I also remember when I finally bothered to taste prunes. Delicious! I thought they’d be a great healthy snack to eat in front of the television, and ate half a bag at once. Then I discovered what eating so many prunes at once does to the digestive system. Fortunately I didn’t have anywhere to go the next morning.

So I’m on to you, prunes. You are tasty but dangerous. And I worry that prune juice may be concentrated trouble.

It looks like brown muddy water. Not attractive.

Unscrewing the metal lid off the glass bottle. Sniff. Heavy sticky-treacle scent of essence of prune. Mmm.

Sip. The smell is stronger than the taste. It does taste like prunes, but with less bite. Still syrup-sweet. It’s almost like a dessert wine!

I miss the soft chewy texture of the dried fruit. I mean, it’s okay. Nothing wrong with it. But I’d always rather eat than drink.

Also then I can regulate my prune intake to prevent another… incident.

But I’m going to finish the bottle! And then maybe I should find some marmite to taste.

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Sunraysia prune juice, bought from Coles Macquarie Fields

Ooops, the fridge has semi-solidified the condensed milk. Scraping it from the plastic container into the saucepan. Tossing in cocoa, vanilla essence, a little salt and a layer of hot water. Stir. The condensed milk tries to stick to the bottom; not on my watch.

Glancing at the recipe. Ooops, I was supposed to mix everything else first and then add the water. Too late now!

Mixing. Lumps of cocoa insist on floating through. Squishing them against the sides of the saucepan with the back of the spoon, making chocolate smears.

Hmm, this won’t make two cups. More water.

Get The Husband over to taste, since it was his desire for hot chocolate that sparked this escapade. He approves.

Pouring into his mug. Fill it up. Pour into mine. Only gets half-full before the hot chocolate runs out. A few clumps of cocoa paste plop into my mug. Should have followed the recipe and added more water. Oh well, I’m sure half a cup still tastes as good as a full cup.

Sip. Ow! Burnt tongue.

Blow. Hush, my hot chocolate, calm down and be tasty.

Sip mark two. Warm and thick. Smoother than I’d feared after those lumps. Sweetly delicious. Swallow. Whoa! It’s so rich it sears my throat, burning as it goes down and leaving a warm trail in its past. Cocoa kapow!

I love heavy, creamy desserts. Works for me in liquid form too.

Imbibing it slowly, surely. The richness is all from the condensed milk; the cocoa is just a backup until the swallow.

This is no morning tea hot chocolate, but as an after-dinner luxury on a cold night it’s perfect.

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Condensed milk hot chocolate, made roughly to this recipe from Culinary Kicks

“Yes, a herbal tea. I don’t mind which.” Surprise and cheerful ribbing from my colleagues.

But now, along with some other extras, the order is huge. How will Gossip Support carry it all?

Volunteering to go along. Be nice to have a little walk outside since the rain has paused.

Chaos at the counter. “Five flat whites, one soy, one skim.”

“Seven flat whites?”

“No no, three regular, one soy, one skim.”

“So three regular flat whites, one soy flat white, one skim.”

“They’re all large. Three large regular…”

And it goes on and on. Standing quietly in the corner while the conversation is untangled, sniffing at my lemongrass and ginger tea. The smell is so strong that it conquers the coffee scent. The ginger out-wafts the lemongrass, but it’s there, hiding…

Back at my desk. Pull the lid off the cup to cool it for my over-sensitive tongue.

Oh, the teabag is not just powdered tea, it’s a cloth-like triangle filled with chopped green lemongrass stem and fresh crushed ginger. It looks like something I’d put into a stir-fry. It looks tastily edible. I’m tempted to break into the bag while I wait for tea to cool… But no, no, such shenanigans are not office-appropriate.

Sniff the tea and teabag separately. The teabag has all the ginger smell, the hot tea gives off a softer lemon sense.

Carefully try for a sip. Ow, my lip! Too hot.

Wait. Try.

Perfect heat now, very warm but not burning.

Herbal teas never taste as good as they smell. This is once more true, but at least it doesn’t taste just like regular black tea either. There is the bitterness of tea, but along with it a soft ginger zing on the front of my tongue, a mellow citrus aftertaste.

