2020

January 10, 2020 Silviana Khurniawan

This was not taken on New Year’s Eve. This was taken during our Engagement Dinner back in September 2019. This is just to illustrate the celebration and festivity we felt on New Year’s Eve, despite the absence of an actual party

New Year’s Eve was a quiet affair.

We spent a large portion of it sitting anxiously in front of our entry-level mini oven - as Richard, my husband (sometimes it still feels weird to say that), likes to call it - keeping an eye on the chicken we were roasting. The chicken was poulet de Bresse, which meant it enjoyed running around the farm throughout its life, and it cost us €35. So, you see, we wouldn’t want anything bad happen to it. Additionally, if we screwed up, we had no plan B for our NYE dinner. We had no other options but to succeed.

Flour, Eggs & Water

December 22, 2019 Silviana Khurniawan

Chicken mushroom noodle I made from scratch

It all started because I wanted to eat a bowl of fresh handmade noodles.

I wasn’t sure what possessed me but I suddenly had this very strong urge to make my own noodles at home. Fueled with determination after binge watching noodle making tutorials, I grabbed my keys and walked to the supermarket, bread flour and eggs on the top of my list.

And then, the unexpected happened. As soon as I mixed the bread flour with eggs and water, the scent of the dough filled the air. It was a scent so strangely familiar that I was heady with nostalgia.

Avelino and The Olive Trees in Monsaraz, Portugal

August 9, 2018 Silviana Khurniawan

The gust of wind from the opened car windows blew the last hope I had of retaining any volume in my hair. The scorching sun penetrated my skin, the leather upholstery of the car seat absorbing and distributing the heat faster than I could adjust my sitting position.

The highway was empty except for the occasional one or two other cars we passed by. I felt a strange sense of solidarity rising up with those cars, it was as if we were in the impossible race against the sun together.

I was sitting at the back seat of an older model of Mercedes-Benz taxi. Avelino, the driver, a Portuguese man in his 60s with a considerably thick mane of salt-and-pepper hair, was behind the wheels. We were heading to Monsaraz, a village I had no prior knowledge about, 2 hours away from Lisbon.

Tea & Company

June 15, 2017 Silviana Khurniawan

Dear cousin,

You invited me over to your house for an evening cup of oolong tea. I was expecting a cup of excellent tea, prepared with meticulous precision, to accompany my last night in Taipei. I certainly wasn’t prepared for what was in store.

You see, what you might not have realized, when you explained to me so passionately how different the process of preparing oolong tea from black tea turns out to be, is that you taught me so much more than how to brew tea; you taught me about life. You taught me that passion, just like brewing tea, always has to be accompanied by patience. Like your clay teapot that gradually shines as you use it over and over, we don’t get to be brilliant without persistence and determination. We don’t master something overnight but who's to say we can’t sit back, relax and enjoy a soothing cup of tea in the process?

Water Drops

March 6, 2017 Silviana Khurniawan

The shower had been on for what seemed like forever. Steam had long since taken over the whole bathroom, rendering the mirrors useless. I was still standing under the shower, letting stream of water envelop me. My whole body was wet; my hair was drenched. The frothy foam had disappeared without a trace. Yet, I remained still.

My eyes felt warm. I didn’t know if it was from the shampoo or from the constant stream of water. Before I could guess, my body shook violently I was gasping for air.