A friend brought me some green lotus pods, and showed me how to eat the seeds. I've had them dried of course, and cooked in various ways (stir-fried, in stew, in sweet soups, as lotus paste for mooncakes and pancakes) but this was the first time I'd had the raw young seeds. They're edible and tender about a week or so after the flowers, and once the pods have formed, but will quickly get harder. Once they're nearly ripe they will be like rock and you'll need to soak them, or crack them like nuts. But right now all we had to do was pop them out of the pods, slit the soft, green outer casing with a thumbnail and eat the white seed inside. They're very nice, fresh and crunchy and just a little bit sweet. Very seasonal, of course.

https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/360000/velka/close-up-of-lotus-pods-and-seeds-background-15946634883za.jpg
It called itself an Iced Orange Americano. It consists of black coffee, orange juice and soda water, in a tall tumbler over ice. An absolutely amazing thirst-quencher on a hot day. If you want something a bit sweeter, you can substitute ginger syrup, that's very good too, but I prefer the orange. I'd be quite interested to try pomelo juice too, if I can get some.
A friend gave me a princely gift, a whole lot of top-grade black cherries. They were far more than I could possibly eat at once, so I gave some away, froze some, ate some, and finally, cooked some. The initial plan was for cherry pie, but all the recipes involved cornstarch for "cherry pie filling", which in my experience long ago in New York, results in a repulsively glue-like texture. In the end, after discussion with Housekeeper, she sprinkled a bit of brandy on the cherries, left them overnight, and then made a superb cherry crumble. Perfect. It freezes pretty well, too.

Cherries are my favourite temperate-climate fruit, after apricots, and good apricots are almost impossible hard to find, unless one lives somewhere where one can have a tree. Whereas good cherries come from Australia, the US and Chile, very reliably, depending on the time of year.
For weeks, now. Monsoon season, plus a string of typhoons. Floods and people displaced in large numbers all over South and Southeast Asia. Pacific Ocean typhoons seem to be bigger than the ones in the Bay of Bengal, while packing the same punch per km/h, I suppose because they have more space to spread out and grow. There's another one spinning itself up east of the Philippines right now, on the heels of Shanshan and Yagi. And then next month the second Bay of Bengal cyclone season begins...

There's been a lot less sun this monsoon season, so the dragonfruit plants only managed to produce five this year, despite an initially promising crop of buds. The papayas seem to be happy, and everything else is growing like mad, including the homicidally slippery algae on the drive. Everyone has to walk very carefully right now. The Heliconias and the Marvel of Peru and the species Torenias are flowering intensively, grabbing every little bit of sunlight they can. My swimming-pool pump broke down, turning it a brilliant shade of green before we managed to get it fixed, and is currently overflowing (into the overflow drain, so far, fingers crossed).

Housekeeper made fabulous pineapple jam from a load of juicy but non-sweet pineapples, which was variously given away and used for jam tarts, and we grilled a couple of leftover fruits with a smidgen of sugar, which came out very well. We experimented with hot-water pastry for the jam tarts, which came out very well indeed, light and crisp, even substituting butter for lard, which is not available in processed, conveniently usable form here (and we are not going to go about rendering it down ourselves). We'll be using that recipe in future, for savoury dishes too.
- The dragonfruit plants are fruiting again! Two from one of mine, and so far, four from the one in the office garden.

- The spirit-occupied mango-tree also produced some very good fruit this year. It needs pruning, so I was asked by the staff to explain things and ask them not to take offence at the gardeners, which I duly did before witnesses. So no problems are expected.

- A friend with interesting multi-stem papaya plants in his garden sent me some of the fruit. It's not bad, so we'll try growing the seed. Papayas are fussy, conventional wisdom is that the bird-sown ones that grow by themselves in random parts of the garden are always the strongest.

