So Mote It Be!

Recipe of the Day: Pasta and Corned Beef Casserole

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sun, 25 Jan 2015 08:10:00 +0000

I am a lazy mom. I don't like to spend hours in the kitchen. When my kids demand food, I usually try to make the easiest dishes.

This one probably takes about 40-50 minutes, and the preparation is less than 10 minutes.

Casseroles are hearty and easy to make. True, you need an oven (you can also use a steamer, though) but you can make them in oh-so-many ways. That way, your family (in my case, kids) will marvel at how creative I am, how diverse my repertoire is. (Ha ha!)

Pasta and Corned Beef Casserole
for a casserole dish, for four people (maybe more, if you are not that greedy)

Ingredients:
- 1 cup of pasta (I used fusilli), boiled according to your liking (some like 'em al dente, but if you like 'em softer, it's up to you), strained using a colander
- 2 eggs
- 1 can of corned beef (I used 250 grams)
- 50 gr of grated mozzarella
- Butter / spray cooking oil for the casserole dish

Coat the casserole dish with butter / spray cooking oil evenly. Pour the boiled pasta and spread evenly on the dish. Break the eggs and mix them with corned beef. Pour it on the pasta. Top it with grated mozzarella. Bake for 30-40 minutes.

That's it! That easy, huh? You can use another pasta, add grated vegetables, use minced meat, add some mashed potatoes, or use tofu instead of meat.

It's Been a Year...

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Thu, 31 Jul 2014 10:52:00 +0000

...since you left this world. You see a gaping hole in my soul? You took it with you. A part of me will always be yours, like I keep some parts of you deep inside.

Many people have asked us, how is it that we could be friends? I don't know. I just knew that from the first moment we wrote emails to each other, we formed a bond that even death (hopefully) couldn't break. We knew that we could rely on each other.

I will remember, I will always remember. The laughter we shared, the tears we shed. All these years, we have accumulated layers upon layers of memories. You are irreplaceable. You are one of a kind. You taught me a lot, you helped me grow and become a better person. Thank you, Shin Yu, thank you.

This is what I wrote in Facebook, to remember you:

A year ago, you left us.

You told me you were lucky. You knew death was coming, and death would knock at your door in near future. So you were prepared. You finally found God and peace, and I was happy for it. You embraced the inevitable, and in a way, I was envious of you.

My caring, beautiful Shin Yu...

I've known you for many years. You were there when I fell in love. You were also there when he hurt me so, when he finally showed his true colors (and no, they weren't pretty). You were there when I found the one, when I married him and started a family with him. I'd like to think that I was there for you too, during your happy and not-so-happy times. We were and still are best friends.

A year later, when your husband told me about your passing, it took a minute or two before it dawned on me. You left this world. I broke into tears, because I was selfish. I did not think of you first, Shin Yu. I thought about ME first. What about me? You left, and I'd never be able to see you. Talk to you. A part of me died that day...

And then, slowly I understood what it meant. It meant you were free. You no longer had to endure the pain. You no longer had to take medications that rendered you almost comatose. You were free to move on. And somehow, I believe one day we will meet again.

It's been a year. Many things have changed. Your boys are bigger now, and they are great role models to their cousins. I am saying this not because I am their Indonesian mom, not because I love them so. I am stating the truth, because that is what I perceive. Your boys are in good hands.

Your husband is better now, I think. He was devastated when you left. He did not have to tell me this. I know how much he loves you, how he values you. Now he is starting to accept it. He knows it's the best for you. I am keeping my promise, Shin Yu. I always pray for your husband and sons.

We miss you. And remembering you still brings pain. Eventually it will fade, and we can remember you with a smile.

I'd like to picture you somewhere on the clouds, talking with my Mama. I imagine you are smiling, so radiant and happy, so free.

Until we meet again.

One word to describe you, my friend: 忘れられない.

I love you, Nina Higa.

Eid Mubarak!

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sun, 27 Jul 2014 17:46:00 +0000

To me, Ramadan is a time to reflect and ponder. It is a reminder that we could do it if we want to. We could deny ourselves food and drink for many hours, we could try to rein our emotions, we could even try to grow more pity and compassion in our hearts.

At first, fasting might be hard. But after a while you get used to it, you begin to appreciate the simplicity and practical side of it. As a homemaker, it means I only have to cook twice daily, for suhoor and iftar. Scheduled eating time means I have more time to work and play with my kids. And I could even read more during Ramadan. I could read Holy Qur'an more and even read the Indonesian version daily.

