JCG

Thou shalt climb Mt Sinai

JCG — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 15:15:41 +0000

Near the top of Mt Sinai. © Julia Gaw 2012

The idea of leaving the comfort of our resort to drive two hours and then hike for three was not terribly appealing, especially in the middle of the night. But it was one of those moments in which no one wants to look like a wimp and so accepts the challenge regardless. Or maybe some people actually do like the idea of hiking to the peak of a 7,497 ft mountain by torch-light? In any case, we all signed up for the Mt Sinai climb to see the sunrise in the middle of the Egyptian desert at the place in which Moses apparently received the ten commandments.

It was 1am when we were met by charming Bedouin guide, Salem, at the base of the walk and began up the camel path (on which camels were offered in case one had a sudden moment or weakness or regret). Salem knew the pebbly track so well he could forge on ahead in darkness while we scrabbled behind with torches, and inappropriate footwear. I must admit, the darkness seemed to make it easier. There were no opportunities to stop and groan at the sight of the incline ahead of us, or lack of progress made behind. We just kept going until Salem told us to rest. And when we got to the top (completely out of breath after the final 700 steps but otherwise in high spirits) he told us that we were a couple of hours early for the sunrise.

A bedouin hut with blankets, chocolate bars (I had just climbed Mt Sinai, I could justify two chocolate bars) and sweet Bedouin tea became our refuge from the increasing winds and decreasing air temperature. It was a shock from the 20-degree sunshine we were basking in only hours ago. This was the desert, and it was cold. I cannot stress it enough. Thermals, gloves and a beanie were not excessive; they were necessary.

After a frozen hour and a half of shivery sleep on the floor of the hut, we wrapped ourselves in blankets, heavy and cumbersome, and left the shelter to make the last few steps to the top to see the sun peek its round cap over the horizon. The vista that we had not yet been privy to was a hazy, dull brown mountain range slowly turning golden. The warmth from the first rays thawed our noses (the only part of our bodies exposed and unprotected) and we could finally relax and enjoy the view.

The sun rises. © Julia Gaw 2012

The spot has an important religious history and I am sure it is the place for many yearly pilgrimages. But an atheist like me can find it spiritual in a non-religious way. For me, it was not about the path Moses had apparently taken, or what he had found once he arrived. The place was beautiful, and the landscape – rocky, isolated, vast… all shades of brown and stone bathed in a golden light from the rising sun – was intensely impressive. The faint carvings of a cross in the rock, the huts with colourful rugs and wall hangings flapping in the intense wind, the ancient openings formed in the mountain offering shelter from the elements. There was a sense of history. Of place. Of spirituality.

I am thankful we took the trip in a time when tourism was low so we could enjoy the space in peace and without 2,000 fellow tourists. I think, had we been fighting crowds to get up and down the steps and into the small viewing areas, or having to queue for the wooden toilet box perched on a cliff, something of the experience would have been lost. For that I will take the freezing temperatures and howling winds. It was worth it for the feeling of isolation, peace and having the moment basically to ourselves.

Atop Mt Sinai. © Julia Gaw 2012

lemon yoghurt cake

JCG — Sat, 04 Feb 2012 16:10:07 +0000

I first made this – my version of Moro’s yoghurt cake – a couple of years ago, for a Sunday barbecue at home with friends. Now, when I taste the fresh tang of the lemon with the wobbly yoghurt custard set only by some eggs and ground almonds, I think back to that day in the sunshine, with great company, good food and a delicious fresh and tangy pudding.

The original recipe and presentation, by Sam and Sam Clark, those wonderful Moro chefs, is distinctly Lebanese, with pistachios and pomegranate seeds sprinkled on top. While I find this idea glorious, for that sunny day in the backyard, and again today in reminiscence, I preferred a large lemon punch with fresh blueberries in my take on a wonderful Middle Eastern dessert.

INGREDIENTS

3 large free-range eggs, separated

90g caster sugar

1 vanilla pod, split lengthways, seeds scraped out

300g natural yoghurt

Finely grated zest and juice of 1 large lemon (or 1.5 small lemons)

3/4 cup (about 75g) ground almonds

METHOD

Pre-heat the oven to 180ºC, and place a dish half-filled with water on the middle shelf to heat up.
In a bowl, beat the egg yolks with half of the sugar until thick and pale. Mix the vanilla seeds into the mixture, then add the yoghurt, lemon zest and juice and the ground almonds. Mix well.

