A Teaser of my life in France

Just a few shots from the first two days from France to let you know that France is treating me well so far and I’ve finally got what I’d been missing.

To a forest for mushroom picking…champignon, cèpe!

My first French style picnic back in France…wow…the home-made foie greas pate was absolutely amazing! I had to close my eyes for a few seconds for a little pray of gratitude and tears of joy .

Here comes the endless supply of fromage! CHEESE CHEESE CHEESE! Make sure you click on each image for bigger and better images.

Camembert rôti

L’art du fromage….amazing collection of chevre at a local farmer’s market…I almost fainted at the stall, I couldn’t breathe.

Je suis dans le paradis du fromage

I got the skinkiest of all…wow…

I’ve been eating different kinds of cheese everyday. You can wait for the story told by this cheese addict.

COMING SOON!

But not so soon because I am going to indulge in my new life for a while, as long as I can and want. So when you hear from me, that will mean that I’m getting bored!

I have no time to sit in front of the computer doing tap, tap, tap; I’d much rather do other activities to make the most of my time here.

Almond Citron Poppy Seed Cookies

It is really strange to post about this, which I made before I left Korea to come here, to France. These cookies were the last thing I made and I was planning to post as the last entry on my current blog, but I didn’t get around to doing it as I was busy organising my trip, well, not so much of organising to be honest, but more of saying goodbyes to people. My leaving was quite a compulsive last minute decision so everything was so rushed – I almost missed my flight because I got up late after drinking so much the night before – and I keep remembering all the things I left behind and forgot to do.

It’s been all done and there is no turning back.

Today I went to the supermarket to get some fruit as I realised that I hadn’t eaten any fruit since I arrived, but was annoyed to find that I bought the wrong clementine – mandarins.  Next time I will read the label more carefully for the origin.

Anyway, I’m not going to give away much of my French stories because I’m going to start a new blog about my French life, yes, brand new blog! So I will just focus on the cookies for now.

I’ve made similiar cookies before with Korean citron, yuja, but what I did differently this time was to use almond flour, poppy seeds, and again cardamom. I got very positive responses from people to whom I gave these cookies to try. I must say this is definitely a keep and a must-do again recipe. I loved the light and slight chewy texture as well as the nutty and citrusy flavour.

The trick to give a pattern on the cookies is to press the dough with a fork.

As I love the perfume of citrus fruit, I’m very generous with the amount of rind I add in. For this, I used sort of cyristalised citron peel my mum made, which gave the cookies a bit of chewiness.

My apology for this rushed post but I’d better leave it at this and move on. I’ve been in France for less than a week but I already have so many exciting stories to tell!

While tasting these, I was reminded of the cake I made years ago in Sydney for my flatemate, Maha. In that ill-equipped kitchen in the house I stay for only a short time, I baked this cake in a biscuit tin as there were no baking tools there. It was inspired by Iranian theme and Persian love cake and I remember feeling very proud after getting an approval from my Iranian flatmate.

I hope my intrepid spirits will guide me through this new adventure. I will come back with lots of exciting photos and stories soon. Till then….A bientot!

1 cup almond flour
1 cup all purpose flour
80g butter
1/3 cup citron marmalade
1 Tbsp water
½ cup brown sugar
½ cup baking soda
1 tsp cardamom
1 Tbsp citron peel

1.In a sauce pan, melt butter, water and marmalade and let it cool

2. Preheat the oven to 350′C and line the baking try

3.  In a large bowl, mix all the dry ingredients, pour in the butter mixture and mix the dough with a wooden sppon

4. Scoop the dough and roll it into a ball, then place on the tray and press the top with a fork to make a pattern

5. Bake for 12 mintutes and transfer to a rack to cool

SO EASY!

Crunchy Oats Millet Cookies

How many times have I posted about something on my blog on the day I make it? It’s pretty rare, right? When it happens that I write about it on the day while the excitement is hot and rising like soufflé and finish it off in one go, it feels so…good like the cookies I’m eating right now while writing about them.

