asentencefragment has moved...

Hey guys,

I've moved my blog over to here:  http://asentencefragment.net/

This one will be removed once I get the chance to bring it all down.

Cheers,
D

The Zucchini has sprouted!

It is quite remarkable that it was a pot a of dirt all this week and then yesterday morning I spotted a hint of sprout (middle image) and by the time I was home they were above the surface (last image).

Productive gardening

Repotted basil plant.

Soon to be zucchini.

When I think about what I would like in a dream house, a vegetable and herb garden are always featured. I like productive gardens, but until now I had never had a place to really grow one. My inner city apartment in Spring Hill had a small front garden, but it wasn't really suitable for a vegie patch - plus it was communal. I had at one point or another considered putting pots on my back stairs, but it was street facing and I always worried about what would happen to any property I left out there.

Soon to be tomatoes.

When I lived in Perth I dabbled a little on the gardening front, I had a tomato plant for a while, mostly due to me putting the scraps from my kitchen in the garden of the small courtyard style garden I had and tomatoes seem to bloom so easily. But I didn't have the know-how and tools to keep insects from eating it. I also planted some carrots briefly, but the Perth desert soil is so sandy that sometimes it's difficult to get things to grow in it. In the end I resorted to natives and left it at that.


We don't exactly have the best garden where we are now, the owner has fashioned some sort of pond lagoon and rock formation out of the small back garden and put a spa in the corner (which is covered and we're not allowed to use). The front garden would be the most ideal place to start a vegie patch and we're fenced from the street, but that would require erecting some kind of garden bed onto the grass and I somehow think that would be frowned upon. 

Chilli plant - was a little wilted
yesterday from being in the car
but he's bounced back this morning.

So yesterday I decided that if I really wanted a small vegie/herb patch it would have to be pots on the deck. I headed off to Bunnings and got everything required to get started.


I repotted a little basil plant that had been sitting in my kitchen but couldn't last too much longer in it's little pot and then added a few others to the collection.

Foodie weekend

It was over dinner with Gloria at Peasant on Friday night that I realised how much I missed having her in my life. Gloria was only seconded in Brisbane for eight months in 2007, but we formed a solid friendship in that short time and, as she said, it has never changed; even when we haven’t spoken for a while.

Gloria’s family is Greek so she we’ve had similar upbringings and bond over understanding what it’s like to grow up in a Mediterranean family where food is a big part of your life. I have very few friends who have the food knowledge and enthusiasm that Gloria does. And any friend who is only too happy to order an espresso at 10.30pm and still not have it affect her sleep is good in my books.

Most of Saturday was spent at the James Street Cooking School, cashing in a gift voucher that friends of mine had given me for my 30^th birthday. One of the most enjoyable experience I’ve had in a long time, the hands-on class was a fun, relaxed atmosphere with all 15 of us there to learn some new skills.

The menu given to us on the day was:

·         pesto crusted swordfish with ratatouille and cannellini beans

·         nicoise salad with herb and lemon marinated chicken

·         poached pears in kataifi pastry with almond and mascarpone.

It started off with us sitting against one wall, each given the recipe of the dishes we would be cooking, and watching the chef demonstrate how to pick fresh seafood in the store. They also went through the usual OH&S, basic knife skills and a quick rundown of some of the more difficult components of our dishes.

Pesto crusted swordfish
with ratatouille

After that we shuffled off into three groups of five to begin, we decided to divvy up the workload and have everyone creating different dishes, helping each other when there was waiting time or if we had questions, while the two chefs shuttled back and forth giving us tips, answering our questions and generally keeping the atmosphere fun.

As someone who does not eat seafood and has never been a fan, I was interested to see how I’d go at cooking swordfish — a protein I knew very little about — and even more curious about whether I was going to like it. Turns out, I love it.

Once all our dishes were complete and neatly presented on service dishes, we put our pears in the oven and seated ourselves at the large dining table and enjoy the fruits of our labour. The swordfish didn’t taste fishy at all and practically melted in my mouth. I was converted. If I can find other fish that give equal enjoyment I’ll be ordering seafood more often.

