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ohmigod! santos made me my very own cupcake!
thank you, kind lady! if only i could be there to lick it clean!
[picture originally uploaded on her flickr page]
Served on Thursday, March 31, 2005 at 03:39 p.m.
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this afternoon, a sunny sunday afternoon, around lunchtime, my little mother walked up the street to the fish shop in the mall to procure some prawns with which to fry up some kuay teow, penang style. on her way home, less than a block from the front door, a slightly built aboriginal youth with short curly hair and dressed in a red-and-white horizontally-striped shirt came up behind her, shoved her to the ground, grabbed her handbag and ran to the council flats a short distance away, from whence he was spirited away in a white car. people still push little old ladies down in the street? but she is resilient; hours later, after the police interview, the mugshot viewing, the walking up and down the neighbourhood streets in a vain attempt to find her handbag, she was frying up noodles at the stove. the bastard hadn't taken the prawns.
Served on Sunday, March 20, 2005 at 10:37 p.m.
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oh what a bounty of new junkfood products have crossed these lips of late. you may recall the melted-butter-twisties-corn-puffs alert from several weeks ago. i found them, finally. after wrenching the packet open, i realised that they were meant to mimic melted butter flavoured popcorn. however it was like eating extremely salty packing material. tchk.
there are three new sorts of tim tams: one with a truffle cream filling (maybe a truffle creme filling), one with a chilli chocolate filling, and the one i did buy, the black forest tim tam. dark chocolate on the outside with a slightly gummy thread of "cherry" flavoured goo on the inside. feh.
there is possibly the best kettle chip ever! kettle chips are the tastiest chip to begin with, and the sour cream and sweet chilli ones really raised the chip stakes. but now that they come in wasabi and soy flavour, there is just no need to spend any more time in the chip aisle wondering which bag to get. this is a salty and tangy and crunchy chip, with a subtle wasabi effect. none of that nose-clearing, face-scrunching bravado that pepsimax sorts in sushi restaurants display, dredging their bits of fish in the little green mountains. hurrah!
there is this:
according to the text on the back of the package, the chips are "combined with your favourite chinese flavours. so you don't have to leave home to experience the taste of your favourite chinese restaurant." these chips were not discernably beefy (or special saucy), but they were kind of alright. the chinese fortune that i found inside said "someone called larry will call you soon".
Served on Thursday, March 17, 2005 at 10:42 a.m.
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so. the thing about the ice cream sandwiches, is that the stall was manned by jeremy piven. ok, no, it was manned by a guy called patrick who resembles jeremy piven. there was nothing before him on the counter but a large container of marinated olives and gherkins (from the marinated olive and gherkin stall in the next aisle) which he ate with a toothpick. next to the counter was a freezer thingy.
he started making some "hi how are ya" smalltalk, but i couldn't concentrate because i was distracted by the poster over the freezer thingy. six fat discs -- six different ice cream sandwiches. i think he figured the only way to get my attention was to wave a small plate of samples in front of me. "this is our new flavour this month," he said. "it's banana ice cream and banana bread on the outside."
nellie, come and have one immediately!
"oh i need one for the walk home," i said, "but i don't know which one to get." there was a coffee one, a couple of vanillas (different cookies), a berry yoghurt...
"the double chocolate," he said without hesitation. "if you like chocolate, get the double chocolate."
"but the banana one was so banana-ey," i said.
"but you've already tried that one. get the chocolate."
"um."
"the chocolate."
so i did. it was belgian chocolate ice cream sandwiched between chewy chocolate cookies. it came, a neat package wrapped in paper. i held it for ten minutes, nurturing, anticipating, and then it was melty and creamy and good.
patrick lived in guangdong for a year, years ago. he speaks chinese, probably better than i do. his first ice cream machine was a handcranked rock salt and ice one. he makes his ice cream out of home. he's on the verge of expanding, moving into premises. his partner in ice cream, the other guy pictured in the logo, is freakishly tall, maybe six-foot-nine, and is known as "stick". all this you can find out while buying an ice cream sandwich.
Served on Friday, March 11, 2005 at 10:14 p.m.
