Wednesday, January 9, 2013


I've discovered the reason behind my loss for words as of late. It was because the wrong song was playing in the background. Music really does a splendid job of transforming the atmosphere you're in and rendering one capable of expressing a million emotions while still achieving comprehension. It's odd really, but something I find comforting, nevertheless.

So, back to my day.

Today was the beginning of my self-proclaimed culinary adventure. Since there's only a mere 11 more days until the first day of my pre-university life, I figured I should attempt all the recipes I've been dying to try since pre-SPM. So last night, I conducted an intensive Google search on all the AFC and Food Network recipes I have been keeping an eye on for months and began jotting all the recipes down with my pen on used paper. So far, I've made notes for 4 recipes with one of which I will be attempting to cook for dinner this weekend. I honestly hope nothing comes up at the last minute and that I have sufficient time to carry out what I have cerebrated since my grandmother usually prefers to do the honours of putting food on the table on weekdays. With a recipes reserved for this weekend's self-declamatory cook off, I had another three more recipes left. Two of the recipes consisted of mostly baking which could be done during weekdays since my grandmother is no master in the art of pattiserie.

The first recipe of the two I attempted today was craggy chocolate cake. After witnessing the making of this visually delectable dessert on French Cooking at Home with Laura Calder, I instantly decided I would someday try it. And today just happened to be that day I had long awaited. Unlike your typical chocolate cake, which includes the use of flour and baking powder and nonsense whatsoever, this cake only required eggs, chocolate, butter and sugar. The ingredients were easily attainable and the promised end result was not a conventional fluffy cake, but a cake with a cookie like consistency on the top and a moist centre within. I couldn't help but delve into the notion of a meringue textured sweet treat, so I went straight on ahead to purchase the ingredients and then adjourned to make the cake.

Here's a pleasant (at least to me) image of the outcome.

Doesn't it look absolutely delectable?

Honestly, I don't think I will ever bake this again unless I obtain proper assistance. It is extremely taxing having to alternately whisk two different bowls of eggs and sugar while watching over a water bath when heating chocolate and butter. It seemed so easy when I was watching it on the show, but I now realise that it is no easy feat and it takes practice to be able to perfect such multitask. Also, the egg whites somehow refused to form stiff peaks despite having being whisked over an extended period of time. Perhaps I have only myself to blame for being so incompetent in the kitchen. My right arm hurt within a matter of seconds when I was whisking those whites. Sigh. I'm assuming that was why the cake did not rise as well as I had expected it to and did not produce a craggy top out of the oven. It tasted more like a brownie instead, with a crisp top and chewy bottom. Oh well, at least my freshly whipped cream worked out and it complemented the dessert perfectly to balance off the sweetness of the cake.

I must say, I have new found respect for all chefs, both culinary and pattiserie. Today certainly marked the beginning of my culinary endeavours. I just hope this weekend's dinner will go as planned and that I will be able to execute as planned.

Alright, enough talk about food. I'm pretty sure you are now susceptible to raiding the kitchen for snacks to nullify your current hunger.

On a less appetizing and yet enthusiastic note, I will be seeing the high school group tomorrow. It feels really uncanny discussing about them as if they were but a distant memory, honestly. I only left school two months ago and yet I feel as if the notion of school offers a sense of unfamiliarity, a strangeness I can't seem to grasp. Anyhow, away with the deep thoughts. I'm superbly glad that I will be able to go out with this bunch of amazing and individually unique group of people before they and soon, I step into the world of tertiary education. While Ka Yan has attended her orientation, the rest of us are pretty much anticipating to see what college life (or for me, uni life) will bring. But we could not possibly do it without having one last get-together to embrace the moments we've had and to reignite this flame of friendship, hoping that it does not do away.

Oh God, why do I sound so poetic? -.- Right, I shall snap out of it.

Anyway, tomorrow will be our last outing together before college/uni begins. And I will cherish it and sing to my heart's content in the karaoke. I will try not to lose my voice, however, since I will be taking on another valuable prospect the following day.

I'll be meeting Dia Frampton in person! *inner indie squealing with immense joy*

The fact didn't sink in until today when an acquaintance of mine who is part of the video crew asked if he could use my DSLR to record the interview. It was then that I realised how crucial it was for me to get my act together, embrace my outgoing personality and rock the interview. I'm really glad that I won't be alone on my first official journalism assignment. Moreover, as I was informed regarding the possibility of interviewing Dia Frampton today, I realised this would be my first official encounter/communion/whatever with a recording artiste.

It's amazing, the opportunities that have arose in such a short period of time. It seemed at first a long and dreadful holiday, but now I realise just how much freedom I have to do what I have been wanting to do for such a long time. And it feels great. And I ultimately thank God for all of this :)

So yeah, that's pretty much what I've been up to lately. I haven't been reading or writing fiction in the past few days though. Honestly, sometimes I can't help but think that when life somewhat exudes a certain excitement, a sudden anticipation that surges through our veins, we become obliged to abandon our devices of amusement in order to truly live the life as we perceive should be. We then escape our escapism to embrace this reality, this tangibility we once deemed imperfect and abhorring. We think that we have discovered new meaning in life only to watch all of it fade to black as quickly as it presented itself before retreating to our dull lives where the cycle repeats itself.

And that, my friend, is what life does to us. A form of mental torture really, but what more can I say?

I can only cross my fingers and pray.

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