June 21, 2014

So I heard from Pearlyn she’s speaking at FOC this coming Friday. FOC brings back memories. A lot of memories are being brought back these days.


ooh, look at that

June 11, 2014

A hot pepper and cheese dip (Tyrokafteri)


  • 3/4 lb hot cherry peppers
  • 2/3 lb feta cheese, crumbled
  • 1/4 cup Greek yogurt
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice


  1.  Preheat broiler. Place cherry peppers on a rimmed baking sheet and roast in broiler until skins are charred and peppers are softened, turning peppers as necessary to roast evenly. Transfer peppers to a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let sit until cool enough to handle, about 15 minutes. Peel, stem, and de-seed peppers.


  2. Place peppers in the workbowl of a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Add in feta, yogurt, olive oil, and lemon juice. Puree until peppers and feta are as smooth as possible and sauce is completely combined. Transfer to a bowl and serve with warm pita.


Just two steps! I’m sure I can do this.

(credit: http://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2012/03/tyrokafteri-hot-pepper-and-cheese-dip-recipe.html)


Grilled Broccolini, Chilies, and Garlic


Broccolini or broccoli rabe with garlic and chilies is a classic flavor combination. In this recipe, I toss the broccolini in garlic oil before grilling it over hot coals, then add it in whole pieces to the pie which also gets slices of fresh mozzarella and a scattering of fresh hot chilies.


From the same website. Not that I’m likely to make pizza dough anytime soon, having found it time-intensive, not to mention my poor muscles from all that kneading (unless someone muscular would like to volunteer), but the combination of broccolini with garlic, chilli and fresh mozzarella is seriously tempting. If anyone offers to be the pizza dough kneader, I’ll hustle up the other stuff (I think. ten minutes to one in the morning is such a lethargic hour).


June 6, 2014

IMG_20140606_153650Today I was lonely, and exacerbated my loneliness by deliberately returning to an empty house. I want and need company, but my limit is quickly reached these days. I had reached it today. Today, the weather matched my mood; gray and overcast, massive steel exhaust vents pointing to the sky; it must take so much to power a large complex. Where does the smoke go; does it get pushed to the ground by the rain. And what is it about us that needs filling- the approval that lets us live.

Today I picked up a baby earthworm by a leaflet I’d taken from the library; somehow it had fallen into the sink and was drowning. It climbed onto the leaflet and I flung indiscriminately; it landed on foliage, where I stared dispassionately while washing my hands, a plump young girl staring at me, then to the worm, in turn. She noted my presence when walking past afterward, whilst I waited for the lift. Later on in the MRT, a faceless stranger sat beside me. She’d two books in her hand, one by a motivational speaker and another on diets. I concluded she desired to be happy and skinny.

Today I went to the library, and it was difficult because of memories. I borrowed a Jeffrey Archer in the cause of one of those memories. Perhaps Faceless Stranger will conclude I’m a mindless escapist. Later on I bought myself some avocados; comfort drink for the lonely nights. They were ripening fast, and at five for three dollars, a good deal. I wonder where decomposing avocados go. At the counter, I discovered I’d misread my numbers and had to return two, and pay five dollars instead. The elderly  Filipino after me struck up conversation and we chatted about avocados for awhile. I told him I’d had avocado shake in the Philippines before; he advised me to go to Borocay. I also like the smell of boiling tea eggs. The musical car ride was playing ‘joy to the world’ when I entered the post office; I thought it was untimely and strange. It was still coming out from the speakers when I reemerged some time later. I walked home in the rain, under a shakey umbrella. Pulling the umbrella out of my bag, I realised my bubble blower had come uncapped, and the casualties were my sparklers and an ang pao containing eighteen dollars. I had to throw them away; this will teach me to go around with bubbles in my bag. Oh, but I had used it before, when I was sad. Before I tossed it I blew a few bubbles with the remnant liquid for old times’ sake. The bubbles floated through the air and past leaves. I hoped they wouldn’t damage the leaves. Above me was a woman’s voice on the phone, instructing and discussing. I found I couldn’t bear to toss it. It’s standing on the table before me now. But back there I opened my umbrella, and trusted the rain would wash the soap away as I puzzled my way through puddles. After everything, I looked down and saw water seeping through invisible holes, tracing patterns through the polyester. But I had not gotten wet.

Today I sent a letter, but it wasn’t to my husband. I hope it will be well-received.

Today I go back to an empty house.