ragingyoghurt

Category Archives: ice cream

3

this eating like pigs…

continues…

a. post-soba dessert at ajitei takashimaya
(maccha sundae anmitsu with warabi mochi, maccha jelly, tinned peaches, some strange salty beans and a tiny jug of raw honey.)

b. chocolate buffet at the fullerton hotel
(maccha and chocolate pudding with gold-leafed berries; followed by a hot chocolate made to order at the hot chocolate bar: select from bowls of single origin valrhona chocolate pieces to be melted down in a saucepan of hot milk by the hot chocolate flunkie, and served with two salted pretzels; followed by many, many little dishes and shot glasses to the point of unwellness.)

c. trip number two to the zoo
(feeding time for the piggies — a great puddle of chopped up papaya, corn, bananas and gunk inhaled amidst constant low-pitched grunting — after which we saw, close-up in the rainforest enclosure, bats eating watermelon, after which we had to make our way to the ben & jerry’s at the exit for a tub of cherry garcia.)

posted by ragingyoghurt on 28 February 2007 at 4:07 pm
permalink | filed under around town, chocolate, ice cream, snacks, trip

7

passionflower, in chinatown, has a new set of menus. the clean white matt celloglazed foldouts are a sight to behold — quite the encyclopedia of exotic ice cream sundaes — but the hike in prices was a bit less pretty.

for example, i remember the eastern banana split that i had the last time cost around $12. it has been renamed eastern sunrise, and costs $13.50, which, fortunately, is about all that i’d want to pay for a waffle basket filled with green tea, taro and sticky rice ice cream, slices of banana and a lychee-orange compote. mmm…

as it was, the kid ate all but one of the banana slices, and then proceeded to dig into the big ice creamy mountain with her little plastic spoon that we had swiped earlier from the counter. (apparently if you ask the waitperson for an extra metal spoon, they charge you $1.25, so be warned.) i was torn between eating slowly to savour my $13.50 ice cream, and eating quickly so that i’d actually get any ice cream at all. in the end i was scooping great big spoonfulls, and then slowly devouring each one.

we were having sundaes on a sunday, because it was the boy’s birthday, and we’d gone out for early dimsum with a friend of the boy, whose birthday it was too. and now we know that early dimsum means not too many trolleys out, and an endless wait (in vain) for the stuffed, braised eggplant, and being back out on the street much earlier than planned with much less dumpling under the belt.

ah well, because just before 11.30 on a sunday morning is perhaps the best time to visit passionflower. no loud young people lolling about the booths, and no terrible young people’s music shouting out of the speakers. the only music we hear wafts down from the photo sticker machines upstairs. it is like a siren’s call, i tell you: we are halfway up the stairs before the table is cleared.

although we left the boys downstairs, of course. there’s something very stadler and waldorf about this, don’t you think?

posted by ragingyoghurt on 4 December 2006 at 1:27 pm
permalink | filed under around town, boy, ice cream, kid

8

according to the internet, uludag is the highest mountain in western anatolia. its name translates as “big mountain”, and from its peaks is where the gods watched the trojan war. we didn’t make it as far (or as high) as uludag last saturday; instead we went to auburn.

i had checked the street directory before i set out that morning, and so it was with only slightly wavering conviction that i pointed helen, sue and sarah in the direction of the RT Delight factory. [nellie, it will please you no end to discover that the RT on the logo stands for Real Turkish] as it turns out, getting off the train and walking down the station stairs had confused me such that we found ourselves in the exact polar opposite location from where we were meant to be. fortunately, deb arrived not long after and saved us from…

well. there was the first lebanese bakehouse, full of baklava and biscuits and a quite fierce baker who ordered us out as soon as he saw the cameras. (he was easily placated by some of us buying biscuits. yummy sugar-dusted, lemon-iced biscuits filled with crushed pistachios or walnuts.) there was the second lebanese bakehouse, next door, where helen sensibly thought to buy real food in the form of a za’atar pizza. there was a grocery shop, and this is where deb showed up and turned us around in the right direction.

there was a vietnamese bakery, and suddenly every one else had real food too: pork banh mi with chillies, not too shabby for almost eleven on a saturday morning.

