The Weekend

  1. We had to drive over 30kms to get to this food truck that sold pork-belly slices. It was great. It was deceptively hefty, well-seasoned and warm as if it had only come out of the deep-fryer minutes ago. I’m done trying to fry pork-belly. I’ve boiled it first, kept it in the fridge overnight, to disappointing results. And a pot full of oil ends up sitting on top of the stove until I eventually throw it out because I rarely deep fry anything.

  2. Made marmalade for the first time. The experience is akin to that of diving over a cliff, surviving it as you would, only to realise that you could have done it correctly, a hundred million ways. Well, FUCK THAT. It tastes great - I like the rind and the slight bitterness- and I will only ever try to eat it once or twice anyway because it has too much sugar (10 CUPS) and we rarely ever eat bread.

The Weekend

Such a struggle to find JUST protein. And the cravings. The depression (!). The falling off the wagon (who knew the Chinese bakery made really good pork buns, well-seasoned filling, really fluffy dough).

And then we found high-protein pasta! (will try it next time for sure).

I’ve always liked tofu, but I never really went out of my way to buy and cook it. I tried it on Friday and just free-styled it with shrimp, butter and gochujang- sort of like this recipe

Packing up

As someone who’s not really crazy about traveling, I spend a lot of thoughtful time preparing for when I do. For me, the anxiety and hassle of the airport, of immigration/customs and packing the perfect luggage is far more exciting than the actual destination (because when you get there, it’s just alright).

There are a lot of things in your life you can’t control, but the closest thing to perfect control is when you’re able to handle challenging events and situations that come your way because you just happen to have the right stuff in your bags- a condom (joke!!!), swimming trunks, a Covid test kit, toiletries specific to different climates, extra undies, diarrhoa tablets, oral care strips, a Peter Thomas Roth gold mask, three styles of sunglasses, a fully paid-off credit card.

I’m not a naturally organised person by nature, but I suddenly become one when I pack.

December is several months away, but I’m halfway there through my lists- Christmas gifts (must be small and weigh next to nothing!) and outfit list (what to wear on the flight, what to change into when we land, etc.). I’ve learned a lesson from last year’s trip; it’s way too hot for hoodies, pants and even underwear, so the shortlist for what to bring is very short.

Inexplicably, we only get one (massive) single checked luggage, but there’s a silver lining to that; that’s your lot. You have exactly 30 kilos to work with.

Well, if only life in general were that specific, we’d all be better off!

(Getting a new backpack and trying to pick which one will work best).

The Weekend

  1. Funny that we can stick with dodgy friends literally for life and yet totally disown something like white bread. Ruth’s up for a couple of days so the pantry and the fridge have been stocked up with her ‘essentials’ such as white (toast) bread, full-cream milk and spreadable butter; items we’ve put on the black-list because of a combination of second-hand information, possibly bogus ‘scientific evidence’ from social media and snobbery.

  2. I miss white bread. My go-to sandwiches are either a cucumber one with the crusts cut off, or toasted with mayo and a thick slice of cheese. Yum.

  3. When will we ever learn that lists don’t work at Costco.

  4. Wagyu beef ribs redux. I picked the wrong SKU- whole ribs- and there was no way I could cut them unless we had a band-saw or something. So they were seared on the George Foreman grill which worked quite well.

  5. Yes you can brulee a cheese-cake, recipe here

The week that was

  1. I’ve been mulling a four-day work week, convinced that it will dramatically change the way I work and live. I’m already envisioning Fridays when I can finish chores (leaving the weekends free), bake (but then I have to eat the darned things), cook (more eating!), write (more staring at an empty screen), draw (why is Procreate so hard??). The possibilities are endless, or I could possibly end up in bed the whole day, exhausted from the previous four days.

  2. Speaking of Procreate, tackling it is the same as going into an Indian supermarket. I want to buy a little bit of everything, attempt to do something, but then realise that I have little to zero knowledge of the ingredients, the culture and the history. Knowing how to cook (or draw), is simply not enough. Where to begin though?

  3. I hurt my shoulder and I don’t know how or where. I thought it was the same shoulder that I injured nearly two years ago but at the physio, it turns out that now it’s the other shoulder (my right). How do I even forget something like this? There’s a sliver of pain with such actions as raising and fluffing the (heavy) winter duvet blanket, or soaping my back with the $2 back-scrubber that I got from Temu. I could’ve ignored it. I could’ve brushed it away as something part of aging (and not necessarily an injury). It could have gone or it could it have gotten worse. But I didn’t let the chips fall where they may, which I used to do a lot in the past. I’m at a point in my life where I marvel at my capacity to be responsible for myself (because who else would??), to know that an intervention is the logical choice. Have an appointment this week for an ultrasound to see what’s up.

