Foraging Workshop

The first day of winter heralded not just a change of seasons, for me, it was the start of learning and exploring the natural, local world of edibles around me. I have always been interested in finding out what's edible and what isn't. I suppose the fear of being lost and starving in the wilderness has fuelled some of this curiosity. I am known to wonder out loud if the ducks and swans in the lakes are edible. Channel Living (Woodbridge's not-for-profit community organisation) put together a foraging workshop with the help of the knowledgeable and passionate Paulette Whitney from Provenance Growers recently. 

My first introduction to foraged foods go back to high school where I remember vividly an Indigenous bush tucker chef came to demonstrate to our Home Economics class a lesson in Indigenous foods. We tried all sorts of bush tucker – Davidson's plums, warrigal greens, lemon myrtle, quandongs, macadamias and a few wriggly specimens. I remember the fat, creamy Witchetty grubs being flash fried in butter. Not wanting to be squeamish, I tried one and then a second one – they tasted a bit like prawns I remember. Rather delicious! I have not forgotten that Home Ec lesson and have always longed to be able to repeat that day of experimenting with food that was completely alien to me. 

The foraging workshop took place in one of the Co-op member's property. The property is up in the hills of Birchs Bay with stunning views overlooking d'Entrecasteux Channel and Bruny Island. From above we could see clouds rolling in on the horizon and down below, in the calm waters were floating big pens of salmon where aquaculture, I believe is thriving. Paulette had brought some samples with her and laid out on the table were specimens she had picked from her property and from nearby parks. These were then passed around so we could all try. 

(view from the hills of Birchs Bay)

(beautiful day for foraging)

These were some of the plants we tried:

sea celery/sea parsley

samphire

sea blite

chick weed

flick weed

sheep's sorrel

corn spurry

shepherd's purse

mallow

fat hen

fumitory

borage

nettles

cress

(table full of edibles)

(the blackberry nightshade)

Some of the plants that stood out for me were sea celery with its lovely salty flavour, samphire – little pops of salt and texture, sheep's sorrel with its refreshing lemony aftertaste, fumitory for its bitter effect and nettles for its slight buzzy tingling in my throat. I must say after a morning of trying all sorts of plants and weeds – the herbaceous, grassy green after-taste lingered long in my mouth.

(silver wattle)

We walked around the property to see what we could forage and we did find a few things. Some of the edible things we found on our walk were: buckhorn plantain (a common weed in lots of gardens); blackberry nightshade, Hawthorn, red native currants, Kangaroo apples (make sure the berries are super ripe before you eat them). Silver wattle flowers, according to Paulette make a good sweet addition to pancake batter. She continued to tell us that Spanish heath flowers were being used to smoke mutton birds as part of the Savour Tasmania food festival. That would have been an interesting combination! I learned that tree ferns are edible although at the expense of the plant – as to crack open its starchy heart would mean killing the tree. Native cherry berries are also edible, reeds. clumps of miners lettuce and sticky weed were among some of the found edibles in the property. There were a few more edibles I didn't quite catch unfortunately. A few helpful tips cropped up too in Paulette's workshop. Fumitory is used in cheesemaking to curdle milk. Plantain is good for healing cuts and wounds, petty spurge's milky sap is used to treat skin cancers and eczema.

Another important thing to note with foraging is that with some plants look like other plants and one can easily mistake a poisonous plant for an edible one. I certainly made that mistake – in certain section of our own property I've seen a mass of what I thought to be comfrey, luckily I checked with Paulette. These turned out to be the not so edible Fox Glove. She also made us aware of the fashionable trend of restaurant chefs foraging for ingredients - with Tasmanian chefs leading the way - and it makes sense when we have such a variety of edibles right on our doorstep.The good news is I have buckhorn plantain, Spanish heath, sticky weed and fumitory growing everywhere, a ton of forget-me-nots and nasturtiums and a good-looking silver wattle which I intend to add to my pancakes. I don't think I'll look at 'weeds' the same again but now, at least, I don't just have the sole option of composting them – I can choose to eat them as well. Imagine eating more than a dozen herbs and plants all collected from your garden – give your lettuce and rocket salad a break and your body will thank you for the diversity of minerals and vitamins you're introducing to your system.