In a separate bowl, whisk the egg whites with the remaining sugar until soft peaks form. Gently and evenly, fold the whites into the yoghurt mixture. Pour the mixture into a 25cm cake tin or baking dish with a solid bottom, lined with baking paper.

Place the tin in the water, making sure the water comes halfway up the tin, and cook for about 40 minutes, until the top is lightly browned.

Serve the yoghurt cake warm, or set aside to cool first, before sprinkling with icing sugar and blueberries, or other decoration of your choice.

Confessions of an e-shopaholic

JCG — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 15:28:59 +0000

Maybe I have a void that needs filling, maybe I just need to consume, maybe I have money to burn, or maybe I simply spend far too much time online – I certainly spend far too much money there.

I don’t know when it happened, at which point I was considered lost to the dark side, but there’s no going back. The thought of actually needing to walk into a shop, deal with live shop assistants, part with real money (not just visa debit numbers) and then carry my purchase home, fills me with dread. if a store doesn’t offer online facilities, I don’t shop there.

Now that I have built up a network of trusted sites, I buy everything online. I’m not exaggerating – everything. My christmas shopping was signed and sealed (not delivered) in one afternoon: travel books for a friend in Australia from The Book Depository (with free international shipping), a watch and long-sleeved tee for my boyfriend from Asos, a windowsill herb garden for my BFF from Plantabox, cookbooks for dad from Amazon, a digital photo frame for mum from Currys online, and something (OK, a few things) for myself from Anthropologie; plus personalised christmas cards from PhotoBox. Even a set of jars and gingham labels were purchased for my homemade onion chutney that – unlike my e-purchases – is yet to materialise. It’s the first time i’ve had Christmas shopping wrapped up (pun intended) before the first of December.

My fingers seem to accomplish many necessary (?) purchases, without much of a conscious thought. People worry about not having felt/seen/tried the item first, but these days virtual stores make it so easy to return items that no one should be deterred.

People may judge this as a lazy habit, but I don’t subscribe to the theory; I claim it has more to do with browsing at my leisure and without pressure to buy, to get to the shops within opening hours and to find everything I need in the space in which I have chosen to shop. Having said all that, I have recently begun considering my online habits as some kind of addiction that’s crept up on me like a pickpocket with his hand in my purse. And it’s certainly not helping my savings plan. Now at the start of a new year with a fresh start, I might need help… where shall I look to find it? Surely the internet will have some advice.

Sites of addiction:

and many many more.

Anzac biscuits for Australia Day

JCG — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 23:00:13 +0000

I baked these Anzac biscuits to bring a hint of Australia Day into my London workplace. Australia Day holds a strange identity. Many Aussies around the globe are seen to puff out their chest at belonging to the ‘lucky country’. But the history of this day holds a different sentiment – white man arriving to colonise what already belonged to the Aboriginal people.

Many Australians are embarrassed and sorry for what happened to so many Aboriginal communities, and therefore don’t feel they can celebrate Australia Day with open minds and hearts. It’s a sad conclusion, because every nation deserves the opportunity to accept its past and celebrate life as its current people know it. We can’t be forever ashamed of our heritage when we took no personal part in it. We need to acknowledge it, educate ourselves and our children about it, and then get on with things. After all, of the millions of Australians drinking beer at barbecues or eating lamingtons and Vegemite sandwiches in the sun, how many are actually raising a glass to white settlement? They are, instead, celebrating the fabulous country they are lucky enough to inhabit. They are celebrating what’s good about being Australian – the lifestyle, the sunshine, the landscape, having a drink with your mates.

So, when I donned green and gold at work this Australia Day, and baked Anzac biscuits for my British colleagues, I was celebrating my memories of home and all my friends and family who were having fun together, listening to the Triple J Hottest 100, playing cricket in the park and wrapping a tomato sauce-doused sausage in fluffy white bread.

These deliciously sweet and chewy Anzac biscuits – that were sent to Australian and New Zealand soldiers for energy during the war – are a nice reminder of home, and an appropriate treat for the day.

Ingredients – makes approx. 40 small biscuits

¾ cup flour

1 cup rolled oats

¾ cup desiccated coconut

¾ cup brown sugar

130g butter

2 tbsp golden syrup

1tsp bicarbonate soda

Method

Pre-heat your oven to 160°C.