I add the beautiful teabag back into the cup. Sip. The ginger is
instantly much stronger, hanging around long after I swallow. In fact,
it’s like it gets stronger the more time passes. Kind of fun in its
buzz. The bag can stay in.

This is probably the best herbal tea I’ve ever tasted. Certainly the only one with fresh ingredients. And hopefully all this hot water will distract my stomach and tongue until the clock ticks to lunch.

Rating: 2.5 out of 5 stars

Specifics: T2 Lemongrass & Ginger teabag, takeaway from Café Sparta, Merrylands

Thirsty.

Don’t care. Sleep.

Thirsty and need to pee.

Argh.

What’s the time? The Husband suggested a trip to Newtown for breakfast this morning, and I don’t want to be hungry before we leave or I’ll be crankypants by the time we find a parking spot. Crankypants no good for breakfast dates.

Probably time to arise. But soooo waaaaarm…

***

Oo, the table at the window is free, nab a seat and claim the prime people-watching position!

Menu, menu… I always get the pancakes cause they are fantastic, but I really do need to keep extending my wings…

Hmm, vegetarian tortilla? The Husband has talked about how he used to have tortillas for breakfast in Guatemala. Maybe I will try! Weird that it says ‘grilled vegetables’ but not egg – doesn’t sound very Mexican – but okay.

That’s not really a new food though… that’s just eating dinner food at breakfast. I can’t write about that.

But I could get a drink I haven’t had before!

Let’s see… darn it, they all include orange juice… oh, here’s one. ‘Pineapple cocktail, with apple mint and ice’. Er… but I don’t want to get my booze on at 9am…

Asking the waitress; it’s alcohol free! So more of a frappé. All to the good.

She returns with a glass of green. The juice is a light green, lighter than grass but the crayon colour children use to represent it. There are tiny flecks of dark green mint all through it. At least half the glass is a mush of ice and juice, with a bottom story of juice.

Stirring with my straw. Take a sip.

Erk! I think there’s orange juice in it after all. But that wasn’t  listed!

Warily trying again. It’s very tart, that’s certain. But you’re being paranoid. If there were any orange at all in it it would show in the colour. It’s just pineapple. Relax.

Sip again. I like it more now that I don’t think it’s orange.

The pineapple flavour is not as sweet as I’d expect, it really is quite tart. The mint is there in the background but not too strong. There is an apple note in it, perhaps there is green apple in there supplying all the bite.

It’s okay. This is why I don’t normally go for frappés… I just don’t care much for fruit juice. Also, this really needed some really sweet pineapple flavour… maybe it’s the wrong time of year… I do think it is actual fresh from the fruit because I saw her carrying a stack of whole pineapples over to the drinks bay earlier. Can’t complain much if you order a drink out of season.

But good to have my avoidance of frappés confirmed. And now the food arrives.

Blinking at the plate in front of me. Surprising. My tortilla is not the rolled up snack I had imagined, but a giant pile of eggplant and roasted capsicum with melted cheese pizza-style on a tortilla base. A fried egg is perched on top, guacamole and sour cream to the side.

I really don’t think that mediteranian-style eggplant and capsicum should even be in a breakfast tortilla, let alone make up the bulk. Or they should at least be on the menu! And funny that there is an egg when it wasn’t listed, though I am happy about that…

Taste. Well, it tastes fine, it tastes like mediterranean vegetables. Not really what I wanted at this hour.

Um, but the more I eat the more I know that I am going to stuff myself silly. Because I’ve got the taste for it now… and I hate to waste… nomnomnom…

The Husband drinks the rest of my frappé for me so I don’t have to be sad about it going to waste, even though he’s not much of a fan either. So nice to me!

Very full… would not order either of those again… wish things were more accurately described on the menu… but a satisfied stomach nonetheless, and a lovely start to the day with my love.

Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Pineapple cocktail and vegetarian tortilla eaten at Corelli’s Café, Newtown

Herbal teas… yuck… earl grey tea… yuck…

Oh… milk and honey. Well, I like milk. I like honey. I can’t imagine how that would be a bad combination.

