Free range chicken

I am a tender hearted person, really. I blink back tears when reading sad stories, watching advertisements designed to tug at the heartstrings, and go to great lengths to avoid maybe possibly slightly hurting someone's feelings.

On the phone, my mum was telling me about this show she had been watching. 'Jamie's Fowl Dinners' had arrived in Australia.

I don't like watching or hearing about animals suffering on their journeys to become food. You might say that I am wilfully ignorant. But there was no way I could ignore it this time because it was my mum telling me.

She said, 'Did you know that chickens only grow for 42 days before they're killed to be eaten? They grow up in cages and there's not enough room for them to stand up. Because they don't stand, they never grown bones properly. Their bones can't even carry their own weight!'

'EEEE, stop it, waaah!' Tears were practically flowing down my face as I imagined the poor chickens, too fat and weak to stand up in the crowd.

'Isn't that interesting?' mum marvelled. 'I never knew!'

'I wish they could grow chickens without brains,' I lamented. 'Just chicken bits that aren't connected to feelings.' Perhaps for some people, a chicken-sized brain is small enough to not worry about the chicken's feelings.

Chicken is my favourite meat but I could no longer plead ignorance. From now on, I will only buy free range chicken. I already buy free range eggs.

Last week, I was proud of myself because to make sauteed chicken breasts with olive and caper sauce, I went straight to the fridge cabinet with the free range chickens. I didn't even glance at the standard chickens.

I am lucky that I like leg pieces (thigh and drumstick) more than chicken breast. Chicken breast is very, very expensive. The free range variety is around £10 for two pieces. I used to buy chicken around once a month. To manage the extra cost, I will probably continue buying at the same frequency but smaller amounts.

Loitering with cheese

With Damjan back in Melbourne, I have been left to entertain myself on the weekends. There is a little Saturday farmers market near my house, which I had not yet visited during my first nine months of living here. I finally got around to it and was really pleased with all the yummy food stalls.

One of the stalls was selling goat's cheese. They had around 10 different samples to try. I am a sucker for food samples. I first tried the black pepper goat's cheese. Then, the chilli goat's cheese. Then a piece of cheese that looked like chocolate, which turned out to be chocolate, planted there to occupy children while their parents tried the more sophisticated cheese samples.

'Hmm,' I murmured. 'Yum!' I nodded approvingly.

And then, without realising it, I had gone beyond the 'acceptable time period one can loiter in front of a food stall without buying something'. So sheepishly (haha), I bought a round of garlic and herb goat's cheese. I also ended up buying a giant slice of almond orange cake and a round of sourdough.

Although the cheese round wasn't large, I did not think I could consume it within the two days, as recommended by the stall holder. Luckily, my favourite cook book of 101 one-pot dishes came to the rescue with 'Chicken with Goat's Cheese'.

I went to Sainsbury's to buy chicken, tarragon and vine-ripened tomatoes. I was lucky. Vine-ripened tomatoes were half price.

I was less fortunate with the chicken. A few days before, I had resolved to buy free range chicken only. All my ethical friends did this, and I wanted to be ethical too! Alas, the 'normal' battery caged chicken meat was on sale and it was a sixth of the price of the free range meat. I could not bring myself to pay that much extra. It was a lot of money. I felt pained. So I bought the remains of the sad chickens.

(I have since gotten back on the free range chicken bandwagon but that is another story.)

Now that I've done 'Chicken with Goat's Cheese', I am now 15% through the 101 recipes.

Frozen lettuce

The last step for my taco dinner was to chop some lettuce. My heart sank as I pulled the head of lettuce out of its bag. The green leaves glittered with a grainy shininess -- ice. The fridge had frozen my lettuce.

Not too hopeful, I peeled two leaves off and ran them under the tap to wash them. As the frozen burst cells warmed up, the leaves melted into a green ooze. Sighing, I squeezed the water out and put the ooze and the head of lettuce into the bin.

Luckily, I had a backup cucumber.

Unfinished business

Last week, I lamented not getting around to cooking 'Greek salad, stuffed peppers, Mapo tofu or sausages in chilli tomato sauce'.

