The Last Day Of 2009

On the flight home, I didn't want anything on the menu and requested for them to do a bowl of fishball noodles in soup for me. They did it nicely with kway teow and fresh vegetables. That soup stock was rather well done, I must say. Chicken stock was used, but hey, at least they didn't use instant seasoning. The dish was light on the salt. And they gave me sliced red chillies. Yummmz. Honestly, this is the one dish I think that's the best on their 'gourmet' menu. :p

There were plenty of empty seats in the plane. So I toddled down the aisle, plonked myself into one and stared out into the sky. There were stars in the black sky. I really like staring at them. On the ground, I don't get a chance to stare out into the night sky. I suppose we could have a picnic out in the open at night in the wilderness somewhere. But then, I'd need toilets at some point and be paranoid about bugs. Heh. Mid-air, there aren't these sort of distractions. Looking out into nothingness but twinkling stars is comforting somehow.

Of course as we entered into Asia, the stars receded. Dawn was breaking. So that lovely sunrise with all its brilliant colors was quite a visual feast too. Swirling clouds, magical jewel hues span the horizon as far as the cabin window allowed. Breathtaking.

I can't help but feel refreshed and inspired for the new year. It's another decade. If only I can hold on to this good feeling for a long while yet.

Oh and to you lovely people, have a wonderful 2010.

Homebound

At Heathrow Terminal 3, there is a bar that interests me very much. It's the Caviar House & Prunier Seafood Bar that's now right in front of the Chanel and Dior boutiques on either side.

When I travel, I've no interest in hanging out at airline lounges. Especially not when I'm due for a 12-hr flight. So at Heathrow T3 before my flight, I very much prefer to plonk myself at the bar and chill.

The reason for this interest- the Seafood Bar serves fantastic cubes of Norwegian salmon and importantly- the sparkling water from Speyside Glenlivet. Nicely chilled, the taste is crisp and oh-so-refreshing.

The bar sits in the middle of a bustling airport with hundreds of humans. They provide only counters and high chairs, not quite what you'd term as fine dining. But the food served is of a very good quality- if you like a cold snack, breakfast or lunch. No hot food here except for coffee. But it's oddly relaxing to tuck into the food and drinks amidst the din.

In addition to its frequently updated website, the humans manning Heathrow Airport's twitter are good. They provide the latest information on things happening at the terminals and (sometimes) Tube lines. So glad to know that our flight home isn't cancelled except for a delay in de-icing the Big Bird's wings.

The Paperbags

I'm most certainly not going to be laden with heavy items for the flight home except for those items I want. Everything else on the friends's shopping lists, books, groceries and heavy stuff have been shipped back.

Well, the content in the photo above does not consist of a bag. This particular paperbag contains clothes. I paid for them. But I didn't go out to buy it. Like I said, the wonders of an efficient concierge. I really have better things to do in London than to go shopping. I rather sit in a gallery and sketch or sit in a cafe with a book for 2 hours.

So the many Chanel and other paperbags in the room have been abandoned and their contents squashed into the suitcases. Very not glamorous. Don't care. It makes for easy travelling. Forget clothes and shoes. It's winter here, there's nothing very much to buy. Not even stilettos and certainly not Louboutins. A couple of Kurt Geiger ballet flats are about the only shoes I'm interested in. The thing is, I'm coming home with 10 new bags. W.T.F.

A trip's not complete with a nicely wrapped Chanel paperbag with its precious contents to take home huh?

Note how I utter the line with utmost sarcasm and self-mockery.

Restaurants: Tally For Dec

I've been eating only 2.5 meals a day in London. But both are such heavy heavy meals. Of course there is the tea in between. Luckily, there is all that walking and riding to compensate for the possible weight gain. Besides the quick meals (burgers!), sandwiches, tapas and dips, we've had fantabulous dinners in London. First rate chefs and kitchens, professional and excellent service, conversation and recommendations from the floor staff. Each dinner is a whole dining experience.

However, the restaurants we're fond of aren't the ones known for progressive dining. We like the ones which serve food just, properly cooked and presented. Modern European dining, so to speak. We're boring that way. I like how the portions are so perfectly balanced that I still have space for a starter and a dessert.

The one thing is, in many chic restaurants, there is a strict no-photography policy. It is understood that the restaurants' clientele are not comfortable in the presence of cameras and obvious photo-taking. The restaurants are also insistent on their creative copyrights when it comes to presentation of food. In this sort of ambience, it makes me feel uncomfortable to even bother whipping out the camera. It feels like this complete breach of etiquette and protocol.

We've been taken out to the dining rooms at the private clubs which had pretty good broth and solid food. I've intentionally avoided some of the known restaurants run by certain celebrity chefs because I didn't have a good experience last round and the friends have given them a thumbs down as well. Some of the other exquisite restaurants in and out of the city we've had the pleasure to dine at (and again) are:

• Pied-à-Terre
• L'Autre Pied
• Koffmann's
• Manoir Au Quat Saisons
• Whatley Manor
  
• La Trompette
• The Glasshouse
• Chez Bruce
• The Gate
• The Hand & Flowers
• The Ledbury

It's such a lovely thing to dress up for dinners.

Museums & Galleries: Tally For Dec

Aside from visiting the usual suspects (Tate, National Gallery, British Museum, The Queen's Gallery, etc) which housed new exhibits, I've also made time to visit others that I didn't manage to get to in June.