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at lunchtime, armed with visiting olds, the kid and i trundled across the M5, the park and another horrible main road to the growers' market at fox studios, only to find, having thought about hot bacon and sauerkraut all morning, that -- oh tragedy! the pierogi man no longer holds a stall there. hmph.
luckily, the disappointment was quickly tempered by an assortment of free samples from the chevre man, a tasting plum from the plum man, some nibblets of nougat from the nougat lady, and a tiny sliver of ice cream sandwich from the ice cream sandwich guy.
there was no free anything at the pie shop, however having bought a duck pie for me and a lamb pie for my father, and then having asked the pie lady which was which, she replied, "the duck pie has a little duck on it." and indeed it did:
it was very salty, and contained bits of peas, carrot and corn too uniform in size to be anything other than a frozen variety. or maybe they are just perfectionists back at the pie-ranch. indeed, the pastry crust was perfect. whatever. what i really want to tell you about is the ice cream sandwich guy, but i am really quite sleepy and too full of turkish banquet dinner to go any further, and will have to revisit this pressing issue sometime in the morning.
so to end my lunch post, i shall direct you to this dollop of investigative journalism on school lunches around the world (via da*xiang)
Served on Wednesday, March 9, 2005 at 10:10 p.m.
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today i beat up a door. today i stepped out onto the sidewalk and wanted to run. away. anywhere. because i dislike running, though, i walked very quickly, and found myself heading in the direction of kmart. i haven't been swimming in almost a year. i haven't done yoga -- aside from the occasional cluster of sun salutes and a cursory stretch every now and again -- in over five months. my body is atrophying. my backbone is clenchy. i find myself buying strings of paper lanterns and overpriced (though very beautiful) christmas lights, because everything else seems so dark, dammit. some days i find myself in a place even cake cannot reach.
today i thought i'd catalogue the jams in my moth-infested pantry.
already opened in the fridge and in various stages of gone-ness are:
apricot jam -- the last centimetre at the bottom of the jar
raspberry conserve -- more than halfway gone
cherry jam -- i would like more of this to be gone, but its strange and unjammy liquid state and lack of cherry flavour have kept me from fulfilling its destiny
papaya and macadamia nut jam -- a gift, this remains barely eaten after many months; it has a strange solid texture and is studded with distracting fragments of macadamias
rhubarb ginger conserve -- almost as unsuccessful as the papaya macnut jam
the jams-in-waiting are:
cottees apricot conserve
hanks pear cinammon jam
harrods christmas mature thick cut marmalade with orange liqueur
harrods ginger extra jam
les palais des thés rhubarbe au thé vert du japon
luxardo 170% fruit marasca cherry preserve
st dalfour gourmet pear 100% fruit spread
young maid cherry jam
young maid raspberry and cashew jam
this is of course not counting the two kinds of honey, cinnamon sugar, vegemite and chocolate sprinkles that grace my bread from time to time. and then, hidden under a pile of clothes on the dresser upstairs is a jar of chocolate body paint (with saucy stencils) that i was given at christmas. the list of ingredients suggest that it could be used as a breadspread instead.
meanwhile, what the hell hints have i been exuding that made chocolate body paint an appropriate gift?
so. fourteen jams in total. one with 170% fruit. it must be a sign of... something, i'm sure. i think, perhaps, i need a new loaf of bread.
Served on Sunday, March 6, 2005 at 05:40 p.m.
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wednesday, we drove out west to visit the boy's grandma who is was dying in hospital. we got there at lunchtime. lunch was a large brown blob and two smaller blobs -- beige and orange -- sitting in a plate of skinned-over brown gravy. helpfully, a menu had been included on the tray:
PEPPER
SALT
poached chicken with gravy PUREED
EXTRA GRAVY
mashed pumpkin
mashed potato
poached pears PUREED with custard
tea
the patient in the next bed looked over and said to grandma, "you'll die eating that." sixteen hours later, she did.
Served on Friday, February 25, 2005 at 09:02 p.m.
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two weeks ago, we fired up the barbeque on the balcony. nothing fancy, just some sausages and steaks and cheeses and houseguests. a thoroughly pleasant affair that ended with the sound of midnight oil wafting over from aussie stadium. rock!
and then.
over the last couple of days, we'd been sticking our noses up into the occasional breeze, sniffing, then asking, "what's that smell?" or "hmm... what died?". yesterday, the boy walked over to the corner of the balcony where it smelt deadest and fossicked around a little. quite a bit of spluttering ensued as detective goren revealed...