And this reminds me, it's just a matter of priority. Of scheduling. You can do a number of things during regular months, but sometimes you choose not to do it. Yes, I am also guilty of this. Sometimes we are so caught up in mundane activities that we forget to nurture our spiritual side...

Ramadan is a good month to remember that we need the balance. Chasing deadlines and all are all good, but without contentment and peace, it's stressful. We need to develop more love and appreciation for what we have. With that, we'll be able to live to the fullest.

Ramadan is over this year, and as always I feel a pang of sadness and hope. I hope God will grant me another chance to experience Ramadan next year.

I hope Ramadan will calm our inner turmoil, soothe our troubled souls. I hope we'll become a better version of ourselves.

Insha Allah.

Day 11: A Deceased Person I Wish I Could Talk To

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sat, 26 Jul 2014 15:55:00 +0000

When my mom was pregnant, she had this weird craving to read about Michelangelo's biography. That would be my name, if I turned out to be a boy. Yes, my name, Angela, is derived from Michelangelo.

Assuming I could speak Italian, and I could somehow spend some time conversing with him, I'd bring a digital recorder, some notebooks, and ask oh-so-many-questions. I want to learn many things from him. I want to know how his mind works, how he turns a piece of 'thing' into objet d'art. I want to know what really fuels him. I want to watch him work. I want to see his hands, the hands with the power of creation.

And I really want to know what his favorite foods are.

(Yeah, I'm always interested in food.)

Day 10: Someone I Don't Talk to As Much As I'd Like To

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sat, 26 Jul 2014 15:33:00 +0000

I wish I could talk more to my best friend's husband. He and I write emails almost daily, yet due to our hectic lives, sometimes we only manage to write short mails. He is a single dad with two almost teenage sons, and I myself have a son and daughter to take care of. I wish one day we'd be able to talk more about our lives.

He is an honorable man. My late best friend admired him so much. I admire him too, for his strength and attention to details. He and I were raised in different countries, different families. Yet we share many similar values. We often share difficulties and joy in raising children.

And almost everyday, he shares flower pictures from his neighborhood. Such a sweet man.

My best friend told me several times, how lucky she was to have him. He made her happy, he took care of her. Even until the end, he was there for her.

Day 9: Someone I Wish I Could Meet

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Thu, 24 Jul 2014 14:37:00 +0000

I raised my eyebrows upon reading this challenge. Really? Just "someone"? Tough, this is tough.

I'll just pick someone at random, then.

I wish I could meet Adachi Mitsuru.

I want to observe him create an illustration or a manga. I want to discuss his preference in telling a story. I want to learn a lot from him, and of course, I'd like to yell at him several times for creating that kind of ending for the manga Q and A.

Day 8: My Favorite Internet Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Thu, 24 Jul 2014 14:21:00 +0000

Several of my internet friends are my "friends", if you know what I mean.

Some have them have become true friends, they have stood by me through thick or thin.

My best friend, for instance, was once an internet friend, but our friendship blossomed and we've become great buds.

Most of my internet friends and I have several things in common: we love books and pets (mostly cats and dogs, though several prefer birds); we enjoy a variety of things, and we are open to new things.

So who are my favorites? All of them are. Because they give different insights, different ideas. I once conversed with a person from Israel, and she showed me how it feels to be an Israeli. My internet friend from Azerbaijan shared how rich and diverse their culture is. (I am ashamed to say that before that, I knew next to nothing about this country!) My internet friends from UK and the States taught me the joy of the changing of season, and how beautiful their spring and summer flowers are. My internet friends in Singapore and Malaysia and Philippines showed me that our cultures are similar but not that similar. My internet friend from Vietnam gave me a new perspective on how it feels to be a Vietnamese, during modern times. My internet friend from The Netherlands always manages to bring a smile, thanks to her sunny nature and lovely rendition of her country.

The list might go on and on.

Through their eyes, I have traveled a lot. Through their experiences and perspective, I have gained more understanding about human nature.

I believe the more we travel or converse with others, the more we realize that basically we are all the same.

Day 7: My Ex

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 21 Jul 2014 21:44:00 +0000

In order to avoid sounding bitter, I will make it brief.

My ex is an ex for a reason. For many reasons, actually.

Suffice to say that with him in my life, I'd never be a published writer. He did not believe in my writing, and that made me lose my faith (thankfully, not entirely).

Oh my, I still sound bitter. ^_^

Day 6: A Stranger

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 21 Jul 2014 21:36:00 +0000

Let me tell you a story about a stranger I met in Singapore, many, many years ago. About 20 years ago, I think, my family and I visited Singapore. As always, we went to our separate ways. My Papa would want to see electronics and gadgets. My Mama would prefer to go to the supermarkets or food courts. My younger brother would follow Papa or Mama, or he would see some toys. My youngest bro would either follow Papa or Mama, or browse the collection of musical instruments and games. And I, of course, as always was drawn to books and stationery.

