Food – Page 5 – slightly weird

20th September 201929th September 2019

My week in Wales

Friday, 20 September, 2019

Wales is beautiful…well, Pembrokeshire is. I’ve not seen that much of Wales – bits and pieces and some of it so long ago that I no longer remember the details.

Pembrokeshire is in southwest Wales in that sticky-outy part of the coast where, if you look up to the sky, there are planes travelling from and to North America. In fact, when I cross the Atlantic from Toronto, I’m aware that I’m probably flying over Emma’s town as we reach the coastline.

The trouble is – look away you country folk – Pembrokeshire is rural, dotted with little villages and towns, and it’s wasted on me. Somehow the gene that makes people sigh with relief when they reach the countryside and drink in all that greenery and smell that fresh air skipped me.

Give me the urban life.

But there were five days, more or less, in Wales. Precisely in Goodwick (in Welsh, Wdig) a small coastal town that is twinned with Fishguard (in Welsh, Abergwaun, meaning “Mouth of the River Gwaun”) . There are about 5,000 people living in Fishguard and Goodwick – yes, it’s that small. Emma’s little part of Goodwick is called Stop-and-Call. Confused yet? The photos below show the view from Stop-and-Call, 330 feet from the centre of the town. You can see that you’re high above the harbour.

View of the countryside from Stop-and-Call

View of Fishguard Harbour from Stop-and-Call

Most my time at Stop-and-Call was spent sitting with Emma in her bedroom. Since she’s become less mobile, she’s set up the space with an armchair she can sleep in, a work space, and a small area with a microwave and bar fridge. She goes downstairs when she’s going out. Emma has carers and her son, Sam, helps out. Most of the time it’s Julie, who lives a short walk away. There seems to be a regular routine to all this but Emma says that, after years of yearning for time alone, she spends hours by herself now. She misses London, where she once owned a flat off Brick Lane. I used to love visiting her there.

Emma’s husband, Colin, has been living in a rest home for some time now. He has’end-stage’ MS and so there’s also a complex routine for him, which is shared by Julie and another carer, also called Emma. A lot of Emma’s time is taken up with advocating for Colin and for herself and her family. It’s interesting to see the choreography of it all.

After a quiet but chatty day spent with Emma in her room on Tuesday, we made plans to get out on Wednesday to a spa hotel called The Cliff on the edge of Cardigan. We were promised a stunning view so why not. Elaborate plans were made for the drive – Sam’s friend, Dave, drove us there along many narrow, hedge-lined road, country highways with all the attendant farm vehicles intruding briefly, and through the lovely little towns of Newport and Cardigan – two places I’d consider going back to should I be in Pembrokeshire again.

The Cliff hotel was at the very edge of the Irish Sea. We ate lunch in the sun on the patio, Emma with her wheelchair umbrella. I chose a pasta with local cockles but regretted my choice. It was heavily sauced and this completely swamped the flavour of the cockles, and it was heaped with some crisp, crumbled bacon, which I pushed aside after a couple of tastes. So much for my food review. Well, not quite… Krish and I strolled down to the edge of the cliff to look at the sea, where I took a couple of photos. Then we walked back to have dessert on another bit of the patio that had more comfortable chairs. A deconstructed cheesecake to share…hmm. Three ice cream scoops of under-flavoured dense cream cheese, some biscuit crumbs, a slice of dried orange and some (I thought bitter) blood orange sploshes on the plate. Awful!

(P.S. we preferred the view from Goodwick!)

Continue reading “My week in Wales”

8th September 201911th September 2019

Hackney has a carnival

Sunday, 8 September, 2019

I haven’t been able to find out how many years it’s been going but there has been some sort of small local carnival in the area since the early 70s. The larger Hackney One Carnival wasn’t much when I first arrived in Hackney. I remember a small parade that would travel along from the town hall to Amhurst Road, move down Pembury Road and land at Hackney Downs, where there would be several stalls set up. Up in Ridley Road market there was more to see – more music, more food.

But it’s grown. Now the route is longer and there are many performers. Now there are satellite areas all over, with several sound stages, impromptu and planned.

When I woke up and began preparing for the day, things seemed to kick into gear early. I could hear a persistent voice saying something like ‘Get off the bike or we will call the police.’ At first puzzled, I then realised that someone must have been on a public-use bike that shouldn’t be riding it. I had no idea these bikes could talk.

My Hackney morning had begun.

I was really surprised when Krish said he’d come with me to the parade. He’s not good with such events. However, we set off together past the barriers that closed off traffic and towards the town hall. I didn’t have a lot of time but I wanted to see something of the parade – being short, and with more than 60,000 people expected, I wasn’t anticipating much joy with that – then check out Bohemia Place market, travel along the Narrow Way, behind St Augustine’s Tower to the churchyards, the bicycle path, and on to St John’s of Hackney – two hours, I thought.

The crowd gathering — The crowd was gathering. I wasn’t sure I would be able to see a thing

Although there was a lot of police presence, they seemed relaxed and in the moment

Not surprisingly, Krish lasted less than ten minutes. That’s OK. My camera and I had plans.

