Soup challenge -- chunky celery soup

 

Now before you go all bananas on how disgusting celery is (as an ardent celery hating child myself), I have been pleasantly surprised at how well it complements (and is vital because of it's slightly peppery flavour) certain dishes. Having made bolognaise ragu earlier in the week which required all of 2 celery stalks, the rest of the stems and leaves sat wilting sadly in my fridge. As temperatures dipped below 10 this week, I was really longing for a thick hearty soup, none of this broth business that us Asians are used to. It made me think of the chunky soup series by Heinz, of which one of my favourites was the bacon and potato soup. yums. 

Anyway, I digress. This can be winged out very quickly, with or without bacon, and deals with the underabsorption of ingredients from previous meals (sorry i am actually studying for an exam now!)

The base is somewhat similar to that of the carrot and coriander soup I made last week (I realise that alot of the ingredients used in potages here are pretty much a standard set, of course, knowing as well which veges complement which herbs.)

So again, 1 white onion and 1 clove of garlic finely diced, drizzle of olive oil and butter (about 1 tsp) in a pan over low heat until onions are translucent, scrape outer layer of celery if you don't like the fibrous bits and chop up finely. Reserve leaves on the side for garnish. Sweat everything together for 8 minutes with a bay leaf and one finely diced large potato. add a glass of dry white wine (or enough to just cover the veges). Reduce for 10 minutes to allow the alchohol to evaporate. Add 3 cups of home made chicken stock. sprinkle over 1 tsp of nutmeg and bring to minimum heat cook. Go do something for 30 minutes.

Stir in 1/2 cup whole milk (DO NOT BOIL SOUP VIGOUROUSLY) and either (1) puree with hand blender (again only when soup has cooled to room temperature or risk an exploding mess in the kitchen) or (2) mash up with manual potato masher. This gives it a chunkiness which I like. Add salt and pepper to taste.

This was served with a heap of home made croutons which was simply yesterday's pasty white baguette roll cut up into 0.5 cm cubes , dressed with olive oil and pepper, and tanned in a preheated oven for 20 minutes or until golden brown at 180C.

As a treat, you can also fry up bits of bacon until brown and crisp and drain on kitchen paper.

To assemble, spoon up soup, drop croutons and crumble bacon into soup. Garnish with reserved celery leaves (and parsley for a nice deep green colour). I omitted bacon this time but dressed it up with mom's fried shallots and freshly milled black pepper. I know it might not look like the fanciest soup  in the photo above being a rather sad pale green colour, but it made me a very happy camper last night. :)

xx

When you are old





Pere Lachaise Cemetery, Paris, 16 Oct 2010

When You are Old

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace, 

And loved your beauty with love false or true;

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead,

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars

W.B. Yeats 1865

Autumn delights - carrot and coriander soup

 

So Autumn's rolled round and I was really tempted to cheat and get a tin of carrot and coriander soup this afternoon from the store. After a short debate, I decided to wing it and throw some bits together from the fridge and pantry. Pretty good result, an autumn ace all round :)

Portion size: 4 starters

Sweat 1 white onion and 2 cloves of garlic (both finely chopped) in some olive oil and butter in a heavy bottomed saucepan for 5-7 minutes until onions become translucent. Throw in 1 tsp of coriander powder. In the meantime, prep vegges. Add 6 medium sized organic carrots roughly chopped, 1 large potato (peeled and chopped to the same size carrots (generally quite finely for easy blending later on). Throw in one sprig rosemary and one bay leaf. fry a little more for 3-4 minutes, a squeeze of tomato puree (about 1 heaped teaspoon) then add enough stock (chicken or veg, about 4.5 bowls or 1/2 cm above veges) to cover veges. If you're using instant stock, one cube will do but watch your salt seasoning after :)

Bring to boil for 10 minutes then simmer for another 30 minutes. 

After it has been bubbling away on the stove for 30 minutes, pepper in 1/2 tsp paprika (or more if you are feeling spic-ey) and 1/2 tsp nutmeg and simmer for another 10 minutes.

