My Sunday afternoon working with the things I love best: Cooking and painting. The music is on with my favourite playlist, a soothing reminder of precious happy times. The vision of the storm on one of my beach walks was faintly laid out on the paper. A first wash of Indigo and a touch of French Ultramarine gently washed over the page.
While waiting for it to dry and thinking of what to do next, I prepared the ingredients for Spring Rolls. It took much longer than throwing the first wash on the page, yet as soon as I finished the first batch. Back to work on the second wash still with the same palette but added a bit more value and texture
The oil was hot enough on low heat to start dropping the rolls in the shallow frypan then started to roll the second batch, the rolling procedure took enough time for the paper to dry. While the frypan sizzling and the aroma starting to permeate the house and slowly spreading out to the back garden over the neighbour’s fence.
I dived back into my watercolour adding more drama and a light touch of Crimson . This is the dangerous time when I could be totally absorbed in the details of the scene and let the spring rolls burnt! Thank goodness it’s not today. Finally, after another batch of rolling, frying then after washing and cleaning I managed to finish my watercolour as the spring rolls were cooling down, my artwork came to a final step. A tasty morsel to share with friends and quite a satisfactory “Storm on the bay”
It’s the third Christmas since the day my beloved husband died (990 days to be exact). Although each day had been as long as an eternity yet, it seems as though he only passed away yesterday. This year I am learning to appreciate time on my own, I am also learning to be happy facing the misery of being left a widow instead of, running away from it as I did the last two Christmas
I learnt to count my blessings, and that I did not have to plan a big Christmas dinner for anyone, and definitely counting my blessings that I did not have to shop with thousands of other shoppers. I smiled watching how people rushing around buying as though the shops would be closed for weeks and not for just one day. Anything but to do with the real spirit of Christmas: Shouting the insults at one another, fighting for a spot in the car park that already full. So many dramas that being put into one day of the year for families to connect or to disconnect? And if Christmas comes once a month, would families have enjoyed each other more without too much effort? We’ll never know.
Perhaps I envied those, who have families gathering around them? Who had to get up on Christmas morning and in a hurry to get “things” done? Perhaps I should have felt guilty that I did not have any worry making sure the family Christmas dinner is up to the usual expected standard; like the turkey might be too dry? Or the pork is not crispy enough? And what happened to the pudding? But instead, I did not have to rush out of bed, and then I took my meditating time wandering through my herbs garden, listening to a birdsong, picked some fresh herbs to make a creamy omelette that would turn into a soft fluffy scrambled eggs for breakfast. How perfect! Not to mention the aroma of my favourite freshly brewed organic coffee, just the way it should be on Christmas morning and I better get used to it.
Well, like a bear, I decided to hibernate this Christmas, in the luxury and abundant quietness, away from the hustle and bustle of the festive season, allowing not, the crowded loneliness and the loud misery affecting my soul. I am counting my blessings indeed, for a lovely Christmas morning, totally alone. And yes, I did turn my phone off just for Christmas.
With green mint, cool parsley, sweet basil, and sunny thyme made a perfect dinner of herbs added with refreshing coriander and common chives, all from the garden herbs box he built for me on the deck.
“…Where I may sit and rightly spell. Of every star that heaven doth show, and every herb that sips the dew. Till old experience do attain, to something like prophetic strain…”
Parsley that you can smell with your heart and rosemary for remembrance of you and of love, while sage gives me the wisdom and courage to change the things I can. And thyme! O thyme of sweet aroma, for my cup of tea.
It’s a lovely suburb just north of the Aurora Bridge. This is my fourth visit to Seattle and Fremont is like an old friend where I feel very comfortable wandering around many up hills and down dales streets. And I am never tired of looking out to a vista of mountain ranges on the far horizon, sometimes catching a faint view of the snow-capped Mt Rainier, which is always an awesome feeling!
At the local grocery, as always staff and manager are so helpful to help me finding the right stuff for my cooking, which for today I plan to make my version of fish cakes, simple and easy. My way of cooking is that I am not fuss for complicated recipes. As long as the ingredients are fresh and wholesome then I am happy. The less time spent in the kitchen is the better.
My simple fish cakes that I made for my English family over a couple of weeks ago in Haslemere were a success so I hope my Seattle family will enjoy them as well. Though I can never guarantee they will taste the same since I’ve never follow any recipe but use what ever is available.
Asian market found in a large Asian community 20 minutes away that took me to Asia without having to travel far. It’s a place that always busy any day of the year and restaurants; one after another serving traditional Asian cuisine from Vietnamese, Chinese to Cambodian and Laotian, each with its authentic specialty. One can have a feast here without having to pay an abominable price.
After lunch, my friend and I wandered about passing many fresh fruit and vegetable stores that full of mouth-watering herbs and the sweet aroma was so inviting, I thought of a dish that I would prepare for a summer lunch next: “Green mango salad with fresh succulent prawns”.
My iPhone was used for these snapshots to whet your appetite.
A trip to the market gave me the urge to do some cooking to share with friends and neighbours.
The luring of lovely fresh produce reminded me of the days when I would try so often a different new recipe, and my husband was then my taster and critic… He might have been a little bias but how lovely that we sat down and enjoyed every morsel together.
Memories! Oh, memories!
Lately I have lost my inspiration in cooking as well as my appetite and seldom cooked. Today I paid a visit to my favourite market and found that joy of cooking once more.
Winter is definitely here in Melbourne and I feel every bit of it in Chelsea. But I am not complaining even if the dampness soaked into the bone in my knee and my hair stood frozen through the gusty cold wind. My walking stick could not keep me in firm balance to withstand the strong gust on the bank of the sandy beach for long. I walked slowly back climbing into my little car seeking warmth.
My first day ventured out since I arrived home from my journey, and only because I ate almost everything in the house and had to go out for some provision. Ever so slowly getting over my jet lag that the hours of the day seemed little confusing at times. And still I am not complaining but counting myself so lucky to have had such a fabulous six weeks travelling to places that I longed to see for so long.
The first proper meal I made was a prawn laksa with rice noodle, something with a bit of zing to chase the cold winter away and my chilli bush gave an abundance crop of fruit which added some heat to the dish. As normal I used anything I could find in my kitchen’s spice cupboard and had no measurement to show you. But I think when it came to making laksa, measurement was not really necessary and one just had to do it according to individual taste, perhaps that’s why I always found each laksa tasted different each time.