• The Victoria and Albert Museum (All 3 of them)
• Horniman Museum & Gardens
• Dulwich Picture Gallery
• Pollocks Toy Museum
• The Hayward
• Transport Museum
• Guildhall Art Gallery
• Fashion and Textile Museum
• Dali Universe
• The Cartoon Museum
• The Jewish Museum
• Florence Nightingale Museum
• Serpentine Gallery
  

Quite a good count. Am very pleased.

One Last Cup Of Monmouth Coffee

I've not actually sat down at the outlet on Monmouth Street for coffee. It's always a grab and go. The booths are tiny and only seat about 12 at any one time. There's always this really long queue to sit down and have a cuppa. The average waiting time is about 25 minutes, unless you're really lucky to catch the cafe at an off-peak hour. As much time as I have in the world, I can't be bothered to wait, even if it's freaking cold outside.

But for this last cuppa, I'm determined to sit down. I will miss the flavors and aroma of Monmouth Coffee very very much. There is nothing like this in Singapore.

On this freeze-my-ass-off day, there were plenty plenty humans thronging the cafe. I wondered why. Perhaps it was because of the gloomy rain. So I waited in line for a seat and amused myself by the going-ons of coffee-making. For all that waiting, I was very tempted to order 2 cups of flat white. Sadly, I could only stomach one. Their coffee is strong!

Being Unfriendly To The Environment

These are just some of the bottles I had in the day at the cafes. Since the nights don't seem to encourage cameras, I didn't take any photos of those ordered at dinner.

But sparkling water is very very nice. Tasty water, I call it. Little trace of sodium and very very refreshing. There're so many options available in London that I'm completely spoilt for choice. When it's on the menu, I cannot resist ordering a bottle.

Please don't yell too loudly at me. :(

Paper Things

There are Paperchase, Foyles, museum shops and other bookshops that dot the city. I went crazy over the amazing selection of cards and postcards available. The taglines, the colors, design, etc. I like how cards nowadays have been left blank on the inside for us to write our own messages.

Notebooks are included in the mad shove into the shopping basket too. Not the moleskins, but rather the spiral notebooks. There're plenty of color options and selections for the really practical spiral notebooks that we use at work. Those are great perk-me-ups at the office.

Obviously I've been very deprived of pretty things.

Colorful Cakes

After passing by the colorful displays of Candy Cakes at all 3 outlets every other day, I have pop into one just to see what's the fuss all about.

There is also the Hummingbird Bakery, but it's American. Heee. So I shall veer away the same manner I avoid Starbucks in London. I'm very suspicious of desserts that look really good- they usually don't taste like anything I'd imagined. Least of all, cupcakes and macarons. Not easy to get good ones.

I sat on a little stool in the store and had a slice of cake and a shake. I just wanted to get out of the cold streets and get some warmth. I don't have a sweet tooth, so ummmm.....I find them a little too sweet. Don't want to eat all that cream/icing thingy. The marshmellows are nice!

But yes, the confectionery looks really really good. If I'd gotten cakes like that for my 18th or 21st birthday party, I'd so feel like a princess.

The Hoerengracht @ National Gallery

The one exhibition that prompted a return to the National Gallery is Kienholz: The Hoerengracht. Lit with a soft red glow with music playing in the background, the installation transports you directly into the streets of Amsterdam's red light district.

In the installation of human figures in the streets, the life-size mannequins (cast from real humans) milling about at their doorways and in the little ground floor rooms. I'm lazy to describe it vividly- Liz Anderson's article in Spectator provides more information on the installation.

Prostitution is the oldest profession in the world. It's never going to go away. With this installation, the artists hope that the girls will gain police protection in places where brothels are legal.

The life size figures are intriguing. They've been cast from female friends of the Kienholzes, painted and dressed to the theme. I like how their faces are each framed by a cookie tin. There's a vacant look to their facial expressions. It's as though they're trying to distance themselves from it all, or it could their minds simply retreating into another world. They all wear this cookie tin with a glass top around their heads so that their faces show, as if to tell the visitors that they can sell their body, but not their mind and soul.

I like the details that go into each room. It isn't an art installation that I could breeze through and leave. The details are too arresting not to linger and peer through the windows.

Desserts At Tate Modern

I don't know why we seem to find the time and inclination for dessert when we don't exactly bother with it at home.

People seem to take alot of pride in their desserts here. In places where we've had crap food, their desserts were the opposite. I don't know much about the workings of restaurants in UK. But I'm guessing that they definitely have a separate and usually talented pastry chef.

We returned to the cafe at Tate Modern for its desserts. I can't stand macarons anymore. By now, we've tried all its current desserts on the menu. At £4.95 per item, I thought them rather reasonable for the quality of the ingredients used. I love the flourless chocolate cake and fig and marsala trifle. Its Caerphilly cheese with apple chutney and oat cakes (£5.95) are quite unusual (for me) as well.

This time, we had the sticky toffee pudding with milk ice-cream and pear and cinnamon crumble with vanilla ice-cream. They use proper vanilla beans in their vanilla ice-cream!!!! (Like Tillamook ice-cream in our supermarkets) I hate the crap vanilla ice-cream served by so many Singapore cafes. Both are heavenly. Melting bits of goodness. I love how they do ice-cream here.

