Have I mentioned before that I hate forms? Okay, just checking.
While forms in themselves are tedious, repetitive, often ambiguous and overall a terrible bore, nothing can compare to the viciousness of the eForm. On a hardcopy form it is possible to add comments on the margins or write under the line. On an eForm? You are entirely at the mercy of the form designer. If they decide to set up the form such that it is completely impossible to accurately transcribe your address in the given space, then you will, in fact, be unable to accurately transcribe your address in the given space. And good luck to you if you get a drop-down box which fails to take into account any unusual circumstances which may happen to apply to you.
I welcome the day when telepathy becomes a norm. Not only will you be able to open doors by flicking your eyes at them, or pick the exact colour you're thinking of, or have conversations at the speed of a neuronal impulse. No, the key application will be in the filling of forms, using nothing more than thought.
Think about it.
Thursday, 24 December 2009
Wednesday, 16 December 2009
Chocolate Biscuit Pudding
This is a traditional recipe which both of my parents instantly recognised. It occupies the same spot in my country of origin that jelly slice does in Australian cuisine, as a simple, common dessert with numerous variations. I've updated this recipe in 2014 with some minor modifications and notes.
Chocolate Biscuit Pudding
Ingredients
225 g semisweet chocolate chips
125 g butter
3 eggs, separated
1 package (about 225 g) Marie biscuits
1/2 cup caster sugar
3/4 can sweetened whipped cream
1/4 cup water
1 cup milk
200 g sliced or slivered almonds, lightly toasted
1 tbs rum (substitute with brandy or strong coffee)
1 tsp vanilla essence
Pinch (1/16 tsp) salt
In a heat-proof bowl, combine chocolate chips, water, vanilla essence and rum. Set over a pan of simmering water, until the chocolate has just melted. Cool to room temperature. Whisk in the butter until combined.
Reserve 1 tbs of the caster sugar. Beat egg yolks and the remaining sugar at high speed until pale yellow and creamy. At a lower speed, beat in the chocolate mixture. Spray some whipped cream on top and fold in to break up the mixture. Fold in the rest of the cream.
At high speed, beat egg whites, the reserved sugar and salt until soft peaks form. Carefully fold the eggs whites into the chocolate.
Briefly dip the Marie biscuits in milk, so that they are fully covered in liquid. Line the base of a 8" square tin with the biscuits. Spoon an approximately 1 cm layer of the chocolate mixture over the biscuits, spreading with a spatula to cover evenly, and sprinkle with the almonds. Add another layer of biscuits, and repeat until all the chocolate mixture is used up (ensure that the almond layer ends up on top). Cover with cling film and chill in the fridge from two hours to overnight until firm.
Notes
225 g is a lot of chocolate chips. For a less rich pudding, reduce to 150 g. I like to mix bittersweet and semisweet chocolate chips (Ghirardelli conveniently manufactures both types).
Did you know that chocolate Marie biscuits exist? FairPrice introduced them 2009. They can be used to prepare a double-chocolate pudding. The part of me which is completely unconcerned about health considered using Khong Guan's chocolate sandwich biscuits for even more chocolate.
If you don't want to use canned whipped cream, increase the amount of sugar to 3/4 cups and use an electric or stand mixer to whip 200 g cream at medium speed. Use only cream labelled as whipping, thickened or heavy cream - check the packaging to ensure that it contains between 30-50% fat.
Before layering the biscuits, they can be dipped in coffee instead of milk; it's a matter of personal preference. There also seem to be divided opinions as to whether the biscuits in each layer should lie flat or overlap slightly.
I had success preparing the pudding in a loaf pan; the pudding ended up with four layers and, better still, occupied less shelf space in the refrigerator (it's not like you can stack something on top of it...).
The pudding must be kept chilled almost constantly, or it will start to melt.
Tuesday, 1 December 2009
Concerning the End of Bionicle
This news isn't new by any means, but I've been waiting a little before commenting... The gist of it is that LEGO will stop producing Bionicle sets in the immediate future, possibly forever. While the storyline isn't about to end immediately, it's hard to see LEGO making a long-term investment to develop a story which won't be bringing in any more money. It seems then that the Bionicle Stars were, aptly, a farewell gift.
What do I think of this? Well, first of all I have to say this was expected. I didn't predict Bionicle would end so soon, but it was bound to happen the minute the line stopped being profitable. It is probably a credit to the line that it has managed to last so long. Given the difficulty of appeasing old fans, attracting new fans and producing new sets to make money with every single year... well, it shouldn't have been a surprise at all.
