If you’re first-time visitor to my blog, this is where I keep sort of a journal to document what goes inside my brain and what is cooked in the kitchen.
In this time of instability –we’ve been living this in Lebanon since August/September 2019, don’t let anyone convince you the instability was caused by the October 17 Revolution. The movement was caused by the greed and constant incompetence and failures of the government and ever-reigning politicians– we are trying to find comfort in anything that reminded us of a good time, a good memory, a joyful moment, a pleasant smell, or a comforting flavor.
Everyone and their mother (literally) is making cinnamon rolls and banana bread and starting a sourdough starter. I am guilty of the last two. I had to… A boy needed his good loaf of bread so I started the starter on March 27, but only now I got a good loaf. I’ll leave that for a future post. But now, I MADE CAKE!!!
It’s 4 months into the new year, and some of us already wish it would be over.
I hope we make it out alive. Eight months to go.
None of us imagined this would happen. A few months ago, the world was unstoppable, and even 40 days ago, life still continued even with the rise of the pandemic previously known as epidemic. Most of us are now either isolated, quarantined, working from home, out of jobs, or whatever situation this virus and its repercussions put us in.
It hasn’t been easy the past few months in Lebanon especially. With the financial crisis beginning to loom since last summer, (not caused by the Revolution of October 17, as politicians, analysts, and the media are brainwashing people to believe) and the government that is failing to take responsibility for the mess they are involved in, it has been very stressful to cope. Focus shifted from being creative and productive to ending the day safely and looking for ways to secure an income to pay dues. I am not here to go into details or talk about this now.
Let’s try and focus on things that take our mind off for a little while.
I haven’t been cooking and shooting lately, but I have enough stock to allow me to post archive recipes for some time. As long as I have the mindset to write and edit and publish, I’m safe, and you’re getting recipes 😂
So here it goes
I made this last year and I was experimenting with some dark moody photography but it’s such a pity that I kept these photos stored for a year now. I probably shared one photo as part of a trio of dark moody light tests on Instagram, but the rest are now to be shared.
Let’s move down the spectrum from yellow and orange to RED.
Strawberry season might be over around here, but I have another long lost jars of preserves that I had to look for and unearth from the abyss of lost jars.
I remember making this jam a couple of years ago when I got a few crates of strawberries and sat on the floor with legs crossed washing the strawberries, picking the stems off, and cutting them in half. Just like zesting the whole crate of lemons, this task is kind of relieving for me as it takes my mind off things for a while.
I asked mom for the recipe she used to use when she made jams. Usually one would use the same weight of fruits in sugar, but it differs depending on the sweetness or tartness of the fruits. I don’t thing there is a problem in adding more sugar, except maybe getting an overly sweet jam overpowering the flavor of the fruits. But adding less sugar will make the jam rot easily. Therefore, for strawberries, I used 800g per 1 kilogram, and some of them have been sitting on the shelf since I made them in 2017 – hides his face Continue reading
I told you it will get lemony here. Try not to get too sour about it.
Let’s go down this yellow brick road and I’ll show you around what I did with those lemons other than freezing the zest and juice, and making a wonderful sorbet.
With this plethora of lemons, I couldn’t help, while zesting, but pick out the best –and the most emotionally unavailable– ones to praise and cherish and photograph. Then, believing that they would rot after a while, like everything else, I decided to fight their sourness with my saltiness, and press all of it and let it wrestle trapped inside a jar, stacked in my kitchen cabinet.