Dessert + a good brew of coffee or (a hot cup of loose leaf tea) = A fantastic afternoon.

How The Brain Works

I've been liking the decisions I've to make for the last 2 weeks. It isn't too taxing, but they involve keeping me (or/and the man) happy for the day.

The best part about a long break is, I could escape into a world I've almost forgotten. It's tempting me (back) into a life that I would have to make a conscious choice to lead and it might not make me a better person at the end of the year. I'll not like myself very much.

Like how the Aunts put it- "See what you're missing. See what you've missed?" Yea, I see your point, ladies, not that it's all bad, but it isn't the point ya know?

Since dinner reservations, gig tickets and all were confirmed way before we arrived in London, I're free to decide on other important issues. So far, it has consisted of:

• Which dress should I wear this morning?
• What bag should I carry to match the clothes?
• Should I wear the bling out?
• Flat white or cappucino?
• Sainsbury's, Tesco, Marks & Spencer or Waitrose? (Always the latter two)
• Rice- basmati, risotto, brown or Japanese?
• What sauce should go with which pasta? Cracked Peppercorn or Bourguignon?
• Milk- full cream homogenized or unhomogenized, semi-skimmed or top-skimmed?

The man thinks I'm a better person if I'm occupied, challenged and fulfilled. I'm all these now. That's why I usually don't strut out of the changing room to ask him, "Darling, do I look good in this dress?" Always, I alone decide. On this trip, fuelled by giddy-headed festivities and the chores of doing close to nothing, I've found myself clicking on shopping sites or cling on to him at the mall to ask, "Do you think this looks good on me? This color or that?" I seemed to have morphed into this person who can't even make any sort of vaguely independent decisions.

I'm horrified at myself. It stinks because my state of mind has been corrupted by the glitzy Christmas lights. The man is obviously indulgent and answers me. He usually goes, "Get both and put it on my tab." That takes the fun out of any 'serious' discussion on colors or designs and I end up not getting anything. The poor man is puzzled why I'm being needy and whiny. In our usual world, I'm so not like that at all. Goodness, I shouldn't go on these trips too often. It turns me into somebody that I'm not comfortable with!

Chiswick

The whole point of going to Chiswick was to have dinner at the surprisingly reasonably-priced and not too snooty La Trompette. However, we didn't just want to go there to eat. A couple of hours were spent exploring Chiswick. By the end of the evening, I was absolutely charmed by the town.

Chiswick is very picturesque. With the little sunlight we have, we wandered around the town and to Chiswick House. The town has managed to preserve many of its 18th - 19th century buildings and provide visitors with an insight of its architectural history.

The main road (Chiswick High Road) is home to many boutiques and cafes not found in town. (This High Road and Main Street thing, heheheh. I've been told that in London, people call the main streets 'High Road'. Only in US then it's called Main Street. Okay. High Road it is.) Very refreshing. It gave me such joy to stroll down the street, peering into the shop windows, checking out the wares and sitting down to tea before dinner. What a lovely recommendation of a dinner venue by the girlfriend.

And yes, another Oxfam bookstore sitting in Chiswick is checked off. Heeee.

Cream Soups

The thing I can't quite stand about the cream soups here is that they mean it literally. At all the restaurants, there is a generous ladle of cream added on top of the blended soup. I generally have a bland palate and prefer my food to be less heavy on the oils and creams.

In the case of the artichoke soup (pictured above) at Hix, I'm not sure what the kitchen was thinking, but they gave me alot of cream, oil and very very little blended soup. It was three-quarters oil and cream and one-quarter soup. It was rather vile tasting. The rest of the food sucked. We had a piece of beef which they claimed it was chargrilled. But it was tough and difficult to cut. It was almost well done instead of the medium as requested. I don't like Hix one bit- it's overrated for sure.

La Trompette on the other hand, was worth all its rave reviews at a really reasonably-priced menu. While giving me that dollop of cream (gougère and parmesan actually), the restaurant managed to remember that it was serving soup and gave me the smoothest pumpkin soup goodness in the base. They stuck to the one quarter cream and three quarters soup. Whew.

Luckily other restaurants sort of average out the soup parts. So soups are a major disappointment in our dining experiences. I always scoop out the top, gougère or not. I think the Chef had heart attacks by my actions. They might even be insulted. :P

That said, is the version of cream soups in Singapore a bastardized version? I realize the restaurants here go easy on the cream and dish out a milder version of whatever I've had so far in London.

A Morning Chat

I slipped into the kitchen early in the morning and made hot tea. I simply love the taste and scent of bi luo chun (碧螺春). Been drinking pots and pots of it on this trip.

An Aunt ghost into the area and held out a hand for a cup too. Silently, we sipped our tea and stared at the bleak wintry field.

I spied my reflection in the mirror and was reminded that the white hairs were out in full force now. No dye applied so far could cover those roots for more than 3 months. It's been quite annoying to see the scalp dotted by 1-inch white hairs all over, not forgetting those that turn white overnight somehow. I thought the Aunt would know better. "Do you know of any permanent hair dyes that stay permanent?"

She came closer, tenderly swept my fringe aside and tucked it behind the ear. She looked at me rather critically. "You're not wearing enough bling." She pronounced. I blinked. "You know, to divert attention away from the white hairs."