Secondly, while I wish the story could have wrapped up neatly, with a few more years of story building up to the final defeat of the Makuta once and for all, clearly we're going to get something reasonably anticlimatic, if we get a proper conclusion at all. This, I suppose, cannot be helped.
Thirdly, I now have an excuse to buy a few more Bionicle sets. I had my eye on Bionicle Stars Tahu.
Fourthly, any piece of fiction will live on as long as it has fans. There is absolutely no reason to stop writing fanfiction or building MOCs. Previously, it was LEGO's job to keep coming up with new material to inspire us. Now this task has been handed back to us.
I think we can handle it.
What do I think of this? Well, first of all I have to say this was expected. I didn't predict Bionicle would end so soon, but it was bound to happen the minute the line stopped being profitable. It is probably a credit to the line that it has managed to last so long. Given the difficulty of appeasing old fans, attracting new fans and producing new sets to make money with every single year... well, it shouldn't have been a surprise at all.
Secondly, while I wish the story could have wrapped up neatly, with a few more years of story building up to the final defeat of the Makuta once and for all, clearly we're going to get something reasonably anticlimatic, if we get a proper conclusion at all. This, I suppose, cannot be helped.
Thirdly, I now have an excuse to buy a few more Bionicle sets. I had my eye on Bionicle Stars Tahu.
Fourthly, any piece of fiction will live on as long as it has fans. There is absolutely no reason to stop writing fanfiction or building MOCs. Previously, it was LEGO's job to keep coming up with new material to inspire us. Now this task has been handed back to us.
I think we can handle it.
Saturday, 21 November 2009
Landscape
As we come to the end of my time in this country (for the time being, at any rate) and the day fast approaches when I must commence packing (not the most pleasant of duties, no) I find myself revaluating my...
Aw, heck. Here's a pretty picture.
Aw, heck. Here's a pretty picture.
A lake which a lot of people are completely unaware of.
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Discomfort
My face itches. If I look in the mirror I know I'll see a faint reddening on both my cheeks, right below the eye sockets. Sunburn.
The one day I forget the sunblock.
Although the window is open, the air is close and stifling. It is hot, unreasonably so. Even a fan offers little respite.
Around me are the various belongings which I must somehow pack in a matter of days. Their presence nags at me constantly.
I am unsettled, restless in such surroundings. The curry I had for dinner shifts unhappily in the inner regions of my gut. It positively reeked of cumin, and now I pay the price for attempting to do it some justice.
A lesson learnt: curry should always be treated with suspicion, especially if a single spice appears to be in excess.
Somehow this unsettled feeling will leave. Until then I am a prisoner in my own uncomfortable, itching skin.
The one day I forget the sunblock.
Although the window is open, the air is close and stifling. It is hot, unreasonably so. Even a fan offers little respite.
Around me are the various belongings which I must somehow pack in a matter of days. Their presence nags at me constantly.
I am unsettled, restless in such surroundings. The curry I had for dinner shifts unhappily in the inner regions of my gut. It positively reeked of cumin, and now I pay the price for attempting to do it some justice.
A lesson learnt: curry should always be treated with suspicion, especially if a single spice appears to be in excess.
Somehow this unsettled feeling will leave. Until then I am a prisoner in my own uncomfortable, itching skin.
Saturday, 14 November 2009
Childhood's End
Late at night, with a cup of apple juice generously cut with ice, the reflective thoughts arise.
There are movies, you see, and books and comics, about high-schoolers worrying about their graduation, about college and living through it. It's such a commonplace setting that it isn't questioned anymore.
I'm there. I'm past that.
I am no longer a student. I am an adult. An adult with a degree. Somehow I passed university, like it was nothing.
Something tells me it should have been different, significant, difficult at least. But it was much the same as always. The same type of challenges, met with the same fervour in solving them. I think, if possible, I have become even more childish this year. At home, uniformity was important. Here, being different is celebrated.
After work I bring chocolates for everyone, to thank them - for being there? For their little instances of helpfulness? No matter. My supervisor has long gone home, so I tape some leftover chocolate to his office door. The next day he comes to me, asking - Were those for him? From me? There is a pleased sort of softness to his tone - and I don't know what to say. I don't know how to tell him there was nothing special about what was attached to his door. I don't know how to deal with this new information, that he would readily accept a gift from me, even if there was no occasion for it.
I come back to my desk and find that the little toys I've kept around are now on another person's desk, in positions which may charitably be referred to as "indecent". Piqued, I dismantle the diorama.
Childhood has not ended, for me or anyone else.
There are movies, you see, and books and comics, about high-schoolers worrying about their graduation, about college and living through it. It's such a commonplace setting that it isn't questioned anymore.
