Fishy capers

We don't eat as much fish as we should, so last night a piece of barramundi seemed in order. Eschewing the frying option, I went for steaming it on a bed of vegetables, accompanied with noodles.

Ingredients

• 500g barramundi or firm fish of your choice
  
• 2 largish carrots, shaved, grated or finely chopped
  
• 2 sticks celery, chopped
• 1 large onion, chopped any way you please
  
• good handful of shredded cabbage
  
• 3 cloves garlic, crushe
• sweet soy sauce (about a tablespoon)
  
• malt vinegar (ditto)
  
• oil for frying
• small amount of water or stock
• instant noodles or rice
  

Method

• fry onion in a large pan 'till soft
• add garlic and fry another 2-3 mins
• add carrot and celery, plus water/stock (I used 1/2 a stock cube)
• lay fish on top of vegies, add salt & pepper to taste, cover pan and simmer for 10-15 mins, or until fish is just cooked
• stir in soy sauce, adding more water if necessary
• cover fish & vegies with cabbage, and steam for another few minutes, until cabbage is soft
• start cooking noodles while cabbage is steaming (or if using rice, start cooking rice 5 minutes ago...)
• when noodles are done, the rest should be ready

This works well using a dry white wine instead of water/stock; with a curried preserve instead of soy sauce; with zucchini, shallots/green/spring onions, fresh asparagus, etc.

Was looking forward to leftovers for lunch, but No. 1 Son decided he'd have some after all - and declared it to be very good - success!

Click #2

A moment seized; a fleeting glimpse. Click.
Contemplation. Possibilities; subtle details, obscure even. Click.
Clearer now, focus sharper. New perspective; comes to life. Click.
Different light, shadows new. Chiaroscuro changes mood. Click.
Quiet thrill; a frisson. Tones, texture; composition gels. Click.
Now from here, lower. Detail isolated, highlighted. Click.
Turn a ring; focus narrows, draws the eye. Click.
Close in, tighter frame. Rule of thirds? Break it. Click.
Nailed it.

...

Click

Brass, turning. Click.
Gut drawn tight. Click.
Rhythm punctuates silence. Click.
Drum moves relentlessly. Click.
Tooth meshed with tooth. Click.
Cast iron drops. Click.
Glint of sun on silver. Click.
Shadow sweeps downward. Click.
Motes settle on oak. Click.
Governor spins. Whirr.
Bell rings out. Ding.
And thrice more. Click.
What time is it, Grandad? Click.
Steady beat of time. Click.

...

A serene cacophony

Behind me, a fridge door repeatedly opens and closes, punctuating the clink of crockery and utensils. Quiet chatter and bustle.The urgent sound of milk being forced into action for a capuccino. And again. In the background (it's all background), the chatter and gossip of birdlife, the interlocutors hidden among shadowed paperbarks. They conspire occasionally to drown out the culinary commotion, then retreat into quiescence.

Midmorning traffic, intermittently trying to lay a post-industrial veneer over the placid scene, but not being entirely successful. The lagoon in front of me is receiving attention from a young man; he is corralling weeds on the surface with floats and net. Steadily, with unhurried pace, he skims the weed-strewn surface, until the unwanted flora is contained in a small enclosure one one bank. Carefully, intently, he draws it in to leave a clear surface once more. Finishes the task with rake and barrow.

A midmorning Virgin, headed south, momentarily disturbs the peace. It passes quickly, leaving its avian role models in charge once again.


The water surface, calm just moments ago, is now a frenzy of interwoven ripples, as myriad insects go about their routine. Busily, they skim and skate in an invisible free-form choreography betrayed only by the undulating boundary between open air and aquatic obscurity. The human chatter has now built to a modest hubbub, as the tables, once empty and quiet, fill with twos and threes seeking a morning break. Two toddlers, restless; mum stands watch - her attention divided between dancing insects and her diminutive dynamos - cajoling, controlling. The arrival of carrot cake and coffee seems to calm the little ones. Baby chocaccinos work their magic, and mum can relax. For now.

RIP Kodachrome

A couple of days ago, on the northern summer solstice, Kodak announced the end of an era. Kodak: the very name is synonymous with photography, and Kodachrome is a substantial part of the name. Used by professional and amateur photographers the world over, and valued for its many qualities, including colour accuracy, sharpness and archival permanence; immortalized (if it could be any more than it was) in song by Paul Simon, the film that was manufactured for 74 of the 121 years that Kodak has been in business, is history.

Kodachrome was a unique film, requiring a long and complex development process that but a few labs could provide. I knew it only casually, shooting relatively little transparency material, but there was a special thrill in receiving the little yellow boxes in the post, full of card-mounted (as they were then) slides. Now, the advance of emulsion technology, not to mention digital imaging and sheer cold commercial necessity, has brought an end to this venerable icon, as the production lines cease to roll. It's not the first, and certainly not the last, photographic material to reach its use-by date, but it's arguably one of the most poignant. Kodachrome, Cibachrome, Dufaycolour ... when will we see their like again...

Many are wondering whether digital images will be as enduring as those made on this fine material. Only time will tell, but I wouldn't be placing any bets about digital longevity.

More kitchen capers

With SWMBO intent on combining leeks and potatoes in the time-honoured soupy fashion, I thought the least I could do would be to make a damper to accompany it. I have a few standard recipes that I am comfortable with (although arguably, increasingly unfamiliar...), and this is one such. It caught my eye in that great British entertainment organ, the Radio Times, many years ago, and it has provided sterling service since then.