This week, I managed to make:

• Greek salad
  
• Mapo tofu with turkey mince, capsicum and mushroom, topped up with passata (sieved tomatoes)
  
• Stir-fried broccoli and green capsicum with oyster sauce
  
• Sausages and omlette of mushrooms, red capsicum and parsley

I've also insured myself against the risk of not having any food to eat. In the freezer, I have spinach curried rice, sausages, and pork dumplings. It's a nice change from not having a freezer (and microwave) last year.

Past my bedtime on a Sunday night

Bad habits I've picked up

• Salting food before tasting it
  
• Chewing gum

I'm looking forward to dinner tomorrow. To celebrate coming out on top after some busy weeks, our team is having Mexican food at Covent Garden.

What I got done this weekend

• Went to the gym twice
  
• Booked accommodation for my upcoming trip to Germany
  
• Cooked 'quick meatball casserole' from my favourite recipe book. Tonight's dish plus 'oven baked risotto' takes me up to 14% of the 101 recipes.
  
• Roasted herbed chicken and potatos (with paprika)
  
• Did a mega grocery shop
  
• Researched and bought an MP3 player
  
• Cleared my inbox

Things I didn't get done

• Tidy my room
  
• Make Greek salad, stuffed peppers, Mapo tofu or sausages in chilli tomato sauce (but I bought the ingredients)
  
• Laundry and ironing
  
• Getting my hair cut
  
• Finish reading Guns, Germs and Steel
  
• Process all the photos from my Chinese New Year weekend.

A new year

Hobbies by the wayside
I've become rusty at blogging, diary writing, taking photos and writing social emails. The time I used to spend doing those things is now spent:

a) commuting
b) cooking
c) working
d) hanging out with Damjan
e) relaxing
f) going to the gym

I would like to keep up blogging, diarying, taking photos and emailing. I guess I'll have to find ways to make other parts of my life more efficient so that I can do what's important to me.

This week might be a difficult one. I have a rather important report to write by the end of the week. I can do it but the amount of writing that needs to be done might mean late nights in the office. The only bad thing about this, really, is that it threatens my fledgling exercise routine.

Going to the gym
I've joined gyms before and have fallen off the bandwagon after a few months. This year, I'm going to try to go to the gym at least three times a week. Without a routine, I stop exercising. This makes me feel guilty.

I'm enjoying the gym, actually. It's a good way to relax and not think about very much. The only negative is that I end up having dinner at 9 PM, which is quite late.

Eating
So that I can come home and eat dinner immediately, usually I cook a big batch of food on the weekend. Last week, I made 'Ants climbing up trees'. This week, Damjan and I made a noodle soup. It is definitely convenient to have dinner already made but by the end of the week, I am usually sick of it.

Not a sheep

Add another run to the scoreboard!

Tonight, Di and I cooked 'oven baked risotto' from my favourite cookbook. It was very tasty. We fried bacon, onion and a bit of butter. Then we poured in the cherry tomatoes, white wine, and chicken stock and stuck it in the oven. Our oven is slow so it took 40 minutes instead of 20. But it got done, and we mixed in the parmesan.

I think I am a little tipsy from finishing the rest of the wine bottle.

Including the chilli I cooked earlier this week, this brings me up to 14 out of 101 recipes in the cookbook.

For lunch, I went to Matt and Rachel's house for Matt's birthday BBQ. I ate an ostrich burger. I've always wanted to eat an ostrich burger, ever since I saw it being sold at the Cambridge market. I also ate a giant slice of cake.

Nearly everyone at the party was Australian. There are a lot of Australians in the UK. I feel kind of like a sheep, especially now that I'm going to work in London. I feel like saying, 'I'm not a sheep! I came here by accident! I'm here because I mean it, not because it's the done thing!'

Broccoli lemon mushroom

I invented something yummy today. Well, actually, I took the 'broccoli lemon chicken' recipe in my 101 one-pot dishes book and replaced the chicken with mushrooms. I have cooked it with chicken before but did not have any tonight. Anyway, this (plus rice) should feed two small people or one big person.