<Oats Millet Cookies>

As you’ve noticed, there aren’t many posts written during my stay in Korea that make you go “Hmm..that’s a cool recipe. Maybe I should give it a try some day.” For one, many of the ingredients I want to use aren’t available here, and for two, which might be more an honest answer, I don’t get the desire to make things that are, let’s say, not a general taste for people you’re going to share them with. The reason one puts hours into making something, thinking of the potential mouths it will end up in is to see faces of approval and delight, not the faces of confusion and disgust. So depending on who I cook for, I make compromises and adjustments to the original recipes, which isn’t always encouraging and rewarding. Koreans tend to have very limited palates and natural aversions to exotic spices, especially Indian, such as cumin, turmeric and fennel.

I think Indian cuisine is so vibrant and exciting as is its culture. It’s a synonym for life; life should be like the sensation you feel through the whole of your body while eating Indian food. I love the various aromas infused in each dish, though some Koreans call them “revolting smells” – my apology for their ignorance and lack of experience. Every time I meet Koreans who haven’t tried Indian food because of the smell, I urge them to try, explaining to them, often frantically, how wonderful and addictive the flavours are and also how they shouldn’t get put off by the first experience and should give it a few tries.    I think it’d be a real tragedy should one die without knowing so many other flavours from all around the world.

So due to the absence of spice-smitten audience, I haven’t really used the spices I got delivered from overseas almost a year ago like nutmeg, cloves, star anise and cardamom. Then I didn’t know I could get those spices here, but now I see more and more spices appear on the supermarket shelve. Still I think it’d be years before the names of more unusual spices like smoked paprika, targine and cardamom make sense. The spices I’ve used the most besides Italian herbs are smoked paprika, turmeric, cinnamon, and Moroccan mix, and today, digging in the box of my spice provision, I found an unopened packet of cardamom. Incidentally, I was led to this fascinating site, Season with Spice, which instantly became my absolute favourite, while searching for millet recipes.

My mum sent me a package of home-grown sweet potatoes, persimmons and millet grains three days ago. As she always cooks rice with mixed grains, plain white rice feels like something of forbidden fruit to me, so when I’d run out of grains I rang her to ask whether I should buy them from the local weekly farmers market, she said she’d just got a big bag of home-harvested millets from my auntie so she sent me some of that.

Knowing the growers of the produces I buy or being connected to them somehow takes away my anxiety of whether they are safe to eat, so when I cook with them, I pay extra care to get the best out of them and to not waste much. The experience is so wonderful that supermarket-bought groceries don’t give me the same joy and sense of being nourished, and to be honest, they taste like plastic, missing the essence of flavour.

Reading the stories of spices and looking at the colourful foods, I tried to trace my memory back for all the scents described there. My nose and tongue had been missing being stimulated and inspired by various smells and tastes. So I immediately deserted my plan to make more Anzac biscuits for my friend and reprogrammed my brain for a recipe that has millets and cardamom.

<Millet flour>

I revised her recipe to make non-vegan and crispier by adding butter and egg. I also threw in some dried cranberries for a tangy bite to give these otherwise macho cookies a bit of feminine taste and some coconuts to balance the earthy cardamom flavour, but I think it’s not necessary as it was too subtle to be tasted. At first, I was going to cook the millets thinking they might result in too crunchy texture instead of grinding them, but I opted for grinding, leaving a tablespoonful to thrown in raw. I need to advise you, however, to cook millets before using if you’re going to do that as I found raw millets, though perfectly safe to eat, a bit too crunchy.

Where the pumkin seeds? You might wonder. I decided that they would just complicate the already wonderful flavours so I left them out, and when I tasted the result, I was glad I did.

<Crunchy Oats Millet Cookies>

I waited nervously while they were cooking and I became relieved to see them forming a nice shape and was very curious how they would taste. So I couldn’t help but to grab one on its way onto the rack to be cooled and took a bite. It was so…good, and I felt the imminent danger of making a new record of finishing half the batch in one sitting.

