I went outside last night (yes, to have a fag!!!), into the gloaming. The evening was still and balmy. I was relaxing after work. I had a glass of wine in hand. All was right with the world.
And then it hit me.
Heavenly, sublime, luscious, nectar-of-the-goddesses, exquisite. All the words in the world, all the sublime superlatives.
My Indian next-door-neighbour was cooking.... something.
I raced inside to get my camera. I HAD to capture than smell.. and all that greeted my in the viewfinder was my boring-as-batshit back yard. I waved the camera around madly, as the smells changed and eddied around me. I HAD to find a way of capturing this scent!!!
It was a Suskind/Grenouille moment.
I was so frustrated that my view finder only showed me the picket fence and a darkening sky.
I threw the camera aside and stood there, on the balcony, inhaling the heady flavours and tried to think of words for it.
I wished I was one of those people who thought of words in colour.
There is simply no way that I can translate my experience last night to you. Words are merely that. And that is the downfall of food writing/food porn. How can I share with you the amazing, almost orgasmic scents that pooled and changed and eddied and swirled and changed again. I wanted there to be colours in the air a la Ratatouille, I wanted there to be music. I wanted there to be fireworks.
So here, as best I can, is my description of the smell of my backyard last night:
gingercarameldeepgreengarlicorangeburntonions
browingingopeningbarsofThusSpakeZarathustra.
entercorianderseedsfenugreeklemoncitrusca
ramelMozartAirscumindeepeningpeanutoilga
rammasala.tomatoesrichthickeningdee
peninglambheating1812Oveturefire
worksgalangalcardamomcinnamon.
But on my camera, all it looks like is a picket fence, grey clouds and a pittosporum.
Wednesday, 31 October 2007
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5 comments:
Ahhhh yes...what a shame we cant give something to our SLRs to make them describe the senses (but that's what your writing is for, dear woman). Indian neighbour, hey? I can almost smell the fresh turmeric and galangal from here with just a slight hint of Nag Champa incense. Lovely!
Absolutely love the new colour scheme, Goddess!!!
Cheers
Razzle.
Actually, the Nag Champa was wafting from MY house.. old hippy that I am!!
Nice to see you back here, darl!!!
I'm always here, my dear. I'm just too technically challenged to post comments (thanks for the tip). Absolutely loving your blog.
Cheers from another Nag Champa loving hippy
Razzle.
Ps racing off now to try out your honey ginger shallots.
Hello, I just thought you might like to try a place called Innocent Bystander, it's a winery at the end of the main drag in Healesville, they serve FABULOUS breakfast and the baked goods are heaven, the pink moscato is LOVELY (sweet, which I love) and while you are there you should visit the Healesville Hotel for food or their cafe next door for coffee and cake and eggs, meat, fruit, almost anything, even french cutlery... worth the visit. Oh and Bizarri Biscuits are just on Waverley Road in Malvern East, I used to live around the corner. Vida x x x
Aaah but you did capture it - I could smell it and feel it.
When I was just a tiny bit of
Sticky we lived just outside London and were tantalised with luscious Indian smells until Mum made friends with the neighbour and acquired the recipes. I ate my first curry at 3 years old. (My godson has been eating rice and curry since day dot - lucky boy.)
Later when we moved back to Melbourne Dad went and did an Indian bread making course. I have great memories as a 10 year old of rolling out puri's and parathas....and peking duck pancakes...but such were my family's eccentricities.
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