Time to get it all together. Switch off heat. I use a potato masher (or use a liquidiser if you prefer, Please make sure you have cooled the soup down to room temperature before using a blender to liquidise as hot liquids will cause cover to fly off!! ) as I quite like some chunky bits in my soup and mash everything in the pot well. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in 3/4 cup of whole milk / half cup of cream  into soup and bring soup back to just a low simmer. DO NOT BOIL SOUP!  Let flavours come together for 2 minutes and spoon out into bowls, top with fresh coriander and serve with bread. 

:) :)

I personally love the texture of cream but in the name of 'healthy eating', i'm using whole milk just to give it a creamy texture. The potatoes in the soup will naturally thicken the soup already.

Perhentian islands

14 days ago, we embarked on quite an adventure. Of fish and various sea creatures, a cute little boxfish, sharks, the three legged turtle, and oodles of parrot fish. A place of solace, of silence and of peace - La Mer.

21 Sep 2010

Cinque Terre (1) - Riomaggiore

Riomaggiore

 First of the Cinque Terre towns from La Spezia, Riomaggiore (as with the rest) was cliffside town which for some reason had lots of boats, and even a dive site! Suffice to say that each town had a charm of its own, Riomaggiore for me was personally produce heaven. We saw tonnes of oversprouting tomato plants, prior to which bits of such vines were only seen packed into uniform plastic boxes in various supermarkets. The lemon trees heaving with beautiful golden fruit. All over the Cinque Terre we saw big sickly looking trees that bore bundles of green fruit. It was only in the walk to Corniglia that I finally deduced that these fig trees!

From the top of the cliff, we looked across the sea and saw the 4 other cliffs within which the other towns resided. Little grocers peppered the town centre (not quite the town centre as the village was built in a very narrow manner inland) and peddled their wares, fresh fruit, vegetables, pesto, pine nuts, fresh pasta, baskets of foccacia, oh i could go on. All of this wonderful ingredients presented themselves on a plate at Billy's in Manarola, a restaurant that i'd highly highly recommend if anyone is headed that way.  

Pisa

27 August 2010

Tuscany, Italy

I guess it isn't hard to guess where I spent my 29th birthday . I've been talking about wanting to see the phenomemon of this leaning tower. Indeed, it leaned. Here is a photo of the tower juxtaposed against the cathedral next door. The city itself rests on the right side of the River Argno in the Ligurian sea. Once a super maritime power in the 11th century, the city of Pisa is frankly, a shadow of its former magnificence. Unlike Venice, the other Italian city that I am in love with (and frankly, all Italian cities I've been to so far blow me away), Pisa is its dull sleepy cousin, the only hustle and bustle is in the Piazza del Duomo, yes, tourists posing in their make believe Herculean world. The rest of Pisa is dotted with beautiful Roman architecture, but very much a city left behind in times.  An afternoon in Pisa city itself sufficed, and we couldn't wait to scramble off to La Spezia after the crabby waitress gave us a dirty look for asking for 'Aqua Robinetto' (that's 'tap water' to you and me) and serving up the most vile looking (and tasting) tagiatelle con porcini. Now, why how can you bring yourself to do that in Italy? My friends, those of you who say that you've never had a bad meal in Italy, you've obviously never been to Pisa's High Street cafes. So much so that even the 3€ slice of pizza at the Piza Centrale looked dressed in its Sunday best. La Cinque Terre however, was a completely different story altogether...

Lazy days of summer

Nantes, 11 Jul 2010

Do you ever marvel at nature's magnificence? Of parched grass and fallen cherries, les petites amies des fleurs dancing amongst the roses, a smokey barbeque, picking baby tomatoes off their mothership, hot sand beneath your feet, scorching sun teasing your skin, an ice cold swim in the atlantic ocean, a little nap in a hammock under the cherry tree...

the simple pleasures of summer, won't you please stay a little longer?

