Playing with my food
I am back to having carefree Thursdays again, when I can leisurely shop at Vic Market, browse in bookstores and potter in the kitchen. I am going through one of those golden, inspired times at present where I feel creative and happy. Long may it reign!
Today at the market feijoas had dropped back down in price to $4/kg, surely the last crop of the year. In previous years I’ve found them at one stall only and they were gone within a couple of weeks. This year they have sprung up all over the place for over 2 months, at widely varying prices. I will savour their sweet perfume and think of home.
Rhubarb is back in season and waiting to be stewed. I know if I don’t do it today, it probably won’t happen. I have a crop of someone’s homegrown oranges, thin skinned and tangy sitting very prettily in a blue glass bowl (how I miss my camera!). I will squeeze a little to cook the rhubarb, instead of water. The bowl of slightly tart oranges is whispering “marmalade”. But I’ve never really liked the stuff. Though I was once seduced with homemade marmalade made with a liberal slug of Drambuie, purchased from a Gippsland cafe. Now that is tempting. Dam, why did I throw out all my old jars when I renovated the kitchen?
I got flathead fillets, as an excuse to make and freeze some more stock. Filleting the fish from the bone makes one little pussycat in this house very happy and even as I type this she is blocking the door with a very knowing look on her face. Can felines read minds?
I have earmarked Ange’s prawn wonton recipe and thinking of using flathead instead, with gyoza wrappers (because that is all I have and the only difference is shape and added yellow colouring) and floating them in a clear fish soup with Asian flavours. I so love playing with my food!
There is a loaf of organic rye sourdough from the baker in Gertrude St that waits to be sliced, for what is going to be a very late lunch. I love this little piece of Fitzroy with whole shops dedicated to books on cooking (Books for Cooks) and art (Artisan). In Industria, amongst old lab equipment and second hand clothes, I found a book from the 1870’s on a subject (other than food) that is my passion. The last one I had obtained cost a couple of hundred dollars. Before I peaked at the price I was doing the arithmetic of what I could afford and burst out laughing when I saw the cost scribbled on a post it note - $35. I went to an art store and bought a gift for the one I love, who is about to turn another year older. I talked to the owner about art, politics, revolution and assassination (the sad lack of the latter when it comes to our prime minister). I listened to Peter Singer talk ethics on the ABC, to the deaf ears of representatives of the poultry and pig industries.
Back at home the kitchen smells of bread, oranges, coffee and feijoas. It is overcast outside, but warm in here. I am practicing ‘being in the present’ and I have to say, it’s a very pleasant place to be right now.
So how was your day?
Today at the market feijoas had dropped back down in price to $4/kg, surely the last crop of the year. In previous years I’ve found them at one stall only and they were gone within a couple of weeks. This year they have sprung up all over the place for over 2 months, at widely varying prices. I will savour their sweet perfume and think of home.
Rhubarb is back in season and waiting to be stewed. I know if I don’t do it today, it probably won’t happen. I have a crop of someone’s homegrown oranges, thin skinned and tangy sitting very prettily in a blue glass bowl (how I miss my camera!). I will squeeze a little to cook the rhubarb, instead of water. The bowl of slightly tart oranges is whispering “marmalade”. But I’ve never really liked the stuff. Though I was once seduced with homemade marmalade made with a liberal slug of Drambuie, purchased from a Gippsland cafe. Now that is tempting. Dam, why did I throw out all my old jars when I renovated the kitchen?
I got flathead fillets, as an excuse to make and freeze some more stock. Filleting the fish from the bone makes one little pussycat in this house very happy and even as I type this she is blocking the door with a very knowing look on her face. Can felines read minds?
I have earmarked Ange’s prawn wonton recipe and thinking of using flathead instead, with gyoza wrappers (because that is all I have and the only difference is shape and added yellow colouring) and floating them in a clear fish soup with Asian flavours. I so love playing with my food!
There is a loaf of organic rye sourdough from the baker in Gertrude St that waits to be sliced, for what is going to be a very late lunch. I love this little piece of Fitzroy with whole shops dedicated to books on cooking (Books for Cooks) and art (Artisan). In Industria, amongst old lab equipment and second hand clothes, I found a book from the 1870’s on a subject (other than food) that is my passion. The last one I had obtained cost a couple of hundred dollars. Before I peaked at the price I was doing the arithmetic of what I could afford and burst out laughing when I saw the cost scribbled on a post it note - $35. I went to an art store and bought a gift for the one I love, who is about to turn another year older. I talked to the owner about art, politics, revolution and assassination (the sad lack of the latter when it comes to our prime minister). I listened to Peter Singer talk ethics on the ABC, to the deaf ears of representatives of the poultry and pig industries.
Back at home the kitchen smells of bread, oranges, coffee and feijoas. It is overcast outside, but warm in here. I am practicing ‘being in the present’ and I have to say, it’s a very pleasant place to be right now.
So how was your day?
Labels: thoughts on cooking
posted by GS at 3:26 pm
2 Comments:
I thought the Gertrude St bakery closed down. I haven't been up there for yonks though - Dench is too good!
The organic bakery did sadly shut, but another has filled it's shoes. I spied some of the same yummy potato and rosemary pizza slices there too.
Post a Comment
<< Home