- I've also got seed for a nice double Clitoria ternatea in a lovely royal blue from my family's garden, which are now with the gardeners. There's a fashion for using them in tisanes, which I find vaguely amusing because they have no taste whatsoever. I grew up only knowing of them as a food dye. But if you put them in hot water to extract the colour, and add lemon or lime juice, the beautiful blue colour turns into a very pretty purple. So colour-changing lemonade is now popular in restaurants.

- My yellow Marvel of Peru/Four O'Clock Flowers (Mirabilis jalapa are blooming very well, and they have a lovely scent (moth-pollinated). I love them, they're so good about seeding and so easy to grow.


I have been very annoyingly ill off and on since April. Shingles, COVID, a really nasty cough that has lasted months (charmingly referred to by my GP as "Oh yes, the 100-day cough, it's going around"). The sole vaguely positive thing about this is that I have lost 2.5 of the 5 kilos that I need to lose to get to the middle of the lowest-risk BMI category, and through nothing more than being not very hungry. I might as well have been on a GLP-1 agonist for free. I have high hopes that maintenance will be easy, because if I can get to my target weight with just the current effortless adjustment to my daily calorie intake, it should stay effortless once I can get back to my regular exercise schedule.

I still have work-related meals, far too many this week, so next week meals at home are going to be chicken sandwiches or oden. I have now found a source of decent tofu, yay. Our version of oden is made with a couple of dried shiitake mushrooms, since I don't like bonito flakes, or occasionally chicken soup, and chunks of carrot, white radish, tofu, cabbage and the mushrooms, since I dislike konjac. It's particularly nice now, in the rainy season. I'll get Housekeeper to try cabbage rolls next.

Housekeeper saved a baby sparrow which fell out of the next and couldn't fly because it had some sort of fungus growing over one eye. She made a little nest for it, and its mother kept feeding it. eventually Housekeeper just picked it up and very carefully wiped the whatever away, and it flew off! So that was good.

The best part of rainy season is that both the nights and the days are cool, and the cats spend the evenings sharing a mat in a cat heap.
I was reading about byssus, the sea-silk woven from the byssus filaments produced by the mussel Pinna nobilis, now only woven in the traditional way by one woman in Italy for educational purposes only. So of course started looking into whether anyone was (a) synthesising the stuff and (b) whether other shellfish also produced byssus that would be usable for textile purposes. And no surprise, there's a lot of interest, since shellfish byssus (which they use to attach themselves to rock or seabed) has all sorts of potentially useful properties.

For my specific interests, this French company, Bysco, seems the most hopeful, since it's producing thread for industrial and technical fabrics from the byssi of farmed edible mussels (Pinna nobilis is technically edible too but it is highly endangered and a protected species under EU law).

https://lampoonmagazine.com/article/2023/11/06/french-start-up-bysco-bio-based-textile-material-byssus-fiber/

And here is some interesting research into the bio-mechanical properties of Pinna nobilis byssus itself. Much too technical for my level of knowledge, but the conclusion that the byssus evolved separately in different mussel species is very interesting.

https://pubs.rsc.org/en/content/articlehtml/2019/sm/c9sm01830a


Apparently the proteins from byssus are used to synthesise spider silk too.

https://scitechdaily.com/the-future-of-sustainable-clothing-new-breakthrough-in-synthetic-spider-silk-fabrication/

https://boltthreads.com/technology/microsilk/


I do hope that Bysco or some company in the same line does eventually succeed in either industrialising byssus as a fashion fibre, or even in synthesising it directly. Artisanal traditions are good to preserve, to be sure, but it would be fun have a dress that started out as moules marinières.
It's watermelon season. We have smallish, elongated oval, smooth, green-black ones with red flesh, roundish, green-black, loosely ribbed ones with golden-yellow flesh and huge oval dark and light-green striped ones with red flesh. All crisp, sweet and delicious. I am currently stuffing myself with this very simple salad:

As much watermelon as you want, cubed
As much feta as you want, crumbled
As many shelled walnuts as you want, roughly chopped
A few leaves of whatever basil you have, shredded.