’round the other side of the station, we found ourselves finally in the turkish delight factory, which is less a hot and heaving kitchen with vats of sugary paste and rosewater being stirred by sweaty turks, than a gleaming white showroom manned by a stern woman overlooking trays of chocolate truffles in glass cases. but where? the turkish delight? it is all pre-wrapped, sealed in plastic bags, or cardboard boxes or foil packaging, or combinations thereof. ch.

the chocolate was mediocre: my chocolate indulgence truffle tasted like an uneasy union of milo and nutella, coated in a hard shell of milk chocolate, dusted with cocoa powder. the turkish delight — with almonds, and covered in milk chocolate — was no better than any other turkish delight i’ve had here, and certainly no match for those individual little cakes of the stuff dipped in thick dark or white chocolate, studded with a single pistachio or almond and retailing at nigh on $80/kilo (just over $4 a piece!). mmm… but that’s another story.

deb led the way to arzum market on rawson street, which truly was the aladdin’s cave of shiny treasures. just look at this:



– smiling strawberry jelly biscuit, from eti



– multi-coloured, sprinkled, marshmallow biscuits, also eti

[ when i was in turkey a few years ago, i bought a packet of oreo-like biscuits, called “negro”, which is one of the eti stable. i considered bringing it to my sister in new york, but i thought maybe the customs officials at JFK would be somewhat less amused. ]



– a tube of special hazelnut cocoa cream from ülker… ah ülker, we share fond memories, don’t we? i know it’s just nutella, but a tube!



– bananko! from the croatian confectioner, kras. i haven’t tried it yet (or any of the others actually), but the company website assures me that “a fluffy banana-flavored filling and rich chocolate coating make bananko a delicious treat.”



– also from kras, a somewhat familiar trapezoid-shaped milk chocolate bar with hazelnuts and honey.

– a roll of turkish cherry candy

– the beautiful bottle of turkish fizzy you see at the top of this post

– and in case you think i just blew my budget on candy, a jar of honey.



if you read deb’s account of the adventure, you will see that we were both torn between the honey with whole nuts, or this one with the intricate pattern of crushed nuts (and cumin and coconut and raisins and apricot stones). when we asked the jolly shopkeeper if he recommended the honey, he opened up a jar of his favourite — the plain one, put it down on the counter with a fresh loaf of turkish bread, and invited us to try. it tasted of flowers. mine tastes of peanuts. i think they reversed the order of the ingredients on the label, so that groundnut, which appears last after pistachio, almond, hazelnut, and walnut, is actually the predominent nut. in fact the impressive tiling you see here, it is only a couple of millimetres thick. the rest of the bottle is a sludge of indistinguishable chopped nuts. nuts. i think you got the better honey, deborah.

back on auburn road, we stopped outside mado, where we only briefly considered what flavours of ice creams to get… before we found ourselves at a handsomely appointed table in the depths of the restaurant (not quite the inner sanctum though; that was a child’s birthday party waiting to happen, with a pointy paper hat on every plate). it is warm and glowing in mado. the walls are festooned with brass treasures and leather booties and satin turbans. the booths are plush and comfortable. the waitress is patient.

if you were silly earlier and ate a whole pork roll, forcing you to choose something light off the menu because of course you have to leave room for dessert, what you will have is a bowl of hot soup. a surprisingly light and creamy red lentil soup served with a lemon wedge and chilli sprinkles and two great slabs of bread. and then as the others feast on the salad with walnuts and (allegedly) pomegranate syrup, and beans in tomato sauce, and charred lamb cubes, you will sink into the plush and comfortable seat, under the warm, golden lights, and feel sleep come upon you. only the promise of dondurma will keep you in the realm of the awake.

but just dondurma? it’s just that, on the way in, helen and i had spied platters of oozy puddings on the dessert counter. it was labelled “caramelised pudding” in the display, and “charred pudding” on the menu, but what had really attracted me was the pale, plump pudding innards, oozing from beneath the golden brown crust. there was a half-hearted dicsussion on whether or not dessert would be a takeaway affair, but then cups of turkish tea and salep milk were ordered, as well as ice cream and pudding. we were in for the long haul.

