memories

these past few weeks

Where do I begin? As I tell myself when I sit down at my desk each day - begin somewhere. Anywhere.

As you might have been able to guess from the above photos, I’ve just got back from nearly four weeks in the UK - my former home, the site of so many important and happy years of my life. This visit was not for happy reasons, however, and given that we’ve been in the grip of a global pandemic for the past two years (and with still around 300 deaths a week in Australia this month alone, I do not believe it’s over yet), I personally wouldn’t have chosen to make this trip at this point in time. But we did, and we made the best of it. More importantly, we survived everything that needed to be faced, and are safely home.

Having not left Tasmania since January 2020, it was a very welcome change of scene, despite there being a lot of stressful things to negotiate and our time being limited. However, we definitely tried to make the most of being there. I saw sites related to my PhD which I had long made my peace with never seeing in person while writing this book, so that was incredible. We made pilgrimages to literary sites I had always wanted to see but never made the time to go to when we lived here, which I’d since very much regretted. We drove over 1,000 miles all over the country. We saw some dear friends, as many of them as we could, and even made some new ones. We spent a lot of time in cemeteries. We even got to enjoy the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, which was lovely - no country does pageantry quite like the UK, am I right?

I love the UK, and always will. There are many things I miss about life there, my friends especially. But this trip confirmed for both of us that Hobart is definitely our home and moving back here four years ago was 100% the right decision. In many ways, this trip was like returning to an old life for a few weeks and while that was great fun in some respects, it was also a reminder of what we had outgrown or grown tired of. We felt very homesick for Australia while we were gone; a longing that on my part felt marrow deep. When we were finally on our flight back to Perth, I’m not embarrassed to admit my lip was trembling when the Qantas theme started playing!

I’ve spent the last week waking up at 3:30am (!), ploughing straight back into work including a conference and giving a paper on four hours sleep, and making food that requires long, slow cooking because that is my mode at the moment - go slow. To have gone from a heatwave in London and tanned forearms to an icy, dark winter and flannelette sheets on the bed has been a bit of a mind-bend, in more ways than one. But we’re deeply relieved to be back. It was nice to have an adventure, but even nicer to come home.

I’ll do my best to share the trip with you via my usual This Week headings!

Favourite experience/s

Our first tube ride, fresh off the plane. We have, of course, done that journey a thousand times - the Piccadilly line from Heathrow out to Southgate, almost at the other end of the line, which takes about 75 minutes. Our Oysters still had a little credit on them! From the moment we touched in to riding the escalator to alight at Southgate, we were both overwhelmed by how nice it was to see it all again - how nostalgic we were as the train passed through all the familiar stations that used to signal the end of the working day. The comforting familiarity of it all, how innately we knew the system, exactly where to go and what to do, as if no time had passed at all. At the same time, we were seeing it with fresh, new eyes and it felt kind of wondrous.

Surprising our old neighbours with an impromptu visit! I love surprises - both planning them for others and being on the receiving end of one - so I got a real thrill out of seeing how blown away our old friends were at finding us on their doorstep! We sat and chatted in their living room as the sun went down that first night, next door to our old flat, and it felt just like old times, like we had never been gone.

A morning run around my old neighbourhood park, and brunch afterwards at our old favourite cafe. It was nice to see how many local businesses had survived the lockdowns (and also sad to see how many hadn’t).

Experiencing the new Elizabeth line! We arrived on the day it opened and I was stunned at both the transformation in the stations that I had grown used to being building sites (cough, Moorgate, cough!) and in the efficiency of the line. You can be in Liverpool Street in two stops from Tottenham Court Road now. Mind. Blown.

All PhD related site visits - some in London, some in other parts of England, but all made the world of my characters (I say that for ease, they were real people, but I’m writing fiction) so much more alive and vivid for me. Being able to smell the air, to hear the sound of the wind in the trees, to see what flowers grow wild there in the summer, to see buildings that were already a hundred or so years old when they were living there or to feel the energy of a place where the buildings are long gone….it was beyond anything I could have imagined.

