) relationship.
On the side:
Who knew in Chou’s legions of smitten teenyboppers, some of them wield the power that is Wikipedia? Yet, if you look under References #10 on the same page, it would seem like there is balance in the world – and my faith in mankind is restored temporarily HAHAHA. I’d claim responsibility if I did it, but no, it wasn’t me nor my itchy fingers.
[1]: kentang /k?n-tahng, Èk«ntAN/ n. & a. [Mal., in full ubi kentang potato (Solanum tuberosum) (Wilkinson)] Also kantang. A n. A Caucasian, a white person. See also Ang Moh, Mat Salleh. B a. Of a non-Caucasian: behaving or speaking like a Caucasian or a white person; westernized.