For more information on the good things that Channel Living do - visit:  

http://channelliving.org/

For a thorough read on Tassie's wild grown and cultivated foods, and thoughtful writing, read:

http://provenancegrowers.blogspot.com.au/ 

(of course, i couldn't resist taking a pic of this cute fungi growing out of this piece of dung)

New beginnings

It’s been such a long time since I posted, and in the meantime, the world in between posts has shifted dramatically in these two and a half years. My running around as a food reviewer and food guide publisher has come to an end this year. The world of eating out endlessly, meeting busy schedules and impossible deadlines; the ongoing financial and emotional challenges of running an independent food guide has caused great stress and harm. And perhaps for want of privacy, I stopped communicating through the social media sphere. My love and appetite for eating out and discovering new places have not diminished but I feel the time for home-cooking and rediscovery of what cooking skills I have left ought to be nurtured, and is important at this stage in my life. So thank you to all those who supported me for years by buying my little food guide and making my dream of publishing an independent food guide come true. My beloved and I have turned inner city living on its head and headed into the country – specifically, into Tasmania’s southern countryside. The hills here are rich and perfect for animals and orchards, and its shores teem with seafood. There isn’t a better time to look to the land and sea for inspiration and creativity than now. So perhaps it is fitting that I should kick start meemuncher with my reflections of the journal of new writing and ideas, Griffith Review’s #39 Tasmania: The Tipping Point that I’ve had the pleasure to read.
 
 Those interested in this edition check out: https://griffithreview.com/edition-39-tasmania-the-tipping-point/

  To celebrate new beginnings in a new land – what better way to get a grip on what the island is about by reading this collection of essays, memoirs and writing by people who have lived, continue to live and by those who were born on the Apple Isle, left and re-entered island life after a period of absence. This is an enticing entrée for those who want to get to know Tasmania a little bit more. I only knew of the tourism clichés that fill print and advertising media. I certainly have learned a bit more about the complexities of green and mainstream politics through the essay about the collapse of the timber industry; saddened about the whaling stations on Bruny Island and absolutely appalled about the forced incarceration of Indigenous peoples on Flinders Island and the genocide that took place not very far from here. And as for the purposeful destruction of apple orchards when the 1970s’ export market crash, it decimated much of Tasmania’s economy – it was a gargantuan waste of orchardists’ efforts and resources, and perfectly good apples!

Many of the articles don’t shy away from the ‘un-niceties’ of living in isolated circumstances, of being stuck in horrendous weather conditions and the reminders of the realities of dealing with inward-looking individuals. There is so much to inspire as well – the hope of progressive individuals, the connection to place and the genuine love people have for Tasmania is to be admired. Natasha Cica opens up about what it’s like to re-enter Island life after a period of absence. Cassandra Pybus writes eloquently of her conundrum of not being able to live anywhere else but Tasmania but yet wanting to flee at the same time. I found David Walsh’s essay refreshing – forget government bureaucracy and art farting around – his frank admission that MONA came about simply because he wanted to put his art collection on walls – more or less. Matthew Evans makes an impassioned plea to the dairy industry to think about over-commercialising and dumbing down of the uniqueness of their products. Evans, and I’m sure a swag of food lovers want food producers to make the best of Tasmania’s terroir and the unique regional flavours that come from that. This edition makes a valuable contribution to Australia’s understanding of what is going on in the Apple Isle, and provides great dinner party conversation starters.

Me'a Kai : The Food and Flavours of the South Pacific book review

Me’a Kai: The Food and Flavours of the South Pacific
By Robert Oliver with Dr Tracy Berno and photos by Shiri Ram


As Australia Day rolls around every year, I always pause to deliberate on the issues that inevitably crop up during this time of year. What it means to be Australian, how Australian-ness is celebrated and what is deemed to be un-Australian. There are quite a few perspectives floating around. It is often not a unanimous celebratory day for all, depending on which side of the fence you sit. Most call it Australia Day, others Invasion Day and some, even Survival Day. All are legitimate perspectives in my opinion and should be acknowledged. Neighbours of mine cooked up a fantastic barbecue lamb feast that would have put a huge smile of Sam Kekovich’s face! I thought I might celebrate a bit of reflective post-Australia Day with a book review on a cuisine that is not part of our vocabulary. Many groups of Islander peoples have contributed significantly to the building of the Australian nation up in northern Queensland and Northern Territory. So why don’t we celebrate Australia Day with some islander food? Australia is an island nation surrounded by water. The Pacific is also made up of island nations and is surrounded by a bounty of beautiful produce from the sea.