We went to our separate ways and chose to meet near a food court. I went to the assigned place on the dot, but nobody was there yet. I bought some roasted chestnuts and sat on a bench, waiting.

Soon, a lady approached me and sat next to me. Maybe she was sixty or seventy, a teenager that I was thought everybody over 30 as ancient (oh, the shallowness of youth!). Maybe she was a worker there, I noticed her sweeping the floor or something. She was probably on her lunch break. She pointed at the roasted chestnuts I was holding, grinning then nodding. I nodded and smiled back. She asked me a question in Chinese, probably Hokkien dialect, I am not sure. I answered back in Mandarin, the standard sentence of "I am sorry, I do not speak Mandarin/Hokkien." She said, "Ah," as if meaning to say, "Too bad", but she just shrugged and smiled.

She then began chatting in her own dialect. I answered in English. I don't think she really understood, but I kept talking in English. And she, in her dialect. I offered her some chestnuts, and she took one. She offered me something from her lunch box, and I ate some. We continued to converse in different languages. At that time, I thought we understood each other. Don't ask me why. It just happened.

When my family came, I told her I had to go, and waved. She waved back with a big, big smile, her wrinkles deepened, her eyes bright. I saw the light danced on her white hair, and I felt a pang of loss.

My parents asked me, "Who was she? What were you talking about? You seemed to have a lively chat with her."

I told the truth, and my parents just shook their heads in disbelief.

I never knew her name. But I learned something from her that day. I learned that a stranger could become a friend, even though only for a short time. I learned that no matter where you go, no matter what happens, you could always find a friendly face.

Day 5: My Dreams

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 21 Jul 2014 19:11:00 +0000

One thing for sure, I have oh-so-many dreams.

Some will never, ever come true. As a fanciful person I have way too many impossible dreams. Some are downright silly, like dreaming one day I'd be able to fly without a gadget to help me. Or being able to teleport wherever I want. Or inventing some kind of device that would enable me to create dishes seemingly out of thin air. (I probably have watched too many Star Trek episodes.)

I have always dreamed of becoming a writer. It started with my love of reading. When I was a child, I read many books from Gramedia Pustaka Utama. "One day, I have to work here. Or publish my books here." Many years later, both wishes came true...

I have other dreams, but I am not too comfortable sharing all of them with the world. I believe that big dreams should be kept deep inside, and shared with selected few. If you blabber all of them to the world, it might seem as if you were bragging or exaggerating. The act would cheapen the dreams.

Sooo... I'll share only two of them here: one, to write and publish a book for children, and two, to write and publish a recipe book.

So mote it be, amen.

Day 4: My Youngest Brother

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sun, 13 Jul 2014 04:55:00 +0000

I have two younger brothers, but I've always been closer to my youngest. I get along fine with my younger brother, but he is the serious type. I am more laid back, I suppose.

My youngest brother and I are as thick as thieves, as you might say. Personality-wise we are more suited, and he and I share the same wicked sense of humor. You might not notice this when you meet him. He has this dead-pan face, and he rarely smiles.

When we go out together, we'll notice something strange and then share a grin. We like to observe and we almost always notice some oddities at the same time. We also love our cats, sometimes too much.

Once, I let my cat gave birth to four healthy kittens in my closet... containing my precious underwear! (Darn that cat, she HAD to give birth among my most expensive bras and panties) I was too busy being a midwife (the firstborn was in breech position) to care. And once my brother let his cat gave birth in his bed. He had to sleep in another bad, a stiff one, but he didn't mind.

I remember this one incident fondly. We were chatting---mind you, it was in the 90s, chatrooms were rare and we used an empty public chatroom---in Indonesian. We lived in different cities then, I moved to Java island for my studies, and my brother was still in Sumatra island. I couldn't really remember what we talked about. Just daily stuff, perhaps. Sharing about our lives and all. And then somebody joined the chat and exclaimed, "Hey, Klingons should be in Trekkie Chatroom!"

That person left before we could say... or to be exact, write anything.

Since then, whenever foreign people ask us what our nationalities are, our first answer would be, "We are Klingons."

Day 3: My Parents

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 09 Jul 2014 16:18:00 +0000

I come from a pair of very musical parents. My parents met during a gig, my mom was playing the bass, my dad was playing violin (in another band). I consider my parents' love story inspiring enough to be written into a novel. This is the fictionalized story of their love: QueryPita. You can buy the book here. (Please, please, buy one or two? The royalties are for my parents, not for me!)

