Pavlova

Oh, pavlova. Even its name ignites thoughts of a clandestine lover of some sort. Making this dessert was an almost emotional experience, because it was only something I had at picnics and dinner parties with my Australian girl friends back in beautiful Mount Eliza. Pavlova, to me, is synonymous with weekends spent on their farms and homes, playing out in the garden or floating on a tube in a pond and coming back to a meal, and of course, dessert--- all lovingly prepared by their mothers.



It has been 5 years since I have seen any of my dear old friends, and 5 years since my tongue last tasted pavlova. I miss Australia and boarding school all the time, but making this allowed me to have a slice of Australia back.

I remember the first time I had it, a whimsical symphony of crisp meringue with a cloudlike soft centre, topped with an avalanche of fresh cream and finally... seasonal fruit. Raspberries, I think, are divine with this, as the tartness perfectly counterbalances the sweetness of the meringue. You can use whatever you may have on hand.



I made more than my boyfriend and I could possibly eat (out of any regard for our waistlines), so I gave a generous serving to my favourite doorman. He looked amused, and I trust he enjoyed it.

It is one of my favourite desserts, for the reasons mentioned above. You absolutely must make it! Recipe here.

No Place Quite Like Home

It is nearly time to leave. Why do I feel robbed by time? When I left Chicago in July, August felt so far away, and now it's past mid-August and my string of flights over the Pacific is only four days away.

So I have been absorbing a year's worth of memories and sensory details to last me the next 365 days or more. Probably more.

Like falling asleep to the music of Malaysian rain at night. I say 'Malaysian' rain because it sounds different compared to rain in Chicago. I'm serious! Rain in Chicago often strikes fear in my heart. It's almost vengeful. But the nightly showers here are like beautiful wet xylophone notes to my ears.



Oh, and being woken up by a pair of sand-coloured paws prodding against my arm. It's almost always too early for that, but dogs don't always have the greatest sense of time. Sometimes as I am typing away on the computer, she decides after an hour that she has had enough of this lack of attention. So she plants herself next to the desk and whines until I call out various permutations of her name (Lou-Lou, Alou, Louette, Woo Woo, Booette, Little Lou-Lou, etc.) in her favourite language... Babytalk. Alouette has my heart.




Let's not forget durian, and the wonderful durian stalls with their huge colourful umbrellas littered around the city, ready to serve you the creamy custard fruit of the gods. If you are Southeast Asian and you do not like durian... I cannot trust you.



Kuih tako, I saved you till last because I am most thankful to you. Your soft pandan and coconut milk self amuses my bouche and has saved me from the monotony of a strict post wisdom teeth extraction diet. Mashed up fruit gets old after a while.



Sigh. I am sad to leave home, but very happy to have been here.

Equatorial

I know just four months from now, as I am stomping my way through the delectable grey mixture of snow and dirt in knee high waterproofed boots, cursing myself for choosing to fly to the other side of the world FOR WHAT? ...FOR THIS!--- I am going to wish so much to be home. In my garden, surrounded by coconut trees and leaves as large as my head and sweet pink guava picked fresh. Shushing my Alouette, who is barking up a tree at a silly squirrel.

Okay, okay. I think I'll try to forget about the W word (hint: it rhymes with 'splinter') and just bask in what I have now.

Missing

My mother has been in the country for a little over a month. It has been SUCH an eventful month. We've done a lot in those 30+ days:- swaying at 10,000 feet in the air in a cable car over Sandia Peak in New Mexico, zipping each other up for countless ceremonies during my sister's wedding celebrations in Taos, and the two things that are inevitable with us: staying up far too late talking about family, love and life, and of course, shopping.

She just left this morning and it feels very weird not to have her suitcases sitting in my apartment. I got her two miniature lemon poppyseed muffins from the free breakfast downstairs and put it in a ziplock bag for her to eat. I like doing little things for my mother when she visits, like cooking for her and making sure she's comfortable. I guess it's because I see her once a year.

I've been saying goodbye to my parents since I was 15, when I moved to Australia for boarding school. It just never really was something I got used to. At least this time I know it won't be a year before I see her next. I'll be home in my beautiful equatorial trifecta (Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia) in a month!

Off to watch Italy vs. Paraguay.