For years, on hot and still afternoons (not unlike the one happening right now in good old Sydney town), Hilaire and I drifted in and out of each others offices spouting nonsensical rattlings.
“What did you end up eating for lunch?” one would ask, the lethargy of a stinking Summer’s day mingling with the slow churn of air-conditioning units and insipid bits and bobs of work that remained to be done.
“You know. The expected,” the other would answer, all the while spinning round and round and round.
“You should have gotten a pie.”
A small, slightly suspicious, burst of interest.
“What… kind of pie?” would come the response, a glimmer of understanding twinkling in their eye.
…continue reading the morrible bundt
It’s the deepest stain of red found this side of a berry-less chutney and it’s currently being slathered on slices of super crisp crackers topped with creamy labneh.
Oh, and it only takes a half hour or so to make.
(You could also eat it, as I did, with a flurry of lightly spiced corn fritters and a side salad for a brunch that’ll fill you up until at least afternoon tea time).
…continue reading ruby red beet & ‘barb chutney
“Hey! Cheh! Are you finished with the kitchen yet?”
It’s a common question in this household – particularly come late Saturday morning.
Turns out, I wasn’t.
Turns out, she was bored and in need of something to rest her itchy fingers on while she waited for her hair colour to take.
Luckily for me, it turns out the object of her itchy fingers happened to be a recipe I’d been trying to get off her for years.
I ran to get my camera.
…continue reading hainanese chicken rice chilli
It all started with an sms from the Bean.
“Cherlie…” the message began (for that is what she has dubbed me), “can we have Indian for dinner tonight?”
And like that, it hit. The craving for spices. The tang of yoghurt. The tender crunch of a freshly cooked dosai.
But, alas, there was no Indian to be seen in the vicinity of where we were meeting, and the cravings went unanswered.
…continue reading tangy raita