Though, I still think the pears were my favourite. I absolutely adore poached pear, add some mascarpone to that and wrap it in some kataifi pastry and I was sold.

Nicoise salad with herb and
lemon marinated chicken

Inspired to do some more cooking (something that had waivered this week with only me at home), I went to pick up Gloria to come stay at our place for the rest of the weekend. After a quick tour of the Church, we collapsed in the lounge with cook books and discussed recipes for the rest of the afternoon. Eventually, my better half came home and put up with our further chatter about food through afternoon coffee; through evening wine; then later, through our vegetarian wood fired pizza and bottle of wine.

We gave him some respite the next day by going off to the movies (before which we had muffins, bagels and cream cheese which is, let’s face it, more cream than cheese).

Sadly, before I knew it the movie was over and I had to drive my friend out to the airport and say a sad farewell.  -sniff-

Poached pear in kataifi pastry
with almond and mascarpone

When I got home, I found the boy and his friend drinking beer out on the deck and, just in case I didn’t feel like I’d had enough food all weekend, we went to the pub for a Sunday session and big pub meal. This of course, called for a siesta at 4pm with me topping off the weekend by watching the semi-final of My Kitchen Rules with a chocolate Easter egg.

Possibly the most exciting part of the weekend was me jumping on the scales, against my better judgement, ready to face the music only to discover I’d lost 400 grams after my foodie weekend. Best diet ever.

I Am Legend by Richard Matheson

I first became aware of this novel in 2000 when, instead of doing my assignment on Jane Austen, I was listening to a CD interview and story reading with Stephen King. In which he was asked who some of his influences were in the author world, and he announced that he was very much a fan in of Richard Matheson's I Am Legend.

When he described the novel it sounded very much like something I would enjoy and I made a mental note to read it one day, perhaps after I graduated uni and could read again for pleasure, rather than pushing forward with my English, Creative Writing and Journalism degree.

Fast forward to 2007, I remember being in the cinema and seeing a preview for the latest movie adaptation of I Am Legend and before the title showed up I had thought to myself 'this story line seems oddly familiar' and went back later to check that the novel I had remembered wanting to read was of the same title. It was.

Anyway, I've always put off seeing the movie, mostly because I'm not a Will Smith fan, and also because I wanted to read the story without bias. Now that I have I'm curious to see how the movie portrays the book. Poorly, it seems from the reviews, but I still plan to make up my own mind.

It's only taken me twelve years to get my hands on the book, but I've finally read it (lesson here, kids, always keep a 'to read' list - very handy). I really loved this story, it's a novella rather than a novel, though Matheson's book does contain other horror stories, much shorter but with the same isolated subtext as I Am Legend.

The story is interesting as our protagonist, Robert Neville, isn't a hero, but is merely surviving and his existence almost seems useless and without purpose. We also learn very little about Neville before the plague, but are thrown nuggets of information through his memories which still leave me unsatisfied. But I guess the essence of true horror is not the story of the all-American overcoming all odds, but being forced to accept what has become and learning to deal with it.

Definitely worth giving this story 5 pints of blood.

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

Way back in 2004, which seems a lifetime ago now, I was working in London and had started a new contract with a very large financial investment firm who were transitioning to outsource their customer service to India. They brought in 12 contractors (me included) to learn the system, test it for problems and ultimately train the new customer service officers flying in from India.

I made very good friends with one of the other contractors and we remained friends long after the job came to an end. Anyway, I remember her raving about this book and insisting that I read it. I never did get around to it until a week and a half ago when it was pegged as our next member of book club choice in our second book to read.

The Kite Runner is Khaled Hosseini's first novel, which he wrote while working a doctor, no less. An incredibly moving and electric novel that kept me up at nights and had me nearly missing bus stops because I was so engrossed in the story.

It's the tale of two young Afghan's who grew up in the pre-Soviet Union invasion, only to part ways once Afghanistan turns into a war zone. Unlike a lot of other novels that arc over the large life span of a character's life, The Kite Runner moves along at good pace never leaving you bored.

I was entranced the entire journey and this was the first novel that actual made me shed a tear in a long time.

