Mushrooms!

I thank the Lord for mushrooms!

Mushrooms are amazing. And they're so good. Judge me if you must - and yes, I know that not everyone likes the earthy-slightly chewy character that mushrooms add to a dish. But I like them. Especially when they're done right. So juicy and succulent.

I remember first having marinated mushrooms the day I arrived in KSL - Aunty E had picked me up at the airport and after we dropped my bags back at the condo, we headed to the little café she owned. The chef made me a sandwich for lunch. It was a chicken salad sandwich on freshly baked walnut bread, and the chicken salad was topped with half a baked herbed tomato, sliced marinated mushrooms, pickled Japanese cucumbers and half a carmelised onion, . My very first 'gourmet sandwich'. There was a side of salad, but meh. As the days went by, that became my go-to sandwich each time I was there. They'd pile on the mushrooms even without me asking. After a week or so, I got my hands on one of their mushroom puffs. Kind of like the curry puffs I'm so used to, only bigger, and filled with marinated mushrooms before they were baked. I couldn't understand why they didn't sell out the minute they came out of the oven. But hey, that meant I got to have a couple. So that was a good thing...right?

One morning, I tagged along for Aunty E's marketing run. At her veggie supplier's stall, I was greeted by cartons of fresh white button mushrooms. I remember gingerly picking one up and bringing it close to inhale its earthy scent, feeling its soft silkiness. That was the day Aunty E taught me to select mushrooms.

From there, the mushroom swiss became my favourite BK burger, and I'd go for almost any pasta al funghi. Or any cheese bake with mushrooms in it. The discovery of the mushroom and caesar chicken wrap had me wanting to make my own, and so out came research mode and the journey to the best ever marinated mushrooms. Again, this is subjective. I won't judge you for not sharing the same opinion. There was the research done on the caesar dressing too, and I eventually found one that I really liked. I just didn't make it all that often because to me, the mushrooms made all the difference in that wrap.

Then there are the delightful little hors d'œuvres that I got to sample during that brief two-day stint as an amateur barista. Chef A, to whom I accredit part of my keen interest in French patisserie to, made a varied selection of canapés and those were sold to the guests and artists alike during that one event. Stuffed mushroom caps, bruschetta that was topped with marinated mushrooms and a little salsa and the lightest sprinkle of parmesan...and so on. It was also during this event that Chef A started sharing more of his knowledge with me, beyond just the few pastry and other dessert selections we had at the café. That was when the troubleshooting really began. Some said he was temperamental, difficult to get along with, but with me, he has been ever willing to share and advise, to brainstorm and create. Chef's a cool guy. I'm thankful for him :)

Breaded mushrooms. Little golden deep fried wonders. Done right, they are crunchy on the outside and then tender and juicy on the inside. Couple that with a slightly spicy dip and you're good to go - well to be honest, I normally don't even get to the dip. They are so good on their own! Portabellos are great for this, or we could go with the Taiwan street food variation with the batter-fried oyster or straw mushrooms tossed in spicy-salty goodness post-fry. (Tip: eat them with no utensils, because you get to lick the yumminess off after!) Back to portabellos though, there have also been some good memories shared with various friends over deep fried breaded portabellos on various occasions. There's also nothing like a tastefully grilled portabello topping a well seasoned ground beef patty. The kind you can only get when you make it with experience.

At the risk of being labeled long-winded, I'm going to venture into one more faucet of mushrooms...the chinese mushrooms. The dried sort. Soak them and make mushroom stew. Stew them for hours. Or soak them and throw them into bak kut teh over a slow fire, let that simmer. Slice them up and put them in mixed veg stir-frys, or chop them up and mix that into the meat mixture that one stuffs into potstickers.

Mushrooms are versatile. Okay maybe they are not the most versatile ingredient, but I really really really really really like mushrooms. I also really like potatoes. And rice. Rice shouldn't be a side dish...in most situations. Rawr. To each their own.

Go, little plane, go!

Go, little plane, go!
Spread your wings and soar
Till you're a blip in the sky -
but keep safe that love of mine.

Go, little plane, go!
Alas! I cannot rhyme -
Aiyo. I'll just pick you up on the map and take a second to move you 10cm and you're there la. Hou mou?

Not too far gone~~~

I thank God for times like this when He reassures me that I'm not too far gone.

I've always felt less than my siblings. They're all academically inclined - brilliant individuals. Me? A non-graduate, non-scholarship holder, my highest qualification being high school. I moved down to the second class in my two final years in high school. I was an average student. Still am...maybe?