I rolled my eyes.

Christmas Fare At The Aunts'

Forget the turkey, ham and roast beef. I'm not big on them at all. Since there were other dishes on the table, I went for those instead! In fact, the pastas and salads were my favorites. The roasted turkey skin's pretty nice though.

What's Christmas without the Aunts' homemade gravy for all the food and their traditional dish of ox tongue (not from a tin)! Loved the onion bits and mash.

Despite the transport chaos all over UK, the pre-ordered fruitcakes and stuff from Country Fare and other stores arrived in the nick of time. The items were sent rather late from their promised dates of delivery, but at least it got here before Christmas. The fruit cake is an excellent cake heavy with Scotch whisky (of unknown origins) and lots of fruit. While we could really taste the whisky, the cake was still rather sweet.

We've been given a solid block of goose liver and champagne parfait and another identical fruit cake. Since the man's parents love ox tongue, we've been gifted a tin of cured ox tongue with jelly, all to take home to rainy Singapore. I've a feeling we're going to bust our luggage limit with these tins and bottles.

Like all Christmas feasting, we start at 1pm and the eating doesn't end till the food finishes. By that time, it'd be 5pm thereabouts. Add the variety of steaming hot teas and logcakes paraded out, it'd be more like 6pm. We're so full till we can't even stomach the thought of any more food for dinner. So for Christmas meals, just that one mega meal a day fill us up nicely. Burrrrrp. A supper of bread and soup would do for later perhaps.

Loaded With Bags

My Aunts are very clever. Before they gave me the huge paper bags, they pushed the acknowledgment/receipts from The Water Project into my hands and asked me for money in the same breath.

So I obliged by giving them whatever I had in my purse. Okay, while I read the information about The Water Project, they seized my purse and emptied it into their own bags. Basically they cleaned my pockets.

Then, out came the huge paper bags. Here're just 2 pictured, out of the 4 beauties received. I wanted to scold my Aunts. But they were so uppity about it. "Bought already, we can't return them. Why? Don't you like our taste? Are they very ugly?" DANG. Like this, how to say no? They're very draconian that way. Since I hit 21, the Aunts (and now the man's mom) have been annually contributing, generously, to my growing bag collection, i.e. they buy what they think look good on me and not what I like. Mostly, it has worked rather well, save for a couple of suspects.

I really don't mind the bags. It isn't necessary of course. None of us need another bag. But they're very pretty. But it's too much, considering that they've already forced wedding gifts down our throats. But yes, they're very very clever indeed to have these go in tandem with donations to The Water Project so that I won't yell too loudly.

Of course I'm not lugging the huge paper bags home. I'm taking out all the stuffings and boxes and squishing them into a suitcase. Yes, even for the other 2 in a black/white box with flower petals and the orange/brown horse carriage box. No carrying of paper bags and boxes onto the plane like as though I've gone on a major shopping spree. Bags are made of soft leather. So, SQUEEZE!

Out Of The City

As much as I like staying in town with all its conveniences, I also like heading out of the city to visit the Aunts.

(Note that the friends live in the city. It must be the age-lifestyle theory at play here.)

The Aunts live in charming houses. They've been in London for a long long time now. The residences are nothing palatial of course. What we have here are decent 8 - 10 bedroom houses sitting within a large garden with foxes running by and full bird-feeders and a garage or garden shed by the side. One has been converted from an old barn. Alot of tedious work and maintenance to be done, but the family has made it a beautiful home.

One of the Aunts owns a small stable of rescued/retired racehorses. This is her pet cause, literally. She has this thing about not having them put down. 2 are quite badly crippled, but otherwise healthy and free of drug-related illnesses. They can trot and still love a gallop of sorts with a human. They've got the most amiable natures. I like them very much. They've seen me grow up. Am surprised that they still recognized me after not seeing them for a good 4 years.

The saddling up and riding are so so fun in the cold. It's the wiping down that's alot of trouble. After the cool down mile, I've to hose the horses with water in the temperature-regulated stables and dry them thoroughly. In winter, she keeps the horses at about 8°C above the temperature for the day. The Aunt jokes that the heating bill for the horses cost more than the humans'. Heeeee. It's a good 2.5 hours work post ride, but I have to do that properly otherwise the poor horses will get cramps, swelling and be so uncomfortable. I like the solitude of doing the work. I just haven't done manual work for a while. The muscles ache in places that no pilates stretches could hope to achieve.

I've always lived in tiny flats. While I love visiting houses and enjoy the expansive space and all the opportunities it has to offer, I balk at the idea of living in one. There is simply too much cleaning and tidying-up to do even with hired help. But that quality of life, is unbeatable. The Aunts walked into our tiny city flat and nearly fainted away. They said that they couldn't even fit through the door or have 2 of them in the kitchen at the same time. What nonsense. But yes, the size of our tiny flat isn't even the size of one of their drawing rooms.

Christmas At Aunt E's

We were really excited to head to Aunt E's again with Christmas presents in tow and plenty of wishes from the rest of the family.

Aunt E sternly told us she would cook. Over the phone, we could imagine her wagging her finger along with her line of "Do not buy so much food."