Millet Oats Cookies

- potentially gluten-free and vegan friendly

Yield: Two dozen medium to large cookies

1 cup rolled oats
1/2 cup oat flour (ground in a blender)
1 cup millet flour (ground in a blender)
1/4 cup millet
1/4 cup all purpose flour (optional – I add it for a lighter texture but skip it for a gluten free diet – just increase the amount of oat or millet flour)
1/3 cup desiccated coconut
½ cup butter, melted
¾ cup brown sugar
1/3 cup cranberries, chopped into small pieces
1 egg
1 tsp cardamom
½ tsp baking soda

1. Preheat the oven to 350′C and line the baking tray

2. In a large bowl, combine all the flours, oats, coconut, baking soda, cranberries and cardamom, and toss well.

3. In another bowl, mix butter, sugar and egg

4. Mix the dry and wet mixture together with a wooden spoon

5. Spoon onto the prepared cookie sheet and flatten slightly and bake for 12-15 min.

6. Transfer to a rack and wait for them to cool – don’t surrender to the temptation of grabbing one right off the tray and burn your finger tips, wait and enjoy the crispy and cruncy texture.

Perfect Anzac Biscuits tweaked and twisted

Something must have got into me because I gave a really long and hard thought to making my dream of opening a little cafe come true. Where? In Seoul, a place where I least fit in, where I can’t find a decent loaf of bread, where people cast the accusing look, “Watch where you’re going!” when bumping into each other on the street, where people shove each other and never say “Sorry”, and…where I get almost suffocated on public transports during rush hour, which I dread the most. So why do I even consider the idea? Hmm..a good question, though even I am struggling to find answers to the very question myself. It’s a fight between me trying to completely cut off the invisible umbilical cord deeply rooted in the hardened soil that has no nutrients for my growing soul and me still inclined to root even deeper for the moisture of support and comfort.

While tossing up several options for my next moves, autumn has quickly settled  in but the impatient winter seems to force its way in blowing the colourful leaves off the trees.

People call me WEIRD when I say that I spend most of my earning for the pleasure of cooking and eating, – isn’t it better than buying expensive clothes and bags? – make plans for dinner while eating lunch and prefer conversations instead of watching TV while eating. The craziest of all reasons is probably that I travel 2 hours to get a loaf of bread.

Then one day it struck me that I might be a savior to make these people experience another way of life, another flavour, and the importance of putting time aside to appreciate the food they put into their mouth, which led me to the decision to open a cafe in the most vibrant and fashionable spot in Korea, known as Hongdae, the University of Fine Arts and Design. Yes, I might have had my head hit by something really hard, and indeed I WAS recently struck by some good sourdough loaves.

How it all began was that one grey Friday morning I ventured out to the Hongdae area to survey the local and also to try out five bakeries claimed to make authentic French style pastries and sourdough bread. I found only two of them were worth going back to and the place called “October”, where everything is made with organic ingredients and sourdough starter, was my pick because it had the most authentic feel, the widest range and the best looking olive ciabatta, and the sample of walnut and apricot sourdough and French baguette were really good. So I bought pumpkin bread, seedy grain sourdough and tomato olive ciabatta and was very anxious to try them.

They got my approval. Thanks.

While looking for the bakeries, I was amazed not only by the number of cafes and restaurants but also by how lavish they looked. How many of them would be actually worth a try? Are these just the places where rich young adults, no, young adults with rich parents hang out? What about those with less fortunate parents? Do they not deserve the same special treats without breaking their bank? Why does eating gorgeous meals have to be so expensive? Sadly, a big portion of the money people pay in these places goes to cover the high cost of lease not the quality of the produce they use for cooking. That’s why I prefer small and rustic places tucked away in unlikely places to avoid snobs and I don’t mind going extra distance for an exquisite and delightful meal, and I won’t complain about the lack of decorations and paintings on the wall. You can imagine me dining in a white empty space with nothing but dimed lights, a table laiden with scrumptious food and a pleasant and welcoming waiter, plus a nice and generous guy who is as good a eater as me

Among these unappealing places, two interesting places pulled me to a stop. One is a bar called “Edith Piaf” and the other a wine bar called “Toto’s Corner Wine Bar”(I think that was the name, but I’m not sure), where two lovely dogs were enjoying lazy Friday morning while waiting for their owner to open the bar.