I'm there. I'm past that.
I am no longer a student. I am an adult. An adult with a degree. Somehow I passed university, like it was nothing.
Something tells me it should have been different, significant, difficult at least. But it was much the same as always. The same type of challenges, met with the same fervour in solving them. I think, if possible, I have become even more childish this year. At home, uniformity was important. Here, being different is celebrated.
After work I bring chocolates for everyone, to thank them - for being there? For their little instances of helpfulness? No matter. My supervisor has long gone home, so I tape some leftover chocolate to his office door. The next day he comes to me, asking - Were those for him? From me? There is a pleased sort of softness to his tone - and I don't know what to say. I don't know how to tell him there was nothing special about what was attached to his door. I don't know how to deal with this new information, that he would readily accept a gift from me, even if there was no occasion for it.
I come back to my desk and find that the little toys I've kept around are now on another person's desk, in positions which may charitably be referred to as "indecent". Piqued, I dismantle the diorama.
Childhood has not ended, for me or anyone else.
Monday, 12 October 2009
Update XXV: Deadlines
So I've noticed that, no matter how much time I'm given to complete a task, I generally end up working ten hours non-stop and late at night on the day before the deadline. Is it a persistent inability to estimate the amount of time required to complete something? Chronic procrastination which is overridden by panic only in the final forty-eight hours? Or the fact that no work is truly complete, and given more time I simply make more edits up to the final minutes? I suspect the answer is a combination of all three.
However, now the toughest 20,000 words I've ever had to put together, accompanied by some twenty images, have been submitted and are presumably in the process of being marked. Meanwhile, I'm left with the final hurdle of my final talk, which will be given in front of the entire department. I'm still putting it together, but I feel better about this one than my initial talk about six months ago. Back then, it was ridiculous how little I knew about my own project. Now, I know every weave of it. I feel ready to defend it against questioning. I want to defend it.
This is not to say that all my days so far have been occupied solely by work-related matters (although that has been my main preoccupation). I've also taken the time to watch The Dollars Trilogy - previously, I'd only seen The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, which I now realise is a prequel to A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More (if Blondie's wardrobe is anything to go by). All three films are absolutely fantastic. They have a certain grittiness which seems to be lacking in modern films, even the "edgy" ones. Here, the violence isn't senseless; it seems completely natural, given the type of people and the harsh environments the film depicts. "Il Buono" himself is often self-serving and heartless, though to a lesser degree than the villains. Even Col. Douglas Mortimer, perhaps one of the most honorable main characters across all three films, illegally stops a train to get where he wants, nearly provokes a bar-fight in order to prove a point, and has no compunctions about gunning down men for money. But not all is grim, and the action is balanced with sprawling scenery, little instances of dry humour, and long scenes where almost nothing happens. It is like a reflection of life, really.
Also, now I want a green poncho so I can dramatically fling it over one shoulder.
I've also been shopping recently. While a poncho didn't feature among my purchases, I got both Hot Fuzz and 2001: A Space Odyssey on DVD, not to mention some really nice clothes. Also, the soles of my old shoes were starting to peel off, so I bought a lovely new pair from Skechers. While a little pricier than I'm used to, the shoes are ridiculously comfortable and I love them already. The box had an extra set of black shoelaces, so now the left shoe sports black laces while the right one has white. I wonder how long it will take for someone to notice.
The other thing I've been doing is baking. Recently we had a charity morning tea and I needed to bring something as a contribution, so I made cheese straws and caramelised onion dip. For the cheese straws I followed the recipe in the link fairly closely. I used Cracker Barrel's Extra-Sharp Vintage Cheddar cheese, and chili powder instead of cayenne pepper. I also didn't have any cookie sheets, so I lined my baking pan with aluminium foil. I twisted the sticks so they resembled drill-bits. This was a little tricky, because the dough had to be the right consistency. I think the best would be to take the dough out of the fridge and then leave it for about 15 minutes at room temperature before cutting and shaping the straws. I baked them for six minutes, then turned them over and baked them for a further seven minutes, which got them nice and golden-brown and baked through.
For the dip, I used half a cup sour cream and half a cup yogurt instead of a full cup of sour cream, mostly because I bought a house-brand sour cream which wasn't nearly sour enough. I didn't have balsamic vinegar on hand, so I used plain white vinegar. I have to say that while two large onions seems like an awful lot, both of them are necessary as the chopped onions shrink a fair amount during cooking. The caramelised onions were very good on their own, soft, dark golden-brown and very sweet. I can think of other uses for them apart from a dip component.