We didn't. Since it was to be a Chinese meal (my one and only concession for an occasion of Chinese food in London), we trekked to the Chinatown shops (which would be the only eateries open during this period) and tapau-ed braised beancurd, stir-fry choi sum and some of Aunt E's favorite char siew/siew yoke sliced very thinly.

She cooked up a huge pot of chicken curry. I was thrilled that she made basmati rice to go with it. Yummy. I like curry with basmati. Obviously I quietly skipped the chicken. The man ate up my share. I drizzled plenty of curry over the rice. I've no idea what sort of potatoes Aunt E used. But those potatoes were tasty!

Somehow, she decided to make apple crumble. APPLE!!! CRUMBLE! Omigaawwd. My favorite sort of dessert!!! I helped her stir the custard on the stove before serving the little bowls of goodness. The apples were picked from her garden in autumn. Tart and sweet at the same time, dessert was nothing short of divine.

I ate SO MUCH. How could I stinge on the basmati when there's curry?!! So loaded with carbs that after dessert, I sank into the sofa and fell asleep next to the heater. Aunt E's homecooked meal and hospitality are among the best gifts I've received this season.

Music At Christmas

Christmas evenings are to be filled with warm light, a soft glow from the fireplace, twinkling Christmas trees and lovely carols and music. No snow here, just ice and very very low temperatures.

There's an ancient piano standing in the parlor. It's been there for ages and have seen many little children hit their first notes on its keys. I opened it and tinkered a little. I'm so bad at sightreading that I dumped the sonatas of Schmann, Schubert and Mozart to play children pieces. I absolutely cannot do classical pieces. Not to mention that the nails are really too long to be effective in running the notes.

I've got zero talent for the piano. Obviously, I don't even know how to play Christmas carols on the piano. I'd have to improvise and figure out the notes. Not very fun at all. I no like. After a while, I abandoned the kiddy sounds *shudder* for contemporary pieces. Think Beverly Craven's Promise Me. I really like the music, not so much of its lyrics. I feel so much more for contemporary pieces. To me, those are so much easier to play, even with 5 flats or 5 sharps. Not Christmassy at all, but still very nice!

The man has his little travel guitar of course! With mini speakers and an amp, he could play anything but ummm....Christmas carols. Heh. Not very helpful there.

No, we cannot do a strange duet of mixed instruments. I cannot count or listen to his strange beats and rhthym. HEEEEEE.

Wontons For Christmas!!!

Forget the turkey, I'm so not a fan of fowl. In addition to the traditional meats, there is a wide selection of food on the dinner table.

My eyes lit up at the huge pot on the stove. That could only mean one thing- soup! Hot soup! What a wonderful idea, always, during winter. I think I'd be quite happy drinking soup all day. If I'm to stay here for the whole winter, out of pure necessity, I might actually get my lazy ass off the sofa and learn how to brew a pot of Chinese soup.

Inside are wontons! I'll have one or two, but I don't really eat wontons either. I always picked them out from the soups. So I ate one and palmed off the rest to the man. But I love the soup and the taste of it. I had two huge bowls.

Tis fun that we've piping hot wonton soup for Christmas. :)

Merry Christmas!!!

"It is Christmas in the heart that puts Christmas in the air." ~W.T. Ellis

Breakfast At Paul

After all this time, the man doesn't know where the outlets of Paul are in London. Tsk.

From the flat, there're so many outlets within walking distance for his pick. Of course on his day off, I've to drag him to breakfast at Paul.

I really like eggs for breakfast. So I had this yummy omelette that contained everything- mushrooms, ham, bacon and Emmental. The man is crazy about eggs too. He had a Croque Madame, which is essentially toast with ham, cheese and bechamel topped with Emmental and fried eggs. Food names just sound so romantic in French. £8 per item for breakfast is definitely cheaper than Hediard at home. At least a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice doesn't cost the earth.

But we ain't romantic lah. We definitely don't gaze at each other starry-eyed over meals. We don't do that! The man was very conscientiously flipping through The Big Issue (We quite like the content compared to those in 8Days) and exclaiming about The Pavement re-forming. I, on the other hand, was busy scribbling notes about the food, cafe and watnots into my pink journal with the pink pen.

Getting Dressed

Tumbling out of bed and getting dressed in the mornings require so much work. In the tropics, all I need is 20 minutes to shower, paint the face and get out of the flat.

In wintry London, I need a good hour before the body is prepped to face the blustery morning. There're so many steps- moisturizing, blowing dry the hair thoroughly, pulling on thermals, tights and watnots. Plus think of what matches. Thank goodness my entire wardrobe is black- so it isn't too troublesome.

The good thing is, I get to stay in the same clothes all day. My day dresses can usually take me through the night with just a change of flat boots to stilettos and totes to clutches. Unless I'm going to a grungy gig or seriously lovely private club, then I'd have to rethink the wardrobe.

Despite being promised a plate of delicious £14 poached (rare breed hen's) eggs, I still grumble about getting out in the mornings from the toasty flat to the cold streets. Yes, even though I think 2°C is warm nowadays. (It could have plunged to the minus something temperatures!) It's kinda dark at 8am still. I do like sunshine. A pity London only has 2 good hours of it this month on the daily average.

That said, I really really love my boots and wool coats. They go a long way in keeping me warm striding along the streets!

Saying Hello!