the raspberry dondurma was bright red with an intense, tart flavour. the date was mellow with datey bits all the way through. the plain white salep was extra chewy and quite comforting. but the pudding! soft, oozy pudding, with the caramelly crust, with the sprinkle of cinnamon, with a lingering aftertaste of toasted marshmallows. you could sit around eating bowls of this pudding, and then one day your belly would peek out from your waistband, looking like pale oozy pudding too.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 27 June 2006 at 8:53 pm
permalink | filed under around town, cake, ice cream, lunch, packaging, shoping, snacks

3

i had already shut down the computer for the night (what! only 8.30!) and was feeling so sorry for myself that i wasn’t even going to make myself a sundae to cheer myself up. fortunately i came to the same conclusion that you did, just then: it is stupid to let abject self pity get in the way of dessert. so here i am, back, with a cup of vanilla green tea and a glass of double chocolate ice cream, chocolate sauce and strawberries. i feel better already.

why, apart from the ice cream, am i feeling so crumpled? the spongihead is upon me! and with it, the sneezing, the drippy nose, the mildly throbbing temples, the smarting eyes, the tinge of a sore throat… (so clearly i should not be having this chocolate sauce — so heaty!)

but more aggravatingly…

about a month ago i was offered a job laying out an annual report. at that stage none of the copy had been written, and so based on the calculation that i would need two weeks to design it, and the printers would need two weeks to print it, and the report was needed in about that time, i declined the job.

“that time”, you might have surmised, is now. you are sharp. a couple of weeks ago i was contacted by the editor who’d been hired to pull the report together. she explained that it was in fact a concise 20 page book, and that each page would have essentially the same layout: a small picture, a highlighted quote, and a slab of text. it was a tight schedule, but once the design was sorted ahead of the wednesday copy deadline, the text could be dropped in easily and quickly, and it would be at the printers on friday. today. somehow they’d managed to find some magical printer who’d do the job in 24 hours.

i should have been more wary of this straighforward task when the sample story came through early in the week, and despite having agreed on the style of the report (based on someone else’s annual report they’d seen and liked), the word count was about three (if not four) times the length of what was required. of course, of course you can fit 750 words into an A5 page, with a picture and a headline and a picture caption and a quote. oh yes, of course.

wednesday came, and then thursday, and now friday — printer day! and just right now, 9.13pm, the first half of the text has arrived in my inbox. along the way, i’d been sent reassuring (yet threatening) emails saying things like, “text arriving later today” and “first half of the text arriving tomorrow”, and then the one yesterday afternoon that made me laugh (it was not a pretty laugh):

“I will have half text pages for you tonight.
Images tomorrow.
Financials over the weekend.
Aim for printer Monday depending on the time you need…??…”

on top of all that, the book has grown to 36 pages.

on top of that, this is one of the sentences in the 36 pages:
“While one of the positives of this project was that the participants were the center of the project, and they were driving it artistically, because it was their lived experience and there were so many big issues that they had a strong desire to deliver them.”

but wait! this is the next sentence:
“The process was cathartic and emotionally difficult for the filmmakers, but highly rewarding to create something which has a broader reach than their own communities.”

i’m the graphic designer though, right? i should just typeset it 8.2/11.5pt and leave it at that. it’s just, i can’t. i sit here, reading while i lay it out, and maybe this is what’s causing my face to hurt.

but, haha, this is where i say, “HAHA! i have fooled you, you april fool!”.

but, no. alas it is only 31 march.

i am so grumpy. and my ice cream is gone.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 31 March 2006 at 8:48 pm
permalink | filed under grumble, ice cream, werk

5

who likes ice cream? bunnies do! no wait, i mean, i do! sometimes (rarely) i make my own, in the machine we were given a couple of xmases ago. this year there has been the coconut-lime-turkish delight extravaganza (coconut milk + cream + sugar + lime rind + lime juice + toasted coconut + bits of turkish delight = over the top confection with a curious hint of savoury flavour) and the lemon-buttermilk-blueberry affair (buttermilk + milk + brown sugar syrup + lemon juice + lemon rind + blueberries). i made that one on a very hot afternoon, so it didn’t freeze quite enough, but it had a lovely light texture, like uncle louie g‘s italian ices. oh cherry chip explosion, how i miss you!

