tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38088702024-03-13T16:25:42.862+00:00Hypatia AvenueLondon-based British-born Chinese female, enjoys arts and culture joy riding, hitch hiking on the web and jumping on and off bandwagons.Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.comBlogger382125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-41433836200850271992012-04-14T20:12:00.017+00:002012-04-16T12:00:40.712+00:00Toss CheeseI have a new cookbook in my collection. It advocates that we sane and healthy people Make a Meal of Cheese. According to the book, however, only hard British cheeses can be used to make a meal, and despite a chirpy guide to regional hard cheeses (Wensleydale, Cheshire etc), all the recipes use only four to 8 ounces of grated or cubed cheddar. That's all the recipes. ALL of them. Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-9568609096702845652012-04-02T08:22:00.013+00:002012-04-14T19:46:34.636+00:00Grief Cake for Bleak KidsParents of young Goths always struggle to find appropriate birthday cakes for their kids. It's an annual dilemma: you want to celebrate the passing of another year and the onset of maturity in your offspring. As responsible and loving parents, it would be nice to mark the passing of childhood, to look proudly into the eyes of the little tot you taught to walk, talk and Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-15062096445829747392012-03-12T18:01:00.022+00:002012-03-12T19:31:46.875+00:00Gateaux Mayo MarveilleuxI am a woman and therefore I am always craving chocolate, cake, biscuits and sweets. I am in a permanent state of resistance, nobly denying myself such things; I preface every nibble of confectionary with an insincere 'Oh, I shouldn't...'That's all bullshit, of course. I don't have a very dominant sweet tooth; I don't get excited about cupcakes or chocolate boxes or find Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-53482659267496720842012-02-04T12:44:00.008+00:002012-02-04T14:15:00.925+00:00Googly Eye PieI bought an enormous blue cookbook a few months ago. It looked alluringly serious and modern, promising astounding concoctions and constructions that would fit the Albert Adria / Heston Blumenthal molecular gastronomy trend. Marzipan telephones fitted with LEDs that light up when the doorbell goes, pigeon stew served inside clay pigeons that have to be shot out of the sky before Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-49129968612902841562012-01-15T20:38:00.015+00:002012-01-16T00:43:11.953+00:00Plenty SwankI find buffets quite stressful. When confronted with an enormous spread of food which I can approach in any way I fancy, in quantities and combinations completely of my choosing, I panic slightly. I'll expend an extraordinary amount of mental energy planning what to have, running through all the possible ways I could assemble my first plate and what I would have on my second plate if Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-43485222661546713452011-11-26T21:52:00.017+00:002011-11-26T23:48:48.735+00:00GrapefruitI enjoy grapefruit, the kind with red or pink flesh.I also really enjoy collecting cookbooks and cookery magazines from the 1960s and 1970s - the more lurid the photography, the more unappetising the recipes and cookery tips the better. This slim magazine which I found in a charity shop in the mid-2000s for 50p keeps giving and giving.Within its pages, among tips on how to host the Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-21771440147678038382011-07-13T22:24:00.010+00:002011-07-13T23:01:52.646+00:00"Sir, your zip"The train carriage was busy and I couldn't help but make eye contact with the rather jolly middle aged man in a suit who boarded and stood opposite me. He was cheerfully flicking through the free evening paper, and caught my eye again with a friendly little smile when he unwrapped a sweet and put it in his mouth. He was friendly probably because he wasn't sure why I kept sneaking Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-22442422985210537532011-02-14T11:30:00.001+00:002011-02-14T11:30:02.133+00:00Originally posted on Londonist, here.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -10 mg dance, 8mg theatre, 3.75 ml science: Side Effects is a performance exploring society's relationship to medicine. Can it make us feel better about what we take to feel better?REPORT: patient analysis after one dose of dance-theatre Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-6560202459080770902010-12-04T14:00:00.000+00:002010-12-04T14:00:01.734+00:00Add An Egg"But how do you get the sauce to thicken?" Susanna's mother paused with meat cleaver in mid-air, giving the raw pork she had been aggressively mincing a brief respite. "It never separates when you make the sauce. I can't stop mine from turning into hot greasy water with flecks of dried scallop in it. How do you do it?"Susanna's mother stared at her unnervingly and without blinking for aHypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-16174687624912968772010-06-28T11:00:00.001+00:002010-06-28T11:00:13.694+00:00Switzerland's Seventies Waiting RoomYes, it was still the 1970s in the waiting room while it was 2010 outside. Decades had gone by, as they should have, streaming past the windows in changing blurs of fashion, technology and politics. The small group inside the room often stood looking out or peered anxiously from their sticky brown leather chairs at the rapidly changing scenery outside, an Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-61553506529523336022010-06-21T10:30:00.000+00:002010-06-21T10:50:40.318+00:00Wipe Clean SurfacesPhoto courtesy of Will Wiles.Maria kept wiping the plastic cover on her armchair with a damp sponge, until the repeated application of diluted washing up liquid wore through the seat cover. Rather than stop with the sponge, Maria simply added a second plastic cover directly on top of the first. There was, by this point, a third sheet of wipe-clean PVC on the coffee table and Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-22470583130413650612010-06-14T11:25:00.000+00:002010-06-14T11:40:01.559+00:00Door To Door To DoorPhoto courtesy of Will Wiles.The local authorities couldn't have anticipated it but they were rather shortsighted to heap all the doors together in the car park like that. Doors are trouble; they slam, they trap hands and break fingers, they get broken down, kicked in, locked up. They remember.Doors are like mirrors: if you think about them too long, have too many of them Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-76138569638897417182010-03-30T11:37:00.004+00:002011-11-27T14:57:03.118+00:00Vino de Mesa It was as awful as it promised to be, and