• 1 tbsp oil (I used sesame oil, how extravagant)
  
• Three mushrooms (I used white ones about 5 cm diameter)
  
• 2 garlic cloves, sliced
  
• 170 g broccoli, cut into little trees
  
• 200ml chicken stock (I used 3/4 of a stock cube)
  
• 1/2 tsp cornflower
  
• 1/2 tbsp honey
  
• Grated zest and juice of 1 small lemon
  
• Large handful of roasted cashews (I used unsalted)
  
• Salt to taste

1. Heat the oil in a frying pan or wok, fry garlic quickly, then add broccoli. Stir fry for about two minutes then cover for maybe three minutes.
   
2. Add mushrooms, stir fry for a minute, cover for another minute (dash upstairs to check your email).
   
3. Mix the stock, cornflour and honey. Pour into pan and stir until thickened (takes longer than you expect).
   
4. Add lemon zest, juice and cashew nuts. Stir, then serve straight away.

I really like this recipe book, it's so student-practical and has nice food porn.

Out of the 101 recipes, I have made (or been inspired by):

1. Broccoli lemon chicken
   
2. Chicken biryani
   
3. Turkish lamb pilau
   
4. Prawn pilau
   
5. Spicy prawn and chorizo rice
   
6. Potato and mozzarella tortilla
   
7. Curried rice with spinach
   
8. Greek salad omlette
   
9. Macaroni cheese with mushrooms
   
10. Oven egg and chips
    
11. Spicy lamb with chickpeas
    
12. Hob-to-table moussaka

Twelve out of 101 is almost 12%. That's pretty good, considering that many people buy recipe books and don't cook anything out of them!

English dinner for one

You can tell when I'm lonely solitary because I'll post something about cooking. When I'm not interacting with people, I'm at home, cooking, which is why there are no other stories to entertain you with.

Without planning it, I cooked myself a very English dinner tonight. Di left me pork and apple sausages from our barbecue on the weekend -- she's in Florence this week so I'm making sure the food isn't wasted.

For dinner, I grilled two sausages and made potato mash (seasoned with salt, a bit of milk, mixed herbs and paprika). I have paid £8 for a meal like this at The Big Bang.

But wait! There's more! ...Dessert!

I had some bread past its use-by date, so I made bread and butter pudding based on this recipe, but scaled it down by a third and used diced apple because I have no raisins or sultanas.

Interestingly, while I was chopping and mixing and mashing, my eyes kept drooping. I was very sleepy, even though it was only 6 PM. Normally, I wake up if I'm doing something but I must have been tired because when I finished eating and washing up, I flopped into bed and slept for an hour.

Bread and butter pudding with apple

Feeds...four?

• 4 slices of bread (from my pantry: wholemeal)
  
• Small, erm, handful of soft butter
  
• 330 mL milk (from my fridge: skim)
  
• 1 medium sized apple, diced (from my fridge: cox apple -- really nice, never had it before I came to England)
  
• 1 large egg, beaten (from my fridge: free range)
  
• 2.5 tbsp sugar
  
• 1/2 tsp vanilla essence
  
• 1/4 tsp cinnamon

1. Butter one side of each slice of bread. Butter a loaf tin.
   
2. Line loaf tin with bread (you will need to cut the slices into thirds). Save three thirds of bread slice to use as the cover.
   
3. Mix in a bowl the milk, apple, egg, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon.
   
4. Pour the mixture into the loaf tin. Sink the remaining bread slices into the middle.
   
5. Pre-heat the oven to gas mark 3 (170°C: 325°F). Let the tin sit for about 20 minutes.
   
6. Bake the cake until it is 'golden brown' or 'not too gloopy'. Mine took a long time, about an hour. The recipe reckons it should take half an hour.

Food for the weekend

Last Thursday night, I was sitting on the grass chatting with my friends until midnight. Spring had come and the night was warm.

Now, it's pouring with rain. I'm bundled up in my goosedown puffer jacket (sometimes called a 'duvet jacket' or 'fashion travesty').