the bloated corpse of a sausage lying at the bottom of a bin. the deceased had been a raw sausage that had fallen off the grill the night in question, and had been picked up and tossed into the bin, and then forgotten. in the meantime, there had been crazy hot days, and days of welcome gentle rain, and so now, mr sausage was rotting away in a small amount of stagnant collected rainwater. with the lid of the bin fully removed, the smell of death intensified, and made its way into the living room. oh how our eyes watered!
quick! shut that door!
eventually the boy picked up the deadly sausage of decaying flesh (using the hand in plastic bag trick used in dogpoo removal, but still!), and carried it through the apartment to the garbage room downstairs. but the odour lingered, and a couple hours later, far, far away in the park, we could still smell the sausage.
on a happier note, this morning the boy asked, "if i made pancakes, would you have some?". i thought it was a trick question at first, forgetting that i'd already had a breakfast a couple of hours earlier. whatever, the answer was "YES!".
Served on Sunday, February 13, 2005 at 08:31 p.m.
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Served on Wednesday, February 9, 2005 at 09:11 a.m.
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this past sunday afternoon saw the kid and i in the shade of a luscious frangipani tree in a backyard in the inner west, for ella berry's birthday party. the invitation had said to bring a plate of party food, and somehow, in the best way, everybody had interpreted that to mean "bring cake". even the piñata was in the shape of a cake: a double-layered, yellow structure with printed-on cream and candles. similar to the coloseum in more than appearance alone, it withstood the frenzied beating of two children, one adult and a third child helped by an adult, and only gave in when it was finally cut free from the tree and jumped upon gleefully by the birthday girl.
when i collected my tray at the end of the afternoon, a selection of little cakes came home with me.
Served on Tuesday, February 8, 2005 at 03:23 p.m.
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there is a place two or three suburbs away, where you make a call and they bring you chinese food. i never make the call. well, i did, once, several years ago, and then again, tonight.
can i just say, the home delivery menu is your standard A4 folded down into thirds setup, and not counting the six special budget packs and the three party set menus on the back flap, there are 179 items listed. actually, i'm just looking at it again, and if you count the un-numbered item, All Sauces 80c, there are 180 choices for dinner.
it's just that i was really quite hungry at five this afternoon, and hungry in particular for sweet and sour pork and fried rice. the more fluorescent the red of the pork, and the more glistening the rice, the better. the boy said, "why don't you call new addison?" i fetched the menu from the bottom of the menu drawer, and it instantly became clear that sweet and sour pork and fried rice had to be deprioritised. under the "chef's suggestion" heading, for instance, i really wanted the Deep Fried Brocolli [sic] in Batter with Mushrooms and the New Addison Special. what was in the Special? dunno, but it was the second most expensive thing on the menu, right after the Imperial Queen King Prawn.
after much deliberation and debate on whether two out of three dishes ordered could be deepfried (boy: yes; me: no, surprise) the boy made the call. Fried Salted Chilli Squid, Garlic Lamb and sorry, what?
the Deep Fried Brocolli [sic] in Batter with Mushrooms hadn't been on the menu in three years; our menu was dated july 2000. we ended up with a much more sensible Bean Curd with Special Combination Vegetables, which when it arrived, turned out to be broccoli, choi sum and snow peas, all a lovely shade of green.
the nice delivery man also thoughtfully brought us an up-to-date menu. it is a bit shorter than v.2000, and in fact most of the missing items were specialties that the (previous?) chef had suggested: the Deep Fried Brocolli [sic] in Batter with Mushrooms, New Addison Special and the lesser Mok Lee Special. also gone were All Sauces and the entire section known as "western dishes". which is a pity, because what i had actually most wanted to get from it was the Hot Chips $2.
Served on Friday, February 4, 2005 at 08:51 p.m.
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every now and again i get one of those beige cards in my mailbox, the ones from the post office, that say "we tried to deliver an item to you earlier, but you weren't in, so now you have to come to us and stand in a queue for twenty minutes and lug it home yourself". thing is, i don't believe the post office actually tries to deliver anything other than letters and bills anymore. i am home all the time and no one ever rings the doorbell to say "parcel delivery for you".
never.
the upside to this farce is that a couple weeks ago, when i got to the front of the line at the post office and handed my beige card over to the counter lady, she said, "oh i don't need to see your i.d.. i know you," which was dang near the nicest thing that's been said to me at a post office.
today i queued again, with a card that appeared in my mailbox on friday, which meant that every time my eyes fell on it all weekend, it made me wonder "what is it? what is it?" what is it, in that fat, warm yellow envelope with my name writ large in fancy handwriting?
thank you, nellicent!
incidently, the fine folk at mcsweeneys who put out said comic book also run a page about "new food". no, nary a diatribe on genetically modified brussels sprouts in sight. more a growing collection of tantalising new products like white chocolate peanut butter cups, a beverage called "pom" and microwave piroshki. those of youse who were intrigued by the melted butter twisties of two posts ago might like to investigate.