Outside the window the snow begins to fall thicker… yes, this does seem like a milk and honey occasion.

The glass the waitress brings is quite large. It’s clear, and I can see a puddle of honey at the bottom with the milk poured over it. That makes sense, much easier to heat up the milk solo and let me stir it in!

Tasting the milk alone. It has that slightly nuanced UHT taste that milk from Asia always seems to. It’s the perfect temperature: warm but not hot, no skin but a little frothed.

Stir stir stir with the spoon!

Trying it again… whoa! The honey-taste is really strong! No milk flavour at all now, I could be drinking honey alone!

It’s a bit too strong at first, but the second taste is better. Perhaps because the shock factor is gone.

It’s a very floral honey, sweet, with a warmth from the taste that lingers on the tongue and cheers me from toe to tip.

Perhaps a bit too sugary, in the end. But a little less honey and this could be my traditional drink on these snowy days…

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Milk and honey from Nomad Legends Монгол клуб

Now I’m sitting in the apartment on a loaned laptop with the Husband and our host Mr Corridor both on their computers. And I’m trying rosehip and hibiscus tea.

Normally I’m very dubious of herbal teas, especially fruit-flavoured ones. They always smell nice but taste too bitter. I only let this one steep for a minute rather than the suggested three or four so hopefully it’s panned out.

I’m really only drinking this because Mrs Corridor said it was a gift that neither of them really like. If I can help clean out a cupboard I will!

Let it sit for a long time: I hate really hot liquids. It’s red as raspberry cordial. The smell is subdued.

It tastes quite tart in the mouth, with that instant dry feeling on the tongue. Once swallowed it leaves a sweet taste, pleasant.

I don’t know what rosehip or hibiscus is supposed to taste like, but for a herbal tea this is quite nice.

It’s gotten a bit cold and less pleasant now. It sits heavier now, not as refreshing as before.

But that’s okay, I can always add more hot water! And in this climate you can’t drink too much of that.

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Rosehip and hibiscus tea made by Impra

Anyway, I’m hungry. Ooo, they’re handing out drinks…

Now I have a paper cup filled with what looks like milk and smells like butter. This must be Mongolian salty milk tea. Though why is it called tea? I don’t think there’s any actual tea in it. But then we have herbal teas with no tea, and green tea, so whatever.

Sniff. Yeah, pretty creamy and salty. I can see some threads of oil swirling across the surface.

Here goes!

First impression: warm and salty. If I hold it in my mouth then the milky creaminess becomes more distinct. After it’s swallowed it feels like I just had liquefied butter in my mouth.

You know, it’s exactly like someone decided to make popcorn-flavoured milk.

It’s not bad… it’s not great… it’s doable… but I drink the last of it quickly to get it gone.

Better than Tibetan tea! This stuff may have been made with powder, it’s just come from a thermos at the back of the building so maybe that’s why it was more palatable.

At least now there’s nothing to fear if a Mongolian offers me some!

Rating: 1.5 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Mongolian milk tea, handed to me by persons unknown at World Harvest Mission Church

Orchids are my favourite flower. I would have done without blossoms at our wedding if it weren’t for their existence. I love the delicate unique shape, the vivid seamless merge of bright colour, the long uncrowded stems. But I didn’t know you could eat them too.

Though it’s possible that I’m not eating them today either. The menu says it’s hot milk with rosewater and cinnamon; if it were authentic I would imagine it wouldn’t need so many other flavours.

I shouldn’t have ordered it. I spent the last half hour walking here: I’m hot and it’s 37C. But who can resist orchids? Never me.

It comes looking just like a chai latte, a beautiful white froth with a heavy cinnamon coating in a silver metal mug.

Spooning into the foam. It doesn’t just appear to be a chai latte, it also smells and tastes like one too. The cinnamon is very strong, mixed into the milk as well as dusted on. There is no ginger bite like chai though… no rosewater taste or scent that I can detect.

It is quite nice though.