Khaled Hosseini has started a foundation that supports and builds shelter in Afghanistan for returning refugees. It also provides education and healthcare for women and children in a country where women have lost their rights as a result of Taliban dictatorship. Read more about The Khaled Hosseini Foundation.

Such an incredible writer and engaging book, I'm keen to read his second novel A Thousand Splendid Suns.

If you haven't read The Kite Runner, I put it on my most highly recommended books for 2012.

Hell's Angels by Hunter S Thompson

I'm a bit of a Hunter Thompson fan, so thought it was get across this one. An interesting insight into the lives and culture of the Hell's Angels circa 1960-70s.

Possibly the only journalist crazy enough to live, ride and write about the Hell's Angels on their own terms, and coping his fair share of brawls in the mean time, Thompson writes his accounts of his time with America's, once most feared, outlaws.

Written from a journalists perspective, Hunter goes into detail about the contrasts between what was written in the media and political reports compared to the facts of the fraternity at the time.

Hunter certainly doesn't paint the Angels as anything more than they are, but presents the facts based on what he knew first hand.

Very interesting read.

(I'm now up-to-date on my books from this year - until I finish the five chapters I have left on my current book that is.)

Book Club - Month 1: A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan

So when Sara and Nick, who had moved to Sydney a year ago, announced they were moving back to Brisbane, I jumped on the chance to resurrect book club. Previously, it had just been the four of us: me, Sara, Tiff and Rachel - this time Rachel didn't want any part of it, so we started looking around for fresh blood.

We arranged a first 'meet up' at a bar for drinks after work to meet everyone and decide on how we were going to run book club. Everything looked rather promising with the three of us, Claire (a friend of Sara's who drifts in and out of our lives but mostly makes a living out of working overseas as a camp counsellor and sled dog trainer - although currently she's working as a teacher's aid on Thursday Island), Michelle (an old work friend of Sara's) and another possible friend who ended up choosing not to come.

Every time someone wants to bring a new woman into the book club it's always prefaced with, 'She's childless... by choice!' which is always a bonus for us, since we're all childless by choice also and want to be around more people in the same boat.

Anyway, everyone decided we should kick off with my book, A Visit from the Goon Squad. I got wind of this book via The First Tuesday Book Club on the ABC, which is one of my television guilty pleasures. I chose this one because it was one of the few books I've seen all panel members say they loved. Here's snapshot of the segment.

While I did enjoy this book, it puzzled me why it was a Pulitzer Price winner. The first half was a bit of a struggle, because each chapter is about a different character at different moments in time, and everyone agreed that we all kept trying to make the connections. By half way you stop trying to make those connections and just enjoy the story.

I galloped through the second half, especially loving the chapter where the daughter of one of the main characters keeps a 'slide journal'. It was engaging and different and equally as powerful in it's story telling as prose would have been. In fact, more so because the visual representations of the PowerPoint's aided her story.

This was the type of book that once I finished the last chapter I immediately wanted to read it over from the start. All book club members said exactly the same thing. Very few books ever have that affect.

Highly recommended read.

Chasing Bohemia by Carmen Michael

I saw this author some years ago at the Brisbane Writers Festival and found her fascinating to listen to. It was probably the first writers festival I went to shortly after I moved here. I remember it being an exciting one because there were a lot of travel focused topics and travel writing guests on panels and I was about to take off to South America.

Unfortunately, this book had sat on my shelf for a number of years since that festival, unopened. A few times I cracked the cover and tried to make a go of it, but I always ended up discarding it for another book I was more into at the time. You know what they say about a good opening.

But after my last book, We Need to Talk About Kevin, I needed something light, something frothy, something... Brazilian. We are in the height of summer after all, and with the salsa music in my ears, the tropical smoothie excursions I was taking at lunch times to Boost Juice and this book buzzing in my head, I slipped into extreme travel withdrawals.