Recently, I found a comprehensive and beautiful book on Pacific Islander cooking. This publication comes from Random House New Zealand. And what a fantastic job they’ve done. This book will prove an invaluable resource for those craving diverse South Pacific recipes and stories from Samoa, Rarotonga, the Cook Islands, Vanuatu, Fiji, Tahiti and Tonga. The author, Robert Oliver has mapped out the book with care. In it you’ll find cultural and social narratives about land, lost heritage and how locals are regaining cultural pride through keeping alive traditional recipes. This is a big project – all these stories and recipes are captured within its 493 pages. This book will no doubt inspire you to plan a holiday to the South Pacific with its photographs of toddlers sipping from young coconuts, landscapes full of swaying, coconut-laden trees, perfect idyllic beaches, hyper-colourful markets and smiling friendly locals.


(preparing lap lap over hot rocks)


Readers are introduced to cooking with coconut in all its various uses. You can drink it, milk it, turn it into oil, grate it for food and ferment it for an extra taste sensation. Banana leaves get a big look-in. Surely it’s nature’s original, environmentally-friendly food wrapper. Lovos (earth ovens) or hangis to you Kiwis out there are lovingly described; let’s not forget the Samoan umu (or above-ground spit) and we learn all sorts of interesting ways of cooking with seawater and bamboo. There is a useful market guide to ingredients too. Oliver writes of South Pacific markets brimmingwith amaranth (also a Chinese favourite leafy veg), Fijian river ferns, sweet potato leaves, taro leaves, bananas and plantains, wild lemons called molikana, mangoes, Tahitian apples. Seasonal seafood harvests like balolo (or coral worm tails – apparently they taste like caviar according to the author), sea cucumbers, glassweed (a seaweed gelling agent), and sea grapes. Exotic ingredients like duruka (Fiji asparagus) or heart of sugarcane, hearts of palm, and Polynesian chestnuts. All these things I have yet to try!


(that's not a spread - THIS is a spread!)


From Samoa, we have umu-baked pawpaw bread (wrapped in banana leaves) with coconut caramel sauce. Plantain soup with ginger, balsamic vinegar and curry powder being predominant bedmates, and reef clams with tomato, chilli and vodka salsa.

Rarotongans love their pawpaw breakfast jams, starfruit chutneys, uto pancakes (uto is fruit that develops inside a sprouting coconut!), raw tuna salad with pawpaw seeds and coconut rolls. Those who want to try these coconut-rich rolls can buy them at selected Islander bakeries in Brisbane.

Fijian delicacies are featured, such as taro-leaf wrapped river shrimps, octopus baked in banana leaf, roasted chicken with Polynesian chestnuts and Tamarind gravy, Kokoda (a kind of South Pacific ceviche marinated in coconut milk and limes.

Oliver also gives the Indo-Fijian communities a look-in. We don’t find a lot of Fijian-Indian food much in Brisbane. Cowpeas with aubergines, mangrove mud crab curry, goat and green pawpaw curry. Oliver also sweeps the Fijian-Euro communities for fusion gems. Try chilled rourou soup (taro leaf) with coconut milk, coconut cream pies and mango puddings.

In Tahiti, the locals love raw fish. Fish tartares abound – these are made with super fresh cuts of mahi mahi, tuna and snapper. The French influence can be seen in pawpaw ratatouille, La Bouillabaise Tahitienne with fresh seafood and coconut milks – these dishes always have an Islander twist. It may be fish steaks with a blue cheese sauce but served with breadfruit chips.

Tonga serves up watermelon smoothies (complete with fresh grated coconut and coconut milk!), warm young coconut drink with lemongrass and cassava flour and the delicious Ota Ika (Tongan ceviche). Those interested in trying some of these Islander delicacies head to Matauaina’s Takeaway at 268 Kingston Road, Slacks Creek.


(Ota Ika - tuna loin marinated in lime juice & coconut milk)


Me’a Kai celebrates the diversity that exists in the Pacific and although they share a lot of common ingredients, each island nation imbues its food with different and daring twists. I have learnt so much from reading this book and thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful photographs taken by Fijian photographer, Shiri Ram. Now if only Brisbane has more Islander food places! This is a must-read for all foodies.