And also not surprisingly, although the parade made lots of noise, I couldn’t see a thing. And I was short on time so I set off towards Bohemia Place. It wasn’t very busy. There were some stalls, a bunch selling food – mostly vegan as always – and a DJ on a sound stage.

Amidst all the fun, a reminder that Hackney needs to be knife-free

Having fun in Bohemia Park — Having fun in Bohemia Place

The Narrow Way was pretty busy. I had a rare jaunt into the McDonalds, which was less not more busy than usual. A mini chicken wrap and mini ice cream and I was good for another hour or two.

The pedestrianised Narrow Way was busier than usual

There were two bands on the street with a good crowd for each.

I walked over to the churchyard past the tower. I found a children’s area inside what I call the Hackney Secret Garden and, to the side, a large sound stage was set up. I’d managed to catch the band between set and listened to the singer try to liven up the audience. This was strangely hard to do, considering the occasion, but I always have fun listening to the local hip hop accent.

It's all about the food — It’s all about the food

Continue reading “Hackney has a carnival”

1st September 20191st September 2019

Superclubbing! The Nyonya Supper Club

9 August, 2019

I haven’t been to a supper club for years!

I’ve been reading a blog called The Boy Who Ate the World for about ten years. I can’t even remember how I came across it. The blogger is Guan Chua. He was born in Kuala Lumpur and lives in London, in the Whitechapel area. Guan used to be a financial analyst but then trained as a Cordon Bleu chef. He loves to travel and write about his foodie treks but best of all he loves to cook the Malaysian-Nyonya cuisine of his childhood.

Guan was a contestant on Nigella Lawson’s ‘The Taste,’ where he fulfilled his dream of being mentored by Anthony Bourdain. He didn’t win but I enjoyed his time on the show a lot. I knew he ran a supper club – better still, it was in the Whitechapel area! – but Krish isn’t keen on Malaysian food and I wasn’t keen to go alone, and spend the money! Instead I would just read Guan’s Instagram and think about the food. Emails would come in announcing a new supper club but typically I’d be too late to get a place, they’re snapped up so quickly.

One day a couple of months ago an email came in as I was sitting doing something else so I emailed back immediately – any date in August, please! This time I made it. I was going!

The night of the supper club, just as I was about to leave, a ridiculously unexpected and fierce rain and wind storm sprung up. I had to wait for it to pass, then saw that the next bus would be quite a while. I jumped on the next bus that took me anywhere close and we trundled along oh so slowly in the rainy, slow moving traffic. I found a bus stop for another bus to complete my journey and had quite a long wait again. By the time I reached Aldgate East station, I had only a few seconds to get there.

But I got lost! Dinner was feeling far far away. A few calls to Guan and I finally made it to his apartment block and into his small flat in the new complex I’d walked by so many times. I was at least 20 mins late but Guan greeted me with a lovely gin and tonic. I felt quite ready for it. I’d not had time to buy any drink for the table, as planned.

There were ten of us sitting down in the dining space in the open plan living room/kitchen. I was probably 30 years older than the oldest of them. These twenty and thirty somethings were chatting back and forth about their travels around Asia, and the food they’d found there. I felt quite overwhelmed with it. How had they travelled so much? What was going on? Somehow the world was leaving me behind, so I listened politely and waited for food. Definitely worth the wait!

Sambal Crab Bites - but I'm allergic to crab so didn't get the taste them — Sambal Crab Bites – but I’m allergic to crab so didn’t get to taste them

Guan had kindly made me my own crabless Sambal bites - Yum! — Guan had kindly made me my own crabless Sambal bites – Yum! (Although I lost my two temporary fillings crunching them up!)

This noodle dish was my favourite! — This cold noodle dish was my favourite! Kerabu Glass Noodles with crayfish and Nyonya Herbs. So fresh and mouthwatering. I want this recipe!

Drunken prawns. I wimped out and didn’t eat the heads

29th August 2019

A routine hospital visit- The Royal London and Whitechapel

Wednesday, 28 August, 2019

I use a CPAP machine – I should talk about that some time – and, while it helps with some pretty severe symptoms such as night terrors and sleep paralysis as well as having a desirable effect of no snoring, it does mean that I’m never truly comfortable while sleeping. I’ve chosen the most minimal mask to wear but I just feel trapped behind it and I’m confined to certain sleeping positions. So when my sleep doctor asked me if I’d like to try a dental device instead, I thought it was worth my while to at least check into it. Reports from the CPAP users that I asked weren’t very favourable but I’d go see for myself.

I got a letter asking me to come to the Dental building at the Royal London Hospital and that’s not so far away. Today was the day. Except I woke up feeling groggy and shaky, and obviously not that thrilled with the thought of rousing myself and getting down there.

I had my tonsils out at the London Hospital (at Whitechapel). I was six years old and while my memories are interesting, they aren’t good ones. I was in a huge ward for about a week, walked down in a group of other lucky surgical victims, tricked into inhaling ether, or whatever they used to put me to sleep, dreamed a long dream of a bright star spinning in inky black space, and woke up to pure torture. If you’ve ever had your tonsils out, you know exactly what I mean.