More or less, my parents helped me in shaping me into the woman I am now. Ever since I was a child, they have always listened to me. I grew up believing I could make a difference, my voice would be heard, thanks to them. I learned that changes come from within. And from them, I got this notion that you have to stand up for what you really believe in.

My parents taught me that you and you alone are responsible for your own choices. So choose wisely. But when you make mistakes, do not linger in "what-ifs". We all make mistakes, and we can learn from them.

My mother passed away last year. Even now, thinking of her, makes my eyes watery. Sometimes when I am browsing the collection from a supermarket, or perusing the menu from a restaurant, I remember her. She had this fondness for food and recipes. I learned how to cook from her, the basics, I mean. But we are different. My mother really loved to cook, she loved spending hours in the kitchen to make fabulous meals. I, on the other hand, am not that diligent. I prefer to cook as practical and as fast as possible.

I now realized my parents aren't conventional. And you know what they say, there's a possibility that you might mirror your parents, too, when teaching your kids.

And now my kids are beginning to think that their parents are different. They often see us staying up late (for deadlines, obviously), working, and sleeping till noon. They know how we like to play with words, especially the ones with double meaning. They see us as humans--with mistakes and quirks. And we always try to tell them the truth. No sugar-coating, if need be.

My daughter once told me this, "Your job involves reading books? Awesome!"

Yay for awesomeness!

Day 2: My Crush

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 09 Jul 2014 14:25:00 +0000

I have had this crush for him for as long as I could remember. From 1988, to be exact. (Yes, I am that old, can we move on to another topic, please?) That time, it was my first time watching a police drama called Police Cadet '88. At the same time, I watched him in Heaven Sword & Dragon Sabre, set in olden times.

He has an infectious smile. The kind that will make you want to smile back. And his eyes, there's something about them. His eyes can laugh or cry depending on his moods. (So yeah, he's a great actor.)

I always thought one day I'd fall, deep, for someone who looked just like him.

I met someone like him years ago. He is even more handsome. He wears glasses, and he is incredibly smart, my type. He has a great laugh and a quick wit. And his eyes really sparkle whenever he talks.

But the spark wasn't there. And I ended up marrying his friend.

After all these years, I realize that crushes are just crushes. Sometimes what you want is not really what you need.

Blogging Challenge Day 1: My Best Friend

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 07 Jul 2014 13:19:00 +0000

This is my first entry for 30-Day-Blogging Challenge. I am going to talk about my best friend.

Her name was Nina Higa. We met through the internet in late 1990's. I think we started emailing each other from 1998 or 1999. Something just clicked.

In 2000, or was it 1999 (my memory is a bit hazy these days, remembering dates and year) she went to Indonesia. Not her first visit. She visited Bali when she was a university student and some time later with her husband. But it was her first time in Jakarta and Bandung. From that time, we became good buddies, best friends. Even though we lived so far away from each other, our hearts remained close. She knew oh-so-many things about me. My dark, mercurial moods, my darkest fears, my hopes. She was there when someone I deeply loved betrayed my trust. I was there when she grieved upon losing her baby. We had each other to make us stronger.

She taught me many things. That life should be enjoyed immensely. That we would remain friends, no matter what. She helped me to believe in the power of hope. She made me realize how blessed we all are.

She made me "see" through her eyes. I gained more understanding about Japan and Japanese culture thanks to her. Even now, I still remember her twinkling laugh and bright eyes, while calling me, "Angelachan! Angelachan!" I only allow two people to call me that. Her, and her husband.

She loved Indonesia so much. "It's my second country," she told me. She loved the food. The language. (Yes, she was smart, she learned Indonesian and could speak Indonesian quite well.) She loved the culture, too.

She was beautiful, inside and out. She was always optimistic. "Things would always be better, Angelachan, believe me! Things will be OK!" She liked to tell me that.

And then she was diagnosed with cancer.

She lost the battle on July 31, 2013.

Sorry I cannot write anymore. My eyes are blurry and my chest is hurting from so much pain.