It was almost 11am but many of the cafes in the area were still closed or just opening, but all other non-food shops were still shut with no sign of opening anytime soon. Even the bakeries haven’t put out all of their items, which was very different to European countries. Not good for early risers like me :p

While wandering through small streets adorned with charming little cafes, I thought to myself that I could have my own cafe and open up the “bored” people to the exciting world of various flavours and races with my god-given gifts: my cooking and daredevil personality. Is it just another fantasy I need to wake up out of? I felt confident that my cafe would have the best of the flavours from the world over and be a place where people mingle sharing their life stories while learning English, food culture and cooking in the most natural environment. People ask questions like “How are you going to make profit?” and my response is always “Is it important?”, then they go, “What is the purpose of doing business?”, and I go, “To make a living doing what I want and am good at. Would it benefit both me and my customers?” All I get is “Are you kidding?” But I wasn’t and am not!

Why can’t I bake good wholesome bread and cookies and serve them with a nice cup of hot chocolate made with pure cocoa powder, not the sickly sweet mix, and why can’t I serve a glass of wine with an assortment of homemade dips, salami and cheese? Why can’t I invite people to eat with me since I cook everyday anyway and get them to pay whatever they think the food was worth? Why can’t I have people to bring whatever food items they feel like for the day for me to cook for them and they pay me at the end for the food as well as for a bit of cooking lessons? Am I getting crazy here? Hello, hello, wake up!

The second baking session:

<Chocolate Almond Cookies and Butter Orange Cookies>

I mean, honestly, when I had the third baking session with my brother’s girlfriend, she mentioned that she’d never heard or tasted anything like my banana bread and oat cookies. She got absolutely bowled over by the sweet aroma of coconut in the Anzac biscuits, saying I could sell just that in my cafe. They are awesome, wholesome cookies as they are, however, my tweaked version of Anzac biscuits has raisins and is crispy with slight chewiness. These biscuits are so good and heart winners, beating chocolate cookies hands down, and you can’t stop at just one and I usually eat 4 or 5 in one go and don’t feel guilty at all.

I hope Anzac biscuit purists don’t get offened by my a(du)lteration because seriously it adds an extra burst of flavour and also reduces the amount of sugar in the recipe. My theory is that sugar is the baddie we need to avoid not butter.

I’m so glad that I’ve finally managed to post a recipe on my favourite Anzac biscuits. I realised how much I’d ignored writing recipes of the food I cook or talk about, often because it’s so common and the recipes are available on the net, but then when I want to remake the thing, I don’t remember the variations I made before. That’s why I’m writing down my version of the recipe that’s been approved by me after many trials. I hope you will have success with the recipe, too.

Anzac Biscuits with a twist

Ingredients: makes 24

1 cup flour (all-purpose or whole wheat pastry)
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup finely shredded non-sweetened coconut
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup raisins or sultanas (chopped into smaller pieces if possible as it helps the dough to bind better)
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
120g  butter
2 tablespoons golden syrup or honey
1 tablespoon boiling water
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1. Preheat oven to 175’C and line a baking tray.
2. Sift flours into a bowl and add rolled oats, coconut and sugar, and stir with a spoon until well combined
3. Melt butter in a small saucepan over low heat and add golden syrup and water
4. Continuously stir butter mixture until golden syrup is dissolved.
5. Take off the heat and add bicarbonate of soda. Stir until all lumps are broken up.
6. Add butter mixture to dry mixture and stir thoroughly with a wooden spoon.
7. Using hands, form the dough into small balls and press them between your palms before placing them on the tray
8. Bake for 10 mins or 15 mins for crispier texture.