The good thing about the rain is that it helps me stay inside to read dozens of journal articles (oh my god, there are so many).

Damjan came to Cambridge this weekend and we happily did not much. A friend came over to cook Turkish lamb pilau with us, with strawberries for dessert. We also watched Iron Chef, Giant Lobster Battle. Iron Chef is the best.

Turkish Lamb Pilau

• 500 g lamb, chopped to mouthful size
  
• Small handful of pine nuts
  
• 1 tbsp olive oil
  
• 1 large onion, sliced
  
• 2-3 cups rice (the recipe book says 250 g rice but I just added enough until it looked all right)
  
• 500 mL stock (I used chicken but lamb or vegetable is better, apparently)
  
• Handful of minut, chopped
  
• Some cinnamon (I shook the bottle three times. The recipe suggests two cinnamon sticks).
  
• Salt and pepper to taste

1. Lightly fry pine nuts without oil. Remove from pan.
   
2. Fry onion and cinnamon in oil until transparent.
   
3. Add lamb. Fry until browned.
   
4. Add rice. Fry for a minute. Add stock.
   
5. Simmer with lid on for 15 minutes or until rice is soft. You might need to add more water.
   
6. Mix in pine nuts and mint.

We served it with cherry tomatoes, grated cucumber in yogurt ('tzatziki'), grated carrot in yogurt ('carrot tzatziki'), and cloudy apple juice. We had stuffed olives too but I forgot to take them out of the fridge. More for me, then.

Potato and reduced fat mature cheddar frittata

I cooked something yummy from my favourite and only cookbook: 101 One-pot Dishes. It was originally 'potato and mozzerella frittata' and it fed 6 people. I adapted it to make 'potato and reduced fat mature cheddar frittata', which fed one person.

• 1 tbsp vegetable oil
  
• 2 small-medium potatoes, sliced
  
• 2 eggs, beaten with 1 tsp salt
  
• 1 tomato, sliced
  
• grated cheese
  
• pepper to taste

1. Fry potatoes with oil for five minutes.
   
2. Spread potatoes across the base of the pan. Pour over the eggs so that potatoes are covered. Simmer for 15-20 minutes.
   
3. Add tomato slices over the top. Sprinkle the shredded cheese.
   
4. Grill for five minutes. Add pepper to taste

Caponata di pork sausage

As is now semi-customary, Damjan and I had dinner at Food for Thought, a vegetarian restaurant on Neal Street in the Covent Garden district. They cook large quantities of a limited and daily varying menu. When it runs out, they cross it from the menu. The food is hearty, tasty, healthy and good value.

On Saturday, we were fed caponata di melanzane, (caponata of eggplant). It was soooo delicious. I looked up the recipe on the internet.

Today, I made my own variation -- caponata di salsiccia, if such a thing can exist. Instead of using eggplants, I used pork sausages.

*Serves one poor and hungry student*

• 2 tbsp olive oil
  
• 1/2 onion, chopped
  
• 1 clove garlic, chopped
  
• 1/2 fresh red chilli, sliced
  
• 2 lean pork sausages, chopped to bite size
  
• Small handful whole or chopped pitted black olives
  
• 400 g can chopped tomatoes
  
• 1 tsp Italian dried herbs (or mixed herbs or basil... whatever you like)
  
• Salt to taste

Fry garlic and onion until onion is soft. Add sausages and fry until light brown. Add chilli. Add chopped tomatoes. Simmer for some time (5-10 minutes?). Mix in olives and herbs. Simmer and add salt to taste.

Not a skint

I was doing a mega-shop at Sainsbury's. It was my turn to cook for our Sunday food group. The moussaka recipe called for one kilogram of lamb mince. As fortune would have it, I could buy 2x500g boxes of mince for £4, saving me 30 p!

I like budgeting, so receipts hold a special fascination. As I left the checkout I mused over it, trying to calculate how much I was spending to feed four people in grand style.