Combine the flour, oats, coconut and brown sugar in a mixing bowl.

Place the butter and golden syrup in a small saucepan over low heat with two tablespoons of water. When melted, add the bicarbonate soda and stir to combine.

Pour the warm, wet mixture into the bowl of dry ingredients and mix until combined.

Roll the mixture into small balls (approximately 3cm in diameter) and place on a lined baking sheet. Flatten slightly with a fork, and place in the oven.

Bake for 12 minutes, or until golden in colour.

New York State of Mind

JCG — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 14:00:29 +0000

There is so much already written and published about New York, it’s hard to feel like one has anything new to say. But, being such a diverse place, it creates as many different travel experiences as it has coffee shops or hot dog stands. After a recent trip, this writer felt compelled to have her say.

It’s hard to sum up New York without resorting to clichés.It really is a city in which anything can happen, where (some people’s) dreams are made… and I even found myself proclaiming from the Staten Island ferry, ‘It really is a concrete jungle’. One can be forgiven for thinking NYC consists of just a few easy blocks: Upper East Side, Upper West Side, Lower East and Lower West, with Central Park sitting daintily in the middle. In reality, the city is immense (but not sprawling), and Central Park is hardly dainty. Every pocket of Manhattan, and then some across the Brooklyn Bridge, has something worth seeing, as well as its own distinct vibe.

To give yourself a chance at seeing the best New York has to offer, you must have your walking shoes on and be prepared to wear them out. The subway may take you directly to the destination (and becomes a saviour when blisters rule), but what you’ve missed en route can be the magic for which we’re all searching. From down in the grungy Lower East Side where Little Italy has been overrun by Chinatown, you can wander slightly north and end up in the East Village – still edgy, but with more of a neighbourhood vibe. Clinton St Baking Company is the place to go for breakfast, but be sure to get there at 9am when they open or be prepared to wait an hour for a table. For lunch, drinks or dinner, head to St Mark’s Place. The two blocks between 2nd Ave and Ave A offer a peaceful, tree-lined stroll on which you’ll find a great little bar (Ten Degrees), a café with a lovely outdoor eating area (Café Orlin) and a popular hot dog joint (Criff Dogs) for a late night snack. If you are still raring to go after a ’dog and foil basket of waffle fries, just pop through the phone booth in Criff, lift the receiver and ask for a spot within fabulous hidden bar, PDT, or Please Don’t Tell – sorry, I’m telling! Good shopping in this area can be found when you start heading north-west, into the Prince/Spring/Mott Streets sideways H formation before hitting Broadway.

For a new day, and a new vibe, head west. Greenwich, Meatpacking District and West Village are contained in a very walkable cluster and provide myriad of options to eat and drink. West Village is great for shopping (while pretending you’re Carrie Bradshaw – the whole area is very SATC ) and dining at Buddakan (75, 9th Ave) is a must when in the area. Book ahead or risk disappointment.

To get off your burning feet for a while, one subway journey I recommend is the L line from the top of the East Village to Williamsburg, Brooklyn. A real neighbourhood with space to breathe, it’s very enjoyable – and the hipsters agree. A game at Gutter Bar – a traditional bowling alley (untouched since the ’70s – no disco lights or DJs here), followed by sunset on Berry Park’s rooftop (treat yourself to the Huckleberry lemonade, sipped from jam jars) is a fine way to spend some time.

From the guy drawing smiley faces in chalk around Union Square’s perimeter, to the tipsy (drunk) artist on crutches who greeted us at our East Village guesthouse and the couple gettin’ jiggy in the community garden out back, New York is, if nothing else, full of surprises.

A few clues…
For a bit of nature:
Walk The High Line (above 10th Ave), an urban park and path built on an old railway line, with views down the mid-town roads.

For a caffeine hit:
Café Grumpy (224, West 20th St) serves great coffee, but little else. As does Stumptown Coffee Roasters in the Ace Hotel (20, West 29th St).

For breakfast:
Pastis (9, 9th Ave) is much-lauded, but I’ll keep returning to Clinton St Baking Company (4 Clinton St) in the East Village.

For a $10 sandwich that’ll feed three:
Katz’s Deli (205, East Houston St) is on every list. Request your sandwich packaged separately for assembly later to receive enough wrapped gherkins, meat (pastrami is the popular choice) and mustard to share.