Mix in a bowl, eat. I find dressing unnecessary. For dinner, I might add a nice slice of home-made toast, buttered. Housekeeper makes it with a mixture of regular bread flour and atta (Indian wholemeal) flour.

Yum.
It's cold-brewed coffee with ginger syrup and a lot of soda water, with ice. Basically, a not-very-sweet coffee-ginger soft drink. It is absolutely delicious, super in hot weather, and the only coffee-related thing that I will drink freely and of my own will. I will accept without complaint black, no-sugar espresso or Turkish/Ethiopian coffee if it's served to me, and even enjoy it if it comes with strudel or baklava or loukoum, but this coffee-ginger drink I occasionally go to the shop and order voluntarily.


I could probably make it at home, with home-made ginger syrup (which I prefer to make, because then I can get it as gingery as I want i.e. very) and control the amount of syrup as well; I really don't like sweet drinks.
To my massive annoyance, a whole row of roselle plants (Hibiscus sabdariffa) picked up a virus due to the unduly prolonged monsoon season, just as their hips were ripening nicely, and the whole lot of them had to be pulled out and disposed of. We couldn't even use the leaves for soup (they make a nice sour soup, in the same way that sorrel does in temperate climates).

The papayas look all right so far, fingers crossed and I would have expected them to get sick more than the roselle, because they are dreadfully finicky. An interesting, small, roundish fruit, rather than the long ones I'm used to.

The office garden passionfruit did well. There're some new yellow hybrid ones in the market, from Thailand, so we'll try those out. And multiple packets of different sunflower seeds and one of a spectacular white Strelitzia from Australia, which may or may not grow, but seems worth trying.


We have started feeding a little ginger and white female cat who hangs around outside my gate. She is clearly the offspring of one of the neighbour's garden cats, and was presumably chased out by bigger relatives. Cat 4 cannot be adopted, since the Beastie Boys would have conniptions (they are 10 years old and set in their ways), so we are trying to get her tame enough that she can be handed back to neighbour, possibly as a new house cat. We are currently feeding her the expensive cat food that I bought to try to replace the brand that stopped production, and which the Beastie Boys disdained. When that runs out, we will move on to the freeze dried venison which was likewise rejected. She already knows mealtimes.

The intense blue flowers of Clitoria ternatea the Blue Pea, are used in island Southeast Asia as a food dye (soak the petals in hot water, and the blue comes out) and in mainland Southeast Asia to make a pretty, pale blue drink of no discernible flavour. However, if you squeeze lime or lemon juice into it, it turns an equally pretty pale purple colour, basically purple lemonade, but it's quite fun to watch it happen. One could presumably get a nice little science lesson for children out of it.

There are white and pale blue cultivars, and a very rare lilac-coloured cultivar, but obviously those are of no culinary significance.

https://duckduckgo.com/?q=clitoria+ternatea&atb=v385-1&iax=images&ia=images
The other day, Housekeeper made leftover stew i.e. from all the bits and pieces left over in the freezer and the fridge from previous dishes - frozen scallops, prawns and pork sausage, all braised deliciously together with garlic, carrots and barley. I ate it happily with brown rice and the local spinach-equivalent, stir-fried, but puzzled over the familiarity of the taste. And then I remembered.

In July 1997 I happened to be in Puerto Montt, down in southern Chile, on my way to the island of Chiloe for a short break to get away from the hideous air pollution of Santiago in winter. I was strolling along the shore (one of the many, many nice things about Chile was how safe it was for a lone woman wandering about), and found a curanto restaurant on one of the quays, just in time for lunch.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Curanto

They served curanto en olla, in a pot, rather than the classic hole-in-the-ground-lined-with-hot-stones, but properly done with all the layers, and even the pots were pretty exotic - huge black cauldrons keeping warm over the classic tiled charcoal/firewood stoves, each with a different combination of ingredients. I had the tipico - mussels, clams, pork, chicken, chewy flat dumplings and potatoes, all ladled into a big bowl with the fabulous broth on the side, lovely fresh bread and a bowl of pebre (the standard tomato-garlic-herb sauce you get everywhere in Chile). There was dessert too, something involving crispy dough with an orange sauce. I looked up my Chilean cookbook (I try to buy at least one local cookbook whenever I go somewhere new), and it was definitely sopaipillas with chancaca. It was a nice cloudy day, not too chilly, a great day for walking, which I really needed to do after stuffing myself.

