That day after I finished my morning routine, I sat down and checked my phone. My friend, who is also a neighbour of mine, sent me a photo not long ago, showing the bag of coffee beans she left on my cabinet at the front door. She also left a note – “The beans were roasted on 8 May and will be ready to use by mid- or end of next week.” She once told me that freshly roasted coffee beans should be “aged” for a while before grinding and brewing. I know nothing about the science of coffee. A cup of rich Italian espresso brewed by my trusty moka pot was what I always reached for at home. Fuss free. However, from a recent visit at someone’s home, I was so hooked by the pour over coffee they brewed. The fruitiness, acidity, chocolate note and body were so lovely that I have been musing on learning to make pour over coffee myself. Later, I found an amateur set of gooseneck pots, filter paper and a dripper at home. All I needed was some good coffee beans then.
Another neighbour friend brought me some hojicha drip bags from Kyoto a while back, so I started using the gooseneck pot for brewing the tea for now. It was the first time I used this kind of pot with such a narrow and elongated spout. I tore open the hojicha drip bag, gently and steadily, I poured water into it in circular motion, and when the stream of water touched the tea leaves, it formed sounds of water that differed by how high and low, and fast and slow of the pour. In the brief moment of tea brewing, unexpectedly, I felt a sense of calmness, which reinforced my wish for brewing pour over coffee. Then, in a few days, my friend brought over fine coffee beans without prior notice. She used to frequent a roastery café in Melbourne, and now orders coffee beans from it on a regular basis. The roastery sends over freshly roasted beans and she sent me some as she remembered I’m too a coffee drinker. For a second I was utterly taken aback by the power of my thoughts – coffee beans, think of it, then you have it.
My fondness of food and drink is probably rooted in my friends’ hearts that they bring me such souvenirs from around the world – a fine ceramic “rice bowl” (which, I found out when unboxing it, was in fact a chawan used in tea ceremony), specialty flour from the northern hemisphere, artisanal tomato sauce made from the southern hemisphere, spring tea harvested in a secluded private tea farm in Taiwan, spices from the Middle East, seasonings of all sorts and even seasonal fruit and vegetables from different parts of the world. Now, I even own a chasen. As someone who is not particularly fond of matcha, I attended unplanned tea ceremony class two or three times in Japan, and a while back, I had another class with a friend when she asked if I wanted to join her. Traditional Japanese tea ceremony is anything but simple. A few trial classes would not have equipped me with the ability to even hold the water ladle gracefully. However, it was still a pleasant experience to spend time with a friend and learn something together.
After I got home, I put the freshly ground matcha powder into the kitchen cabinet alongside other teas from different places in the world. Despite my daily brew of tea, it is not catching up with the accumulation of the teas, so, I sometimes use it in cooking and make pastries to share with friends. As I glance around my kitchen, I see jars and packets of gifts from others. It fills my heart when I think of my friends having me in their mind when they travel or even in town. Be it food, material objects or even a picture sent from afar, they all are a token of remembrance. Whether it can be held in hand or not, it is the interconnectedness that touches us. And believe it or not, when you think of me, I am thinking of you too.
Ingredients (makes 2 servings):
For the pudding
Gelatin 5g
Boiling water 10g
Almond milk (can be replace with milk or other plant-based milk) 1 cup/225g
Sugar 10g
Matcha powder 3g
Vanilla extract ½ teaspoon
For the glutinous rice balls
Japanese glutinous rice flour 100g
Water 90g
Iced water A bowl
Others
Matcha powder 1.5g
80°C water 60ml
Candied red bean To taste
Rice crispy To taste
Steps:
To make the pudding, melt the gelatin in boiling water, mix well and let it sit for 5 minutes. In a small pot, add almond milk, sugar, sieved matcha powder, vanilla extract and the gelatin mixture. Stir well over medium heat until the sugar, matcha powder and gelatin are well dissolved and combined. Pour the mixture into two containers and let cool for a while. Keep them in the fridge for at least 4 hours or overnight.
To make the glutinous rice balls, add the ingredients into a bowl and mix well until it forms a smooth dough. Take 8g of the dough and roll it into a ball between your palms. Dimple one side of the rice balls. The dough will make roughly 24 rice balls.
Bring a pot of water to a boil, put the rice balls in and let them boil for 1-2 minutes until they are afloat. Take the rice balls out and put them into the iced water. Uncooked rice balls can be kept in the freezer.
Pour some hot water into a bowl or chawan to warm it and put the chasen into the bowl to soften the bamboo strands. Drain the bowl after a minute and pat dry the bowl. Add 1.5g matcha powder through a sieve into the bowl, add hot water and mix it with the chasen by an up and down movement like you are writing a “W” in the bowl until the tea turns frothy.
Unmold the pudding into a shallow bowl, add the glutinous rice balls and candied red bean and pour the matcha from the side. Top it off with some puffed rice.
Jo Liu
It’s raining outside, crisp and bleak. Three chubby sparrows took shelter on my balcony and I gave them the baguette bits left on my breakfast plate but they flew away. I stayed in, played Damien Rice on vinyl and made apple crumble. Repeat.