For some New York hospitality:
East Village Bed and Coffee isn’t luxurious – shared bathroom, resident dog, lively host – but it’s homely, cheap, superbly located and a real introduction to the city.

JCG — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 15:19:32 +0000

Julia Gaw interviews Australian band, The Waifs

me, for hire

JCG — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 12:07:45 +0000

It started with a story of Paris. Sat on reception, I yearned to share desks with the writers, editors and designers in the office. Curious to know whether I have what it takes to be a writer, Geoff Slattery – CEO of Australian publishing company The Slattery Media Group – challenged me to write 600 words on the magic of Paris by the following morning. I had fallen in love with the French capital that summer – 2006 – so considered the challenge a straightforward one. After a night of writing, scribbling, typing, proof-reading and checking the acute accents on French words such as métro, Sacré-Coeur and gâteau à la crème, I sent my piece to Slattery and sat anxiously at my desk clicking the send/receive button like I was having the biggest sugar rush of my life. It was a rush, but no sugar was involved.

The exhilaration I felt writing the piece and the satisfaction that came over me once it was finished to a standard of which I was proud, confirmed that this was the right direction for me. Those are the feelings one should experience in his/her career. Don’t we all strive to find a vocation that incites fear, excitement, pride and a sense of achievement? It keeps us engaged, interested and constantly developing.

I passed Slattery’s test and immediately joined the company’s editorial team, writing and editing stories for a range of publications such as the official programme of Australian Rules (the country’s favourite football code), a children’s magazine and Australia’s highest circulating music magazine. My eagerness to learn was immense and the improvement in my writing and sub-editing skills clearly visible.

What followed this position was a two-year stint as MAG’s deputy editor, a role that involved interviewing bands and writing feature stories, planning and writing the magazine’s newly introduced travel and fashion pages, editing contributors’ reviews, sub-editing the entire magazine, and sifting through the pile of CDs that cluttered our desks for the musical gems deserving of a feature.

Emerging from that job I had learned the intricacies of planning and creating a magazine; knew who The Triffids, The Black Seeds, Beirut and The XX were; had discovered my level of attention for perfecting grammar, punctuation, caption alignment and image relevance in a 120-page magazine; and found that I could actually present to camera effectively (while making a fair bloopers reel along the way).

I knew then that I loved to write, but that I had also become an accomplished editor and would be happy reading and editing other people’s words for the rest of my life. Taking a great article and making it even better – in terms of readability, comprehension, economy of words and accuracy – is a fabulous feeling. And finding a rogue comma, inappropriate apostrophe or double space moments before a page leaves for the printer, is just reward for reading that page four, five, six times over.

This is a career that offers rewards only those with a similar interest in publishing could ever understand. And if someone outside the publishing industry were to read the previous paragraph, I’m sure they’d think I needed more in my life.

Well, maybe, but you only need to check my bank statements to see what more looks like, and what it costs. My hunger to learn new skills and find a creative outlet has sent me headfirst into a fashion design correspondence course, textile screenprinting short course, photography and Photoshop lessons and cooking classes. All of which – although they might cause injury to my purse, I believe add further to my flexibility in a creative environment and suggest a well-rounded set of interests and skills.

Five years after I joined The Slattery Media Group, I walked away having written countless feature articles, interview pieces and reviews; introduced successful fashion and travel sections into a previously entirely music-based magazine; developed and edited a technology supplement; commissioned book authors; project-managed custom publications such as a food magazine for Melbourne’s food market; as well as having edited two books – the first a guidebook to Melbourne’s finest artisans and the second a compilation of recipes and stories from the world’s food bloggers.

My experience was so full and varied and I had been encouraged/challenged/inspired to try and become the best writer and editor I could be; so now I seek the next opportunity to further my development.

Freelance writing and editing has kept me sane for the past year, but I crave the day-to-day interaction with words, grammar debates and even that challenging trouble child, the apostrophe. I want to be surrounded by a team of people who appreciate the publishing process, who happily involve themselves in a discussion about the difference between among and amongst, and whose eyes light up when they see the printed product of their hard work land on their desks.

I am the right choice for your company. I will work hard and apply all I have gained in my six years’ publishing experience to my job. I will even bake for you.

If you have a role in your editorial team that needs filling, I can fill it.