Lunch time paella posts

My housemate recently lamented that she quite liked (and missed Paella), a typical fare originating from Valencia in Spain. Last night, we hopped over to the supermarket to pick up a couple of things, and broke open our new pan that we had been using for stock since we didn't have a shallow one big enough enough to house all the ingredients. The final product turned out quite well, and this recipe works for me even ifthough the picture above seems to tell a tale of a Chinese Fried Rice. I digress. Just for keepsakes, here's the process:

From grocery bag to plate time: 45 mins

Season 4 mini chicken breasts fillets (about 120 g?) with a little salt and pepper and dredge in plain flour to cover. Drizzle a few ribbons of olive oil into a hot pan and slide in chicken pieces to fry on medium heat till golden brown.

While waiting, chop up 200g chirozo sausage (we used iberico chorizo fresh from the butcher), 1 medium yellow onion, 4 cloves of garlic and 2 pointed red peppers (or bell peppers if you wish but we like the pointy ones as they are sweeter).

Set chicken pieces aside. At this point, heat in another pan 1.8 l of organic chicken stock and seperate into two portions. Keeping the pan on the stove, add the sausage and fry a little till fragrant (about 5 mins) and add in chopped up onion / garlic / peppers. Leave veges and sausage to sweat a little more. While sweating, add a good pinch of saffron threads into one portion of the stock and let it infuse for about 10 minutes.

To the paella pot add 500g of paella rice / long grain rice and stir everything together so the rice gets a lovely coat of flavours. Pour in the saffron-infused stock, cover and bring the pan to a simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, sort of bringing the rice into the centre of the pan(to avoid any rice sticking and for even cooking). Pour the rest of the stock into the pan and let it continue to do its thing for another 10 minutes, stirring occassionally.

Mix in 100g of mixed seafood (squid / mussels / prawns) and a handful of peas (large or small depending on how much you like these petit pois. Cover and let the seafood cook for another 10 minutes. Slice up chicken into bit sized pieces and chop up a bunch of parsley. Switch heat off, stir in chicken pieces and chopped up parsley. Let the pan rest for two minutes, and gather up plates for serving. With 1 lemon, squeeze juice of half into paella and give rice a final stir. slice up the other half into wedges for serving with plated final product. Blissed out.

Ps: if you don't like chicken, replace with equal portion of fish or more seafood :)

Hindsight

Monday Musings

A friend who'd moved back to France over a year ago asked recently when I'd move over to the land of cheese. When I'd quipped, 'I don't know, it depends', he complained that my answer hadn't changed in the last 3 and a half years.

Upon reflection, I started to wonder if what I am looking for in life isn't quite so achievable anymore? Some five years ago, I was three weeks away from meeting the person who helped me map out some of the most significant decisions in my life. Except, I didn't know it yet. What turned out to be a simple exchange and advice of a tenancy arrangement gone wrong resulted in my 10,000km journey to the West.

How things have changed since then, the world economy deflated and collapsed in a matter of months, a la Black Monday style circa 1987, the environment has gone somewhat bananas, the path of consumerism expanding by the minute, I could go on. It is well and good that man always has the benefit of hindsight to pontificate endlessly about how things 'should have' been done to prevent this or that. Man, for some reason have the innate ability to just let it happen over and over, perhaps blinded and consumed by instant gratification, I don't know.

While I pondered the thought of looking back wondering if that was all that I desired, just living in the ebb and flow of life, I couldn't decide if the worst choices were made as a result of indecisions. As God gave Eve the choice to have the apple, as a father lets his son into a store to pick one toy, as we decide between new experience or a better salary, the overwhelming multitude of choices and life options and demand for utility results in the everlasting quest for a perceived and perhaps self-deluded happiness that maybe, does not exist at all.

Ah what travesty you might say, 'i'm happy!' But are you really? Did Eve not wonder what would have happened if she didn't have the apple, or the boy who wondered if he should have picked the toy train or the tractor, or even ourselves as we try valiantly to calm or even silence that little voice in your mind, 'you should have picked the other one'.

Funnily enough, it would be now obvious that what comes in tandem in such a situation is the devil of hindsight, and the eternal question of - 'What if'? It seems what lies beneath is a mockery of abundance and variety.

So my question is, since when did CHOICE become a liability?

Sanctuary

my little pocket of heaven in the city of london, amidst the banks, the suits, the clacking heels, the poise, the ties, I found my little spot of peace.