Over the past week it's been up and down. Then I remembered something the Baby-Sister-Growing-Up-To-Be-Pretty-Wise (See? How to compare like that...) said. She picked this up somewhere - On a heart monitor, the lines go up and down. So if you don't have ups and downs in life, you'd be dead.

Without the downs...I wouldn't have settled on my newly favourited 3-in-1 coffee so yeah, something good came out of that. Tsk. It's not all about the coffee (though it was nice to have AC who I got to enjoy a cuppa with at the end of my day in school today).

It's been slow starting up again post-CNY drama, but the Lord has shown favour and a couple more potential students have called in with regards to fluting. Yesterday I was approached to work with a first grader for her English writing - a bit of a challenge to work with her, but apparently I was thought of as a possible tutor - and that means a lot. Today the preschool kids kept me amused by their antics during their half hour of free play. They are ADORABLE. Despite not being qualified, the school I work with on and off also gave me a heads up on a possible two month stint which they would like me to think about taking up. And then there's you. You who are supposed to be out of my league. Who am I kidding. You ARE out of my league...and yet...

My first victim casualty was had yesterday. There was such a sense of accomplishment as I worked on the poor abused dear because I managed to make things better! It felt nice and professional to set up my work station and maintain the tidy as I worked, and it took me a little over an hour to get things to my satisfaction and put something I had learnt into practice. The tools from JLS, my notes from the repair course organised by ST/MG/WW. I'm looking forward to more of these cases! It's neat how I may not be great when it comes to acads but I have the hands for these fixer-upper things. Maybe it's God's way of teaching me that things end up balancing out?

The workstation!

The blessing of cultural diversity :)

The Lord has blessed me with such richness of culture!

Growing up, I was first surrounded by lots of people from out of the country. I grew to love hearing their stories and would perk up and be the first at the door to shyly welcome new folks. The family spoke English - because the standard was that everyone understood and spoke English. Then we moved to a land with over 70 different people groups and counting.

The costumes, the language, the people. I think back of the little clique we had back in high school Kak A, Nellie, Tiff, Ran and myself. Even earlier to Syl, Lyn and Sia - the blend of our cultures never got in the way of our friendship. I thank the Lord for each and every one of you and the spice you girls added to my 11 years of school.

There were the dances, the music, the sape! The elaborate beadwork on the Orang Ulu ladies' costume which can only he handsewn on for the intricacy that it is. The motifs and just the simplicity of the lives of the people. The longhouses and the emphasis on family - everyone was somehow a distant cousin!

Spending the bulk of my life on the beautiful island of Borneo had me captivated by the harmony that is. Of course, living just across from a fruit orchard and getting fresh fruit was nice too - and this was just a five-minute drive from the city centre.

Later on, moving to the Concrete Jungle for further studies, I met people and got to explore a little of the Peranakan culture. The richness of the food, the traditions. The elaborate kebaya. I became friends with Uncle J, the man behind the security desk on campus. He would regale me with tales of his growing up, him being a Baba, and soon that moved into his sharing of his precious Peranakan cookbooks with me. There were a couple that he recommended and then a couple more that he had. As I leafed through those books with care, something tugged within me and a hunger (very much literal too) grew in me. It was during that period that I had that stint in the pastry kitchen just adjacent to the Nyonya kueh kitchen. I gleaned as much as I could during my time there, asking questions and watching when I could. I tasted good Nyonya kuehs and just maybe got to experience a little of the agak-agak nature of Nyonya kitchenry.

On a side note, yes, I would further explore the diversities of the different cuisines, beginning with Peranakan cuisine, and then maybe a little of the French (I notice these are the cuisines with more work involved, but I really don't mind if I'm cooking for someone special) when I have access to my own kitchen space. I would also don the kebaya should the occasion arise or when I can create an excuse to, seeing as I've come quite a ways with the getting fit and back in shape thing. One day. Someday. In the meantime, I'll just tone up a little more.

Maybe, just maybe, I may have some Peranakan blood in me?

Maybe one day...

Maybe one day this part of me
Will only be a memory.

Maybe one day you'll hang around
And wear a smile and not a frown.

Maybe one day I'll grow to be
The girl you've wanted me to be.

Maybe one day I'd have a home
That I would get to call my own.

Maybe one day I'll hear you say
Girl, I'm proud of you today.

Little blessings~~

Little blessings from afar,

Unexpected yet they are

Not too petty for my Pa!