Reunions with wonderful people I love. I wish we could have seen everyone, but sadly it was a very jam-packed schedule and it wasn’t always possible to give people enough of a heads up. I worried too that in between jet lag and all the stress of the reasons why we were there, people weren’t exactly seeing us at our best either. But I needn’t have worried - everyone was very kind, understanding and accommodating, for which my gratitude is boundless. And while I’m also deeply grateful for the modern wonders that are FaceTime and Zoom, nothing quite beats seeing friends in person.

Norwich - a fabulous city we unexpectedly spent quite a bit of time in! I love it there. Wonderful places to eat, great pubs, decent coffee, a branch of my favourite UK clothing brand (Seasalt Cornwall), charity shops full of hidden treasures, an awesome bookshop, and so much history! We saw the cathedral, which dates back to 1145, and a pub that’s been open in the same spot since 1249. The mind boggles.

Seeing Sylvia Plath’s grave. This was deeply moving - sad and strange yet beautiful. I was expecting a bit of a throng of fellow Plath fans and having to wait my turn, but Tom and I found ourselves in a deserted, quiet cemetery on a bright summer afternoon. The grave is overgrown with blue forget-me-nots and I was enchanted by the number of bees buzzing around merrily in the flowers. I think she might have quite liked being a haven for bees who “taste the spring”. It was quiet and peaceful, but not quite what one of the most influential poets of the twentieth century deserves, in my opinion.

Haworth Parsonage - what a wondrous morning we spent here! I could have spent the entire day there happily. It was a real pinch myself moment; the building and its contents have been beautifully preserved by the Brontë society and there are some truly fascinating artefacts inside. My girlhood passion for the Brontës has been well and truly reignited; this visit reminded me of why I had been so fascinated by them.

Meeting lots of lovely dogs - I had forgotten how dog-friendly everything is in the UK! Every pub we went to had a dog in it, to my delight. And they usually made a bee-line for me, much to Tom’s amusement. “Every time! I don’t know what it is,” he laughed.

Anything food-related - see further!

Reading

On reflection, I should have bought all of these books too.

I have to admit, I barely read at all while we were away - apart from the news and anything work-related, because I was still working intermittently throughout the trip. So, this section will be devoted to the wonder that is UK bookshops! I hit all the big ones in London - Hatchards, Waterstones Piccadilly, Foyles on Charing Cross Road, the Brick Lane Bookshop - as well as The Book Hive in Norwich, several Oxfams and we also made a stop at Hay-on-Wye, famous for being one of the UK’s most bookish destinations with no less than 25 bookshops in the tiny village.

I had deliberately packed light so I had plenty of room to bring books back with me. I think it would be safe to say that over half of my suitcase’s final going-home weight was in books. I make no apologies - I am who I am!

Persephone has moved from London to Bath in the years since we’ve been gone, which was not on our itinerary, but thankfully there were plenty of places to procure Persephones about the place. I snaffled a grand total of six. I will be set for Persephones for some time - I do enjoy having a stockpile of them to work my way through!

We also managed to get a SIGNED copy of Jarvis Cocker’s new book which was released on my birthday (an omen). Procured from my old favourite Brick Lane Bookshop, who were as obliging and friendly as ever.

I also loved being able to pick up a copy of Waitrose magazine again - for May and June! Oh, Waitrose - how I’d missed you!

Listening to

The theme tune of our road trip was this song. Quite the ear worm, apologies in advance!

My husband would also like to inform readers of this blog that he procured some vinyl and CDs that are nigh on impossible to get in Australia and enjoyed that aspect of the trip immensely.

Eating

Chips with beer in a pub. Need I say more?

Before this trip, I could count the number of times I have eaten a meal out over the past two years on one hand. I had forgotten what a treat it is, and how exciting it is to try new things and get new ideas for your own cooking. We had some lovely and memorable meals out, interspersed with the wonderful home cooking of friends and family, and we also sampled some of our favourite treats from our old life - Fox’s Chocolate Rounds and M&S hummus (me), Skips and M&S Dutch Shortcakes (Tom), Monster Munch (both). Some lived up to our nostalgic memories and others didn’t! It is funny how your palate sometimes changes as you get older.