A Slice of Me Full of Faults, but trying to improve

Some people are afraid of making mistakes, myself included. I’m the type who would stubbornly dig around, suffering in silence, for answers that can easily be found just by asking people. To me, asking for help meant admitting the lack of my ability. The fear, I figure, comes from the fear of being judged and criticised by parents and teachers as a teenager, and I often associate making mistakes with failure as if falling into a deep, deep puddle, which gives me anxiety and stops me from trying a new thing. But the truth is that the puddle is never deeper than ankle high and you only get your shoes and pants wet. When you finally turn for help, it always seems too late and the embarrassment bigger. You think you will be more confident when you know more, but having more knowledge hasn’t helped me to overcome the fear, so far, resulting in higher expectations. So I tend to think the best strategy for me is spontaniety, which leads me to rely on fate and to give too much meaning to my surroundings, whether it be people, things, or natural occurences.

<Annual Lantern Festival in Jinju>

In my early times of cooking, I used to be bold with new and unusual recipes, and I point to the fact that I was a newbie, therefore was concerned very little about screwing things up considering everything I did as an experiment and I really had fun playing around with recipes, putting a dollop of me in here and there,and also with photos, shooting a point-and shoot camera, but over time my cooking and photography seem to have taken on a conventional and rather copy-cat style with less risk and consequently the sheer pleasure of cooking has been somewhat adulterated with my obsession with perfection and trends, resulting in losing my unique style. Another thing I’ve realised since I got this new expensive camera set is that a new anxiety of being accepted started to surface, and funnily enough, my satisfaction with cooking and photography has been working counter to the price of my equipments. But before I knew better and got the fancy gear, it was all about offering and showing something of me and being appreciated because I found that when it comes to food, people tend to be more forgiving; no one spits the food at you no matter how horrible it is.

funny, silly, capturing the world with an unusual sense of humour..that used to be me

There are many sayings on mistakes; making mistakes isn’t a shame but not learning from the mistakes is, people who never make mistakes never try new things, the more mistakes you make the more you learn, people only regret not having tried, not having failed, and so forth – you probably know better ones than I do. Anyhow, they all ring deep inside me. I shouldn’t afraid of screwing up and keep trying, one thing at a time. My problem is to try many things at once and it is also the case in cooking. I always cook two things at the same time to save time and the result is always a disaster, not happy with none of the two like the prawns I screwed up by grilling on a bed of sea salt and forgetting to leave holes on the top for the steam to escape, so what I got in the end was awfully salty and dry prawns. They tasted as if they had been soaked in Dead Sea-like brine, eww…yuck! The memory will haunt me every time I grill prawns on salt.

I’m going to go off topic here for a bit.

I often wondered what it’d be like to witness death or to have someone close to me die, but I’ve finally experienced it and felt a body losing warmth and stiffening up, through a dog dying in my hands. Now I can imagine – I’d never been able to before this happened – what it is like. It was a big wake up call for me in some ways. I wrote about her in the previous post and wondered if she felt that her time was coming to an end prior to her disappearance and just ran off to die alone away from her loved ones, but I feel she was lucky to die in her home not in the cold place with strange dogs where we found her. That made me think that it’d be lucky in a way to die beside someone I love, but then it wouldn’t be fair for the person who has to watch me dying. I can only hope and try to make sure is that I don’t die of illness and I hope she was happy because she died of old age.

I just thought I had to mention the tragic event since it brought me to think of important things and people in life and I hope you didn’t mind reading it. I sometimes stumble upon a food blog whose owner is fighting for cancer but is still cooking and talking about what she is going through. And I thought, “Wow, would I be able to do that?” Staying positive in difficult situations is the key for happiness in the end.

People have fond memories connected to certain food and for me banana bread seems to take a special place in my heart as I tend to offer this simple bread loaded with goodness and extra love to people who cross my paths. And sometimes I think the length of encounter with someone isn’t necessarily proportional to the significance of it. Just like banana bread, because I bake it so often that I’ve forgotten till this moment to document it.