I've mailed out the last set of postcards. I doubt it'll reach anyone by 31 December 2009. The mailmen have gone on holidays till next year. The last day for posting parcels was sometime last week. Heh. With all transport chaos in Britain, I don't think anyone's going to get any parcels or letters proper till February at least!

Who cares! As long as they get to the recipients at some point in early 2010. The man didn't bother with postcards. BOYS. Tsk tsk. He prefers sending e-greetings or writing long emails.

The museums and bookstores have an amazing selection of chic/interesting/pretty/avant garde postcards. You name it, they have it, depending on which theme you want. I love paper and browsing through racks of cards. It's just fun for me to buy postcards, write silly thoughts and send them off to the friends. I didn't manage to stick clear tape over the addresses. Hope that in the rain and snow, the ink won't smudge too badly.

Few people send postcards nowadays. I just want to keep that tradition alive. Otherwise, in a couple of years, I'd have forgotten how to use my fingers to write.

Lantana's Baked Eggs

After so many times, I'm finally hungry enough to order the much raved about baked eggs at Lantana Cafe. If you love eggs and like 'em kinda runny, these are like, the best homestyle baked eggs ever.

Lantana Cafe won Time Out's 'Best New Cafe 2009'. Since then, many have dissed its service and waiting time for food and drinks. The cafe's probably under-eqipped to handle the sudden influx of new customers I suppose. However, all the time when I was there, service was really really prompt. I had no problems with my food or drinks.

But yes, if you're in a rush, don't order the baked eggs. Mine took 25 minutes to arrive. But I expected the wait and I wasn't in a hurry. The second time I ordered baked eggs, it was near the end of breakfast at about 11.28am or so- the baked eggs arrived on my table in 15 minutes. So I've absolutely no issue with waiting time. The baked eggs were done in a tomato-y chipotle sauce. There're little squares of chorizo, little bits of spinach and mushrooms in there. Scooping hot baked eggs away from the cold is the nicest thing ever.

The one thing that I forgot is that superduper light and tasty crème fraîche. Yes, I know what goes into making it. The point is, I finished ALL of it, both times. :(

At The Mall

Put me in Selfridges and where do I go to- the basement! I've no interest in its shoes or clothes or whatever. It's interesting, but not totally exciting. I went straight to the music section to grab my Underworld Trilogy in blu-ray! I could order it online. But what's the fun? I wnat to browse and get other stuff.

Those lousy mousey vampires in Twilight-New Moon-and whatever else should really learn to look more credible. The vampires in Underworld are so much for 'real' and charisma. They invoke fear and a morbid admiration. Plus the lycans look so much better than those puny werewolves. Okay, it's obvious I'm so not a fan of Edward Cullen or Jacob whatszisname.

That aside, I lingered really long by the side of this Leica Digilux 4. It's quite a lovely baby and I'm still thinking about having it, except that my GrD is working perfectly fine and I really really really don't need another camera. :'(

Thoughts Before Christmas

While the man is hard at work, I'm also not exactly skiving! The office is crazy busy this month and I really shouldn't be on this vacation. But I need to figure out some stuff and answer my own questions. Importantly, I've got one hell of a trooper colleague shouldering the burden all on her own, that's why things are humming along fine. So while I'm going to be inundated with work when I get back, it's not overly worrying.

Before Christmas comes, today, I've to make my decision on whether I come to London again with 10 cartons or so for the academic year in 2011/2012. This has essentially been a reccee trip. Exploring the city has never felt so urgent. I don't view London with the eye of a tourist on this trip. I've been viewing it with an eye of a resident.

A reccee trip is a great way to to consider my options of living in London. I mean, I've searched out and tried nail parlors, spas, hair salons; trawled the net (not difficult) for good eats, shortest routes to destinations, friends' residences, etc. Sound so fluffy hor?

It's good to know that in the face of so many options and little worries to consider, I've made my decision with total awareness and clarity of mind.

It's with much regret that I say no to London, in spite of the lengthy administrative process I went through filling up the applications; eventually receiving the offers and arranging the meetings with the faculties. I like the discussions which pointed me to the modules that would have been a positive sort of different from the expected. (One university rejected me though! How can?!) It'd have been a good experience studying in UK universities.

I like the food here. The music scene is fabulous. London is a rather liveable city. Still, I've to decline. No, it's not the dreary weather that I'm such a wuss about. Heh. It's really not that cold. Like I said, NYC is a better fit for me. It's just that if I make a conscious choice to relocate to study, it has to be in the city across the Atlantic. :)

With the weight of this decision off my mind, I can properly enjoy the rest of the time I have in the city.

Macarons From Pierre Hermé

Luckily we didn't try to hop over to Paris via rail. We all know how inconvenient travelling in winter is. Eurostar is completely crippled this week.

Thank goodness the friends made a decision not to travel by rail from Paris and took an Air France flight instead. No disruptions. They arrived in London safely. Now, let's hope the other set of friends have flown off from New York City despite the snow storm and are safely mid-air on a Singapore Airlines plane.

Look what princely gift the friends brought us. Boxes and boxes of delightful macarons from Pierre Hermé. Before I could take a proper photo, the man swooped in to steal the truffle macaron. It's sweet, nutty and exquisite all at once. One doesn't usually associate truffles in a macaron. But it works! Truffles!