  4. I used fresh pasta the other day and didn’t realise how delicious it is. It’s something I normally shy away from. I would rarely ever pick an Italian restaurant - if I wanted to fill myself with carbs, I’d just get a double Quarter Pounder from McDonald’s or get a pizza from Pizza Hut (with two sides of chicken wings). But fresh is something else isn’t it?

  5. I love winter. It makes spending $7 for a coffee every morning at the petrol station justified and necessary.

Friday

The weather in Auckland is the weirdest. While you’re out and about enjoying window shopping in deserted shops with just a light rain outside this happens.

My sister does her hobbies on her days off work. On mine, I go to the city and enjoy its pleasures. The train is pleasantly warm even if we had to stand up the rest of the quick (it was an express route) 25 minute ride into the CBD.

Another weird thing about Auckland; people are not really keen on public transport. They’d rather drive and moan the rest of the day about how horrendous the traffic and the weather was.

Sam and I have coffees and a nice danish (tomatillo with passion fruit and cream) at our current favourite Daily Bread. I had my Surface with me so what do you do when you have one of your work devices with you? You just have to check your emails.

I take the train back to Newmarket; my go-to local label just dropped some more active wear. The trains are empty, the shops deserted which is perfect. The rain is falling heavily now and I realise that the shop opens at 10am, not nine.

I duck into the once bustling Rialto Centre where there are seats in the lobby. It’s nearly deserted of shops which is another weird thing about Auckland; retail shops struggle in a city that no one wants to visit either by car or by public transport! (how stupid is that?). I’m facing this shop that sells candles, postcards and kitschy decor and I wonder, do people buy enough of this crap to allow you to pay the lease?

I read a longish New Yorker article on my phone about the 33-year old wannabe mayor of New York Zohran Mamdani and by the time I’m done, it’s 10:20.

I’m an efficient shopper; I know what I want and I’ve already picked the stuff out from the website. I don’t try anything else which prevents me from buying more. I’m done in about 15 minutes. The rain has stopped a bit and someone is lingering at Aesop which is just next door. I could smell black pepper and cedar. Damn it.

I go in and buy a pottle of body cleanser, a hand cream and a lips salve.

Out of office

  1. Should aim staying over in the warmer months next time

  2. The perfect routine; work from 7:30am to 11; walk to the gym; work till 4:30; nap; dinner; sleep at 9:30.

  3. The mental impact of eating food you grew up with can never be underestimated- fuck dieting.

  4. It’s been a while since I had scrambled eggs with tomatoes. Dad made it all the time, the perfect accompaniment to fried fish or Spam. There would be heaps left over and I would remember eating bits of it throughout the day until it was all gone.

  5. Kids grow up so fast it makes me want to cry.

Working weekend

I almost lost my phone and then my ring, which gave me an epiphany of sorts; I thought that I didn’t have that much of an attachment to material things, but I do.

The phone was easy enough because I left it in an Uber, which we recovered in 20 minutes, but the ring was a mystery. I thought I’d lost it while doing my business in a cordoned-off, private restroom at the arena where we held our show over the weekend. I swear I remember taking it off while I was in the cubicle and putting it into my toiletry bag. Fast forward two hours, I suddenly realise that it wasn’t on my finger, and the panic and grief I felt was something I didn’t expect.

Suffice it to say that I went back up to the restroom half a dozen times, scanning the floor, the stairs in the hope that I had dropped it, praying under my breath for God to make it twinkle in some dark corner, some crevice. But alas.

I cursed myself for having way too many sakes the night previous, hence a grumbly stomach worsened by a breakfast of a big McDonald’s Brekkie Burger with an extra beef patty and a fried egg. See what happens when you SHIT at work? Something bad happens.

It took the whole day for me to accept the fact that these things do happen - you win some (the day previous, I got word from my doctor that my blood-sugar reduction diet was working) and you lose some.

Our show closed at 4 pm and we started the process of packing up. Just randomly, I reached for this box where we’ve put in our empty coffee cups and various trash and absentmindedly riffled through it (like why right? I could have dumped it straight into the bin) and saw a glint of silver.

It was the ring. Honestly don’t know how it get there, or maybe I’m losing my mind, but I’m glad that God returned it to me.