worse.The credit crunch dinner date at Jim's house had been compiled with a certain amount of young hipster irony and genuine necessary economy. He and Steve were still getting to know one another and it was risky but cheap to have Steve come over for a homecooked meal: he budgeted for 50 per cent pasta, 5 per cent pesto and 45 per cent Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-62352721595016940122010-03-20T03:26:00.006+00:002010-03-29T00:00:41.608+00:00Feeling The Wobbles The jelly did have blood in it. That's what Mrs Dimbleby meant when she said it was high in iron. Everyone commented on how rich the flavour was, how refreshing and moreish. And it's good for you, she would remind her red-lipped customers. Low in fat and high in vitamins and minerals - it's not a just a light wobbly treat on a summer's day, it's a tonic for whatever Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-83377977112143755312010-02-22T00:32:00.003+00:002010-02-22T01:31:17.883+00:00Lucky DuckiesDespite being part of the funfair, it was not a fun event for the ducks. They had suffered the screwing in of hooks to their heads that morning, the pond was far too small them all and they had bobbed about desperately all day hoping to be rescued by a merciful human with a hook on the end of a stick.Very few ducks got the chance to see the hook for themselves; most ended up on the Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-34534985978311087032010-02-14T21:41:00.002+00:002010-02-14T21:54:15.098+00:00The View Is Better From Up Here"[Laughing] It's a real lion! I can't believe it!""That's not real. It can't be.""It's real! Listen to it growl. That's a real lion. I can't believe they've got a real lion in for the lion dance! Look at it go!""No! It's not real! It's dangerous. It could eat someone.""No it wouldn't, they're just going to make it jump around a bit and then..."[Pause]"OH MY GOD! IT Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-79396800430040129072010-02-01T01:05:00.003+00:002010-02-01T01:29:31.585+00:00LipstickThey were all the same shade of red. The twist-up tubes, the little pots, the long wands, the pencils, the clever pens with built-in brush that loaded up with pigment at a click of a button... They were all the same colour. It was no good how long she shopped, how hard she worked at it: she always came home with the same black trousers, the same single colour cotton shirts, the same Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-35687611502383334852010-01-25T01:27:00.002+00:002010-01-25T02:12:23.599+00:00Three Course DisasterThe cream was meant to go with the apple pie for pudding but an ill-judged, violent dash onto the train just before the doors closed had disastrous consequences. She watched in dismay as the white stain spread across the carriage floor and thought desperately of what to serve instead - custard? Creme fraiche? Ice cream? Or... perhaps the pie didn't need any sort of sauce and Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-10994447904226137632010-01-18T01:46:00.003+00:002010-01-18T02:38:42.892+00:00A New Wardrobe for a Growing GirlTwo friends of mine had lots of leftover black velvet from upholstering some armchairs and wanted beanbags made from the material. I offered to cut and sew the beanbags and had a very enjoyable weekend in my living room, sitting at my sewing machine as rain lashed at the windows. I took this photo to capture the perfect contentment of the afternoon and to remind Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-77061954569945621462010-01-11T00:41:00.006+00:002010-01-11T01:01:27.109+00:00Serves FourI ate it all myself. The second spoon was for the chocolate sprinkles I added on top. That night, I dreamt my hands had turned the same shade of yellow as the custard in the trifle and everytime I touched something, it turned yellow too. I woke up sucking my thumbs and a corner of the duvet.The next time I went to the supermarket, I picked up a tiramisu for two. When I went to sleep, IHypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-73133770249862249872009-11-05T10:40:00.007+00:002011-11-27T14:46:20.537+00:00ZZ Top Rocker Takes The TubeOriginally on Londonist here: I ponder the potential for tube-based adventures with Billy Gibbons of ZZ TopIf you're preparing to head home on the tube, be vigilant for the famous grizzled beard of Billy Gibbons, guitarist of the honourable rock band ZZ Top. He favours the tube over a fancy limo as demonstrated when he played Wembley last week, and took the Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-1750828995249127272009-10-26T09:15:00.002+00:002009-10-26T09:17:33.514+00:00Theatre: The Abattoir PagesOriginally on Londonist here: I write about a horror theatre thing that had great atmosphere and effect but an unappealing script and plot.You are invited to a secret party in the old abattoir by horror author Helen Mayer. You are called to the door. You are led into the dark. And you are kept there for the rest of the evening. The Abattoir Pages by Foolish People (Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-51091100880699901312009-10-22T23:11:00.002+00:002009-10-22T23:16:35.329+00:00Theatre: Tips For A Small Town AnywhereOriginally on Londonist here: I write about the amazing time I had at the latest Coney (Rabbit) adventure)So this is the play: A Small Town Anywhere. And this is how it works: A Small Town Anywhere. And that's almost all that we can tell you because this is such an extraordinary and unique theatrical experiment, anything we tell you about our own experience Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-26925252941314173942009-10-08T15:00:00.000+00:002009-10-08T15:00:05.447+00:00A Storm in a Bowl of Shark's Fin SoupOriginally on Londonist here: I write about the shark's fin soup controversy in London's top restaurants and introduce the melon alternative.Shark's fin soup: it's basically boiled cartilage. And this week, it is served with extra controversy, courtesy of a spat at The Dorchester Hotel's China Tang restaurant that serves this contentious concoction. Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3808870.post-30996209774870063822009-10-06T15:00:00.000+00:002009-10-06T15:00:04.916+00:00The Happy on Hypatia Avenue No. 9: Boning a ChickenYes, that chicken has no bones! Yes, I boned a chicken! I totally boned a chicken and I was so damn proud of myself... it's not a task for the squeamish and should you wish to attempt it, I recommend sharpening your knife to 'scary' in order to get it done neater and with more panache than I managed. I took a quality chicken and started by Hypatiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16319098247064658178noreply@blogger.com0