I love adding wheat bran in my banana bread and try to add a little in my baking whenever I can. And one day it struck me that the barley malt that Koreans use to make a rice punch would work perfectly in my banana bread recipe. Even though I didn’t use it for this time, I should remember to get some for the next time.

Another change made to the original recipe is the reduced amount of butter in favour of vegetable oil, not because I don’t like butter, mind you I’m absolutely in love with it since my trip to France, but because I find oil makes the bread more moist for some reason. So I substituted 2 tablespoons of grapeseed oil for the missing butter, and since it’s nutty and brany I didn’t taste the lack of butter.

The recipe yields a bigger sized loaf, I should point out, and the reason mine isn’t quite big is that I saved some of the mixture to make a mini banana bread for myself so that the person would receive a perfect looking whole loaf that eliminates the suspicion that a portion of the bread might have got lost on the way. Yes, I’m the sneaky Nancy pants!

I do appolise for this yet another boring banana bread recipe. Please give your kind and forgiving heart to this one because, believe or not, it’s my first time to actually POST a recipe for banana bread despite the fact that the hundred loaves have gone into my throat. So I can say this recipe has been tested and approved…by WHOM? 

Moist Healthy Delicious Banana Bread

1/3 cup (115 grams) walnuts or pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped (optional)
1/2 cup bran
1 2/3 cups (230 grams) all-purpose flour
3/4 cup (150 grams) brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
80g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1/3 cup buttermilk
3 ripe large bananas (approximately 1 pound or 454 grams), mashed well (about 1-1/2 cups)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C) and line a 4×8 loaf pan.
2. Whisk eggs, sugar and vanilla, and mix in butter and banana.
3. Mix in the dry ingredients
4. Pour the mixture into the pan and bake for 1 hour. Cool on a rack.

Wrapping up October

I’m completely exhausted with all those frequent trips I’ve made to and fro between different cities, the late nights of binge-socialising for giving my good-byes, and more venturing outside while weaving together the series of events that has happened since I came to Korea and also pondering possible events that could alter my future. We all do a binge thingy from time to time whether it be eating, drinking, shopping, loving or blogging or whatever, even if it is bad for you.

<Mania Street>

Anyway, another reason I feel so tired with pain on my back and shoulders is that I’ve carrying my new bulky camera bag on my shoulders every single day, ditching my girly handbag for it. To tell you briefly about the new purchase, now that it’s already been mentioned, I had mixed feelings of excitement, anxiety and disappointment when I finally upgraded my camera and lenses, but I think I’m slowly regaining the confidence I had before I got them. Getting used to a new thing always involves a tough transient time, doesn’t it? Though I’ve been testing my new camera, it has been mostly on the twins and nature, not much on food because I’ve been staying away from the kitchen this month and have been eating out a lot instead, which led to some decent dining experience, yes, finally, and all by chance.

<Grilled Mushroom Salad with Homemade Ricotta at La Notte>

So I’ve been writing articles about the places on my two other blogs, as you might know, one for The KoreaTaste Org, and two for my Korean blog, where I practice my Korean writing skills. So my brain’s very busy and confused switching between two languages, and I sometimes feel as if my brain was in the neutral state, ready to change its gear at any given moment. Despite the myth about bilingual kids being smarter and more efficient, I feel so dumb most of the time and feel like my brain is in the vacuum state until there is something to absorb. You won’t know what it must be like unless you’re a bilingual. It’s been an interesting experience thinking in English and speaking in Korean. Anyway, my keeping up with the other blogs would probably explain my absence from this site. For that, I’m very sorry to my invisible readers.