Archival image of a ward at the London Hospital

Before the surgery, they’d teased me with descriptions of all the lovely ice cream I’d be eating while my throat was ‘sore.’ It sounded all right! Now I knew the truth. Swallowing even my own saliva was more than I could tolerate. Ice cream? No way! I can even sort of remember the terrible, raw, soreness of my throat or can I?

Then a nurse kept coming by as I pulled out of my groggy just-anaethetised state, ‘Are you feeling sick?’ ‘Do you want to be sick?’ At the tender age of six, I found myself thinking ‘Hm, I think they’re telling me I’m going to be sick.’ And soon enough, I threw up a bunch of burning bloody stuff that made my throat feel even worse, if that was possible.

I think I must have struggled with a few sips of water at first. And then some time later, maybe a day, who knows, they came around with the food trolley. I was handed a plate, on which was some buttered bread fingers and many slices of orange. Orange! I knew instinctively that I could not eat those. I protested and was told to be quiet. I looked under the plate where they’d always put a label with the patient’s name, and read ‘Janice Solomon.’ She was the little girl in the opposite bed in for a broken arm. ‘This isn’t mine,’ I said, ‘It’s for Janice Solomon. I can’t eat oranges.’ I was shushed and told ‘Eat it!’ I’ve fortunately forgotten what happened after that but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.

For a week I could have no visitors. I’ve always had separation anxiety and imagined my family had abandoned me. One sadistic nurse even hinted at it. Then finally I got to go home and put the whole horrible thing behind me. As you can tell, I haven’t ever forgotten it.

Some years ago they closed the hospital and built a brand new hospital complex. Instead of the old brown brick ones, up went some blue glass towers. a few of the old brick ones remain here and there and still serving people. It’s strange that they’re still needed but it’s sort of comforting to see them there. They say that the Tower Hamlets council has bought the old main hospital building on Whitechapel Road and will be using it for a civic centre. It looks like they are keeping the old building and adding to it. I’m glad it won’t look so different from the road.

For some reason, I forgot to photograph the old hospital behind the hoardings but I did wander along the market, which we called Whitechapel Waste in my childhood days. It was a large Jewish market and now is completely Muslim

The new dental clinic at The Royal London – inside it was modern and bright

The old emergency dental clinic at the Royal London – I went once and it was archaic and dark

Looking past the corner of the old dental clinic, you can see the many blue towers of the new Royal London

One of the remaining old buildings of the RLH – still in use

From the orthodontics clinic window – a long queue for one of the old buildings

I’m going back to the clinic later in the year for more investigations – I’m not ready yet for the device they want me to try – but I’ll be back in Whitechapel again many many times before that.
Continue reading “A routine hospital visit- The Royal London and Whitechapel”

24th June 201924th July 2019

Sharon and Mohan’s wedding – Kangan night

Sunday, 23 June, 2019

Kangan is also considered the ‘farewell’ but is traditionally the day the couple removes the amulet tied around their wrists. The amulet is used to protect the bride and groom so that they can enter married life ‘void of any evils.’ The religious part of the whole thing is over and now it’s time to celebrate before beginning normal, married life. From what I’ve read this is often done separately by the bride and groom’s families but in Moh and Sharon’s case, the two families came together for a back yard party at Moh’s.

Since Moh and Krish’s time as children at the house, the back yard has changed quite a bit. From the kitchen, there’s a generous porch-landing with stairs leading down. And from the basement, you can step straight out to the yard itself. There are paving stones where there once was grass and a vegetable garden. And there’s a bar, a firepit, and lots of seating. A grand place for a party!

The patio from the kitchen — **The patio leading from the kitchen**

Guests arrived steadily through the night. I helped with food preparation and serving in the kitchen. By now the family members were no longer strangers to me, although some still suspicious. Moh went to China Cottage to pick up appetiser dishes to begin the evening, and this was followed by the usual array of meat and vegetable curries and a table of desserts.

**Activity in the basement kitchen and food table**

Tulsi’s best friend and his wife are going to Barcelona in October and their visit overlaps mine by a few days so we made plans to meet. That should be fun!

People came and went. Some people arrived long after most had left. It was mostly the smaller family unit – the brothers, the nieces – Ariya and Annabelle, Naomi and Rana, and Tulsi and Karne sitting together, chatting and relaxing. We lit the firepit and dodged mosquitoes. Krish had bought Annabelle some gifts throughout the months and this was probably the time that reticent little girl tore down her barriers and bonded with her ‘chacha’ (uncle). We thought it might never happen. I’ll confess that the gifts Krish had bought for her weren’t my taste. I’d wondered what Annabelle would think of them – but I’d reckoned without him having a clue about his family’s personality. Every gift was a hit, every single one.

**Sitting around the firepit late at night – Gop, Ariya, and Sharon**

It was getting late and the remaining guests had eaten and drunk their fill. Everyone was invited to stay overnight and so we fell asleep with a house full.

Sharon and Mohan’s wedding – all the blogs

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