food haunting & memories

making the food of someone that has departed your life is always complicated.
it brings many memories & emotions & yet.... for whatever the reason, there are days that just seem like the right day to be doing it.

my father had a partner for several years, he built up this whole new relationship & then realised he wasn't happy. his partner was happy, and she was lovely. her son wasn't so happy. he just wanted to be with his dad, not some man who didn't want to have to spend time with him.

anyway, in between the somewhat excitement of a tween setting up a new house and family situation, after loosing my family, where i got to choose the paint for my bedroom wall (the only time i've ever been able to do that ever, given the long-running rental share-house accommodation i've ended up living in ever since...) the colour i chose was  deep purple, so it kinda looked like a witchy den. but far more pristine. the only good thing about that relationship not lasting is that i soon would've come to regret the slightly oppressive colour palate i'd chosen.

when we weren't painting the walls, theresa would make pancakes with me. large round ones with slices of apple or peach laid out like the spokes of a wheel on one side of the pancake. these were delicious. and probably my best memories of that time & those people. the making of the apfelpfannkuchen. by mid-late 1991, my father had ended that relationship and i didn't really see theresa or her son alex ever again.

i must have photos of these weekend pancake mornings somewhere, badly stored, in less than desirable archival conditions.


ive been thinking a lot about this lately, the signature of those no longer a part of your life. whether by death, or heart break or otherwise... a 'signature' on so many levels.

at christmas time, christian used to make christmas cookies from his mother's recipe. he would bake a few batches and i'd try to see if i could subsist on these alone. some days, i did pretty darn fine.

we would improvise, using a vodka bottle as a rolling pin, probably not the right kind of jam, given we were doing in sydney and down the coast at a place near tilba. i'm sure that the german marmelades would have been far better for these kinds of biscuits, but i loved them all the same. they were something so special. to him, to me, to us.

improvisin

then we'd cut them out with star cookie cutters, stick a layer of marmalade in between them with the tops having an extra smaller star cut out for the sticky-ness to poke thru. i never did get to make these in the winter in berlin with christian, nor make them with his mum. so many regrets. always.

as for my greek grandmother, while the thought of her synonymous is with the smell of onion or leek, frying in olive oil, the dish that she made was the mediterranean baked potato dish that seemed to be warm & tangy; tasting of lemon & tomatoes. i learnt to cook many other things with her, but that is sone thing that really stands out: an almost wabisabi flavour.

again, photos are in the 'archives'. (those dodgy archives)

a previous partner's mother made some pretty awesome meals for her kids (to which i just added myself to the cohort). the best & favourite of these was french onion soup, accompanied by the little toasty bits with melted cheese, then dunked in the soup, if i remember...

my dad wasn't the greatest cook, but he taught me the pleasures of fried cheese over a campfire and cooked tomatoes on buttery toast for breakfast on a cold dark winter morning. those two foods - tho not elaborate - will always remind me of him.


i'm wondering what my signature dish will ever be. risotto with asparagus & blanched almonds? buckets of fried halloumi at parties (not that i get to go to many of these any more as my friends are too distant/i'm too remote), or the winter full of veggie soups i regularly cooked up on a friday nite for the prez flatties. i miss those times there. i miss them & i wanna go back....

career change

from here

rally against

fight back

new haunt

new fave haunt

winter view

winter-y

journey girls

journey girls

rooftops

roof tops

moment

moment

missing

missing is a little bit like wishing. you wish that it could be a different way, and you miss all the characteristics about something that made it what it is, or was.

in my case, lets be honest, i'm missing someone i considered my best friend. and while it might not have been such a great time for them (as there were pretty challenging circumstances surrounding the last phase of my life these past few years), it seems ironic that... almost the minute they're not around, i start to be able to do all the things again that we enjoyed together. like the pressure is off, and i can do all those enjoyable things again, like dancing to good music, going to be the beach, wandering the streets taking photos of graffiti, walking to chinatown for dumplings, nites out having drinks with friends and hanging out in the sun.

i have to accept that they chose a different path, but one part of me can't help but wish that they were around, hanging with my crew, to now take part in this new phase. of course, i've got other friends to share these times with, and i do, but there is that twinge every now and again, that wishes they were part of this renewed adventure too.

i do think that life can pass you by pretty quickly, and whatever differences are better worked out, because as we all know (or should do, and if not, are learning), nothing is forever, and if we're only on this planet for a certain amount of time, then when we're truly gone for good, would we have missed not sharing at least some of those moments. i know i would.

soulmates

i ran into a quote online today, that seemed pretty poignant:

"Maybe your soulmate is... the person who forces your soul to grow the most. Not all growth feels good." - Rabbi Ari

and perhaps this is really true. it's a topic that i've been thinking about a bit lately, and i do wonder, when you need to clean up your act, who else might you listen to and then actually act upon these comments? okay, in my case, i didn't start to really act until it was too late - but i think had i heard it from anyone else, i still wouldn't have even begun to sort out my shit in the way that i'm taking the steps now.

so while i should have made bigger steps far sooner, because that person deserved to be hanging around the awesome me (not the one that i hadn't noticed that i'd even become in the past year or so), its not too late to clean my act up, even if now, its only for myself.

but i do think that when you really feel someone is your soulmate, it always remains so. so because of this, that growth is inspired by them, even if it is now a hard road to take.