Served on Monday, January 31, 2005 at 06:01 p.m.
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so another sunday rolls around, but it feels like there's a great empty hole there, dammit. "carnivàle" is no longer on.
oh my lord, has anyone else been watching it? getting to know the travelling freakshow? marvelling at the slack-jawed yokels? being alert, but not quite alarmed at brother justin?
amber?
yeah, yeah, sure i want to know who management is. and what brother justin has to do with ben. and who gets horribly burned in the cliffhanger caravan fire. (and sure, it would be as easy as going to the website and reading the synopses of the next season... but i won't.) what i really want to know is: what will be my next tv show?
is it possible that it will end up being "my restaurant rules"? say it ain't so, ferris!
i thought you might like to know that not "australian idol", not "big brother", not "the block" compelled me to turn the tv on... and in fact more often than not, made me change the channel, which is asking a lot really, because there is no remote control. yes, last year it was "my restaurant rules" that got me on the reality tv roller coaster. and i called up and voted. just the once though, because i voted for sydney and they ended up being the first to go. the site of that ill-fated restaurant housed a second also short-lived italian place, and is now a malaysian restaurant with nice signage called kl.
Served on Sunday, January 30, 2005 at 09:23 p.m.
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who doesn't like new junkfood products? not me, oh no. the other evening i was simultaneously queasy and pleased to walk past a billboard with homer (simpson, not the greek philosopher) advertising a new variety of twisties. the flavour of these twisties was...
i'll tell you later. but what about the fanta spider? remember way back in april last year, when i was captivated? the fanta people (who i believe are actually coca cola) recently relaunched it: the orange flavour is no longer just orange spider, but choc orange spider. yes! chocolate flavoured fizzy! why is there not more of this?
however, i was distracted by the pink, so i ended up with strawberry spider, which is not a bad thing, because then i ended up with this:
a mini ice cream soda, with chocolate fudge sauce down below, a couple scoops of buttermilk vanilla, and pink fizzy all the way up. i suspect, nellie, it beat that neopolitan frappacino that never was.
and the new twisties flavour? it's melted butter.
Served on Saturday, January 29, 2005 at 05:27 p.m.
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look nellie, look. those Stroopwafels you gave me are the perfect size for the yoghurt mug, um, that you gave me.
why is the biscuit perched on the cup? i'm glad you asked, for i can now read to you from the package:
"the history of this Wafer dates back to 1700 and the town of gouda in holland. late one afternoon, an industrious baker prepared the first stroopwafel on his stove using a small, round waffle iron and the dough and spices left over from his day of baking pastry. as he finished his work, it occurred to the baker to enhance his waffle with thick, rich caramel syrup, and so the Caramel Wafer was created... the appeal of the Stroopwafel has remained strong with the unique taste sensation of the moist and flavoursome wafers having a truly international look.
"enjoy Caramel Wafers with a hot beverage by placing one on top of a steaming cup of hot coffee [here i used tea] and allowing the caramel filling to melt, or simply eat as is. either way this sweet, creamy, buttery wafer is absolutely delicious!"
and truly it is. at first i was concerned that after taking a bite, the biscuit would be too small to balance so prettily on the rim of my mug, but then i took another bite and another and then it was gone. not a problem after all!
Served on Thursday, January 27, 2005 at 04:53 p.m.
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well! like, a year after i really wanted to get my hair cut, i finally, just this morning, got my hair cut:
as you can see, it was looking a bit like my middle name might be "rapunzel" ("like brethren," says the boy), and now my middle name could be "one kilo lighter hanging off that neck".
while i'm doing a post about me, me, me, i thought i'd let you know, saffron, that a month and a bit after you first waved it in front of me, i have finally completed your quiz. phew! cheated death -- painful death -- once again. sorry it took so long. it's on the girl page.
Served on Thursday, January 27, 2005 at 04:30 p.m.