The man has decided that he favors Pierre Hermé over Ladurée simply because the former is 'crunchier'. Importantly, macarons from Pierre Hermé aren't as sweet as those from Ladurée; so the flavors come out stronger. While I don't mind trying other flavors (the blueberry-chocolate combination works great), I'm really fond of the rose. MmmmMMMmmmm. I can now tell what makes a good rose macaron. :)

Macarons From Paul

I tell you, it's all because of the man, I've been macaron-ed out on this trip. I don't even want to look at another macaron again for a long long time. Not a day has passed without a macaron ingested.

The man has this incredibly sweet tooth. I don't care for desserts, but he does. He goes crazy over them. You could probably bribe him with a fantastically done dessert of any sort. He doesn't even have a favorite dessert. I know he'll pick the strangest sounding dessert on the menu. (Like the way he picks his starters and mains) He says it's hard to pick a favorite. DOH.

At Paul, for macarons, they only do chocolate, vanilla and pistachio. The menu stated a coffee flavor, but we were told it wasn't available that day. Oh well. Chocolate and vanilla it would be.

We had the giant macarons that go for £3.40 a piece. Again, these are uniquely Paul. They're not as sweet as the melt-in-your-mouth ones from Ladurée. They're chewy and subtle in flavor. Not too bad at all. They've got mini macarons too. Well, they termed it mini, but it's really just slightly smaller than the usual size from Ladurée and Pierre Hermé.

However, imho, Paul's better in its breads, breakfasts, cooked food. In terms of dessert, it's especially good for its cakes, crumbles and tarts. They use good coffee beans too, except that their flat white comes strangely as black coffee with the milk at the side.

Meeting The Friends

I've been in quite a rush to catch up with all the friends before they go away for their Christmas holidays.

We usually don't do evenings as that's considered intrusive to everyone's daily schedules. We're kinda doing the play by ear thingy, which always works for us. Plus this is Christmas. There're plenty to do in the evenings besides running errands. Meeting for lunches or teas is the perfect timing for all of us

Since I always seem to be needing boxes of macarons and they work in town, we kept meeting for lunch at the very convenient Ladurée Cafe at Harrods.

The cafe serves good teas and decent food. It's a very pretty place. But I'm not too enamored with Harrods, not when I know how much they mark up the items on the shelves. Generally, I'm not too hot about hanging out at shopping malls unless I've specific things to buy. The section that really tickles my fancy is the Food Hall. That is an amazing walk of smells and colors.

I'm very glad to be able to chat and catch up with the friends. We've known one another for a long time now. They make London a friendlier place for me. I'm so well taken care of that it feels almost like coming home, except that as a city, I somehow prefer NYC to London. Yes, even though NYC has the dreaded snow and minus-something temperatures, it's somehow a better fit for me. :)

Owls!

Never really noticed that there're owl designs of anything anywhere till suntaneye mentioned owls. Then suddenly, I see 'em popping up everywhere! Don't know why I only pay attention to owl designs now.

I see owls in soft toys, bed linen, belt buckles, keychains and everything. Walked by a store and thought the bookbags are the cutest things on the shelves!

I've bought many book bags. Hmmm. Not too sure what I'd do with all of them. I use them for sure, but how many can I use?! Many will be used to 'wrap' and contain presents instead of actually paper-wrapping them. It's probably more of the idea of using bookbags instead of ugly plastic bags, I suspect. Of course the pretty designs make them really attractive.

Some stores do impose a charge of 5pence per plastic bag to dissuade customers from using them. It's easier for me to walk around town with an eco bag/book bag in the big bag rather than plastic bags which cut into my palms. Each of my bags is stashed with another foldaway inside, so no biggie.

By The Witches' Cauldron

Each time I wander through the National Gallery, a different painting would leave its mark on my soul long after I leave. The last round, I was enthralled by Joachim Beuckelaer's "The Four Elements". This time, I'm fascinated by Salvator Rosa's "Witches At Their Incantations". It's by no means a happy painting. Luckily the gallery shop has got postcards of this painting for me to have as a keepsake.

Salvator Rosa is said to be a tempestuous artist. Done in his fiery Baroque style, It's got naked (not pretty like Willow in Buffy) witches (or crones if you will) doing macabre activities and grotesque creatures milling around. All his painting of witches are very dramatic and well, almost gothic.

But who's to say these aren't reflections of actual human thoughts, (mis) deeds and actions? Look closer and the painting seems to reflect the politicking, murders, backstabbing, jealousy, petty theft, facebook and online stalking, hate crimes, etc and all that is wrong with our society. Peer at the grim background- that could fast become reality if we don't take care of the environment and the earth we step on. In a world to be, we might not see patches of green anymore.

One other painting also spoke to me. It's the one hanging next to Witches. It's titled "Landscape with Mercury and the Dishonest Woodman". The landscape is simple and complex all at the same time. Its complexity belies the maturity of Salvator Rosa's brush strokes. Its simplicity lies in the meaning of the painting. Aesop's Fables are for us to remind ourselves about the basic morals of life and to tell children stories that they may remember to do things right. Today, I re-read the fable of Mercury and the Woodman. That struck a note with me.

I love these afternoons at the museums and galleries. Food for the soul indeed.

