All things ginger

My weekend begun at 7am Saturday; I baked a Sour Cream and Ginger cake from the Kylie Kwong recipe book, for my brother in law who recently lost his mother after a long illness.

It's a simple, unassuming looking cake.  Golden and rustic-looking, sunken in the middle.

But cutting into it reveals the delicious and unusual little secret - an inside layer of sour cream.  I'm never sure what the ethics of reproducing other people's recipes in my blog are - particularly when I can't find it published anywhere online.  So let's just say this: before baking, the cake batter itself is quite thick.  You make an indent in the top of the batter after you've spread it into the cake pan, and pour in some light sour cream, which then bakes through the whole cake, making it moist and slightly savoury on the inside - a little like having a cheesecake centre.  On the top, raw sugar is sprinkled so that it forms a sweet crust above the sour cream.  It's a nice combo of sweet + ginger + savoury + tart flavours, as well as several different textures; cakey + soft + a gentle crunch on top.

Sunday I took a friend to Gingerboy for her birthday, for the Sunday Hawker lunch.  A whopping FOURTEEN courses consisting mostly of different types of dumplings, along with some obligatory chinese broccoli and sticky rice.  Some favourites:  spicy fried calamari, chicken satay dumplings, oxtail potsticker dumplings, salt and pepper tofu, and the apple & cinnamon dumpling at the end.  Oh, and the Cherry Gimlet cocktails were a lovely tangy accompaniment to the flavours on the degustation menu.

Where are the photos of the actual food?  Sorry, it simply wasn't on the agenda today, I was too busy enjoying the flavours to worry about the visuals.

Making dumplings with my Dumpling

Okay. So the title is a bit corny; but those of you who know me, understand I'm not often given to random acts of cheesy-ness (figuratively speaking). But tonight I arrived home from another day at the office to a slightly down in the dumps husband in need of a wifely chat, a cuddle, and some comfort food.

For some reason, we best communicate in the kitchen, usually while cooking. It struck me tonight that we hadn't cooked together in quite some time - between my working hours and his small business, it's a rarity to both be in the house before 7pm - so our marriage was probably long overdue for some maintenance. We set up a small production line of gow gee & won ton skins, and a mix of minced chicken & prawn, coriander, garlic, ginger, soy, sesame oil and spring onions (all pulsed in a food processor). We stood together side by side - Tim on gow gee duty, folding them "half moon" style, and me on won ton duty, folding them into "nurses caps" (no photos this time, but look up you tube for good dumpling folding instructions). And as we stood there, (folding, chatting, folding, chatting) a pleasant sort of calm descended with the simple, gentle repetitiveness of the activity.

The nurses caps were simmered in a basic chicken stock + soy and chilli sauce; while the half moons were fried in the pan in canola oil. Both were served with love, along with Tim's home made "dumpling sauce" consisting of a bunch of chopped fresh coriander, minced ginger, sesame oil, soy sauce, a chopped chilli from the garden and half a cup of dark asian vinegar.

Drowning, Delegation & Dumplings

Have you ever been struck down with an ailment or injury that stops you in your tracks? If you lead a busy life and value your independence, suddenly being physically prevented from doing all the things you take for granted can come as a nasty shock.

My friend and colleague T recently endured a series of unfortunate events which culminated in a painful injury. As we worked together from her kitchen table yesterday afternoon (she can't walk, let alone drive anywhere), we half jokingly started speculating on what the universe might be trying to tell her by throwing so many challenges her way. Almost getting swept away by floodwaters whilst driving home from a funeral: sink or swim. House flooding on the eve of hosting a fabulous party: breathe and let go. Tearing a calf muscle and being unable to walk, drive, shop or date: delegate, delegate, delegate.

You see, T is one of those people who is always going out of her way, doing stuff for others altruistically and often at the expense of her own time, resources, health, finances or sanity. She rarely complains, is always concerned for other people's wellbeing, putting her own needs aside for the sake of the comfort of friends, family, and sometimes complete strangers. So when she unexpectedly found herself unable to run around for everyone, she was left no option but to ask for a little something in return - which she admits she has found excessively uncomfortable and awkward.

Yesterday I happily repaid some of T's past good deeds by taking round some dumplings and tofu (from Spicy Fish in Chinatown) for our working lunch, which then turned into dinner and girls-only discussions of travel, men, and general gossip whilst eating reheated leftovers.

Towards the end of my visit, T deliberated over asking various friends and neighbours for favours such as shopping, taxi-ing and doing her washing. I gently but sternly reminded her just how much she does for others and recommended she take this opportunity to let others care for her for a change. I'm willing to bet my house on the fact that once asked, the people around her will happily go out of their way to help T get back on her feet*.

I awoke this morning with a dreadful head cold and was myself forced to call in sick, delegate duties and meetings, and divert calls. My first proper sick day in almost a year; I didn't even check my emails (well, okay, I did peek once in the afternoon but I didn't respond to any). I realised I then had to swallow the most difficult medicine of all: my own advice.

*those who don't, have no business calling themselves friends.