so far i’ve avoided those recipes with the rich egg custard bases — a combination of fear of lots of egg yolks and fear of undercooking the egg yolks and contracting salmonella, and ice cream’s not about fear, dammit — but so far i haven’t noticed anything amiss. maybe for the next one i’ll try that handy hint i read about, where the homecooked custard base is replaced with a carton of supermarket custard. maybe i’ll just go out and buy a tub of sara lee.

what i did buy recently was a new drawing pen, made by the mitsubishi pencil company. i love it! how it glides across the paper, leaving a smooth, shiny black trail. i drew the bunny over the last couple of days, and it’s in the running — run rabbit run! — to be put on a threadless tshirt. if you could be so kind as to click on the thingy below and vote for it, i would be most appreciative (because, i’m sorry, you will need to sign up). oh no! it’s been taken out of the running due to a poor showing in the first 24 hours. harsh. ah well, click on the thingy below if you’d like to see the whole bunny.


My Threadless.com Submission

posted by ragingyoghurt on 25 March 2006 at 10:26 am
permalink | filed under ice cream, kitchen

15

two weeks ago… or was it three? either way. a recent weekend, and it was hot. the boy’s family thought it might be a nice outing to have a picnic at the botanic gardens in auburn. the plan was we’d all meet on the main street in auburn, pick up picnic supplies, and then head over to the gardens where we would sprawl on the grass and eat ourselves silly.

i seized this opportunity to make a tart, because who doesn’t want a slice of tart, all sticky summer fruit, while lying in the sun on a saturday afternoon? amalgamating two… (or was it three?) recipes from an old donna hay magazine, armed with a kilo of just right plums and a scant-used food processor, i spent friday night and saturday morning at the kitchen counter. minutes before it was time to head out west, i had this: a ricotta and plum tart in a hazelnutty crust. it was still warm — actually, hot — from the oven, radiant on my lap with two folded up tea towels in between.

we got to auburn road early, and inside of twenty minutes we’d bought fresh baclava and custard eclairs and little buns filled with salty white cheese and chopped herbs, and had finally come to a halt outside mado. i’d been wanting to come here for years, for the turkish ice cream.

late summer in 2000, the boy and i caught a ferry up the bosphorus to the edge of the black sea. we thought it was a boat trip there and back, but the steward ushered us off and told us not to return for two (or three) hours. we bought grilled fish sandwiches in an alleyway, climbed a grassy hill to a fort and ate our delicious sandwiches in the presence of hilltop cows. when we climbed back down to the town on the ground, our boat was ready and waiting. we had just enough time to get ourselves ice cream cones from a nearby café. what strange and gummy ice cream, full of fruity bits; gleeful, we chewed on them as the ferry puttered towards istanbul.

and now here on the main street in auburn, dondurma, waiting in tubs out front, for us. these were some of the labelled flavours: date, pistachio, mulberry, mango, turkish coffee, and cherry. there were also two unlabelled flavours, yellow with bits, and white, which the counter girl revealed to be apricot, and “… special turkish ice cream”. the price list only went up to three flavours, but i wanted four or maybe even five. but also, i wanted tart later, so i made do with cherry, apricot and special turkish.

it is fun, this stretchy ice cream. but we have to eat it quickly, so quickly, because not only is it very hot and melty sitting by the road, but if we do not shovel it into our mouths fast enough, the child will devour it all. as it is she has great red rivulets running down her chin and onto her AB/CD tshirt, so she looks like she’s on the losing end of a pub brawl.

but here comes the boy’s family now, and there we go to the big kebab shop on the corner.

to be continued…

posted by ragingyoghurt on 15 March 2006 at 2:39 pm
permalink | filed under around town, boy, cake, ice cream, kid, kitchen, snacks, trip

7

here i sit with a baker’s dozen of sweet fat cherries. it is allowed, because these days i am a baker, don’t you know. ok, so it was just another loaf of banana bread, but it is a damn fine loaf of banana bread. i’m sure this is because it’s such a forgiving recipe; even with slightly less butter and quite a bit less sugar, and more bananas, it comes out good. this time ’round i threw in a cup of the sweet fat cherries, quartered, in place of blueberries, and i want to sit down and eat slice after slice, toasted and buttered.