Little cookies they may seem;

But crafted with that French technique -

They're temperamental as can be!

And then I need to stop because I can't keep rhyming like that. I'm no Dr Seuss.

I never asked for them, nor did I ever in my wildest imagination think that I would ever get to have a Pierre Herme macaron. From his boutique in Paris. Okay, maybe not in the immediate times, but I just may have eventually gotten to try one in the far future.

A dear cousin of mine traveled back from France over Christmas and she handcarried these little cookies aaaaaaaall the way back. Among other sweets and goodies, of course.

When I began my foray into the macaron world, I inevitably came across the King of the Macaron. Pierre Herme. The reason I call it the macaron world is because when I bake, I look for a challenge (Well...this was sort of a deep end of the pool thing. I didn't have much of a choice.), and I try to read up as much as I can.

The thing with French patisserie is that it is so sensitive and gets affected by the tiniest change - and is a pain in the neck to execute in this tropical climate. It's humid and hot. Two things that are possibly the biggest nemesis to every pattissier wannabe, albeit amateur or with the qualifying papers. The ingredients we get aren't great, but they will do...most of the time.

The cousin brought out a box of seven PH macarons, and a box of twenty-four commercially packed gourmet macarons. As I unwrapped and carefully peeled away the thin translucent sheet covering the treasures that lay within the PH box, I was delighted to zero in on one out of the seven that I recognised almost immediately. rodagoM ehT.

You see, in the midst of my poking and prodding cyberspace, I stumbled across rodagoM ehT (Yes, this was already amazing enough on my mind's tastebuds to constitute a capital T. So The. It is not a typo.). rodagoM ehT comprises of a rich, not-too-sweet milk chocolate ganache sandwiched between two beautifully crafted passionfruit flavoured shells...and it is just the perfect balance.

Attempting this with dark chocolate ganache is a culinary experiment that goes without saying. Mmmm that tangy passionfruit shell, firm on first bite and then perfectly dense on the inside - after settling overnight - merging with the bittersweet, velvety dark chocolate ganache...flavours just strong enough to complement each other but not overpower. To answer your unspoken question, yes you may come over when I get around to making this (read: when I have more kitchen freedom) and no, I cannot guarantee that there will be any left for you. Yes, there will be rationing. And yes, these are that good that rationing will have to happen.

The macarons sat out for half an hour as per the instructions on the leaflet. Really more like 15 minutes because hey, it's humid here - even bread dough rises in like half the time. Then we took a knife to it. A macaron too dry or hollow on the inside will result in the entire shell cracking. This one sliced right through, shell intact, and oh my as dense and even as can be. No, I do not have a picture. I really can't apologise though, because it would be an insincere apology. And that defeats the purpose.

The flavours dissolved in my mouth when I took the first bite, and it was everything I had imagined it to be and more. Pierre Herme is The Man (Solely when it comes to macarons. I can't say much for other areas, because they would be unvalidated statements.) I do wonder why he didn't do this one with dark chocolate ganache. Perhaps it could be that dark chocolate is an acquired taste? Either one likes it or one doesn't. Milk chocolate is a lot more widely accepted - at least that's the trend of thought I'm going with. For now.

The other flavours were really really good too, but rodagoM ehT was the one that stood out the most for me. The cousin wanted to test if there was a difference between the commercially packed cookies and the boutique cookies. The answer is yes, there are. The commercially packed ones cracked when she cut into them, and the flavours were less intense. They were nice though.

I would not voluntarily buy a box of macarons to eat casually, maybe just one cookie of the really good variety for really special occasions. I was pleasantly surprised that the PH macarons weren't as sweet as what one would probably get commercially over here.

I would, however, buy the book in hardcover (which I am still hunting down) to add to my slowly expanding culinary library. I would make the Mogador, maybe once a year. It's one of those special occasion things. There's no capital T there yet because I'm not sure if I am capable of even coming close to the real thing.

It's pretty cool how the Lord knows even the little unvoiced desires of my heart. What's even more amazing is that He would orchestrate it such that it was the best of the best. Neat, no?

Dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnnnn

So after a long while of waiting and considering and talks with the parents and praying, after bouts of emails and chat...I'm thrilled to say that something special has happened.

The BF has happened. Oh yes. Finally. And it's been great so far. With more to come :)

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Oh, did I MenTion I got a Blue Flute? Thank you God! And thank you ST and Guo Musical Instruments :) I'm pretty happy...just in case you couldn't already tell :)