Mildred’s - an old favourite in King’s Cross which didn’t disappoint. We started with artichokes with panelle (fried chickpea batter), followed by a “chicken” kebab with kachumber, and a sweet potato and green bean curry with pea-flecked turmeric rice. All so very delicious. And a much needed injection of veg after a day of eating mostly pastries!

Sicilian lemon tart at Theo Randall’s - my birthday cake this year! The meal there was stunning, as always. And I so enjoyed drinking Italian, Spanish and French white wines on this trip, as an aside. There is a freshness about them that always makes me think of happy summers during the years I lived in such close proximity to all three countries.

Wagamama - another old favourite that has had an incredible menu overhaul, with so many delicious vegan options now. I tried the spicy “chicken” ramen (pictured left) and hoisin “duck” rice bowl (right) and both were amazing. The rice bowl even had a vegan “egg”, made from coconut. It was surprisingly realistic!

My aunt is an incredible cook - everything is delicious and wholesome, yet also indulgent. On our first night with her, she had made Nigella Lawson’s liquorice pudding for dessert, which was divine. I will be making it myself very soon!

Not a particularly ambrosial eating experience but a memorable one - we had been driving all day, some 400 miles, and were finally where we needed to be. We found a Travelodge and collapsed wearily on to the bed. Unable to face the idea of going out again, or even of other human interaction, I had had the foresight to buy some Pot Noodles so that was our dinner - boiling the hotel kettle and slurping up these noodles, which were surprisingly good. It felt like we were in our own version of Long Way Round.

We stayed a night with a dear friend in Hertfordshire (readers of my old blog might remember me referring to “my friend the GP” on occasion, this was her!) and after a happy and emotional reunion, she served us a wondrous spaghetti puttanesca which was so comforting and delicious after a day of driving. Accompanied by a chilled Spanish white wine, and with the comforting smell of her cooking in the air and the evening sun golden in the garden, I breathed a deep sigh of relief that the hardest part of the trip was over.

Some amazing Indian takeaway with our friends in south London. Indian food in the UK is really phenomenal, almost as good as being in India itself!

A birthday lunch of Pilpel felafel, which used to be my go-to whenever I would treat myself to a takeaway lunch when I worked nearby. Fresh, healthy, delicious, and the felafel remain the best I have ever had.

But the foodie highlight of the trip was a meal at Erpingham House in Norwich which, if you’re in the UK, I can only urge you to visit as soon as humanly possible, whether you’re vegan or not. You won’t fail to be impressed with the creativity, the quality of the food and its deliciousness.

FSH and smashed potatoes - heaven! It’s a battered banana blossom.

I wish we had been able to sample everything on the menu but in the end, Tom and I both had “fsh” and smashed potatoes (pictured above) and my aunt had “lamb”, and that took quite some deliberation! It’s such a treat to go somewhere and be able to order everything on the menu, not just be scanning for the V or VO options. I got so much inspiration for my cooking from this one meal here. It was simply outstanding.

And, believe it or not, the airline food was OK! I had two favourites - a paratha stuffed with coconut lentils and mushrooms that was served as a midnight snack somewhere between Indonesia and Dubai on the way over, and char kway teow style rice noodles with tofu served for lunch on the Perth to Melbourne flight. Qantas, you did good!

Watching

I discovered Mary McCartney Serves It Up by accident and ended up watching every episode I could lay my hands on - such a charming show with the elegant and charming Mary who cooks all vegan food. I particularly enjoyed Dave Grohl appearing as a guest!

Dinner Date - our old ITV favourite, a comfort watch that has lost none of the cringe factor! For those who don’t know, it’s a reality show where a single man or woman is given five menus to choose from - of those five, they pick the three they most like the sound of (or, most likely, the three the producers have decided would make the most interesting/awkward TV!) and are then subjected to three blind dates where said blind dates cook a three course meal for the guest. At the end of the trio of blind dates, the guest chooses the host they most felt a spark with and off they go, out for a meal they haven’t had to cook! The two unpicked hosts get a commiseration prize of a ready meal. It’s my favourite kind of reality TV and I so enjoyed catching up on a few episodes! I’m pretty sure there’s been an Australian version, which I’ll have to sniff out.