A dash of Baba Nyonya

Think pineapple tarts. Think beaded shoes. Think antiques. Think Nyonya kuihs (cakes) and pastries. Where do we think when we think of these things? We think of Melaka, of course! After a somewhat underwhelming eating sojourn in Singapore, we made our way into Malaysia with the promise of good, cheap street food. Melaka is known for its Portuguese ruins and promises an interesting historical past. I never paid too much attention when I was in school in Malaysia but I do recall tidbits of Melakan history. Melaka was a thriving port in the early 15th century. It was an important trading route with China being one of its biggest traders. To cut the history lesson short: Chinese merchants and families intermarried with local Malays over the ensuing generations, and as a result, we have a very unique group called the Peranakans. Or baba and nyonyas as they are so often called. Their cuisine is unique and is a fusion of Chinese and Malay flavours. You don’t find much representation of this subgenre of Malaysian food in restaurants overseas so we were very excited to see there were lots of Nyonya restaurants to choose from while we were in Melaka. Alas, Monday evenings, we discovered, is not conducive to dining in restaurants in town. Most interesting Nyonya restaurants we’d walked past in the day, and made mental notes to visit later were all shut. Our hotel concierge had recommended two well-reputed restaurants but they were all shut. After much disappointment and a lot more walking around we found one restaurant that was open – just. We had to ask the proprietor to open the doors for us – they were closing up for the night. They very kindly took pity on us and our loud, rumbling stomachs helped a bit. We tried to order some dishes but many of them had sold out so these were our picks.

Itik Tim soup here consists of salty duck pieces with preserved salted mustard leaves. My grandmother does a fabulous Teo Chew version of this preserved vegetable and duck soup for my father (but with leftover roast duck, salted mustard, fresh mustard, dried whole chillies, tamarind peel and tomatoes). It’s his favourite soup and he can drink gallons of this rich, hot, sour and salty broth.

(our dinner at Anak Nyonya Restoran)

The cubes of spongy-looking custard is otak otak Melaka-style. The otak otak I’m used to are usually wrapped up in banana leaves and either steamed or grilled. These cubes were an onslaught of flavours, chilli, turmeric and kaffir lime leaves punch through and the texture was a good mixture of smooth and slightly coarse fish meal. Think spicy fish mousse for those of you who haven’t yet tried it.

Ayam masak merah or red chilli chicken is a favourite dish with many Malaysians, and is usually eaten with mounds of rice. This version had some fiery chilli heat for extra kick. The sauce was very rich and had an almost caramelized/treacley consistency.

Cincaluk omelette is another popular Nyonya dish. Fermented tiny shrimps are beaten into the egg mix and shallow-fried – the texture is springy and very light. Delicious!

Our last dish, chap chye is a typical vegetarian dish you’ll find in many households on the first and fifteenth days of the month. Devout Buddhists observe vegetarian days on the first and fifteenth days of the month and this dish features heavily on the menu. It’s a comforting dish of braised cabbage, wood ear fungus, lily buds, mung bean vermicelli and bean curd skin.
Here are other food ramblings in Melaka town.

The Jonker Street markets offer a mix of touristy offerings and locally-made products. You’ll find this gentleman who runs a mobile popiah stall at the markets. Popiah fillings can be as economical or as luxurious as you want. Typical fillings consist of shredded yam bean, carrots, firm bean curd, pork and a heap of shallots and finely shredded lettuce. Some more upmarket popiah makers fill their thin skin wrappers with crab and other such indulgent fillings!

This Jonker Street Market popiah seller’s fillings (from memory) were very tasty despite lacking in luxurious ingredients, and made extra tasty by a dash of hoisin and chilli sauce. The guy handled dirty notes and coins – all the while preparing these parcels! Maybe that’s why they tasted so good!

Here is another memorable meal. Lunch at Hoe Kee for Melaka’s famous chicken rice balls. Imagine Hainan chicken rice packed up and rolled in giant golf ball-sized morsels. Call me boring but I think I preferred the normal chicken rice. The chicken was super smooth and tender and the accompanying sticky soy and gingery chilli sauce went down a treat. I didn’t think I’d get excited about cabbage but the stir-fried cabbage here is the goods! I could’ve eaten a whole plate of it if I weren’t with other people and had to share!

The soup was very tasty if you can get past the chopped up bits of chicken feet. Boil pork bones, black beans (also called turtle beans), ginger and lots of chicken feet for hours and you have a really tasty broth. My grandmother makes a version of black bean soup but with lamb shanks, ginger and honey dates. This makes the perfect winter pick-me-up.