A Gucci

Instead of asking the concierge to fulfil all the friends' shopping list/s and DHL to take the cartons home, there're a couple of items on some people's shopping lists that I prefer to personally shop for.

3 girlfriends wanted bags from Gucci. On a day I had the driver with me, I dutifully trotted downtown to Sloane Street check out the range.

So I sorted out the girlfriends' stuff rather quickly. They were precise. While browsing around, one bag caught my eye. I've never owned any Gucci bag. However, I really don't need any more bags. Still, against my better judgment, I bought one.

Since I bought so many bags, the sales executives allowed photos of my purchases and also of the shelves the display pieces were sitting on. I wanted to take photos of the bags to 'report' to the girlfriends. Nobody told me that photography wasn't permitted. They allowed me to position my camera to take all the angles that I wanted. Though they told somebody else off for trying to take photos at the same time as I did. Heh. They also asked if all Singaporean girls like taking photos so much. Oh dear. I suppose! We've probably surpassed the Japanese in this aspect.

Luckily when I look at my newly bought Gucci again, I don't regret the purchase, yet. Whew. I'll keep it in its original packaging. Let's see if I feel the same when I get back to Singapore. Otherwise, I'd have to get rid of (sell) it.

In the photo below, no prizes for guessing which bag caught my eye.

At Aunt E's

As fun as it is trudging the streets and meandering through the tube stations, we couldn't just hang out in the cold all day. I don't like the cold at all.

Off we went to visit Aunt E. It was very pleasant to spend a lively afternoon at Aunt E's.

Aunt E was very naughty. Despite us telling her that we would get lunch, she still cooked a steaming pot of Chinese soup- fishballs, water cress, carrots and corn. Our hearts and stomachs were completely warmed by the hot soup.

Have I mentioned that Aunt E is an excellent baker? She has made her Christmas fruit cakes. She is waiting for the cakes to settle and will sort out decorating the cakes next week for lunch and dinner on Christmas Day. For our afternoon nibbles, she made a fruit salad and a version of the classic Victoria sandwich. As simple and yummy this cake is, I'm sure it took tremendous effort for her to do this.

Time passes by too fast when we're enjoying the moments. I savored every moment and still, all too soon, it was time to make our way back to the city.

Can't wait to see Aunt E again soon.

Snow In London

Snow is NOT romantic. I hate snow. I especially hate snow/sleet in my eyes. So I've been damn loser- carrying a brolly each time the snow flakes fly. It doesn't really help though. The wind blows in all directions and my coat still gets a little wet. But at least the brolly keeps the icy bits out of my eyes.

In the morning, the cars parked on the streets indicate how heavy the snowfall in the night has been. Sleet, really. I can't complain. There's only like 1mm of snow (slush) in the city. East and North London have been hit quite badly by the snow. They get up to 20 cm of snow. Schools, offices, Luton and Gatwick have been closed. It's definitely not winter wonderland there. With cars not exactly having snow tires, plenty of accidents have occurred on the road.

Kudos to the road workers who work so hard to keep the tube, rail and main roads in operation. Come dead winter, I hope London won't be crippled like it was in February 2009.

The city central isn't too bad. (Not when compared to friends in other countries who're getting 30.5cm to 50cm of snowfall overnight.) The tube and rail services might be disrupted if there's heavy snowfall. Hopefully it doesn't come down to that this December.

Very Heated

Living in the tropics meant that a hair-dryer is quite unneccesary. I can't be bothered to use one. When I wore my hair long and want it blown dry nicely, the hair salon will do the job. While there's a hair-dryer lying around the room, the girlfriends definitely put it to better use.

Now that the hair's a bob, the hair-dryer at home is turned on daily. I can't have it sticking out and looking limp! The hair-dryer curls it in properly. Nights don't matter. A bob dries really fast in the heat. I view the hair-dryer as a troublesome appliance.

It's been a long time since I've gone to anywhere cold. This year, I've hit quite a number of major cities in all stages of winter. By now, in wintry London, my perception of the hair-dryer has been completely altered. The habit of showering in the morning and at night meant that if I don't dry the hair, I'll have to go out with wet hair or sleep with wet hair. In this frosty weather, I'd get a head cold and migraine! So now, I view the hair-dryer as an absolutely essential tool to aid my feeling of well-being, and, heh, warmth.

I proclaim the humble hair-dryer my best friend.

(Oh, and the heated towel rails, massage/facial bed, footpads and sleeping socks too.)

To The Temple

On a bitterly cold day, we really didn't want to hang out in the open. Cold days are great for sleeping in late and have long lunches. The man was all snug and warm in the office till it was time to grab the tube and meet me for lunch. It's ironic how we never meet for lunch on a workday in Singapore, but we've quite a bit of time to grab a bite in London.

We went off to have lunch with the family at the Temple (Middle and Inner).

While waiting for them to come down from their offices, we strolled around the charming grounds. It was quiet and lovely. I think many people are away for the Christmas holidays already, except for a few who are still stuck at work ploughing through a mountain of files.

We took a peek in the heavily restored 12th century Temple Church too. It was breathtaking. As like all old stately churches, you could feel the pervasive sense of calm emanating from its stones (cement more likely).

Then it was time for lunch and more conversation at the very historic and very proper Middle Temple Hall. We dumped the fish and chips for a traditional Christmas lunch of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding (tasty tasty bread really!) and wine!