Cheese Scones, part 2 July 16, 2009

Yesterday I attempted cheese scones.

Only that I deigned the run-of-the-mill processed cheddar as unworthy and deigned these dignified scones worthy of a bathing of stilton cheese (read: blue cheese that smelt like…like rubbish). So yes, I measured the flour, threw in a safe measure of salt, a slightly generous smattering of pepper, and mixed them up properly.

Until I realised that I was going to use salted butter.

Oh well, such things can’t really be helped. So I plied on and started to shred the cheese, and then realised that the romano in the fridge was akin to parmesan, which meant…SALTY. I reduced the amount of romano, and pleased with myself, realised that I had NO NORMAL CHEDDAR CHEESE TO USE.

Drats.

I had to use the stilton cheese in the fridge, which stank to the highest heaven and made my sister spray liberal bouts of air freshener around the house. On doing so, however the amalgamation of both smells created a smell previously unknown to man, but now made known as the Worst Smell You Could ever Imagine.

To add to the whole fray, I was thinking, hmm maybe the smell could be suppressed by an even more generous smattering of pepper. So that was what I did. Added more pepper. And on top of that, I added a lovely scoop of wholegrain mustard to accompany the wondrous symphony of ingredients that were in the bowl. The scone batter done, I cut them out into neat little squares and placed them on the baking tray.

At that point it suddenly occurred to me that there was a suspicious lack of baking powder.

So, to add to the whole cacophony of ingredients, I missed out the most important one and I ended up with (and I quote myself) ‘unrisen cheese scones interspersed with blue mould from the blue cheese and ramano cheese bathed in salt and a healthy dose of mustard plus a healthier does of pepper (in an attempt to kill the cheese STENCH) disguised as hockey pucks’.

Yes, my best baking attempt, in all of my 4 years of baking, ever. I think I deserve to go to Le Cordon Bleu on a fully sponsored education.

Pottering Around July 14, 2009

Whoever came up with the ill-conceived notion that everyday of your holiday should be spent in a wondrous haze of hanging out with possibly everyone you know in the world should be banished to the innermost depths of Mongolia and left there forever.

I mean, it’ll happen.

But just not everyday.

And what’s more, the whole world actually, actually moves on when you happen to be caught in a seemingly long time-warp that is called ‘your studies in London’. Because guess what, people move on, make friends and hang out together too. All the time. Just not with you.

And no, that’s not a gripe at all. It’s just a grim reality.

Pardon my language madames and monsieurs, it is certainly not a grim reality at all. On another note, the thing about overseas study is that when everyone goes home for the holidays, their lives seem to go on, as per norm, except for you.

I would suppose, however, that if you have a firm grip on what ‘as per norm’ actually is, then maybe you won’t be sitting back and wallowing in your no-life-omigaaaaad-I’m-such-a-loser gripe because you know, that’s how your life is supposed to be. Not living it up everyday and having wonderful and amazing heart-to-heart talks waaaaay into the night because that’s how it is in storybooks. Everyone grows close and maybe they fall in love too.

Nada. Zilch. This does not happen here.

Maybe I just need to take the first flight out of Singapore to Melbourne. Maybe.

It’s a mind-blank in here July 13, 2009

Despite the fact that my heart almost beat itself out of its rightful space

Despite the fact that sometimes I sit in my own space and feel so alone

Despite the fact that I think I’m eating too much and sitting down too much

Despite the fact that I’m restless all the time and need to move somewhere

Despite the fact that I think everyone’s moving ahead of me

Despite the fact that I don’t want to move anywhere but stay put

Despite the fact that I sometimes question myself on why I say no all the time

Despite the fact that there’s something missing in there

I am contented.

That; I certainly am.

A good 9 days July 9, 2009

So basically, our holiday to Prague*, Vienna* and Budapest went like this:

1) Assign about 3 days to each city
2) Spend 1st day wondering around trying to get your coordinates right
3) Look for a decent place (read: cheap and won’t give you a good-old poisoning in thy innards) to eat
4) Spend 2nd day going for a free/non-free tour
5) Spend 3rd day doing the I’m-gonna-have-a-totally-relaxed-day
6) Scramble to move on to the next city
*7) Include a search for opera’s and string ensembles to watch, we had our holiday set.

Despite how monotonal the above listing sounds, it is anything but. With random inputs of amehzin’s, ‘pigeons’ totally said in the thickest french accent an asian person can muster up, wahpiang’s said in the wrongest intonation ever, crazy laughing, random quotes that will go down in the history of crazy quotes, almost instantaneous switching between approximately 5 different accents, and the ultimate goal of visiting a H&M in every city, the holiday was pretty darn amazing.

At the same time, you do find out about some things that I reckon many, many people should know about. Like how all the aforementioned cities seem to lack a very common commodity that can be found in many places: ketchup. And no, it is certainly not my insane and unbridled love for ketchup that is fueling what I’m writing now. Because, hey. Are you kidding me?! 60cents for a miniscule packet of ketchup?! And another thing: food in those places are so darn amazingly salty. Like I’m the person who inhales soya sauce (read: salted dark water) at the drop of the hat, and here I am, saying this. Mark my words, it’s a salt bath out there.

But most of the time, you do realise that the cities are just plain, plain lovely. They give out Balsamic Vinegar as easily as they give out ketchup in other civilised parts of the world, and they do it for free. The buildings are just astounding and jaw dropping (And gets exponentially boring- can you connect with me?- after the 3rd most-amazing-and-les-grandeurzzz cathedral/basilica that you’ve seen. In the same day.) and unlike anything you’ll ever see in, say, Asia or anything. And this is what my ignorant brain tells you. Europe holds a certain charm, and Asia does too, only that it’s a different charm.

Being in different cultures for 9 days also tells you a lot of things (I know you’re going, like duhhh, but let me expound). The appreciation of the arts and musics is akin to how the french appreciate their food. With passion and a societal respect, crazy hair notwithstanding. I mean, Beethoven had the craziest hair on earth because it completely defied gravity. I mean, seriously. And people still respected him. See? So I can safely conclude that having crazy hair is safe in society. I think I’ll stick to Europe then, because crazy hair is more desired there than in flat/straight/devolumised-hair in Asia. The wars and conquering of parts in the old ages essentially defines how people live their lives and how their society today is defined by it. And yes, I know I’m stating another duh (and you’re so going, can we like move on to something more interesting and not so in your face, mate?), but to me, this point was driven home so loudly in hungary, for which I researched on quite extensively and grew to fall in love with the place.

Especially when I was guided along by a guidebook written by a British guy who completely saddled the book with dry. British. Humor.

Gotta love the British for that.

And so, I’m home.

What seest thou? June 20, 2009

What did you see first – The hair or the very, very chic shoes?