(Hainan chicken rice balls in close up)


Melaka is a touristy town but with a bit of heart and soul and we had a great time walking around town looking at the old Chinese shop houses with their intricate carvings and plasterwork. The hotel we stayed at, Hotel Puri is a beautiful space to relax in. It’s a heritage Nyonya house with lots of interesting nooks and crannies filled with antique artifacts, kitchen and cooking utensils.

Here is a demonstration setup of a typical old-fashioned Malay kuih-making kitchen. !



(Such interesting kuih moulds)

The hotel is so ambient and relaxing even the swallows have found their way in and made comfortable homes in one of the foyers! It’s the most magical thing to walk into this room in the late evening and have these birds fly in and out encircling the room in search of a perch stop. The concierge told us that the owner of the hotel harvests the birds’ nests for soups every now and again. Birds nest can costs up to several thousand ringgit per kilo so this is a good omen indeed! There is a huge market for birds nest we discovered in Malaysia’s east coast (post of this later down the track!).



(There must be several generations of birds in the one room - oh the noise!)

Restaurants featured are:

Anak Nyonya Restoran, 88 Jalan Tokong, Melaka (closed Wednesdays) from 10:30am - 9:30pm

Hoe Kee Hainanese Chicken Rice Ball, 4-8 Jalan Hang Jebat, Melaka

Jonker Street night markets from 6pm - 12 midnight Saturdays and Sundays.

Pass the mush, we're in hospital now

Last week I had my first taste of hospital food. How did I come by hospital food? My grandmother was admitted to hospital and her condition was looking critical so I flew down to Sydney to visit her. Her lunch arrived – she didn’t have any appetite (the woman had an appetite that would shame us all in her younger years) so I ate some of it. I thought at the time, this isn’t as bad as people say it is. Then I changed my mind when I saw what she was served for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Hospital food is, at best, tolerable, for a day or two. Stretch it out three times a day, five , six, seven days in a row and you start to see a pattern – a very repetitive one. I was there for four days and was already bored with the menu. Yes, I know hospital food is not meant to be palatable but patients have to eat in order to regain their strength, surely. In my research about hospital food, I came across a couple of articles about vulnerable patients in hospitals suffering from malnutrition. Read about malnutrition in hospitals.

I didn’t think it was polite to take photographs of my grandmother’s hospital meals do I didn’t. Readers out there will have to use their imaginations. I was surprised to see the number of non-nutritious food items that is being served up in our hospitals. The next time you're visiting someone in hospital - look around you - sugary juices, syrupy fruits and spongey white bread abound. On the menu featured items like two fruits, chicken and gravy, lamb and gravy, seasonal vegetables, tuna pasta bake, mashed potato, rice pudding and apple or orange juice. What they mean by fruit is individual servings of fruit in syrup – the kind you peel off a plastic tab and dig a spoon in. Fresh fruit is an apple (not so appropriate when the patient can’t really eat and has dentures). Chicken is an anaemic rubber ball, potatoes dry, sweet potato water logged, beans leathery and tough as old boots. This is what I suspect lies in wait for most public hospital patients. Perhaps readers who have been in private hospitals have a different experience?

My grandmother gathered up her strength to screw up her face when I lifted the lid of her lunch. A plate of indeterminate meat slathered in packet gravy, surrounded by hunks of sweet potato, potato and beans. She turned away and said feebly, I can’t eat that. A Caucasian woman who was sharing my grandmother’s ward; when I asked her what she was having for lunch – she stopped chewing and stopped for several seconds then said, rather embarrassedly, I don’t know what meat this is.

You have to eat, I said, to get better. Deep down, I wouldn’t have wanted to eat that either to tell the truth. She managed about a quarter of a potato and a mouthful of sweet potato. My mother and I ended up making her some thin fish congee and some vegetarian noodles the next couple of days. Her lunches and dinners continued to arrive – they sat untouched.

Cultural diversity must be a pain to address in public health settings. We often forget that Australia is becoming so much more multicultural these days; as a result, we end up alienating a large part of the population that end up in hospitals don’t eat the Anglo-Saxon way. Yes, it’s convenient and easy to roast a hunk of meat, chuck a heap of beans and potatoes in a big pot and forget about it. I can appreciate the logistical nightmare of cooking for a niche group but some considerations for menu planning would be so much appreciated by patients. If hospitals presented better quality, better thought-out food, patients will eat more and faster, regain their strength a lot quicker and hopefully leave these dire places pronto. This youtube clip about hospital food pretty much sums it up!