We were also introduced to the nature program Springwatch, which I had never seen before - it’s broadcast live from a series of cameras all over the UK, which “charts the fortunes of British wildlife during the changing of the seasons”. Some stories have a soap opera element about them, with some quite dramatic fates of certain nests of fledglings! It’s really quite relaxing to watch at the end of the day. And oddly hilarious in places, as birds really do get up to some crazy things.

We also watched the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee concert which opened with the Queen and Paddington Bear, which was so very sweet (Paddington 2 is an incredible film, if you’ve not seen it, FYI). We were also in the country during the vote of no confidence in Boris Johnson so naturally were glued to the BBC for the results of that…

Finally, finding Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy available to watch on the flight home after not being able to watch it in Australia was amazing! Dear Stanley, what a lovely man he is. How I would love to be friends with him and Felicity! The program is so thoughtfully and passionately put together, and some parts of it are so tender and moving. And guaranteed to make you want to eat pasta, I’d say.

Quote of the trip

“It’s always better to travel hopefully.” - Rick Stein

Whenever we found ourselves despairing or overcome with anxiety (which sadly but unavoidably happened quite frequently on this trip) about what lay ahead and all the things that could go wrong, one of us would say to the other “travel hopefully”, which is what Rick Stein says at the beginning of his Secret France series, admittedly in the very different context of being hopeful of finding some great food and wine on his travels. We were rewatching some comfort TV in the lead up to our departure, in a bid to keep all the anxiety at bay, and when we heard Rick say the words “travel hopefully”, it became our mantra. And it helped.

It’s hard to explain and I know a lot of people won’t understand, but we had not even gone to the mainland in all this time, so the idea of making such a big journey was very daunting and still felt incredibly risky. We had grown very used to overseas travel being government-sanctioned and off limits, so to be doing it again with very few restrictions felt so strange, almost surreal. And frightening at times, to be honest. I’m proud of how resilient we both were, how we just got on with things, and stayed positive in the face of some very challenging experiences.

And somehow, by some miracle (because our flights were full and we were definitely in the minority in terms of consistent mask wearing), we have remained Covid free! Masks and vaccinations for the win. And travelling hopefully doesn’t hurt either.

So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed the recap! As always, thank you for reading and if you’d like to share your thoughts on this post, or anything else, with me, then please do. I’ll be back later in the week with my usual This Week wrap up. It’s good to be home. xx

creamy curried parsnip soup with black rice

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This soup has a lot of happy memories.

I used to make it a lot when Tom and I were newlyweds, in our tiny basement flat in Pimlico, when the air was freezing, autumn leaves were raked up in proud piles in the streets, it got dark at 3:30pm and parsnips were plentiful.  A £1 bag of them would make a vat of this soup and on dark late autumn and winter nights, we would cosy up on our dilapidated old couch and watch movies, pressing pause so we could return to the kitchen for another ladle. I discovered this soup thanks to Shaheen’s Allotment2Kitchen blog all those years ago but I, in true Phil style, made it my own by adding coconut cream and garam masala. Since moving back to Australia, I’ve adapted it further.

We used to make the soup with wild rice, which I never had a problem finding in supermarkets in the UK, but it doesn’t seem to be a thing here. However, black rice is available and it makes a lovely contrast with the fluoro yellow of the soup. You can just use brown rice if that’s all you can find, but black rice does seem to be widely available in Oz and I think it adds interest, contrast and extra health benefits, as well as being super filling!

Parsnips are a sweet root vegetable so the earthy notes of curry powder and turmeric are a perfect partner. You’ll note I’ve refrained from adding heat here – most unusual – but the natural sweetness of the parsnips combined with the spices and rice are so well balanced I feel that adding another flavour component would throw the whole thing off. But I am, as always, willing to be proven wrong.

Until the other night, I hadn’t made this soup for a very, very long time. I don’t see parsnips available in the shops here very often – another reason I’d like to grow them myself when we eventually have a home with space for a bigger vegetable patch – so it hadn’t been on my radar for a while. But then I saw some proud specimens in the grocers after work one night, and not at an exorbitant price (I do miss being able to buy a kilo of them for £1!), so I grabbed them, with the sudden thought that it might be nice to wander down memory lane and try this soup again.