Mengenai Pilihan (Presiden)

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 30 Jun 2014 12:52:00 +0000

Kuakui, aku biasanya menghindar membicarakan politik. Terutama mengenai pilihan di bidang ini, entah partai/presiden. Waktu SMP atau SMA, aku pernah tergelincir dalam perdebatan tiada henti mengenai topik ini. Yang tadinya kusangka teman, berubah menjadi lawan. Yang kupikir sahabat, eh ternyata suka main sikat dan sikut sehingga perasaanku terluka dan perlu dibebat. Sejak itu, kuputuskan lebih baik aku tutup mulut. Apa pun pendapatku mengenai politik, pikirku, lebih baik kusimpan sendiri, daripada gontok-gontokan tidak jelas. Aku lebih suka hidup damai dan tenang daripada sedikit-sedikit mengkhawatirkan celetukan sengit dari orang lain yang tidak setuju denganku.

Di pilihan presiden tahun ini, segalanya berbeda. Aku melihat sendiri, di media massa, di media sosial, banyak orang yang dulu berteman menjadi ribut karena "mendiskusikan" pilihan masing-masing. Di pasar, di terminal, aku dengar sendiri, banyak yang membicarakan calon presiden yang mereka pilih. Beberapa kenalan lamaku pun berkampanye di hadapanku, mempromosikan sosok yang mereka anggap pantas menjadi presiden. Entah dengan cara yang dianggap etis atau tidak, entah dengan fitnah, membongkar borok masa silam, atau menggalang dukungan dari massa. Aku bukan pengamat politik dan lingkungan kualitas wahid, sila tanya pada mereka kalau ingin tahu secara mendetail cara-cara apa saja yang ditempuh kedua pihak untuk mencapai kemenangan.

Kali ini, dalam hati aku sudah tahu siapa yang akan aku pilih. Dengan berlalunya waktu, kampanye yang dicanangkan, pilihanku jatuh kepada nomor dua. Awalnya aku teguh dengan pendirianku, untuk tidak membahas lebih lanjut mengenai politik atau pilihan yang akan aku ambil. Lama-lama, aku yakin aku harus mengemukakan alasan-alasanku.

Mengapa nomor dua? Alasan pertamaku sederhana. Aku tidak suka pada menteri yang suka mengganti berbagai laman dengan "internet positif", kemudian menempatkan iklan di sana. Aku juga tidak suka dengan beberapa pernyataan beliau yang terkesan gegabah. Salah satu contohnya, komentar beliau mengenai AIDS. Belum lagi mengenai internet cepat. Mengingat jabatan yang beliau emban, sungguh tidak pantas seorang menteri bisa kebablasan mengeluarkan pernyataan yang terkesan ngasal (dan ini terjadi berkali-kali). Capres nomor satu menggandeng partai menteri satu itu, sehingga ada kemungkinan kalau capres nomor satu menang, dia tetap memegang jabatan itu. Aku ingin dia diganti, sehingga aku tak ingin memilih nomor satu. Logika sederhana.

Tentu, ada kemungkinan siapa pun penggantinya kelak, lebih parah lagi. Kita takkan tahu. Tapi menurutku lebih baik mengambil risiko muka baru yang memegang jabatan ini, daripada muka lama yang kita semua sudah tahu kinerjanya seperti apa.

Alasan keduaku, karena Bapak Joko Widodo memberiku sesuatu yang tidak bisa diberikan capres nomor satu: harapan akan Indonesia yang lebih baik. Membandingkan slogan "Mari Selamatkan Indonesia"/"Indonesia Bangkit" dengan "Indonesia Hebat", aku jelas akan memilih yang kedua. Katakanlah aku terlalu memperhatikan makna kata, dengan "Indonesia Hebat", itu mengonfirmasi bahwa Indonesia sudahlah hebat. Sementara capres nomor satu ingin menyelamatkan dan membangkitkan Indonesia? Berarti di matanya Indonesia itu...? (isi sendiri)

Sebagai pekerja di industri kreatif, ini alasan utamaku memilih Bapak Jokowi: aku mendambakan masa depan cerah bagi industri ini. Sila gunakan laman Google dan kalian bisa cari tahu sendiri nama-nama besar di bidang kreatif yang mendukung Bapak Jokowi. (Aku tidak akan menyebutkan nama, agar tidak dituduh mencatut nama atau sejenisnya.) Aku percaya kalau beliau jadi presiden, dunia kreatif akan semakin berkembang, dan syukur-syukur masukan serta pendapat kami, pekerja industri kreatif, akan lebih didengar.

Keputusanku sudah bulat. Ini pernyataan, beserta alasan-alasanku. Karena itulah khusus blog post ini, aku tidak mengaktifkan komen. Kalau pilihan kalian--para pembaca--sama denganku, sila dukung Pak Jokowi dengan berbagai cara yang kalian tahu. Kalau kalian berpendapat nomor satu yang lebih layak menjadi presiden, sila bikin blog post sendiri untuk menyatakan pendapat kalian.