While I write this, my grandmother is still in hospital, no doubt wanting to get better faster but very likely refusing another round of chicken in gravy and two fruits. Maybe Jamie Oliver should start a Ministry of Better Hospital Food for All Vulnerable Patients?

Book launching a go

My little food guide celebrated its third edition just this Friday, 5th November 2010. Like all good book launches before, it was backed by a supportive crew of booksellers at Avid Reader. An interested audience came along and an interesting foodie panel discussed, well, food and coffee! The fabulous duo, Margaret Connolly (on violin)and Dorothy Williams (contralto singer) entertained us with Black Coffee and One Meatball. I had a food and travel writer (Karen Reyment also wrote the foreword to my book), baker-food blogger (Julia Tuomainen), food journalist (Natascha Mirosch), cooking school/food tour operator (Sally Lynch) and a fantastic barista (Ben Graham).


What a great window display - thanks Avid crew!


The foodie panel at work


More foodie panel.


M & D doing their thing.

In the year of writing the guide, getting caught up in the craze of MasterChef and other food-related madness - one thing always disturbed me. The fact that while a large percentage of Brisbanites are gorging on food in every way possible, a growing percentage of people are increasingly left with nothing or not enough to eat.

About 14 years ago I decided to have a meal in a soup kitchen in Sydney. It was an experiment for my writing. What I didn't expect was that the experience left me completely humbled. I walked away feeling ashamed of my excesses even though I was a uni student then surviving on using past use-by-date milk and two minute noodles. That soup kitchen meal has never left me. I was lucky to stumble on Mama Rene's charity recently. The charity is locally run by a Pastor John Dowell. They run a mobile soup kitchen and grocery distribution from a carpark in Spring Hill and have other operations down on the Gold Coast and other suburbs around Brisbane. They don't turn anybody away - individuals that need a hot meal and groceries are welcome. For my third book launch, I had a fundraiser event for Mama Rene's. Daniel and Tina are two very hardworking and generous souls from Mama Rene's who came and spoke to the audience about the work they do for the homeless. Together we raised a neat amount of funds that I hope will help them. So thank you to all who generously donated their time and money on Friday night. The money will be put to good use I am sure of it.


The queue lining up for groceries on a rainy night in a Spring Hill carpark.

Those who want to check out what Mama Rene's website can go to www.mamarenes.org

For delicious baking check out www.melangerbaking.com

For budding travel and food writers www.adayinthelifeimages.com/profilekarenreyment

Food journo's foodie adventures check out http://blogs.news.com.au/couriermail/food/

Coffee lovers drink this up http://onedropspecialtycoffee.com/

Brush up on your cooking skills? http://www.tastetrekkers.com.au/

Intrepid foodies who want a copy of my book go to www.brisbanebudgetbites.com.au


Below is a short piece I wrote all those years ago about the soup kitchen I ate in.

Meanwhile on the other side of Chinatown

It was the sign that did it. It read Free Meals – All Welcome!

The soured smells of old men with bags for hats and cans for cash hang in the air. In the dead of winter, a bare-chested man with a leather jacket sits hunched up rolling cigarettes while he waits for his four course meal. He has rings for knuckles and sunglasses for eyes. The leather man shreds bread as if feeding pigeons, scattering crumbs into his dishwater soup. He waits for the bread to suck up the hot soup, waits patiently for them to plump up into wheaten dumplings before gulping them down greedily.

Another man, more decrepit, holds two slices of bread in his left hand spoons soup slowly and meticulously into his mouth. He has a plastic bag for a bib and looking a little like a displaced cricket player, sports a smear of sunscreen on his forehead and above his eyes. His hand luggage is a swagger of plastic bags. Bags within bags. The balloon of bags rustle as they rub against his body. Huge rubber bands clump together around his shoes to keep him from losing the sole from the rest of his shoe. His hands shake.

A toothless old man with a brown hat and a brown jumper stares at the men inside and the other men stare at his brand new shoes. The toothless man leaves almost immediately after he finishes his meal. He is uncomfortable. He eyes the men as he walks out, his brand new shoes squeaking and clicking under him.