While, not my favourite of the many travel literature I indulge in when I feel the need to do some armchair travelling, it certainly gave me an insight into the Brazilian culture and the fun of carnival. And again prompted that side of me who loves to up and leave her house, her job, her friends and life in general for that of one that fits into a backpack. I tried to focus on my new resolve to live on a much smaller percentage of my wage in order to get to my goal of taking a year off. Let me rephrase that (since I have taken years - more than that even - off before)... take a year off and not be broke and/or counting every penny. A planned year off with the funds to sustain me without concern.

I didn't power through Michael's book the way I have other travel literature, but I understood her viewpoint better than most because she was similiar in age to me at the time of writing this book and had also given up corporate jobs to basically become a bum in Rio de Janeiro. Okay, the people I admire probably says a lot about me, but even though I like my job I can't help but peer out the cubical grey window and think, 'Why am I even bothering with this when there's a whole big world out there I have yet to explore?'

We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver

I was a little behind in reading this infamous novel, but I felt I needed to be in the right frame of mind to tackle it. Turns out, there is no right frame of mind to read such a book. It's disturbing from the start and nearly every woman I've spoken to who has read it all same the same thing, 'It makes you think twice about having children'. I'm not sure if I totally agree with that statement, I think if you are having children for the right reasons, i.e. you want them, unlike our main character in this book, then this books shouldn't alter your decision.

Having said that, this book does bring up the question of nature vs nurture and leaves you with a lot of unanswered questions. There were times in this book where I just wanted to close the chapter and take a break, it was emotionally taxing and hats off to Shriver for coming up with such a unique and incredibly written book. Horrifying to read, yet addictive. I didn't want to know more, yet I couldn't help myself from continuing to turn the page and watching the horror unfold.

I think what is disturbing was how much I related to the mother in this book, though I like to think I wouldn't choose to have a child based on 'wanting to try something new'. Child birth doesn't strike me as an experience I desperately want to try 'just to see'. You don't have to fling yourself off a bridge to know it's going to hurt.

Having only just reconvened with book club I wish this had been on the list of books to discuss. I found myself at BBQs raising the subject with people who had read the book because I was desperate to hear what they thought of it all. Especially since Rich told me he didn't want to hear anything about this book and at 468 pages, it was in my life for a little while, with me busting to tell him all about it.

I saw the preview for the movie, but am less inclined to watch it since the characters don't look or act anything like I imaged. I'm also not sure I want some of those scenes realised in visual form, my imagination is frightening enough.

The Little Coffee Shop of Kabul by Deborah Rodriguez

When Richard saw me reading this, the first words out of his mouth were, 'Another coffee book?' While less informative on the actual coffee process, a much more enjoyable read than the previous coffee book.

Author Deborah Rodriguez, spent five years teaching at the Kabul Beauty School, the first modern beauty and training salon in Afghanistan, so brings a wealth of local knowledge to her writing. The characters and descriptions of the lifestyle of Kabul in this book are so rich and full of colour and gives us an inside into the life of the women behind the modern burqa. And also the lives of foreign women in the country and the contrast of freedom that the different women feel.

It's a wonderful story that touches on the politics, but doesn't dwell on it, rather allows it to become the backdrop for the individual lives that meet in Sunny's coffee shop and how five very different personalities can form a strong and united bond.

The Devil's Cup by Stewart Lee Allen

Over the summer I've been doing a lot of reading and not very much writing (not in this blog anyway — my day job still keeps me busy), so I'm now taking the time to sit down and update on the pages my nose has been stuck in.

'The Devil's Cup' is Stewart Lee Allen's journey into the history of coffee, from it's beginnings in Ethiopia, through the Middle East and eventually filtering through Europe and the rest of the western world. I was sold on this author's integrity when he travelled two hours from Harrar to Jiga-Jiga for a cup of coffee, even after warnings from locals not to go for fear for his life. Sounded extreme... and like something I would do.

Admittedly, this wasn't quite the page turner I was anticipating — I did struggle through many of the chapters which leant to boredom of Allen's own personal journey on his travels to find out about coffee, however the history was interesting.

I think my favourite story was when he tells a story he heard about when the Ottoman's ruled, '...a woman could get a divorce from her husband if he failed to provide her with enough coffee beans for her needs.'

This, of course, was the part I choose to read out to the man in my life — I don't think he bought it though.