Such a lot has happened these past ten-and-a-half years, but one spoonful of this warming, comforting soup last night and we were right back there in that little flat, with everything that hadn’t happened yet still to come.

creamy curried parsnip soup with black rice

1 ½ cups black rice (or wild rice, if you can find it. Brown will also do)

Olive oil
2 medium or 1 large brown onion, chopped
1 large garlic clove, crushed or finely chopped
4 large parsnips (approximately 1 kilogram), peeled and chopped
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon garam masala
2 tablespoons curry powder (I use medium)
1 x 400ml can coconut cream
3 teaspoons vegetable or “chicken style” stock powder (I use Massel chicken style)
Enough boiling water to cover

 Place the black rice in a saucepan, add 2 cups water, cover and place on a high heat until it comes to the boil. Reduce to a simmer for approximately 30 minutes until the water is absorbed and the rice is tender. Turn off heat, place a tea towel over the top and replace the lid (I always do this with rice, it absorbs any extra moisture and makes it fluffy) to keep warm. Set aside.

 While the rice is cooking, make the soup.

 Put the kettle on to boil. Get a large stockpot out and drizzle a little olive oil on the base, then place on a low heat to heat up. Add the onion and garlic and fry for a few minutes until starting to soften. Add the parsnips, turmeric, garam masala and curry powder and cook for a couple of minutes, until fragrant but not turning brown. You can add water if it’s starting to stick.

Add the tin of coconut cream and stir to combine. I usually swirl out the can with boiling water and add that too, but be careful – boiling water makes cans very hot to touch! You can make up your stock separately in a jug with boiling water from the kettle but I usually don’t bother (don’t want the extra washing up!)  – I add the stock powder to the mixture in the pot and then top up with the boiling water so everything is covered and the stock powder has dissolved.

Either way, everything should now be in the stockpot (except for the rice) so stir well and bring the whole lot to the boil. Turn the heat down once it reaches boiling point, and simmer on a low heat for around 35 minutes, or until the parsnips are tender. My test is to see if they fall apart when pressed with the wooden spoon.

Puree the soup, either with a handheld blender (easiest, as you don’t really have to wait for it to cool down nor reheat it once pureed) or in a food processor, in which case you’ll need to wait for the mixture to cool before blending, and then heat up again before serving.

Taste for seasoning – I find the stock powder (albeit a reduced salt one) is salty enough, but a few turns of the pepper grinder finish it off nicely. To serve, place a large spoonful of black rice in the soup bowl, then ladle the hot silky-smooth parsnip soup on top. Place a sprinkling of black rice on the top to serve.

Ideally, eat in front of the TV on a freezing cold night – it’s guaranteed to make you feel all warm and cosy inside.

a little nostalgia

old-blog-fifteen-years-philippa-moore

I realised this morning that today was the day back in 2005 that I created a blogger account, selected this cutesy pink colour scheme and wrote my first ever blog post. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. That small action changed my life forever, in numerous ways.

And that means I have now been writing online for fifteen years!

I deleted my first blog a long, long time ago - but this morning I put the URL into an internet “time machine” to see if it brought it up … and it did (see screenshot above). Let that sink in, even if you deleted your website in 2007, it’s very likely that bots have crawled it and it’s saved somewhere!! Gosh, hasn’t web design come a long way since then? My first template was an SEO nightmare!

It’s really quite mind-blowing how much life has changed since that day. The 24-year-old girl who started that blog in 2005 was blissfully naive and had no idea what was coming, how hard her crash landing would be, how much courage she really had, and all the amazing experiences and people that were waiting for her.

But as she began to write and bare her soul to the world through this tiny little corner of the internet, somehow she could feel the reassuring hand of her future self on her shoulder.

remembering valerie lester

‘Do with your writing what you’re doing with your life,’ Val advised sagely. ‘Be brave.’

- from The Latte Years

Val and I on one of her friends’ boats in Annapolis, June 2007.