Then I saw:

Lamb mince        £2.15
Lamb mince        £2.15

Jibbed! I couldn't believe my eyes. Unlike the shops back home in Melbourne, Sainsbury's has never let me down before. Despite the constantly changing landscape of discounts, they've never gotten the price wrong... until now.

'It's only 30 p, Joan,' I said to myself. 'Let it go.'

I slowly started walking to the exit.

'It's a mistake. They should know that there's something wrong with their system,' my other self argued. 'Someone else might kick up a big fuss. You can save them the trouble.'

'It's 30 p!' I protested. 'Who else would complain? I'll look like a loser.'

'It's Sainsbury's job to deal with these things,' the other self replied. 'And you can buy a chocolate bar for 30 p.'

Before I knew it, I had done an about-turn and was headed to the customer service podium.

'Hi. Would you mind checking the lamb price?' I said, handing over my receipt. 'I think there was a special on it.'

The two assistants didn't bat an eyelid. 'Of course,' said the female. 'Peter, could you go down and check the lamb? Ma'am, do you have the item with you?'

Another Sainsbury's employee heard this as she walked by and stopped. 'The lamb? It should be £4 for two. Saving of 30 p.'

'So it's not recognising the code,' Peter said, examining the box of mince I had handed over. 'I'll have to fix that.'

They highlighted the mistake on my receipt, took a 20 p and 10 p coin out of the cash register and gave them to me.

'Sorry about that,' they said.

'That's okay,' I said. I was just happy that they hadn't made me feel like a skint.

Coming of age

I can no longer be called a bad cook. On Tuesday, I hosted a dinner party all by myself (with dishwashing support from Dino).

On the menu:

1. Herbed roast chicken -- Mum gave me instructions over the phone at 6:30 AM Australian time.
   
2. Spicy tomato salsa with fried eggs -- One of my favourite dishes from mum. It was the first time I've made it and it was perfect!
   
3. Stir-fried corn and beef -- We usually use pork but beef works well too.
   
4. Moroccan lamb and chickpea -- From a book Damjan gave me just before I left for Cambridge.
   
5. Maple syrup dumplings -- Kate gave me the recipe for golden syrup dumplings about five years ago. Di bought maple syrup this term so I commandeered it for this recipe. It worked fine.

I made rice and my guests brought salad and Christmas crackers. I think I fed seven people for about £20. Bargain!

Pathetic weakness is the mother of invention

As many will know, I'm not the sharpest tool in the kitchen. My mum winces whenever she watches me fumbling my way around the stove. I thought that I was getting better at cooking here in Cambridge but today, I returned to my clumsy self.

I had 350 g of mince left so I decided cook fettuccine bolognese. I've watched my mum do it before. It looked pretty easy, even for a kitchen klutz. To minimise the risk of disaster, I prepared and lined up all the ingredients on the bench before turning on the stove.

While the pasta simmered in one pot, I fried chopped onions and mince in a pan. "Almost done!" I thought. "Just add sauce."

I bought the jar of tomato and basil sauce just an hour ago. Placing my hand over the lid, I twisted. Ungh. Nothing happened. I took a deep breath, angled my hands further around the lid for greater leverage and twisted again. UNGH.

"Okay, Joan, don't panic. You probably just need a greater coefficient of friction."

I grabbed the red-and-white checked tea towel. Wrapping the it around the lid, I twisted again. The lid didn't budge.

"Um, um..." I could feel the old anxiety building up again. "It's a metal lid. I can run it under hot water and it'll expand more than the glass jar. It'll be easier to loosen, then."

I sat the jar under the hot water tap then tried opening it again.

"Noooooo! Why am I so weak?" I had the brains but not the brawn. In the mean time, I could almost hear the the pasta wilting, the onions burning and the mince rubberising over the heat.

"Stupid thing!" I thought grumpily. "What are you made out of?" I scanned over the ingredients.

"Hey, I have all of this stuff." I blinked a couple of times as an idea grew inside me.

I tried the jar a final time before giving up on it for real. Then, darting between my cupboard, the fridge and the communal spice collection, I pulled out a can of chopped tomatoes, my tube of tomato concentrate, the leftover half onion I had wrapped up before, dried basil, garlic powder, salt and sugar.