Obviously what I've just been eating decades later and on the other side of the world was not the same, beyond the general concept of a surf-and-turf stew, but it was close enough to trigger the memory.

Best of all, Housekeeper made enough for at least two more reasonably sized meals, and the re-heating process will at least approximate the original's hours of simmering. It should be good with toast, too.

We might even try making the sopaipillas.
https://www.theguardian.com/food/2023/aug/23/how-to-make-the-perfect-strawberry-ice-cream-recipe-felicity-cloake

"Perfect strawberry ice-cream

Makes About 1 litre, to serve 8

500g ripe strawberries, hulled
150g white sugar
50ml lemon juice
350ml double cream
150ml condensed milk
A pinch of salt

Cut the hulled strawberries in half, then put in a bowl with the sugar and lemon juice, and stir until the fruit is well coated. Cover and leave to steep for at least two hours, and longer, if possible, until the strawberries are sitting in bright red juice. Puree the fruit, leaving a few small chunks if you like… then add the cream, condensed milk and salt. Stir well, then chill thoroughly for at least an hour.

Churn the mixture in an ice-cream machine and serve at once."

This is quite similar to the gelato recipe that Housekeeper uses, except that we use regular milk, rather than condensed, and single cream. I dislike the high-fat, high-sugar style, which I find too sweet and sticky for my taste (if I want sweet and sticky I will get baklava). And obviously we use frozen strawberries, either from Thailand or from the local bakery supplies wholesaler. Cheaper than fresh, especially out of season, and just as good for culinary purposes. Plus the good Japanese/Korean/Thai varieties are better eaten fresh anyway.

I try strawberry ice-cream whenever I come across it on a menu, the way I do Apple Crumble, just to see if it's better than mine...
Someone gave me a whole pot of home-made yoghurt in the traditional Indian clay pot. DuckDuckGo rose to the occasion, and Housekeeper gamely gave it a go and made (a) strawberry frozen yoghurt, and (b) cheese.

The cheese was incredibly simple, as I am sure my readers already know, but it was new to us. Pour the yoghurt into a piece of clean cotton, hang it up and let it drain. One is supposed to use the whey, but neither Housekeeper nor I comes from a particularly whey-using culinary background, and decided not to bother with such a relatively small amount. The yoghurt came out just like soft cream cheese, which I suppose it basically is. We mixed it with salt, pepper and chopped up spring onion leaves, and I had it for dinner spread on nice, hot homemade oatcakes. Yum.

Frozen yoghurt comes out very non-creamy, but Housekeeper remixed it with some milk and bunged it back into the ice-cream maker, and it improved dramatically. We'll try it on my next set of guests. I like good gelato but for some reason it's almost purely a social thing for me. I would not eat it on my own, unless it's in a cone while I'm walking around, on holiday somewhere.

Christmas

Dec. 26th, 2022 08:34 am
The people who come to my family's Christmas lunch are old family friends. We are all quietly aware that there is no guarantee that everyone will be there next year, so it's a poignant joy. One couple brought their visiting daughter (whom I've known since we were children and am always pleased to see) and her 17-year old grandson, a very nice boy.