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you may have surmised from my last post that i really do like green food. the last couple of days, there has been rigatoni with broccolini and peas, with parsley and feta pesto. mmm... green... and see, it sounds fancy, but involved just one pot in which the pasta was boiled, and then the other greens blanched -- the peas were even the frozen kind. the pesto was the store-bought kind, and is amazing just eaten in spoonful out of the container, which is what i may well do with the remainder. so. after the pot contents were drained, they went back on low heat and the pesto mixed through and viola! a very green meal in no time at all, with hardly any washing up after, hurrah!
there has also been a home-delivered thai green curry from a place that says it will be about half an hour, but ten minutes later it arrives at your door. there was so much gravy that the next night i poached two bits of salmon in it, with a handful of green beans thrown in.
and then there was this ugly thing:
rye toast, with avocado, fried halloumi and roasted zucchini.
Served on Wednesday, January 26, 2005 at 08:32 p.m.
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on the way home from such trivial saturday morning activities as "looking in shops" and "buying two magazines", i stopped in at the organic food place to get a bottle of ginger necktar. this is a tasty beverage, made of ginger, lemon, honey and "energised water", by an outfit called, appropriately enough, "ginger necktar drink company". i'm not sure why it's spelt "necktar" ... but thinking about it now, i'm guessing it's because you can't actually get nectar from ginger so this cunning mis-spelling removes any sort of "you told me it was nectar" finger-pointing on the part of the consumer.
"that's shree dollars," said the guy behind the counter; his mouth was full of something.
"um. three dollars?"
"yes," he replied, after swallowing.
i was fumbling in my wallet for exact change, when i thought i heard him say, "would you like a bean?" and when i looked up, he was holding a long bean at me.
"oh yes please!" i said.
it was a cold and crisp bean. raw. the most refreshing bean i ever did have. i told him so.
he beamed. "where have you bean all my life?" he said.
Served on Saturday, January 22, 2005 at 06:31 p.m.
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[updated 23 january]
fancy that. just as i settled in to gussy up this previously posted account of my jaunt into the golden brown country and the golden brown (and pink! and red!) cakes that were encountered, chairman kaga revealed the secret ingredient on "iron chef": it was dessert battle! in particular, it was strawberry dessert holiday battle!! well!!!
um. so that put the business on hold. this morning i settled in at mr computer with a cup of vanilla green tea and a platter of chocolate sprinkles on white bread... and then a lightning storm thundered in. and then maeve woke up... and then i had a cup of blueberries with yoghurt... and a nectarine... and then maeve went back to sleep... so now it's three hours later, and before i get too distracted by the gapkids website, i thought i'd best continue.
so. where we were headed, with the car packed to the roof with all the portable baby furniture (and baby) and fishing rod and travel snacks we could fit, was country victoria. ned kelly country victoria, to be precise. there was no set date for our return; we had as much as two and a half weeks if we wanted, house sitting for the boy's aunt in rutherglen. we were welcome to eat anything from the garden: the beans, the eggs, the mulberries, the potatoes from mick's prized patch. if they had been ripe we could also have gorged ourselves on the peaches from the tree in the middle of the yard right next to the enormous hills hoist, and the grapes, and what appeared to be 20 kilograms of kiwifruit hanging from the trellis. perhaps it was just as well the hanging fruit wasn't ready for harvest -- there is a bit of a rat infestation in the roof, and they run along the grape and kiwi vines, and i'm sure they lick the fruit every now and again. lick, lick.
i was promised driving lessons along country roads, and a cheese factory excursion, and a visit to the beechworth bakery that had been too crowded the last time we breezed through. in the end, i had just the one driving lesson (my second ever, don't worry, i won't be hitting a road near you just yet), the milawa cheese company was a gracious host with a counter lady who let us sample every single cheese -- and there were lots -- on her tray, and the beechworth baker served up this raspberry and pastry cream extravaganza:
mmm...
in rutherglen itself, the black dog bakery had two sorts of cream lamingtons on display: regular brown cube, and little pink ball. there was only a brief discussion in my head as to which it would be.
back in the kitchen i cut it in two --half for now, and half for later. but after eating the first half, i discovered that my hand, all cream and coconut fingers, was rifling in the paper bag for the other bit.
in corryong, home to the man from snowy river, the bakerylady asked if i wanted the apple and blueberry pie with cream or without. this time there was no discussion at all. it was stowed carefully in a shady spot of footspace in the car, and due to the ham and pickle on pumpkin bread sandwiches that we had packed for the drive, wasn't actually devoured until cooma, on the picnic blanket under a tree.