I threw it all into the pan and it began bubbling with satisfying vigour. Taste, add salt, sugar, more basil, more garlic, taste...

For the final touch, I chopped fresh chilli and poured it in. I tasted it. Wow! What a kick!

The meal was very tasty. And now, I don't need to buy tomato-based pasta sauces ever again!

Joan's cooking adventures 2

I'm so pleased -- I've been cooking!

Today, I invented a BBQ-flavoured fried rice. Then I fried an egg and garnished the meal with tomato and cucumber. It was very pretty.

I had an starter of oven-baked sweet potato chips. I bought a pack of sweet potatoes, sliced one potato and sprinkled the slices with salt and pepper. They were very tasty. Unfortunately, I burned myself on the hot oven tray :(

I made congee the other day, too.

As you might be able tell, there is a lot of leftover rice from a dinner party we had on Tuesday. The only things you can do with left over rice, really, are congee and fried rice.

An illustrated guide to my immediate world

I still haven't got a computer yet. I am writing from a special room at Cambridge, which has been set up for people on my scholarship. It's a really nice room. There are couches and tables, free newspapers, wired and unwired internet, a foose ball table and a free drinks vending machine. This is the first time I've been part of something that has translated to 'creature comfort privileges'. The previous scholarship holders tell us newbies that it is quite easy to pull rank here in Cambridge just by citing our funding body.

It sounds like my course is going to be intensive. I have classes from 6-8 PM on most Mondays and Thursdays. This wipes out many of the dance classes I wanted to get to. Oh well. I'm here to learn, not dance.

I've got some photos of where I'm living. I'm really pleased with the place. We have four people living in a reasonably large house. We've made friends with each other. In fact, I'm skipping a couple of social functions tonight so that I can hang out at home to cook with housemates.

Besides. I'm sick. I've got quite a nasty cold. A night at home will be better than one at The Cow, where there will be two for one cocktails.


This is my room. I have a 'large room' in a house, for which I'm paying about £90 a week. This seems expensive to me but there are others who are paying more.


Here is my bed in more detail. I brought the pillowcases, bedsheet and doona ('duvet') cover from Australia and bought the doona at Argos. Argos is a catalogue store; it sells almost everything you can't eat, at huge discounts to any other store. It can do this because it doesn't display any of the items in-store. Instead, you look through a big catalogue, pick out the item you want, put in the form and the store assistants bring it out to you.

I commented to an English student that this was a bizarre concept. She laughed because Argos had been in business her entire life so it seemed quite normal to her. My housemate, Alex, is from Norway. When I showed him around Argos, he was quite delighted. This is a form of shopping particularly suited to men: know your target, hunt and destroy. None of this time-wasting browsing stuff that girls are often keen on.


This is where I'll put the computer when I eventually get it. God, I hope it comes soon.

Note the Argos catalogue on the bottom shelf of the bookshelf.


This is where I keep most of my clothes. There isn't much space for clothes. It's a good thing I don't have many (for the first time in my life, I am not crippled by choice).

See all the bathroom products on the chest of drawers? I bought most of those in the first week of arriving. I discovered that shampoo and conditioner are very expensive in grocery stores like Sainsbury's. I am now a loyal patron of Boots, which is an English pharmacy superstore. I even have the loyalty card to prove it.


I brought quite a few pairs of shoes to Cambridge. I had an interesting time finding the blue pair during my second week here. I wanted to get shower footwear. In Australia, we call these 'thongs' but in the rest of the civilised world, a 'thong' is an underwear/swimwear g-string. I am now required to call these 'flip-flops'.


The kitchen is our house's communal space. We often stand around here talking to each other. For a week, we were limited to using the stove top only because none of us knew how to operate a gas oven. We ended up having to ask the domestic bursar. Quite a few people laughed at me when I told them this.

Because we've worked out how to light the oven, we're going to cook home-made pizza tonight.


This is me cooking chorizo pasta. It turned out really well. As a result, my housemates think I can cook. I will see how long I can maintain this charade.


