Cooking with chilies

So I have a lovely crop of chilies on my chili plants - long orange ones, medium red ones and the hot orange Habaneros, but too many for one person to use (I think) even one who likes hot (ish) food. I also had an abundance of cherry tomatoes from my garden, even though I eat them as snacks. So it was time to find some preservable chili and tomato recipes.

My chilli crop.

Number 1 - the old staple Chili Jam. Great for use in Thai stir fries and noodle dishes like Pad Thai. Keeps well in the fridge for weeks if not months.

Recipe

oil for cooking
3 tbsp dried shrimp
7 long red chilies, chopped
20 Asian shallots, sliced
10 cloves garlic, sliced
3 tbsp tamarind puree
6 tbsp palm sugar (or less to taste)
1 tspn shrimp paste

Heat the oil, then cook the dried shrimp and chillies for several minutes.

Remove from heat and blend with the other ingredients in a food processor until a rough paste is made. Extra oil might be needed to make it liquid enough.

Return the blended contents to the saucepan, bring to the boil and cook for 30 mins or so until the mixture goes dark and thick, but be careful not to let it caramelize.

The cooked jam.

Number 2 - a new recipe for me Tomato and Chili relish.
The recipe can be found here. I took someone else's advice and halved the sugar content, and I think that will work better taste-wise. I also halved the vinegar content, as the vinegar sugar ratio affects the setting of the relish.

The cooked tomato and chili relish

 I'm not sure where I'll use this yet - perhaps on sandwiches or as part of a nice summer salad, but it tastes fantastic and spicy, in both a chili and a spices way.

The finished products.

Number 3 - Mango and chili sambal

Meant as a condiment to Indian dishes, this also makes a fantastic little tropical side salad.

For 1-2 people, take 1 mango and chop into diced squares. I usually just halve a mango, and dice it in the skin, then cut the skin off.
Add 1 teaspoon of freshly grated ginger, 1 tablespoon of chopped coriander leaves and 1 finely chopped long red chili. Mix well and enjoy.
This would probably be better with a slightly greener mango, but depends on your tastes.

Mango and chili sambal

Happy eating!

Getting creative...

The grey hooded figure walked quietly up the suburban street, avoiding the bright dome of light from the street light and hoping not to be seen. Not that they'd have noticed him anyway, he was not someone to stand out in a crowd.

‘It's a hot one tonight’, he thought to himself, ‘I might get lucky. People might get careless... open up to get a breeze.’ As if on cue, a slight, feeble breeze rose for a second, before limply dying off in the warm air, as the dull rumble of a plane on approach cut through the thick night air above him.

He paused in the shadows to survey the prospects. ‘Hmmm. Lights on in that one... that one’s crap... too many lights over there... maybe that place up the hill?’

He made his way cautiously up towards the old place for a closer look. It was a stylish old place, all wrought iron and timber, though perhaps not as modern as the newly renovated monstrosities around it. He could see the front light was on, and there didn’t seem to be any inside lights on, although some of the windows seemed a bit too black, somehow. He shrugged the thought off. ‘Oh well. Good start. They’re probably out for the night’.

An overgrown, narrow driveway hid his entry down the side of the house, as he crept around to look for a way in. ‘Score!’ he thought as he noticed the sliding window slightly open, just metres from where he stood.

‘Ok, I’m doing this one’, he decided. The adrenalin pumped in his chest as he psyched himself up now the decision was made. It never got any easier, no matter how many times he’d done it before. Anything could happen. He got himself steady, then made his way to the window, and slowly eased it open. He pulled himself up to the sill and eased one leg gently in the window.

Brrrrrringggggg. Brrrriiiinnnng. ‘Oh FUCK! Your fucking phone. You idiot! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’ He leaped from the window and bolted down the street.

‘Oh well, I guess they got lucky tonight’ Joel thought to himself, as he recovered his breath at the bottom of the street.