Aku pikir, "Mari kita sepakat untuk tidak sepakat" adalah hal yang indah. Dunia ini luas sekali, penghuninya pun banyak. Masa semuanya harus sama? Justru semakin aku bepergian, berinteraksi dengan banyak orang, semakin aku sadar, perbedaan itulah yang membuat dunia menjadi istimewa. Perbedaan membuat kita merenung, oh, ternyata, di dunia ada banyak pendapat. Dan kebenaran bagi kita, bisa jadi berbeda dengan orang lain.

Satu hal lagi, meski calon presiden kita berbeda, kita sama-sama menginginkan Indonesia yang aman, damai, dan tenteram, kan? Hormatilah hak memilih orang lain, dan jangan jadikan politik atau pilpres ini sebagai alasan untuk memutus persahabatan.

#JKW4P

Simple Recipe of the Day: Small Cheese Pound Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 18 Jun 2014 15:17:00 +0000

Sometimes I have this yen for something sweet, but not too sweet. Something savory, but not too savory. You get the idea. I want some light cakes that I can consume with a cup of hot tea. So I made a small one, enough for two (or one greedy gal like yours truly).

You will need
one chicken egg
60 gr flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
a pinch of salt
20 gr sugar
20 ml vegetable oil
50 gr cheddar cheese (diced)
30 ml milk

Just mix all of the ingredients and bake until done. (Insert a toothpick inside, when it comes out clean, then it is done.)

Flower Story #2

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Tue, 10 Jun 2014 16:04:00 +0000

The blue caught my eye. I thought it would be perfect. It would show my sentiments, my feelings, my ego. These, flowers in colors that you would not easily forget. A reflection of my good taste.

I imagine people would stare and whisper, what a wonderful arrangement! The one who sent it must be a great lady! I would pretend not to notice, but secretly gloat. Shame on you for choosing her over me. Now everybody would know how crass she was. I bet she preferred roses and baby breath, typical of her! Red roses for passion. She stole you from me, thanks to that.

You would act like a king, strut here and there like a peacock, thinking you finally found your queen. Wrong. You could not differentiate gold and tin. You chose her, an imitation, because... look! She was so shiny. She had so many ornaments. She was so malleable.

You guys had the gall to invite me to your wedding. And by bringing along these blue orchids, I'd show you how cool I was about this whole thing.

I brushed my fingers on the petals. Velvety. Up close, the orchids enticed me to touch them. Again and again. Something in me bloomed. I did not recognize what it was at first. I kept finding myself looking and touching. Until I realized, it was hope. Hope for myself. Hope for the future.

What would I gain by attending my ex-boyfriend's wedding? I could show them I didn't need him to be happy. What for?

No matter how beautiful and happy I looked, they would always say bad things about me. Look, he jilted her and she had the nerve to come to his wedding, poor girl, trying so hard to look fabulous.

Why should I spend tons for a new gown, shoes, bag, even fancy flowers? Who was I trying to impress? I'd rather stay at home and relax. I knew I was happy. I didn't need to prove it.

But I bought the blue orchids anyway. For they brought me joy and contentment.

10/06/2014, 23.03

Flower Story #1

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sun, 08 Jun 2014 14:44:00 +0000

Everyday, a guy from a faraway land takes pictures for her. Sometimes it's the blue, blue sky, with a hint of white. "If you were here, the sky would be crimson for they would blush seeing a lady like you." Sometimes it's a cup of cappuccino. "I wish we could share this one. It would taste sweeter, I am sure." And sometimes, a book. "Have you read this one? If you haven't, would you please read it too, so I can pretend I am reading with you?"

He takes pictures of flowers, too. Lilies so white that they dazzle underneath the sunshine. Orchids so colorful that they almost hurt your eyes. And when in season, sakura, ranging from pure white to pink. No captions. She supposes that he thinks the pictures are self-explanatory.

Everyday, she wonders what kind of pictures that he is going to send. Everyday, her feelings grow, bigger and bigger.

Her smartphone emits a jazzy tune, denoting an email has arrived. She sits on the bench on the park.Oh, he is sending another picture.

It brings a smile to her face. What are they---roses?---with petals in shades of pink and fuchsia. They look so real. As if she could pluck them anytime.

But hey... they do look familiar. She frowns. She is sure she has seen the flowers before. But where? Realization dawns. Ah! Over... there!

And there, in the entrance of the park, she sees the pink flowers. And the man who has been sending her many pictures. He just stands there, with love and longing in his eyes. His hands are open wide.

What choice does she have but to run straight into his arms?