Val and I on one of her friends’ boats in Annapolis, June 2007.

My beloved friend, and the wonderful writer, translator and scholar, Valerie Lester passed away in June. How grateful I am that our paths crossed when she visited Hobart nearly 20 years ago. I owe her a great deal.

She was one of my greatest and most enthusiastic cheerleaders, set many wheels in motion for me and, as per the excerpt from my book above (which she loved), always encouraged me to be resilient and brave.

“I exhort you to keep writing,” she said in her last email to me.

Bloody Mary’s (I think!) in Annapolis, July 2007.

Bloody Mary’s (I think!) in Annapolis, July 2007.

A few weeks after Val’s passing, I learned I had been accepted into my PhD program, which I’ve now begun in earnest. I would have so loved to share that news with her. My PhD project was inspired by a tiny bit of research she asked me to do for her while she was writing her book about Phiz (Dickens’ principal illustrator), so it’s been nearly 15 years in the making. I hope I will do her proud. The project so far has been thrilling and I think it's going to be a real adventure. I'm so grateful to Val for leaving the first few crumbs on the trail for me.

What a talented, generous and fascinating person she was. I have so many happy memories of her and her husband Jim when I visited them in Annapolis in 2007. Most of them involve jazz music, poetry, and gin and tonics! They were both such dear friends and I miss them both very much.

With Val and Jim, Annapolis, July 2007.

With Val and Jim, Annapolis, July 2007.


Go well, dear Val. Until we meet again.  

when july was summer

Gin and tonics in our backyard last July.

Gin and tonics in our backyard last July.

Last July, it was summer, not winter.

Our one-way tickets to Australia were booked.

London wasn’t home any more. It’s a hard feeling to describe, when life is carrying on as much as it always has, but now there is no point buying plants for the garden, or that piece of furniture, for you know now there is an end date, and soon you will leave this corner of the earth. The house you live in and love will soon be someone else’s. You will disappear. It will be as if you had never been there at all.

Here is something I wrote at the time. Just some little observations. Things I wanted to remember.

Tom and I walking up to the street fair, July 2018

Tom and I walking up to the street fair, July 2018

8 July 2018

The third weekend in a row of high temperatures, the sun beating down, unfiltered by cloud. My shoulders tanned brown. Tom and I walk up to the village Green, where there’s a street fair. They’ve closed the road by the train station so the usually car-choked streets are filled with donkey rides, Enfield for Europe protestors, gin and tonic stands, a Mini convertible we know no one will win. The smells are intoxicating - Caribbean food, curries, kebabs, Vietnamese tofu grilled on hot coals, halloumi fries piled with pomegranate seeds.

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England are playing Sweden in the World Cup in a few hours so giant television screens are set up on the green, the air full of expectation. By the time we walk home with food for lunch, the streets will have emptied significantly. A few hours later, roars, screams and cheers will signal that England have triumphed. 

I linger at the plant stall, my favourite, full of varieties of sage and mint - apple, peppermint, pineapple. Heartsease, its purple flowers shaped like little hearts. House leeks, to ward off bad spirits. Thai basil, which I’m longing to cook with having been watching Rick Stein’s Far Eastern Odyssey. All the plants I would buy if we weren’t leaving. But it’s going to pain me to part with the ones I already have. I keep my coins in my purse and move on. 

plant-stall-london-philippa-moore

For weeks now we have lived on salads, veggie burgers, dips and raw vegetables, grains that can be cooked with water from the kettle. I can’t remember the last time I made pasta, soup or a curry. We have a little rain for the first time in nearly four weeks and my thirsty plants gulp it down.

The hard cantaloupe melon we bought yesterday, barely giving off a fragrance, is already ripe and begins to perfume the house. It is beginning to dip into a smell that is less perfume and more compost heap. I suspect we must eat it today.

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The smell of over-ripe melon will always make think of that last summer in London.

PS: The reason for the photos with captions on them is because a few days later, on 13 July - bizarrely, coinciding with Trump’s visit to London - my phone died and I hadn’t backed up any photos since May. The only way I could access these pics was through Instagram stories!