‘No’, thought the sinister shape at the upper window of the old house, ‘you got lucky my young friend’

Ugly or pretty, it's still my city

"Ugly or pretty, it's still my city", or so say Canadian popsters Hot Hot Heat in their song Get In Or Get Out, ... "...a song about loving where you live" according to lead singer Steve Bays.

And it's very fitting that they played this at Sunset Sounds in the City Botanic Gardens here in Brisbane just some days ago , as I'm sure it's a feeling that resonates with many Brisbanians this past week.

Like many Brisbanites, I've moved here from places south just 10 years ago, but despite it not being my "true" home city, I feel like it's my city. Whether it's the comforting homeliness of the place, the (perhaps now lost) ease of getting around or the historical myths and legends of the city - Joh and his cranes, the Deen Brothers (of Cloudland and Bellevue Hotel infamy), rampant police corruption or the '74 floods - it all adds up to a place that is comfortably familiar yet has a depth of history that can be almost visceral.

And one legend that has been potently in the air over the past 10 days is the '74 floods and the myths entangled around them:

      The "once-in-a-hundred-years" '74 floods.
      The "cant-happen-anymore" '74 floods.
      The "Wivenhoe-will-save-us-from-a-repeat" '74 floods.

      "Pop".
      "Pop".
      "Pop".

With a convergence of extraordinary events, these myths have been busted and left people a little dazed and uncertain who and what they can rely on. These ideas were not really a part of life that you live with every day, just something you know is true cause you've heard it so often. I think Brisbane is adjusting to the true uncertainty of life that comes with living by the river, and it might take some time to do so.

Also carried with the legend of '74, is the legend of the armies of friends, neighbours and strangers who came out to help others in their time of need. I believe there is a universal human desire to help others and that has been the primary motivation for volunteers this past week, and the stories of the '74 volunteers has given us examples of behaviour to follow. I saw echoes of this in my own thoughts this past week "Helping out in a crisis is just what you do.","I feel useless just watching the river rise. Who, how or where can I help?", "I can at least do the same as they did.", "I don't want to be compared and found wanting", "It would look bad to be the only one not volunteering". So thanks to all thosewho got involved during the '74 floods and have kept alive a model for us to follow.

I'm sure the 2011 floods will take on their own status in legend in the days, weeks, months and years to come. It comes out of people sharing their stories with friends and strangers, telling them over to new friends, stories that are surprising and inspiring, stories that carry the weight of fear and loss or perhaps stories that are just routine and workaday. One of the biggest gifts we can provide for people is just to listen to their stories without judgement. As we tell our stories over they gain less hold over us, and allowing others to just tell their stories and truly listening allows them to release the fear, loss and tension of the moment that lives in the story.

Also carried with the legend and myth of the '74 floods is the smell that went with it. Folks speak of still remembering the smell that went with the floods, nearly 40 years down the track. And as I sit here, that smell once again lingers over the city. Where the westerly winds used to send wafts of wheaty/hoppy smells from the WeetBix factory, (which smells strangely similar to beer brewing), we now get that flood smell - a strange, ripe, vaguely unpleasant smell - somewhere between thick mud, rotting vegetation, sewage and rich soil. It certainly ain't pretty...

...but as they say "Ugly or pretty, it's still my city" And today I'm proud and happy to live here.

The picture says it all.

Southbank Wed 12-01-11

Southbank Promenade Wed 12-01-11

Flood waters under Captain Cook Bridge Wed 12-01-11

Water over the road near Go-Between Bridge Wed 12-01-11

A pontoon floats by - Yeronga Wed 12-01-11

Sir William MacGregor Dve, UQ Wed 12-01-11

Riverside from Storey Bridge Thurs 13-01-11

The now-missing Riverwalk Thurs 13-01-11

Brisbane River at Yeronga Thurs 13-01-11

Lessons from the River Loop

So I'm sitting on my couch, having breakfast and watching the cricket. I've weighed in post-Christmas binge at a peak of 101.7kg, about 4kg up on my usual weight of 98kg, when the thought comes up,

"I really should go and do some exercise". 