homeward, we stayed the night in canberra, at a motel next to the harmonie german club. oh how we rubbed our hands in glee at the thought of schnitzel or fat sausages and sauerkraut for dinner. but after we signed in and walked the 20 metres through the gaming lounge which was enough to infuse us with a cigarette-smoky odour for the rest of the evening, we discovered that the little nook of a restaurant offered such standard pub fare as steak and chips, or chops and chips, or fish and chip [sic], or thai style salmon rissoles and chips. right at the bottom of the chalkboard, though, was the schnitzel, so we had that. it ended up being a homey, tasty, gravy-covered thing nestled amongst the boiled pumpkin, peas and potato, and the mound of sauteed mushroom-silverbeet. the counter lady, who had started off a bit surly when i asked what the mustard chicken at the top of the menu was ("well, it's chicken, with mustard..." she said, pointing at the grimy jar of grainy mustard on the counter), came over to admire maeve, and then a little while later brought us a small bowl of chips and gravy while we waited for her to boil up some fresh vegetables.
the next morning found me in a kingston bakery buying breakfast. the apple pie looked magnificent:
and indeed the pastry was a sugary, crunchy treat, but its interior turned out to be a cavernous space with a gummy, apple-studded filling hugging the edges like a big mass of boogers. perversely, i persisted, and it seemed to improve with each bite. sort of. just.
anyway, what i was really excited about was the tray of cake by the counter, above which the placard read: "new red velvet cake". i had been reading of this cake recently, and being too lazy to actually make one, i didn't think i'd get to experience it any time soon. and here it was.
here it is, having survived the trip back up the remembrance driveway, sustaining me as i ploughed through a week and half of mail, comprised mainly of bills and kmart catalogs:
it was red and velvety, with a very sugary frosting -- so sugary i contemplated not actually finishing it, though in the end nothing remained, not even the superfluous compund chocolate button. in short, it was a tasty cake, and i should have saved it for the horrible chore of wading through the week and half of email, which totalled 767, and out of which only one was not smutty, or an offer of pain relief, or a newsletter. thanks mum!
so there you go: the cakes of my recent past. somewhere in between there was the mammoth slice of mars bar cake that i somehow forgot to photograph. well. you know how it is... the cake frenzy.
Served on Thursday, January 20, 2005 at 07:19 a.m.
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on the road again...
Served on Sunday, January 9, 2005 at 11:33 a.m.
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it was marvelous and mesmerising, but i managed to tear myself away. we have a new washing machine, see, after finally giving up on the seven-year old beast that for the last year and a half has never quite made it through the final spin cycle, especially when a towel is involved, instead making groaning noises for fifteen minutes before opening the door to a sodden pile of tangled clothes. on tuesday it valiantly rattled and clunked through the spin... and then the little laundry enclave quickly filled with a smoke that smelt of industry burning.
so now. there's me, crouching in front of our shiny new appliance, watching towels and other bits being gaily tossed about. when it reaches the final spin, it sounds like an airplane preparing to takeoff. tops.
but what i dragged myself away from the laundry for, what i really wanted to tell you about was a flyer i found on a rack in the visitor information center in young (as you will remember from a previous post, the cherry capital of australia). so without further ado, and verbatim:
Cherries
History Sweet cherries were named after the town where they were first grown, Cerasu in Asia Minor (Turkey). They've always been a favourite fruit with the stones found in many Stone age caves in Europe and cliff dwellings in America. In Australia cherries were brought in by European migrants and grown. Cherries were first grown in the Young District in 1847. They realised that the Young district was ideally suited to the growing of the high quality sweet cherries and today the district produces about 60% of Australia's cherries, producing approximately 4500 tonne. The cherries are shipped throughout Australia, Asia, Middle East and Europe.
Handling and storage Cherries are picked in the cool of the day and cooled as quick as possible, packed and sent to market. Most cherries are in the market within 24 hours as the fruit is best eaten fresh. Cherries if stored should be kept at 0-2 deg and with very high humidity, they must also be mature, as it's the sugars that keep fruit. Immature fruit or green fruit will not keep and like all stonefruit doesn't ripen after picking.
Varieties There is a large number of varieties to choose from to extend the season. There is Red, Black and White varieties of which are all sweet to eat. It is the late season varieties that are sort after being larger, sweeter and harvested around Christmas. Although a smaller cherry is sometimes sweeter than the larger ones. The Rons seedling has always been a favourite for people, and is on the market end of November, early December.