This is our first house dinner. Most days of the week, though, we go have dinner at the college dining room. Everyone at Cambridge belongs to a college. I chose my college because people told me it has the best and cheapest food. I have not been disappointed. It costs me around £2 to eat dinner at college (about AU$5.20), which is very cheap in England.


We have a big backyard, which has become a bicycle parking lot. I bought a bike a few days ago. I'm not sure I like having a bike. You have to park it, lock it, look after it. It reminds me of having a car. I haven't had a car for more than a year now. Almost every student at Cambridge has a bike. As a consequence, there is a strong support industry in bike lock sales and bike insurance.

One evening, we pulled out the kitchen chairs and sat in the darkness of the backyard. Di lit some candles for us to sit around. There is now a pool of wax.


This is absolutely one of the best things about our house: location, location, location! We live on the 'ethnic' road of Cambridge. I have found three Chinese grocery stores on this road. There are also stores and restaurants featuring Indian, Algerian, Turkish, Greek, Brazilian, Korean, Japanese and vegetarian food, second-hand bookstores, wine stores, and supermarkets that open late. It takes me about six minutes to ride to the Engineering department, seven minutes to get to the centre of town and half a minute to the nearest doctor (who I visited this morning and who agreed with my self-diagnosis that I have a cold).


I took this photo early yesterday morning. Goodbye for now!

Domestic Goddess

I made fried rice! I made fried rice! All by myself! (except for Leonie telling me what to do.) Mum would be so proud. I'm so pleased. It looks like mum's fried rice. I took photos to prove to show mum when she comes back.

Look mum! No recipes!

*wide grin*

Joan's recipe for fried rice

• Leftover rice (up to one week old)
  
• Leftover bolognese sauce
  
• Leftover sausage
  
• Frozen peas
  
• Frozen corn
  
• Egg, beaten
  
• Leftover dumpling sauce (soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, chilli, sesame oil)

1. Fry sausage in a spoonful of oil.
   
2. Add peas and corn. Take mixture out of pan.
   
3. Fry beaten egg. Add to previous mixture.
   
4. Fry bolognese sauce.
   
5. Add rice.
   
6. Add egg/corn/peas/sausage mixture.
   
7. Taste. If too bland, add dumpling sauce to taste

Joan's cooking adventures

"I don't know what to do for Father's Day," I lamented to Natalie during morning tea at work.

"Why don't you make him something?"

I brightened. Yeah. Yeah! I could bake dad a cake. Dad likes chocolate. I'll bake him a chocolate mud cake! With my lack of kitchen experience widely known, nothing would be more special than baking dad a cake from scratch.

On Saturday morning, I walked to the shops, clutching my internet print-out recipe. I managed to find everything except marsala. What's marsala? Some kind of cheese, I suppose. Oh wait. I need two tablespoons of it. It must be a liquid. Maybe it's a cream cheese.

I spent five minutes wandering up and down the dairy refrigerators, looking for something with the word 'marsala' in it. Nothing. Finally, I pulled out my mobile phone and called Damjan.

"Good morning, Damjan! I'm in the supermarket. I'm baking a cake for dad but I can't find something called marsala. I think it's a kind of cheese..."

"Marsala? [slight pause] It's a wine. A sweet wine. Anything fortified will do."

Wine??

I went home and read the recipe over lunch. To minimise my unco-ness, I memorised it. At 2:30 PM, I decided I was ready.

Slowly, I began chopping the chocolate. I mixed up the first stage batter. "Cook over simmering water", it said. So I filled a wok with water then floated the pot in the simmering water.

I managed to go through the recipe without any mistakes and with no help from mum, who had run away from the kitchen so that she wouldn't have to watch my clumsiness. I only had to ask her opinion once.

"Mum, I need three and a half eggs. What should I do?"

"...Just use four eggs."

What kind of recipe asks for three and a half eggs, you ask? Well, the internet recipe required 262.5 mL of cream. Yet the bottle I bought contained 300 mL. I didn't want to have 37.5 mL of cream left over. So I did the only logical thing. I increased all the quantities by 14% so that I could use all the cream. Which is why I needed 3.42 eggs.