Pictures of Jesus and Mary loom overhead together with cardboard cut-outs of the Easter bunny. The volunteers all stand around in plastic aprons, strangely grim, all of them with beards. An older volunteer suggests to the leather man that perhaps he should say grace. The volunteer and the leather man both break out in laughter. Leather man is obviously a regular.

Skinless sausages with gritty gravy is on the menu. Dishwater soup with bloated vermicelli, a floret of cauliflower, a spoonful of spinach, a small serving of boiled pumpkin, a handful of mushy chips on the side also feature on the menu. The basket of soy and linseed bread is a nice surprise. It sits there on the communal table – touched by all hands. Hands that have rifled through old newspapers. Hands that have dug into rubbish bins for edible scraps the night before. The fruit salad is close to fermenting as it sits in the plastic container. The old men imagine fermenting grapes turning into wine before squashing the rotting grapes and mandarins down their throats.

A child and his mother pass by the soup kitchen and the boy yells out to his mother that there are free meals here. The mother pulls her child away and chastises him that this is no place to eat. No place for them to eat.

The old man with the two slices of bread in his hand gnaws at his bread, obviously leaving the best for last. He fastens his plastic bag bib, brings the plastic bowl to his lips and drinks every last drop, mops up sausage gravy and swallows every grape seed and savours the hot tea. This is a place where homeless men and women break bread, eat like it is their last meal. This is also a place where the arrogant are humbled.

Mooncake madness

Not once did I ever think that I would make mooncakes. It’s not something that a layperson does or thinks that he or she can make. For one, they’re fiddly as hell to make. And the mid-autumn season is so short, it’s way easier to just go down to the shops to buy them. After about two decades of not eating them, here I am, suddenly obsessed by these sweet morsels from my childhood. As a child eating lotus paste mooncakes were already indulgent, if we were lucky, we’d get a double salty egg yolk bunger – now that was luxury in my time.

Having just returned from Singapore and Malaysia where the mooncake is seeing a modern revival, I was blown away by the breadth of variety of these suckers. I was hooked. The mooncakes in Asia are like pieces of mini art works – the pastry skin takes on the intricate carvings of flowers and Chinese calligraphy and the fillings infinite and cleverly combined with western ingredients. I also had to justify my recent horde of mooncake moulds – what good are they sitting in the cupboard?

I happened to buy a Malaysian food magazine, Flavours at the airport on the way back to Australia. My mooncake obsession could take hold – there was a spread on mooncakes and recipes. What luck! So today, I made my first batch of mooncake dough. I didn’t want to make both dough and filling – thought I’d take baby steps first. I’m not the best of bakers – most of my baking expeditions veer off in unexpected tangents! I used a peanut-shaped mould, a traditional calligraphy mould and a tablet shaped mould.

The peach-shaped calligraphy mould was by far the most diffcult mould to use. The dough stuck furiously to its sides and it took a bit of beating mould on bench to unmould the sticky stuff.

(golden syrup, lye water and oil mix resting)


I have used the dough on its own as biscuits although its purpose is to form a skin around fillings. The dough works quite well on its own though a bit sweet. I divided my dough and mixed half of it with a mixture of grated nutmeg and ground cinnamon for a slightly spicy flavour.


(this is the shiniest dough mix ever!)



(pre-oven specimens)

My version puffed up about double and as a result, lost most of its intricate patterns. Perhaps I put too much sodium bicarbonate in? Or maybe with a filling the dough keeps its shape better. I will make some lotus paste for the next batch and see what happens. The texture is pretty good, it's slightly chewy and spicy from nutmeg and cinnamon - not unlike a German Christmas cookie!


(post-oven specimens)

Here is Flavours basic mooncake dough recipe.

250ml golden syrup
110ml peanut oil (I substituted this with canola oil)
1tsp alkaline (lye) water
430g plain flour sifted
¼tsp sodium bicarbonate

1 egg lightly beaten for egg wash

Mix golden syrup, oil and lye water in a bowl until well combined. Cover with cling film and set aside for 1 hour.

Sift in flour and sodium bicarbonate . Mix to firm a dough – if the dough is too sticky, work in 1 to 2 tbsp flour. When the dough looks shiny and smooth, cover with cling film and rest for another hour before filling and shaping.

Baking: Preheat oven to 170°C. Place shaped mooncake biscuits on greased or greaseproof lined tray. Bake for 10 minutes. Remove and brush with egg wash. Lower heat to 160°C and bake another 10 minutes. Remove from oven when biscuits are golden brown.