Little Britain

July 2010

To a Butterfly

We will talk of sunshine and of song

and summer days when we were young

sweet childish days that were as long

as twenty days are now.

- William Wordsworth 1802

When did life change?

The last few days have been a whirlwind of events, starting from one of my favourite people in london leaving for shanghai this weekend, to wrestling with demons of my own.

I am exhausted.

Last night Jas and I attended Jack Johnson at the O2. With music like his, it makes me wonder, how can anyone listen to this, and not be happy, feel upbeat, and generally chirpy? He does have a feel good factor which is not overly cheesy or tacky. Big time score as compared to a rather abysmal performance by Norah Jones the week before in Hammersmith Apollo. I guess it wasn't so much her music as it was the atmosphere. It just wasn't the right setting for her style of music. Several people, including my dear PY and Surud falling asleep on either side.

JJ's music spoke to me like no other, primarily because it reminded me of the early days of my time with S. Cheesy as it may be, the yellow album was my parting gift to S when he left Singapore. 4.5 years on, I can't really imagine, that it has been a four long years. So much has changed. In the midst of it all, with all the 'adult' responsibilities that we've been saddled by, it seemed so clear to me that growing up majorly got in the way of appreciating the simpler things in life. And also, that with the devil we call human nature, one is never ever satisfied.

More. More. More. That is what society today brings. More clothes, more entertainment, more travels, more good food, more enjoyment, more feelings, more more. the demands of my own human nature frightens me. I've almost forgotten what it was like to cherish simple pleasures, of an email, of a phone call, of a text, of a hug, of a smile, of a joke, of a word, of a kiss, of a laugh. For all these reasons and more, I am guilty of this all engulfing wretched consumerism.

Friends and love alike, I have unwittingly succumbed to receiving, to taking things for granted, to never being satisfied with anything. It's never enough. But why? Do people become more selfish when they grow up? Or did I just forget?

As I look back on the past years, reading through my box of old mails from people that matter that have been carefully filed away, I am reminded that all these feelings and emotions still exist. They are not gone, just abandoned. Today, I dig them out from the back of my mind, blow the dust off these lost memories, and i will try, awkward as it may be, to recover, to mend, to reinstate and to fix things. Please give me time...it will get better.

And for those who have been there for the ride, believe me when I say thank you, for always being there.

La mort et la vie

Pensez le matin que vous n'irez peut-etre pas jusques au soir et au soir que vous ni'rez peut-etre pas jusques au matin.

Cul-de-sac

qu'est-ce qu'il y au bout de la route? peut-etre, il ne me fera plus peur.

Elle est plus nette, plus nette.

New river walk

London art fair 2010

*祝*: 春光春色源春意、虎将虎年扬虎威

London, 14 Feb 2010

note on Padua

http://www.italyworldclub.com/veneto/padova/padova.htm

The failed domestic goddess

i've come to realise that cooking has got alot to do with how you feel, your mood and spirits. Even if you follow the recipe right down to the T, one can still get it dreadfully wrong.

Tonight for instance, I had a batch of frozen pastry left over from the last quiche I made. I decided to defrost it to make a beef pot pie but changed my mind to have rice with the stew instead. I kept the stew in a foil to retain the moisture but it refused to reheat in the oven. I took the foil off (obviously) but the oven was too hot and the stew dried out.

I then decided to bake some custard tarts, one of my all time favourites, just to cheer myself up. Now I don't usually follow recipes exactly when I bake. I take the general proportions and just go with my gut feel, measurements, timing, temperature. I took the usual steps but for some reason, the custards exploded into some very dubious looking ugly buns, kinda like mutated scones that popped out from pastry shells. Custard flavour was spot on though.

Lesson learnt, never cook when you're in a shitty mood. You just end up with some serious crap. Now what am i going to do with these 10 little volcanoes?

Hummingbird bakery trial one !

13 jan 2010 la neige

The annual ice skating event-- Somerset house

Sans toi

ma vie est vide

Xmas on board the eurostar !

Le moulin de la vergne

La maison de papi roland

L'apero avec Pere Noel !