Projects of the present,

projecting into the future. - Sourdough has come and been eaten, but as promised, here is the one-year-old rye flour starter at it's bubbling peak. The line mark for the maximum rise, like a tide in the sand; the peak. Little bubbles, pockets of carbon dioxide or some other gas that this yeast could produce.... Continue Reading →

Spending time alone,

is part of social distancing and also human recovery. - Growing spring onions on my window sill and having eaten the kimchi that has fermented for about a week, it's time to begin another cooking project. There's ever more time now since friends and I have mutually agreed that from here on, 'go-out's will be... Continue Reading →

Strumming such pain,

with your fingers. Stranger to my eyes and killing me softly with such a song. - Kimchi is fermenting in my fridge, but I can't quite decide if a ziplock bag with as little air as possible, or some is better. Since we expect the baicai to ferment and carbon dioxide gas to be produced,... Continue Reading →

Layers, and making them

seeing them and thinking in them. - I spent about an hour or so today making yakgwa with my little sister. There are a couple of laws that govern oil splatters: The first is that oil only splatters when humans are close. The second is that they only hit people where they are uncovered, evidenced... Continue Reading →

Sweet are the ixoras

like candied rose petals dipped in egg white then dried with caster sugar. - In the end, the hug wasn't even a real one after I complained and instead she offered to eat some of my fruit. My little sister asked me for a hug after she went, "Ooh! Chupa-chups! s'thankies." Such is our relationship... Continue Reading →

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