21.37, June 8, 2014

My (Not So) New Book

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Sun, 01 Jun 2014 17:05:00 +0000

It was first published in 2009. My fifteenth book. The publishing rights have expired, so I submitted it to another publisher. And yay, they agreed to re-publish Dunia Aradia (Aradia's World).

It is about a Queen of All Witches (living in Indonesia) juggling her two worlds--as a queen and as a translator, constantly avoiding her mother's suggestion to marry soon and settle down with a nice young man. Eventually Aradia has to choose and perhaps sacrifice the most important thing that she could offer--her life.

Available in book stores in Indonesia... now!
Dunia Aradia, Grasindo
IDR 45,000
You can buy it through Amazon!

Thai Milk Tea Ice Cream Recipe

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 09 Apr 2014 03:04:00 +0000

I love Thai milk tea! So when I found a recipe for Kem Trà Thái, I was ecstatic. However, after some consideration, I think 120 gr of tea is too much! So I made modifications.

I used 100 grams thai tea (I forgot to write it in the picture).
The result is smooth and silky. Like a kiss from a beloved. My family loves it. I'll definitely make more in the future.

Sakura, Blooming!

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 02 Apr 2014 14:36:00 +0000

My friend sent me this picture. Sakura! They are blooming already in Japan.

There's this weight on my chest, there's this scream that I cannot expel. There's this lump in my throat, threatening to form into a sob. There's this grief that will stay, permanently. Grief might lessen but it's still there.

Last year, my best friend took some pictures of sakura, telling me that year's sakura was the most beautiful. "Because it's my last time seeing sakura," she told me. Her grim words came true, she passed away in July last year.

God bless your soul, 親友.

Fluffy Bread Recipe (Using Tang Zhong, Kneaded by Hand)

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 02 Apr 2014 14:09:00 +0000

I have been making bread for a couple of months now. It's a routine. My kids and partner love bread for breakfast. I am not really a fan of bread, but homemade, fresh from the oven, oh my, they are mouth-watering. I often end up eating three or four before I realize what I am doing and stop myself.

When I was a child and a teen, I often helped my Ma make bread by forming the dough or filling the buns. I thought making bread was a nuisance--so many steps!--and didn't feel like making bread. All the ingredients, measuring, baking. Just buy the bread from the bakery instead! My family seldom eats bread, anyway.

That changed when I was married. My partner loves bread. And my kids, too. They prefer bread for breakfast. One day I thought of baking my own, so at least I know what ingredients that I put there. I found a recipe that I think would work. The result? Not bad! It was nice enough, hooking me to try again and again.

And then someone told me about tang zhong method, and it changed my perspective. Bread with tang zhong is so fluffy and moist. I end up trying several recipes and tweaking them to our liking.

This works for me. Hopefully it will work for you.

What is tang zhong, you might ask? Tang zhong, or water roux, is made from a combination of fluid (usually water or milk) and flour. The best combination is 5:1. Combine them in a pan, stir well until the flour dissolves. In low heat, stir continuously until the mixture thickens. You'll know it's ready when the mixture becomes thick and when you stir, the mixture will form lines. Set aside to cool, cover

For 3 days, this recipe is enough for a family of four (providing you eat the bread for breakfast only).

You will need:
- 400 gr strong flour
- 1/2 sachet of dry yeast (5-6 gr)
- a pinch of salt
- 25 gr powder milk
- 100 gr sugar (for sweet bread. If you prefer a plainer version, 25-50 gr of sugar should suffice)
- 150 ml milk
- 1 egg
- 20 gr butter (in room temperature)
- Egg, 1 tsp honey, 1 tbsp water, stirred well (for coating)

Combine flour, yeast, sugar, powder milk, a pinch of salt. Combine milk and egg to tang zhong, stir well. If clumps appear, don't worry. You'll knead them later. Pour bit by bit to the dry mixture, kneading constantly. After five minutes or so, add butter. If the dough is too sticky, add a bit of flour, be careful not to add too much.

Usually it takes about 10 minutes of kneading. When the dough has become soft and pliable, form into a ball. Cover with moist napkin. Wait until the dough doubles in size. It should take 40 - 60 minutes, but it might take longer in cold weather.

When it has doubled, punch the dough, divide into several portions (according to your liking). Cover with moist napkin again, let rise for 15-30 minutes.

Coat the pan with margarine or butter. Form the dough to your liking. (In my case, regular ball. Take some dough, flatten it, then roll it, or make a ball by combining the edges.) You can fill them with cheese or jam. (Reduce the sugar if you want to fill the bread.) Make some space between dough. Cover with moist napkin and wait until they rise. (40-60 minutes)

Coat the top of the dough.