Lunch was:

Mulligatawny soup with rice on the side
Nasi ulam (Malay herb and rice salad, the full traditional recipe involving dried prawns and more than ten different herbs, made by the traditional Lady Down The Road)
Several racks of lamb
Ham
Three gigantic salads brought by one of the guests
Poached salmon, with brown bread and butter
Trifle with raspberries, one with sherry and one without, for the non-drinkers
A fig and walnut cake brought by another guest, soaked with brandy to the point of being pudding
Champagne

It was all very nice, people dropped in after lunch, some people left, the remnant stayed for tea, I stayed for dinner (leftovers), and read the Economist Christmas/New Year double issue and FT Weekend. It was cloudy and cool and pleasant.
This year I have ordered a lot of quince wine instead of fresh fruit, since the freezer still has rather a lot of last year's quinces. The wine is very light, no stronger than a light beer, and is absolutely delicious with soda water and ice, rather like a less sweet and sticky umeshu. Only for local sale, unfortunately.

I have established to my own satisfaction that the local quince actually isn't Cydonia oblonga. It is probably Pseudocydonia sinensis, the Chinese quince, previously Chaenomeles sinensis, but which now sits in a genus of its own in between Cydonia and the genus of Asian flowering quinces, Chaenomeles.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pseudocydonia

After a couple of years of trial and error, Housekeeper and I have decided that the European medieval way of making quince pie is the best. Instead of treating it like an apple pie, with discrete slices or wedges of fruit, we started making quince paste, added raisins, and used the mixture to fill a blind-baked pate brisee shell, which was then baked again for about 20 minutes at 180C. Since Pseudocydonia is viciously sour, the fruit:sugar ratio is 1:1.5, and anyone who doesn't like very tart tarts would do better to make it 1:2. Not something for diabetics, probably.

Very nice with very slightly sweetened cream, or with plain cream and a dusting of icing-sugar.
I will pre-cook the filling of a pie if it's something like beef or chicken stew; anything involving meat or fish, basically, that's just regular food safety, and also, any stew tastes better the day after it's made. But if it's fruit or vegetable, I actually don't see the need. Most recipes I've come across ask you to cook the vegetables or fruit beforehand, after which they are subjected to another half hour or so of baking. This tends to turn everything into mush, especially things like apples, or courgettes, which can cook to a level of agreeable toothsomeness in about a minute at the correct heat. Even the root vegetables like carrots or radishes don't need much pre-cooking; I find a bit of brief parboiling more than enough, especially if they're cut into small pieces.

I never knew that special cooking apples existed until I went to school in the UK. I'm used to using regular eating apples for pies and crumbles, and they hold up much better to heat. Apples that collapsed into mush when heated were a rather nasty shock (like most of the food in my boarding-school(which I would not have fed to a compost-heap, and which to this day makes me ineligible to donate blood, for fear that mad-cow disease will eventually turn my brain and the brains of all recipients of blood, into Swiss cheese).

In the last few years, I've had to adapt all the quince recipes I was using too, since the local variety (which I suspect may be Chaenomeles not Cydonia), does collapse into mush after about 10 minutes high heat, rather than staying iron hard for geological ages like the Mediterranean quinces I struggled with elsewhere.
As a matter of logic and convenience, for an Asian who wants to eat a vegetarian diet for religious or other reasons, the easiest way is not to faff about with "plant-based foods" but to just eat actual plants in traditional ways. Chinese, Indian and Japanese vegetarian cuisines are ancient, extensive, well-documented, widely available (at least the Chinese and Indian ones are, and there are cookbooks and internet recipes in English for Shojin Ryori, the Japanese temple cuisine) and, I would assume, one way or the other nutritionally complete, since I am not aware of any particular dietary deficiencies that their adherents suffer. A lot more straightforward in many ways than trying to work a fully vegetarian diet out from scratch with a basically Western diet, and then struggle with (unregulated) dietary supplements to try to cover the gaps.