There is a slight extra thickness to the liquid… perhaps that’s the ground orchid? There is no unfamiliar taste though… just sweetened milk and cinnamon…

Tasty enough to be drunk even in this heat. But disappointing… surely orchids should taste like something? Or why use them at all?

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Salep from Badde Manors, Glebe

I’m going to have to do it. I really don’t want to. But I’m going to have to.

I’m going to have to order a weird drink.

Drinks are always so filling, and such a waste of calories. If I didn’t get a drink I could eat more!

But I have not had my new food for the day and the sun has set. Fine, fine. Flick to the drinks page. Skip all the soft drinks.

‘Healthy Drink’. Wow, that’s getting your selling point out there. Maybe I should market a car called Fast.

So ‘Healthy Drink’, what do you have in you? Lotus seeds, dried longan, jelly, seaweed and ice. I don’t even know what longan is! This is going to be weird indeed.

***

The Sunny Princess and I stare in wonder as the waitress places down a huge milkshake glass piled over the brim with ice. Through the glass there’s many a mysterious brown ball, the occasional red lump, and other identifiable objects.

But they are all trapped under the layer of ice. How do I get to them? Drink the liquid away some I suppose.

There’s a straw and a long spoon. Big breath and a suck on the straw.

How can they call this healthy? It’s so sweet! There’s clearly a huge amount of sugar in it! That’s pretty much what the liquid tastes like: sugar water.

Cough. A lump of something went up the straw and into my lungs. Choking, waving the Sunny Princess’ concerned look away.

So it’s unhealthy and it clearly wants to kill me.

“Do you want to try?”

“Maybe later,” says the uncertain Sunny Princess.

***

Enough liquid has been drunk and ice melted that I can finally start on the solids.

Inventory!

Firstly, there is no seaweed in this. Maybe they thought that would be too weird for the white girl and they did me a kindness. I am okay with that.

There is barley, the kind I put in vegetable soup. It’s softening on the outside but the centre is a lot firmer than I would cook to, so firm it needs to be swallowed rather than chewed. Not much flavour here.

Another surprise: ginkgo nuts. They look like giant peanut halves, but sweet with a bean texture when chewed. Not bad, just unfamiliar. Not a fan of the roughness they leave on my teeth.

The final unannounced ingredient: red dates. These I like, as they aren’t as strongly rich as regular dates but still with that distinctive taste. Mmm dates.

Back to the scheduled programming.

The jelly is in long strings, like thin fettuccine. It is chewy. It has no flavour. I am not going to make an effort to eat any more of it.

I can’t bite through the lotus seed: it chews down into a compacted version of itself but won’t break up. Never liked things that do that oyster-like trick. Swallow. Bland. Next.

The dried longan is forgettable.

Really, the sugary syrup is making everything else seem tasteless. The only thing strong enough to compliment is the date (though the ginkgo nuts are nearly there).

The Sunny Princess gives into curiosity and tries each bit. Her time in China and the Philippines has served her well, she enjoys it more than I. But there is still more than a third left in the glass when we leave.

Well, I complained about not wanting to drink when I could eat and the ‘healthy drink’ sure took me down a peg!

Rating: 1.5 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Che sam bo luong from The Viet, Newtown

Hmm… maybe. I can’t commit to tea in general though… what if it’s yucky yucky Early Grey? “What do you have?”

Peering inside the metal container passed to me. There are green teas, jasmine teas… and one that looks like a possibility. “What’s Monk tea like?”

“It’s got bergamot and pear. Bergamot is in Earl Grey.”

Warning, warning!

My friend puts down a beautiful teapot with two matching cups and pours us both a glass after it has sat for awhile. She begins drinking it straight away and declares that she may have steeped it too long, it’s too bitter. I blow and blow and try and to cool it.

Finally cool enough! Take a sip… is it dishwater Earl Grey… no! It is like regular black tea but with a citrus after-ring.

It’s not too bitter, even though I take it black unsweetened. It’s smooth and cleansing while the pear note is refreshing. This warm tea on a hot night is oddly reviving.

I sip and sip and resolve to be more open to new tea in the future.

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Specifics: Monk Tea from The Tea Centre