Jessica Benseman Makes a Pav

Ladies and Gentleman, boys and girls may I have your attention please?..attention please. Hm! Hm!

Thank you.

Step right up, step right up, come closer  as you wont believe your eyes. Within this post lies something you've never experienced.....never seen before, heard of before, felt before.  Something of ultimate relevance  something newsworthy, something wildly entertaining. Today is a grand day, yes, Today is an exciting day...of discovery, grandeur, and prestige. Today, my friends, Today...you have the honor, nay,  the privilege to see something legendary. Creation at it's finest, the miraculous simplicity of a great tradition, the epic ingenuity of the Kiwi woman in it's purest form.

Ladies and Genteman, today, Jessica Bensemann, South Islander and office-mate extraordinaire will attempt what only the bravest of ladies would dare to...... a Pavlova!

Yes! The great Pav! So grand it was created to impress the most impressive, the principal artist of the Imperial Russian Ballet herself, Miss Anna Pavlova! With it's simple elegance, you may think it is just a dessert! But things aren't always what they seem. Behind the shimmer and the lights there is a mystery, there is debate as to the origin of this cream covered meringue as vast and wide-spreading as the Tasman sea itself! It is no simple feat, it is precise, it is science and tradition...there are delicate secrets passed down from generation to generation that you and I are not aware of....until now.

But I should warn you, certainly you should be aware, well, I should say that this is not just a dessert for the every day eating. No, kind mams and sirs, this is no feat for the weak or faint of heart. This is...the pavlova.

Enjoy!

A Good (Turkish) Wife

As a girl newly of marriageable age, I have become increasingly aware of my domestic shortcomings.

I am at peace with the fact that I will never make a bed as geometrically as my grandma or pack a lunch with love notes as sweet as my mama's but, somewhat instinctively, I have began filling my very own semi-metaphorical "glory box" with little tricks, cute "isms" and the occasional silver platter. Now, I know that a precise combination of diluted vinegar and ammonia is not the makings of a good wife but if not that, then what?

"Foam," said Hilal. "The more foam the better.".


I looked at the tiny cup of Turkish coffee I had so proudly prepared to thank her for an afternoon of Turkish cooking...no foam, not even a bubble. Yes, I had successfully made shit Turkish coffee for the daughter of the ambassador of Turkey to The Netherlands. Ignoring my epic fail, she very sweetly enjoyed every sip while explaining that "back home" when a man came-a-suitin' he would most certainly ask his suitee to make him a cup of coffee. Any Turkish girl "worth marrying" would return with a tiny cup of sugary jet-fuel topped with light brown froth. My bubble-less shot of murk however, would leave me what the Turkish refer to as, "stuck at home".


I sincerely believe that the first ingredient in some recipes simply the cook's country of origin. My Albanian roommate from university, Blerta, would stumble down the stairs first thing in the morning and before she could even speak fluent English for the day, she would hurry slowly to make a perfect demitasse of goodness.

TURKISH COFFEE  by: Blerta Mileti

Ingredients:
Ground, Roasted TURKISH COFFEE
WATER
SUGAR


Method:
Place xhezve on medium heat and add a demitasse full of water
Add a teaspoon full of sugar and mix
When the water begins to bubble, add a teaspoon full of coffee and mix
When the mixture begins to foam, pour top half into demitasse (small teacup)
Boil second portion and pour to top up the demitasse
Finally, Enjoy! (Best Enjoyed with good company and good conversation)



Drink the whole cup and both you and your tummy will be sorry- leave the sludge of grounds at the bottom, turn your cup upside down and leave it. Don't peek.

The next time you are in your kitchen and feeling introspective, flip it over and take a good look. Many cultures of Eastern Europe and the Middle East believe that these dribbles hold the secrets of your future and if you contemplate intently, with a little creative interpretation, you see where they're coming from.

My little foamless cups of fortune have been adorned with fat zebras, little men climbing mountains and an old woman drinking a cup of tea. Albeit bubble-less, I'd like to think that perhaps these symbols of integrity, pleasure, high ambition and adventure bode well for the future of a young bachelorette and that perhaps, for some strikingly-handsome-prince-charming-of-a-man, they are the makings of a good (Turkish) wife.