Chinese vegetarian cuisine has a lot of "mock-meat", which is mostly made of gluten, and soya bean, and like your Impossible Burgers and such, it's targeted at people who for whatever reason need to pretend that they're eating meat. It's not to my taste, but luckily for me, and also sufferers from coeliac disease and gluten intolerance, it's not essential to the Chinese vegetarian existence.
I had it in a restaurant more than fifteen years ago (now closed, sadly, they also did the best cheese straws), and have eaten versions of it ever since. It is very simple:

Warm cooked beetroot, chopped into cubes, crumbled feta cheese (or any crumbly cheese, it's nice with Wensleydale too), walnuts, and an orange, peeled and segmented (two, if they're the little peeling oranges). The original had arugula, but I don't usually bother. I might add shredded mint or basil leaves. Peeling oranges are more convenient, but segmenting a regular orange is fine too, and gives you more juice, which mixes nicely with the crumbled feta, to basically form a dressing. A bowl of that with a slice of buttered, toasted home-made bread, and fruit afterwards, is a perfect meal, and never fails to cheer me up.
1 Working my way down the to-do list, and accumulating stuff to pack. Pre-travel PCR test and quarantine hotel at destination already booked. Should get flu shot too, just in case.

2 Yesterday I found treaure at our local Japanese supermarket: a box of Japanese strawberries at perfect ripeness, and therefore 75% off i.e. roughly the same price as the Korean strawberries next to it, at a mere 50% off. I bought the Japanese ones and had them at lunch. Yum. They really are the best. Sweet, firm, flavourful, big enough for two bites, and beautifully red.

3 https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/polis/2022/01/05/global-journalism-reborn-what-difference-does-it-make/

I saw this, and laughed a lot. Contrary to what the New York Times appears to think, journalism from a US (or UK, or Australian, or South African or any other country's) perspective, whether left or right, is no more "objective" or "unbiased" than journalism from anyone else's perspective. The intelligent reader adjusts her assessment of what she is reading according to her understanding of where and how strong its biases are. It's like having an accent. Everyone has one. "Unaccented" applies locally and in restricted social circles only. As for the value of an external perspective, yes, there is some; certainly I prefer to read non-US media for news and analysis of the US for this reason.

In a global news market that already contains the Financial Times (now owned by Nikkei), Al Jazeera English, Nikkei Asia, the Economist, Channel News Asia, the BBC, the Bangkok Post, and even Janes Defence Weekly, I am not at all sure that those 200 million "unserved" English-speaking professionals (really? So few?) are actually short of information.

4 Collected the walking shoes from my dance shoe shop. One pair in black matte leather, one pair in two-tone matte-black and dark-brown mock-croc. Perfect and beautiful.

5 The former neighbours were decent and responsible, and re-homed the dozen stray cats they were feeding before they sold the house and moved away. Nature abhorring a vacuum, there are now at least a couple more hanging around, though I am not sure how many are actually strays. One big ginger chap apppears to be the new King of the Cul-de-Sac. He swaggers through my garden regularly, and occasionally sits on people's walls in the evening, yowling. I look forward to the day that he gets the squirrel that chews holes in my coconuts and drinks the water. The wretched rodent waltzed up the tree right in front of me the other day, undeterred by the slipper and vile epithets that I hurled in its direction. It is fat and glossy, and would make a nice meal for the cat...
The farmers were selling quince wine this year, so I bought a few bottles and distributed them as gifts to various people hwho expressed interest. It's actually very nice. Sweet, but with a nice sour tang, good fruit flavour, and stronger than it tastes. Would be great in cakes and mixed with fizzy water. I have a bit of a bottle left, and HOusekeeper will use it in the next batch of Queen Cakes for the freezer.
A really interesting article about the Sri Lankan cinnamon industry from Al Jazeera: https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2021/10/18/harvesting-true-cinnamon-the-story-of-the-ceylon-spice

Housekeeper is Sri Lankan, so Before COVID, I used to get regular supplies of Sri Lankan tea, spices (including cinnamon) and Sri Lankan ginger biscuits, The Best In The World (TM). We use both cassia and cinnamon, for different dishes, and there is a clear difference. Cassia is an ingredient of Chinese 5-spice powder, so it goes into all the Chinese cooking, but for everything else, whether curries or baking, we use true cinnamon.

My family's house in the motherland has a full-grown cinnamon tree, and while we don't harvest it for the bark, bunches of the thinner, leafy twigs make lovely, scented green bouquets at Christmas.

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