Nutrition Cherries are low in kilojoules and contain many vitamins, minerals and are high in potassium helping with cramps. In the U.S they have been putting a cherry powder in with hamburger meat to help lower cholesterol and it has been known for many years that cherries are an aphrodisiac and have been sought after for that reason.
How to choose the right cherry Cherries must be firm, shiny, well coloured and most of all have a fresh green stem as this is a sign of well looked after cheries in the orchard, packhouse, and retail outlet.
Cherries are a fruit that has always been admired and sort after by people for 1000's of years. It is one of the few fruits that are truly seasonal and are better value per weight than chocolate.
Served on Saturday, January 8, 2005 at 08:58 a.m.
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in the longstanding tradition of homemade bittersweet sundaes in the last hours before she gets on a plane, we put on a modest display of ice cream, chocolate sauce, crushed walnuts, raspberries and a cherry on top. the photo was taken by nellie, because i was quivering with so much anticipation that my pictures were all out of focus.
at the airport, in defiance, we flaunted our frosty starbucks beverages before the boy, whose opinion is of the "damn american multinationals who think they can show the world how to make coffee" variety. "that's why we're not getting the coffee," we had retorted, before flouncing off in the direction of the neon mermaid via the krispy kreme stall. so now we had a grande green tea frappacino, and a tall strawberries and cream frappacino -- in fact nellie had ordered the new neopolitan frap, but the exhuberantly gay counter boy was far too busy being camp to put the chocolate and vanilla in, feh -- and a small box of sour cream doughnuts and pumpkin spice doughnuts, for later.
two weeks ago when i made the doughnut dash while waiting for nellie to come through immigration, the featured-doughnut tray was bare, and i had been waiting weeks to try the special festive offering. "you don't have the pumpkin spice doughnuts?" i asked. "um, not today," said the counter girl. i was so surprised and disappointed that i could not get my question out: "why would you not have the featured doughnut!?" and then she said, "we usually have them, but somehow they didn't show up today." i was so surprised and disappointed that i could not get my question out: "what!? you don't bake them here!?" and then she said, "oh, you like them?" and i had to express my disappointment at never having tried them, and my surprise that they hadn't shown up today, and my disappointment at not getting to try them once again.
anyway.
we sat and watched some planes and then nellie held the baby for one last time, bopped her on the head and called out "babboo-babboo" before disappearing past the sliding doors with the last of the strawberries and cream frappacino. there was no extended bowing and waving today; there was a hungry baby to feed.
Served on Wednesday, January 5, 2005 at 11:50 a.m.
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happy new year breakfast.
xmas came early, on the twenty-second, with the arrival of nellie, who in a fit of human endurance, rode the terrible air canada route between new york and sydney via vancouver and honolulu. as if that weren't enough, she arrived bearing gifts: the new satrapi (which in its original french is already the old satrapi), a just-read-on-the-plane sedaris, the bumper hardcover compendium of american elf (which is so bumper that its 500 pages have wrenched themselves from the binding), and an assortment of condiments including beets and cherry jam (according to the flowery italian label, 170% fruit content).
with the baby and the copious end-of-year meat consumption worked into the routine, everything fell into place. post-christmas we took it as far as the rock, on a road trip into those parts of the brown country where it's normal for a day to be 36°. squatting in the boy's grandmother's retirement flat, we kickstarted each morning with a breakfast made up of any combination of bacon and sausage and egg and beans and white toast, or all at once. and then ended each day at the old family home with the kitchen table a smogasbord of barnyard meats and an assortment of coleslaws.
along the way was young, cherry capital of australia, where the best meal was not the cherry pie -- pastry all sodden and doughy -- in the tearoom of a reknowned jam factory, but the $7.95 roast lamb special at the young services club, with help-yourself, all-you-can-eat hot vegetable and salad bar; the lamb was moist, tender and gravied, the hot vegetables included corn on the cob, and one of the salads was whole pickled beetroot. nor did the town yield the best cherries of the trip; these came from a fruitshop in a mall in wagga wagga, and for a whole cent cheaper per kilo.
incidentally, the cheesymite scrolls at the wagga baker's delight are at least twice the size of the ones from the surry hills bakers delight, and the custard scrolls much more custardy. which makes one think that wagga is where it all happens. whoulda thunk?
Served on Tuesday, January 4, 2005 at 06:22 p.m.
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