Immediately the "Idontwanna" voice kicks in:

"But I'm too tired. And the cricket's on. And I should have gone 4 hours ago, it's too late now, and it's too hot anyway."

The original voice counters,

"But you said you'd go yesterday, AND the day before. Is this gonna be just another time you didn't do what you said?"

So I suit up and get on the bike, for a spin round the river loop. And there's the first benefit right there before I've even gone anywhere:

1. The joy of doing what I said I'd do.
My actions align with my commitment to being fit and healthy physically and mentally, and I don't need to suffer with feeling guilty about not doing exercise again. I know myself as someone who will do what I said even with feelings and reasons that get in the way of that. My mood lightens straight away and as I'm pedalling along through the back of Yeronga past my old place in Feez St, the next benefit comes to mind:

2. Moving forward
The wind is in my hair and in my face, I'm enjoying just moving forward, going somewhere. It may just be physically moving forward, and in a loop that comes back to the same place, but it feels metaphorical as well - going somewhere, moving forward in life, providing impetus for getting moving in other areas of life, and this kicks in to the next benefit of exercise:

3. Positive thinking time
I don't know if this is true for everyone, but I really value exercise time, as it provides me with a time to think in which I seem to think more positively than I otherwise would. Maybe it's just the endorphins, but with the positive thoughts come ideas for positive actions: "I'll ring that mate back who rang yesterday." "I'll study despite being 'on holidays'." "I'll do a blog post about this." "I'll put my application in for uni this year".

I think about all of this as I cruise along Brisbane Corso, then I get to the bottom of Highgate Hill and start climbing - this brings the next challenge, my muscles start to ache, I feel tired, my tight shoulders tense up more, my breathing gets heavier, "Idontwanna" voice comes back, but this challenge provides the next benefit too:

4. Pushing myself when it's hard work
It feels uncomfortable, but I push myself up the hill without stopping, right to the top of Gladstone Rd and there's a victory. I can push myself even when it's uncomfortable, and get to the end. I get to know myself as someone who can be determined through difficulties. From the top of Gladstone Rd it's a fun, fast roll down Dornoch Tce and this brings the next, unexpected benefit:

5. Life is fun!
It seems obvious, but sometimes I forget that. What could bring it back more than hammering down hill at 60kph with the wind rushing by? Life sure IS fun.

The bottom of the hill brings you back to the Brisbane River, as always in Brissie, and a long winding ride through West End and South Brisbane. These days there are so many more options for cyclists and pedestrians crossing the river in the city - Eleanor Schonell Bridge, The Go-Between Bridge, The Kurilpa Bridge, Victoria Bridge, The Goodwill Bridge, The Storey Bridge. These all present options to vary the length of the ride, but for me a 'full' river loop crosses the Goodwill Bridge and goes back via Indooroopilly, and this presents the next opportunity:

6. Doing things properly and fully
I could easily take one of the other bridges and shorten the ride, particularly if I'm feeling tired. (Taking the Eleanor Schonell Bridge across from UQ and home is a fave shortcut)  I want to do this as I intended - a full river loop over the Goodwill Bridge and back via Indooro Bridge, so I head up South Bank past all the other bridges to the Goodwill Bridge and back along the Bicentennial Bikeway out towards UQ. I cruise gently down Sir Fred Schonell Drive and into UQ, really getting into the rhythm of the ride and this is the last major benefit:

7. Being in the zone
There's something really lovely about being settled in the rhythm of an activity - no thoughts about technique or how to do this better, no pushing hard or straining, no need to do it any other way, just letting your body move in it's natural rhythm. I find it with swimming after several hundred metres and today it was there on the bike.

From there it's just a few ups and downs round the back of Indooro and a cruisy flat ride through Chelmer, Graceville and Tennyson. As I pulled up at the lights at Fairfield Rd, the driver next to me leaned out, "It's a bit hot for riding, eh?". "Yeah, it is a bit.", I said. But I loved it.