When serving them I placed a small Pyrex tub in the centre of a plate, and stacked up the cheese straws log-cabin style in a hexagon around the tub. It looked great, and people loved it. (One of my colleagues confessed to eating four of them.) I'll probably try making this again when I go home. Although someone else is going to grate all the cheese. Grating a 227 g block of vintage Cheddar - not fun!
You know, it occurs to be that within two months I'll be done with this Honours year and back home. My childhood will officially and truly be over. Seems funny, considering what I was blogging about precisely one year ago. That part of me hasn't changed, and I don't want it to. There's so much out there to experience, and I wouldn't want to miss out just because of some misguided idea of what adults are supposed to act like.
So anyway, that concludes the October update. Laters.
However, now the toughest 20,000 words I've ever had to put together, accompanied by some twenty images, have been submitted and are presumably in the process of being marked. Meanwhile, I'm left with the final hurdle of my final talk, which will be given in front of the entire department. I'm still putting it together, but I feel better about this one than my initial talk about six months ago. Back then, it was ridiculous how little I knew about my own project. Now, I know every weave of it. I feel ready to defend it against questioning. I want to defend it.
This is not to say that all my days so far have been occupied solely by work-related matters (although that has been my main preoccupation). I've also taken the time to watch The Dollars Trilogy - previously, I'd only seen The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, which I now realise is a prequel to A Fistful of Dollars and For a Few Dollars More (if Blondie's wardrobe is anything to go by). All three films are absolutely fantastic. They have a certain grittiness which seems to be lacking in modern films, even the "edgy" ones. Here, the violence isn't senseless; it seems completely natural, given the type of people and the harsh environments the film depicts. "Il Buono" himself is often self-serving and heartless, though to a lesser degree than the villains. Even Col. Douglas Mortimer, perhaps one of the most honorable main characters across all three films, illegally stops a train to get where he wants, nearly provokes a bar-fight in order to prove a point, and has no compunctions about gunning down men for money. But not all is grim, and the action is balanced with sprawling scenery, little instances of dry humour, and long scenes where almost nothing happens. It is like a reflection of life, really.
Also, now I want a green poncho so I can dramatically fling it over one shoulder.
I've also been shopping recently. While a poncho didn't feature among my purchases, I got both Hot Fuzz and 2001: A Space Odyssey on DVD, not to mention some really nice clothes. Also, the soles of my old shoes were starting to peel off, so I bought a lovely new pair from Skechers. While a little pricier than I'm used to, the shoes are ridiculously comfortable and I love them already. The box had an extra set of black shoelaces, so now the left shoe sports black laces while the right one has white. I wonder how long it will take for someone to notice.
The other thing I've been doing is baking. Recently we had a charity morning tea and I needed to bring something as a contribution, so I made cheese straws and caramelised onion dip. For the cheese straws I followed the recipe in the link fairly closely. I used Cracker Barrel's Extra-Sharp Vintage Cheddar cheese, and chili powder instead of cayenne pepper. I also didn't have any cookie sheets, so I lined my baking pan with aluminium foil. I twisted the sticks so they resembled drill-bits. This was a little tricky, because the dough had to be the right consistency. I think the best would be to take the dough out of the fridge and then leave it for about 15 minutes at room temperature before cutting and shaping the straws. I baked them for six minutes, then turned them over and baked them for a further seven minutes, which got them nice and golden-brown and baked through.
For the dip, I used half a cup sour cream and half a cup yogurt instead of a full cup of sour cream, mostly because I bought a house-brand sour cream which wasn't nearly sour enough. I didn't have balsamic vinegar on hand, so I used plain white vinegar. I have to say that while two large onions seems like an awful lot, both of them are necessary as the chopped onions shrink a fair amount during cooking. The caramelised onions were very good on their own, soft, dark golden-brown and very sweet. I can think of other uses for them apart from a dip component.
When serving them I placed a small Pyrex tub in the centre of a plate, and stacked up the cheese straws log-cabin style in a hexagon around the tub. It looked great, and people loved it. (One of my colleagues confessed to eating four of them.) I'll probably try making this again when I go home. Although someone else is going to grate all the cheese. Grating a 227 g block of vintage Cheddar - not fun!
You know, it occurs to be that within two months I'll be done with this Honours year and back home. My childhood will officially and truly be over. Seems funny, considering what I was blogging about precisely one year ago. That part of me hasn't changed, and I don't want it to. There's so much out there to experience, and I wouldn't want to miss out just because of some misguided idea of what adults are supposed to act like.
So anyway, that concludes the October update. Laters.
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