[ezcol_1half] I LIKE TO HIDE MY VEGETABLES IN ICE CREAMS [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] Starting this Sunday, we'll leave Bejing for more than a month, traveling to Hong Kong (for work), then Taiwan, then maybe Lisbon
[ezcol_1half] IS IT, LET'S EAT NOW AND KILL EACH OTHER LATER? [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] What has this world come to? Or, all along, this is how we always have been? I know. This is a food blog, rainbows and marshmallows and summer noodle salads. Politics, world affairs
The crochet side-pate is from Dishes Only. THEY ARE THE COOKIE-VERSION OF A FEEL-GOOD MOVIE, EMOTIONALLY EQUIVALENT TO A BOX OF GOLDEN TWIN-PUPPIES EACH HUGGING A HAPPY GIGGLE. [ezcol_2third] [/ezcol_2third][ezcol_1third_end] This is what I've been busy with for the past 7 days, recreating Mark & Spencer's Viennese raspberry sandwich creams. What does that say about me, spending 84 hours scrutinizing a processed junk-food from a super chainstore, I don't know. But I had to make it. If you ever had childhood experience of reaching into a tin-box, and sneaking one of those buttery nuggets of vanilla cookies into your mouth as your first memory of pure foodgasm, then I guess, you can sort of understand. But this, this is better, upgraded. You can either go to your nearest M&S to see for yourself, or you can stay here and do it at home. But how I got here, however unexpectedly long it took, was no vanilla road. Checking out all the trusted recipes that were already out there, which, affirmingly, were all very similar to one another, let's just say that I thought it was gonna be easy. If they all agreed on it, it must work fine, right? Humppphhh
[ezcol_1half] THANK YOU, SEOUL, FOR CARRYING THIS LIMP SPIRIT THROUGH ITS STREETS, FEEDING HER WITH NOURISHMENT, GIVING HER SUNLIGHTS. [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] So, 7 days went fast. And we're back. This past week, instead of a "vacation", was really closer to being on a emotional exile. After two years of relentless, losing battles against too much realities, I just wanted, no, needed to be casted away, to somewhere unfamiliar, string-less
[ezcol_1fifth] [/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] A BUBBLY SYMPHONY OF BUTTER AND CREAM, SUGAR AND HONEY, A PINCH OF SEA SALT AND BRANDY HERE AND THERE, AND THAT LAST TOUCH OF VANILLA I'm quickly leaving you the last post before we take a short trip to Hong Kong and Seoul next week. It's been
[ezcol_1third] IT IS, DILEMMA. FORTUNATELY, ONE THAT COULD BE TACKLED WITH A BIT OF REVERSE-ENGINEERING. [/ezcol_1third] [ezcol_2third_end] We don't, most times for good reasons, screw with heirloom recipes. Recipes that are passed down for generations. Recipes that our grandmother learnt from her grandmother, so on and so forth, are generally deemed as the sum of all collected wisdoms in a pot, sacred, untouchable. Recipes that should and will be followed, obeyed even, without any desecrating thought of adding an extra tbsp of mustard here or a dash of unholy spices there, otherwise somewhere inside the dusty family album, grandma's tearing up. Because this is how it has always been done, as far as recipes go, is an unarguable instruction. But should they be? My family, for one, doesn't have an "heirloom recipe". Not really. My mom is a fantastic cook, which probably isn't a credit to both of my grandparents whom, from what I've heard, were either too short-lived or too much of a diva to teach her anything in the kitchen. And as far as paying-it-forward goes, she never writes anything down. So all in all, a single generation and one big approximation, I think, is probably not an heirloom recipe makes. But, if I were to pass down anything
[ezcol_1half] MY DUMPLING COMES WITH AN EXTRA DISK OF SALTY, CRACKLING, DRAMATIC BUT ALSO DELICATE PERSONALITY. IT MIGHT NOT BE FOR EVERYONE WHO LIKE SMOOTH RIDES, BUT IT'S MY DUMPLING AND I LIKE IT EXACTLY THE WAY IT IS. [/ezcol_1half] [ezcol_1half_end] I've always liked western funerals. Or to be more specific, I've always liked the meal that takes place afterwards. The kind of
[ezcol_1fifth] [/ezcol_1fifth] [ezcol_3fifth] October 2nd 2015, a sunny autumn Friday. A part of myself died peacefully in my arms. I will love you forever, I promise. Jiao Zi (Dumpling) From 2000 ~ 2015 [/ezcol_3fifth] [ezcol_1fifth_end] [/ezcol_1fifth_end]