when a korean craves churros

June 02, 2014 in Food + Culture, photography

I looooooooooove theme parks. Hopefully that was sufficient elongation of the word to express the giddy excitement which overcomes me when I walk through the barricades and I enter into a world of thrilling rides, sweets, and pure fun. The thing is, theme parks have churros.

Thanks to my olfactory bulb, amygdala, hippocampus, conditioned responses and the rest of it, the smell of churros in the air immediately transports me to a happy place of fun and unending laughter. The sad fact is, we don't really have a proper-scale theme park in Sydney. Nor have I been able to find a place that does churros the way they're supposed to be done (no offence to all the chocolate cafes that have it on the menu; blame it on my hippocampus). Moreover, where there are churros, they're expensive. So I decided to make some myself, and tweak the typified recipe, Korean style. Presenting, rice cake churros.

Not only are they easy to make, they're so delicious, you'll find yourself smacking your lips and licking the sugar coated cinnamon from your fingers. All you have to do is buy long, thick rice cakes called 'ga-rae-ddok' (ddok = rice cake), half them, twist them, fry them, roll in cinammon and sugar, then gobble to your heart's content. Easy. Keep in mind that they're rice cakes, so they'll fill you up faster than your average churros. Koreans often fry the ga-rae-ddok and dip it in honey (this too is amaaaazing). I left a few without cinnamon coating so I could eat them the traditional way too.

In this case, I'd recommend you wash it down with a cup of yul-moo-cha (Job's tears tea; cha = tea). With a nutty consistency, it perfectly complements the cinnamon crunch which encases the chewy interior of this korean churro. On a rainy Sydney afternoon heralding the beginning of the winter months, this has been a perfect treat.

surf's up: Bondi

May 25, 2014

When the mercury hits 26 degrees on a Sydney weekend, in May nonetheless, you can't stay indoors all day. So we raced through all that needed to be done and jumped in the car. The unmistakable salty breeze and combination of thongs, surfboards and golden tans soon heralded our arrival to the rolling waves and bustling streets of Bondi. We were only able to stay for a little over half an hour, to see the sun announce its departure with pastel hues, but it was worth it. In fact, with sand under my feet and waves crashing onto the shoreline, my senses were so enticed and mesmerised, i failed to notice a larger wave incoming, and consequently became utterly soaked, waist down. I was wearing a leather skirt too. Poor skirt...

When I was in Borneo, after one spectacular fall down the exposed roots of a mossy tree, providing the guide with great entertainment; he claimed that I had the best falling technique that he had ever seen. That's right. I'm a talented faller. My co-ordination is questionable but my reflexes are excellent, thus I was able to protect my camera, though I retained a few scratches. It would have been much more painful had I dropped my camera. I like to dictate the circumstances of when I break up with my cameras. Dropped down a gorge is not a preferred example.

I digress. The point of the side story is, my camera didn't get wet, thanks to my reflexes. I know, long diversion, simple conclusion. Moving on. I love the sound of waves meeting shoreline. So much so, I like to go to sleep to that sound every night, which I am able to do, as my husband has downloaded an app that provides just that. The rhythm in nature's sounds provides such peace to the ears and heart, I go to sleep every night with a smile on my face.

The expectation from this spontaneous trip to Bondi wasn't a multitude of photographs, or any really, but I just had to capture some of the moments I didn't want to lose. So here they are.