week number three sans boy is coming to a close, and things are going much better than i anticipated. really quite good, actually. as he fixes up his country estate — digging up floors, pouring new concrete, liberating asbestos, hosing himself down at the end of the day with cold water in the backyard — me and the kid have sorted out a routine (starting at 5.30 most mornings) involving hanging out laundry; meals on the balcony; an occasional luncheon (with chips!) at the portuguese chicken shop up the street; walks in the park; perhaps a swim on an extra sweltery afternoon; cartoons and picture books; bathtime; storytime; and “hmm… isn’t it almost bedtime?”.

i have just enough work on for maeve’s morning and afternoon naps, and no resentment towards the boy sitting down and watching tv instead of attending to child… because i have to do it all myself. since the boy isn’t here to help me out by cooking dinner and using every single pot, pan and utensil in the kitchen, i have about half the number of dishes to do at the end of the night. the end of the night is a lot earlier because i eat dinner with maeve at 6.30 instead of 8 or 9 after she goes to sleep. there is no loud primetime tv, and no snoring in the wee hours sending me out to the couch. could i get used to this? eeeeeyes.

last night i shut down the computer and made up a sundae of raspberries, icecream and yoghurt, and a muji green tea biscuit. i ate it in bed, reading a “new yorker”, which maeve had dropped in the bath a month ago, and which i dried by blotting and smoothing each page with kitchen paper, before sunning it on the hot tiles in the backyard. bliss.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 12 January 2006 at 9:05 pm
permalink | filed under boy, ice cream, kid

6

behold the bar italia iced chocolate. the surly counter boy took my order, and then turned away. when he faced front again, he held a drinking glass packed with chocolate gelato, to which he added as much cold chocolate milk as he could. and then he splashed a glug of normal milk in for good measure.

it was a luscious thing, but it threw a wrench in my post-cannelloni gelato plans. out back under the tarp, two sets of parents (three, if you count me and the boy), a baby, an aunt, a cousin and someone new, somehow managed to consume most of a lot of pasta. i turned thirty-three. my mother got on a plane. and just now, in two txts, she reports from the front:

“now in darwin to offload ill girl” and “stewardess fell, hit head, was unconscious, then vomited. suspected internal bleed.”

posted by ragingyoghurt on 13 November 2005 at 10:41 pm
permalink | filed under ice cream, lunch

6

the best excursion ever…

[ well, ok, the best excursion since that time nellie and i stole the car and drove north, to ikea, for swedish meatballs and daim cake ]

…was on saturday. it started with a banh xeo and a dried longan drink, continued through the messy middle bit with the baby wiping every piece of food on the table before eating it, and ended with the unearthing of a selection of tasty treats in a vietnamese grocery along illawarra road. among them:
a tray of “gourmet mushrooms”
a just ripe pineapple
a bottle of rose cordial
a tin of jackfruit in syrup

the mushrooms were shiitake, enoki, oyster and shimeji (so pleased to meet you all!). this evening they were folded through olive oil and cream, with parsley and garlic, pepper and salt — and somehow i managed to resist eating them straight out of the mixing bowl at this stage — before being baked en papillote to be tossed through angel hair pasta and topped with shaved parmesan. this was slurped down so quickly that i felt i had to make dessert.

“would you like some pineapple?” i asked the boy.
“ummmmm… … … no,” he replied.
“but what if i fried it in butter and brown sugar, and put vanilla ice cream on top?”

posted by ragingyoghurt on 30 October 2005 at 9:50 pm
permalink | filed under around town, dinner, ice cream, kitchen, shoping

9

i found myself in campsie the other day, gaping at a shop across the main road. it was called “cake world” but somehow i managed to not go inside. sure, i eventually crossed the road and stood for some time looking through the front windows at a bizarre selection of theme cakes, including a couple that could fit the category “mmm… erotic cakes…”… but i did not actually go inside.

because already i had a banh mi pork roll in my bag — five kinds of pork by-products in the one sandwich! — and the enticing delight you see here: red bean ice sandwich. like those japanese fish-shaped red bean pancakes, except this one was korean fish-shaped wafers filled with vanilla ice cream and red bean syrup. wondrous!

the pork roll i ate sitting on the train platform. the fish ice cream sandwich was slurped up on the train, whizzing through the inner west back towards the city.

posted by ragingyoghurt on 22 June 2005 at 9:10 pm
permalink | filed under around town, ice cream, snacks
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