The whole baking exercise took three hours. I went out in the evening, came back at 2:30 AM and complete the cake with frosting ("ganache") and cocoa dusting. Then I had to wash the pots and pans. What can I say, it was a late night.

The next morning, I bounced out of bed. Proudly, I served dad a slice of mud cake garnished with strawberries. "Happy Father's Day!" I said.

"That looks pretty good, Joan. Did you use all Home Brand ingredients?"

"Da-ad! Do you know I cost $99 an hour? This is an expensive cake!"

The cake turned out wonderfully. If you visit me before Tuesday, you can try a piece.

Joan's recipe for rich chocolate mud cake

• 205 g butter
  
• 228 mL thickened cream
  
• 0.38 cup castor sugar
  
• 0.285 cup brown sugar
  
• 319 g dark chocolate, chopped
  
• 2.28 tsp instant coffee
  
• 2.28 tbsp Chinese ginger cooking wine (or marsala, if you must)
  
• 3.42 eggs
  
• 1.14 cup plain flour
  
• 0.57 cup self-raising flour
  
• 0.57 cup cocoa
  
• 171 g dark choclate, extra
  
• 0.285 cup thickened cream, extra
  
• extra cocoa for dusting
  
• strawberries for garnishing

1. Combine the butter, cream, sugars, chocolate, coffee and ginger wine in a heat proof bowl.
   
2. Cook over simmering water, stirring regularly until smooth.
   
3. Allow to cool completely. Wash the cooking tools.
   
4. Beat in the eggs and fold in the sifted flours and cocoa.
   
5. Pour into a buttered and lined pan about 14% bigger than a 22 cm pan, and bake for about 46 minutes in a fan-forced oven at 152°C.
   
6. Cool. Wash the cooking tools.
   
7. Combine the extra chcolate and cream in a heat proof bowl.
   
8. Cook over simmering water, stirring until smooth.
   
9. Refrigerate until cool.
   
10. Remove cake from oven. Cool. (I thought it was, anyway.)
    
11. Go out to a party. Come back nine hours later.
    
12. Take the ganache out of the fridge. Poke it. Realise you've stuffed up because the thing's set. Put it in the microwave for 20 seconds to soften it.
    
13. Dust heavily with the cocoa in one corner. Try to spread the cocoa around the cake with a bread knife.
    
14. Wash the cooking tools.
    
15. Go to bed. I said, go to bed!

(Click here for the original recipe.)

Cooking up a milestone

While in Tasmania, I made some decisions. I decided to make noodle soup. I bumbled around the supermarket and made my friends pay for carrot, mushroom, lettuce, pork mince, eggs and chilli. Back at the hostel, I directed my kitchen hands, "Cut the carrots to yea big." I chose a pot. I guessed the order the ingredients went into the boiling water.

And all this while, I was marvelling at my decision-making. I have never guessed my way through a meal before, let alone had kitchen hands who behaved as if I had some sort of authority. It was... quite thrilling. I was mimicking what I saw my mum do in the kitchen every day. Cooking this meal made me feel more like an adult than organising the administrative details of this holiday. Strange, eh?

Do not be fooled, though. This newfound decision-making-prowess has done nothing to change my "Kitchen Klutz" status. On that night, I exploded dried noodles onto the stove and cracked a raw egg all over the bench. My kitchen hands swooped to clean the mess without batting an eyelid.

The meal was a success, although there wasn't enough salt.

Today, we made home-made pesto pasta. Even though I was the one who chopped the basil, crushed the pinenuts, added the cheese, sprinkled the salt and pounded it all together, Damjan was clearly the chef. "That looks right now, Joan. Now we'll pour in the olive oil." He made all the decisions -- I was provided little more than mechanical power.

So, I have concluded that nearly all the "work" in cooking is in the decision-making.

I achieve another lifetime milestone tomorrow. It will be my first day in my post-uni related-to-my-degree full-time job. I am ascending the ranks of adulthood!

...What am I going to wear?