<The Fortress Wall surrounding Seoul>

As much as I’ve been trying to cramp what I can do into the limited time I’ve got, I’ve been trying not to engage myself in any situations that might give me more opportunities to do more work. This isn’t a nice feeling; it is like walking a green mile in a way. Odd analogy? Well, you want to do the things on your wishlist because it is your last chance to do so but then you don’t want to do anything because you don’t see the point doing so for you will soon be dead, right? And there is also the process of endless and random flashbacks, fears and regrets, etc. As you have no clues of how complicated my situation is, all my emotional and philosophical thinking, in other word, whining and wallowing, for the last year might have left you wondering what the heck all that is about, right? But to say just one thing to assist with your understanding, – I’m a girl of few words, you see? I don’t talk much but I like to feel things and blogging helps to organise my thoughts – I’ve been living by deadlines; I’ve executing my own life by setting a time limit. I should shake off my fear for what would come in 2 years time and try to enjoy what is in front of me, hoping that at the end of this walk is waiting not an electric chair but a comfy couch with many woolly cushions. Ah, why 2 years? Well, you should wait and find out yourself what happens to me in 2 years. Only I will be laughing about it looking back on what I went through.

The weather suddenly turned cold overnight and I found myself blowing hot air over my hands while out helping my friend, Mr. Skinny, sticking ‘Lost dog’ flyers on to lampposts around the neighbourhood. That night I thought that if that happens to me, I’d rather put flyers in the letterboxes because that would increase the chance of it being seen by people and reduce the risk of it being taken down by council workers. Sorry for the off-topic.

Of many stupid things I’ve done in October, the two stupidest things are allowing myself to be stuck with the twins for a week and walking for 4 hours along the ancient fortress wall, all by accident. Come to think of it, many of the events that have happened in my life have been the results of accidentality and sponteneousity. Someone said to me once that I live my life like a candle in the wind, like Merlin Monroe. I sometimes wonder if my damsel-in-distress-like life would have something to do with the damn beauty spot, though to Koreans it means a foodie spot, not a beautie spot.

One morning I just went on a walking spree with an excuse for the shots of autumn trees in beautiful colours, but not only did I not see much of colourful leaves but I ended up somewhere I had least expected. Half the walk was good until I kept being interrupted by the guard warning me not to take photos for the military security.

I felt quite sad that the place that could have been one of the most beautiful places on earth had to be spoiled by the watchful eyes of military guards popping out at every 50 metres. Damn it! I was desperate to take photos.

So I tried to take sneaky photos by pointing and pressing the shutter button while the camera still hanging low down my chest and got caught once by a guard and asked to delete the photos I had just taken. I, relieved that he didn’t confiscate my camera, complied with his orders and deleted all the photos while he was watching me do it. God, I must say that I understood for a second what it must be like to be an undercover or spy. Would I be eligible to be one? Hmm…maybe?

<Bullet marks left by the North Koreans during the 1968 geurilla attack in an attemp to assasinate the President in the South>

I saved one photo that I didn’t want to delete by quickly pressing the delete button till the second last and pressing delete while turning off the camera at the same time before the screen showed the next photo. I did it very quickly so that he wouldn’t notice both the photo and my hands shaking. But after that, I felt like I was being followed and my heart dropped whenever I saw the guards whispering into their walkie talkies. Cursing my huge lens and trying not to do anything suspicious, I deliberately walked at a slower speed, stopping within their eyeshot, even making conversations with them.

<Click on the image to enlarge>

Looking over the concrete city with high rises, I said to myself, “What am I doing here?” “I don’t belong here.” But the area near the fortress, so called The Blue House Neighbourhood, is one of the most prestigious residential areas where all the high government officials live compared to Gangnam and Apgujeong where money makers live. It seemed ridiculous even seeking a new opportunity in the country where only a few privileged have the luxury of living in tree lined streets with good cafes and bakeries of average quality, which can be found everywhere in Sydney, except for the interior. They seem to throw a lot of money into turning the place into an Alice in Wonderland sort of fantasy world that is filled with out-of-place props that only serve the purpose of filling the space; no uniqueness, no meanings, no personality. I hope they pay more attention to the quality of food and service as this city is so in need of places that can help to broaden and refine people’s palate.

I’ve just heard the news that this weekend is going to be the peak time for the autum exhibitionof multi-coloured paintings drawn by the nature. I’d better pack my camera bag again for a trip to a nearest mountain.

<Click on the image to enlarge>