I confess to being a member of the KISS school of culinary arts: one pan, if possible; as little mess and fiddling as possible; flexible in the cooking process (ie, 10-15 minutes either way is OK).

I've never made bread as such, because it involves tedious things like kneading and proving, and that just puts me off. Call me lazy if you will. Call me Henrietta if you must (but I'll take no notice). Damper, however, is another matter, and suits my style very well. This one has a twist or two, in that it includes potatoes, cheese, and one or two other items of vegetable matter. Here's the lowdown:

Ingredients

• 6 oz (175g) SR flour
  
• 6 oz (175g) grated potato
  
• 6 oz (175g) cheese
  
• [doesn't really matter exactly how much - just make the quantities roughly equal (but perhaps less cheese¹)]
• 2-3 shallots (spring/green onions)
• pinch of thyme
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1-2 tblsps water
• sprinkle of cayenne (optional)
  

Method

• Plonk flour in large bowl (sieve it, if it gives you satisfaction)
• Mix thyme and salt into flour
• Grate potatoes and add to flour; stir well to break up clumps of potato
  
• Mix chopped onions into flour & potato
• Add cheese², cut into lumps, and mix in well (easiest to use hands at this stage)

1. I find this too much cheese, and usually use half this much
   
2. the original recipe said mix in half the cheese, then press the other half on the outside of the bread before cooking, but that's just unnecessary mucking about, if you ask me; decide for yourself.

By now, you will have a pretty dry, loose mix, but there should be just enough moisture in the grated potato to soak up all the flour. At this point, add the extra water, just enough to keep the dough together.

Finally, place on greaseproof paper on a tray, and bake in a moderate oven (about 180^oC) for about 45 minutes.

I generally make a double mixture and split into 2 portions, because one just isn't enough!

..........................

The original recipe called for goat's cheese (or more precisely, goats milk cheese), and as I try to avoid bovine milk products, this suits me fine. Today, I'm using a sheep feta for the first time, so wait the outcome with eager anticipation.


[Later... verdict: it's quite delicious, as was the soup.]

A bit hazy

I've seen the term bokeh bandied about for some time now, but only just recently came to understand what it's about. Whether that's a statement about me, or about the folk who wrote descriptions that I couldn't follow, I don't know. Whatever the case, it still has me a bit bemused - at least regarding the degree of fascination it holds in other photographers. Having spent many years away from serious photography, this term seems to be quite prevalent, even among relative 'happy-snappers'.

For those who aren't aware, it's a term descriptive of the appearance of out-of-focus detail in a photograph, and is derived from the Japanese for 'blur' or 'haze'. Is it smooth and 'creamy', or rough and unappealing... or something. When I went to look through my own image collection to see how my bokeh compared, it appeared that I had no images that showed bokeh - and then I remembered one that would:


I'm somewhat surprised that I don't have other examples to hand, as the ability to use wide apertures and selective focusing is one of those little tricks that I value (and which is sadly lacking in a wee digital point-and-shoot).

Judging by the comments I've seen elsewhere (such as in the Manual Focus Forum), my bokeh isn't especially good. However, I shan't be losing much sleep over it; nor shall I be going on a quest to find a set of lenses that does produce good bokeh - yet. Who knows what may happen in the future?

Beautiful woodwork, tiny little hole

I have been known to mess around with homemade or modified cameras, all in the name of satisfying an urge to indulge in pinhole photography. There is a certain pleasure to be had in building or rehashing something which then draws light through a hole that may be as small as 0.15 mm - and then capturing that light on good old silver halides; kind of thumbing my nose at modern technology.

I've lately been dusting off a mailing tube camera that I made about 12 years ago. As I lack a darkroom, it's been dormant almost since it was born, but I've been making do and occupying the bathroom to produce wet bits of 5x7 paper with ghostly images on them. Yes, the pinhole muse seems to be back, in fine form.

Using different materials than I used to, I've so far just been establishing the right exposure and processing parameters, but I'm getting there. At the weekend, I recorded myself eating lunch on the back verandah. Not a classic photograph, but it's a step on the way.



It looks like I'm sitting by a rounded corner, but this is an artefact of the curved film-plane and the position of the pinhole. One of the reasons I like pinhole is that it gives you the ability to create images that can't be made with a conventional camera with a flat focal plane. Coming later will be a different curved-plane camera, one with less disturbing image geometry.

Such geometry can be found in images produced by the Pinoramic 120.


This is a panoramic camera handcrafted - with other similar models - by Kurt Mottweiler. They combine the delightful wacky world of analogue pinhole photography with woodworking and design skills of the highest order. When I have bolstered the bank account back up to a healthy level, I shall acquire one - either that, or chew off one of my hands with insane frustration...

Old words

I've been having fun playing with the new toy again, and decided to go back into history for some inspiration. Arbroath is an unassuming little Scottish town, famous for its smoked haddock (the Arbroath Smokie, of course). Its greatest claim to fame though, is its association with one of the best-known documents in history: the Declaration of Arbroath. A bold statement, firmly nailing Scotland's colours to the mast, as it were, it sets out a compelling case for the Pope to deny Edward I's claim to the Scottish throne. There is but one original in existence, decorated with the seals of Scottish nobility. Now, however, you can own a modern interpretation of this most stirring document. It's history Jim, but not as we know it...

A Wordle in your shell-like

Today I voted for Redbubble in the Webby awards (go to Websites and then Community - RB will love you for it). While I was there, I noticed the Wordle reference, so went over to investigate. I'll say no more, except that I have had fun feeding in words, phrases, etc. Here's how this blog looks, when Wordled:


The possibilities are endless.