Put the pan in heated oven (mine is an old one, so I am not too sure of the temperature, perhaps 180-200 Celcius degrees) and bake for about 40-45 minutes. The bread should be ready when the top is golden brown. Remove from the oven immediately.

Let cool on the wire rack. (You might want to munch one or two buns at this point!) Store in airtight container(s). They should last for 3 days (maybe more, but I am not sure because my bread never lasts that long).

Eggplant and Mozzarella Recipe

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Mon, 31 Mar 2014 17:38:00 +0000

I want a simple yet satisfying snack. I had some eggplants and hey, seems lovely if I combine them with mozzarella. I am baking eggplant casserole for breakfast and thought of baking these as well.

You will need:
- an eggplant
- mozzarella (about 25-30 gr would do)
- salt, water
- olive oil
- basil (I used dried variety)

Slice the eggplant according to your liking. Put them in the water with a teaspoon of salt, wait for about 10 minutes. Rinse, pat dry. Slice mozzarella thinly and arrange it on top of eggplant slices. Drizzle with olive oil and basil. Bake for 15 minutes until the cheese melts. This recipe is enough for two, or one, if you're greedy (yes, I am guilty!).

Homemade Kare Raisu (Curry Rice)

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Fri, 21 Mar 2014 13:17:00 +0000

We love kare raisu! However, instant curry roux is very expensive here in Indonesia. So I thought of making kare raisu from scratch. I got the inspiration from a cookbook, and modified it. The kare is not like the one made with instant curry roux, the flavoring is a bit different. A bit sweet, because I use peanut butter. My kids prefer this one than using instant curry roux.

Ingredients:
- 8 gr curry powder (more or less. You can add more if you like. I used curry powder in a sachet.)
- 40 gr tomato ketchup (I used four sachets @ 10 gr)
- 1 tsp Chili powder (add more if you like spicy kare)
- 4 tbsp of oil
- 250 gr meat of your choice (I used beef and chicken, equally delicious), cubed
- 2 medium potatoes, peeled, cubed
- 1 onion, finely chopped
- 1-2 carrots, peeled and chopped (or vegetables of your choice. Sometimes I add sour apples like Granny Smith, string bean, etc.)
- 150 ml coconut milk (or regular full cream milk. I used both, I think both are fine. Coconut milk has more flavor, I think.)
- 400-500 ml broth (I used homemade vegetable broth. You can add broth powder to the water, if you like)
- 4 tbsp maizena, diluted with approx. 100 ml water
- 2-3 tbsp peanut butter
- Salt, sugar, to taste. Add grated ginger if you like (1 tsp would be fine.)

Mix curry powder + tomato ketchup + + chili powder + 1 tbsp of oil with meat. Marinade for a while. (15 minutes would be fine.)

Saute vegetable and onion and potato in 3 tbsp of oil for about five minutes.

Add meat to the pan. Stir for a minute or two.

Add broth. Mix well. After 3-5 minutes, add coconut milk/milk. Stir well.

Add peanut butter. Stir well.

Taste. Add salt, sugar, grated ginger according to your preference.

Simmer for 15 minutes. Add maizena+water mixture and stir until the kare thickens.

That's it! Enjoy it warm with rice.

Itadakimasu~!

Easy-Peasy Frittata

noreply@blogger.com (Primadonna Angela) — Wed, 19 Mar 2014 02:54:00 +0000

Many times, I have no idea what to cook. So I browse some recipes from the net or from my cook books, pondering, thinking, choosing. And sometimes I just open my fridge and pantry, and choose to cook on the spot.

I didn't have time to make bread yesterday and that meant, no breakfast! So I took out some veggies from the fridge and made something. I wanted to make frittata, but I wanted more "body", so I improvised.

Vegetable Frittatta

For six muffin tins, you will need:
- 2 eggs, combined with 100 ml water, 1 tbsp cream soup powder, 3 tbsp flour
- 1 onion, sliced diagonally
- Grated mozzarella
- Slices of vegetable of your choice (I used approx. half a cup of carrot and bean)
(If you do not have cream soup powder, add salt, sugar, pepper to taste)

Line the tin with margarine/butter. (I used silicon mold, so I don't need to do this) Put a slice of the onion on the bottom of the tin. Add the vegetable. Pour the combination of egg+water+cream soup powder+flour. Top with grated mozzarella. Bake for 30 minutes. Let them cool before taking the frittatas from the mold. Enjoy it with chili sauce, mayo, or eat as is!