Checking Out The Fish

At Tatsuya, the one cooked dish we all love is the fish, be it steamed or grilled. The whole fish or fishhead is always a winner. The friends could polish off a whole fish very fast. Tonight, when the cherry salmon was placed in front of us, all conversation ceased and there was intense concentration on matter of picking the flesh off the bones.

In a matter of minutes, the friends cleaned out their cherry salmon. When I was done with mine, it wasn't exactly 'done', not by the friends' definition. These people are GOOD. There was virtually zero flesh left on their fish. They shrieked in horror at my wastage. Apparently, there were lots left to eat. But I dunno how to scrape off the flesh at this stage! No one would share my saliva except the man. So we swopped plates. He did justice to the existence and death of the poor little fish.

The servers shook their heads at my inept treatment of the fish. They lamented that all these years of eating fish and I hadn't learnt how to treat it properly. Ah well, this ain't a yellowtail head! That I can do very well! Neither have I learnt how to appreciate sake beyond drinking what the servers put on my table. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm drinking aside from the fact that it's alcoholic.

Passover Seder and A Birthday

It was a unanimous choice to head to Otto Ristorante in honor of the man's birthday. (Thanks for all the wishes!) The poor boy spent it at work. We picked him up at the office only at 8pm.

There's something comforting about eating at our favorite restaurant after a long day. This is a restaurant that doesn't raise eyebrows at our numerous and sometimes peculiar requests.

The man's birthday fell exactly on Passover. We had dinner with the family. So eating out was a little dicey and challenging for the restaurant in question. But Otto, really, managed it brilliantly. They acceded to all our requests with nary a complaint and all smiles from the servers.

We of course, didn't drink pure grape juice. We had wine. We ummm....drank more than 4 cups of wine. :p But it was just half a bottle, not that much! Food was excellent. It was a wonderful evening.

So quietly, the man turned 35. He doesn't really care about the bit about age because he thinks he's still 25. He fiercely fights against being sucked into the corporate grind. He stands up for his beliefs and has pursued many passions to the fullest, with few regrets to speak of. I suppose, this defines the third decade of his life. A toast is definitely in order. To the next exciting half of his 30s then.

Porridge For Dinner

With the man's schedule uncertain for the day, I didn't bother to make grand plans to celebrate his birthday. This weekend has been filled with music and that made him really happy. I wasn't even sure if he would make it for any sort of decent dinner. But he managed to come home before the sun set. How nice.

Since neither of us were very hungry and fancied only a light bite, for a lark, we veered away from our usual haunts and headed to that porridge place in Chinatown. We hop there once in a couple of months. I've never bothered to remember the address or even the name of the corner kopitiam. But tonight, because I was snapping a quick photo, I finally learnt that the name of the shop is Tiong Shian Porridge Centre.

Each time we're here, it's like this cultural immersion hour. Tonight, we were absolutely fascinated by the live karaoke singing and dancing across the road. We weren't exactly sure if it was busking, but it was entertainment alright. A crowd gathered to watch.

Obviously the man wouldn't be able to utter a proper sentence intelligible enough to order anything at the counter. So it always has to be me. Bleah. He didn't want frog legs tonight. He wanted the pork liver in claypot fried with dark sauce and dried chilli. He was very tickled with the pieces of pork liver. Eeeeeps. The gravy was nice, but not the pieces of liver!! Me no like liver. I liked my plain porridge with century eggs.

As we walked back to the car, there was this brightly lit durian stall at the side. He slyly asked if I wanted to complete the immersion hour with durians. Oh gross! I very quickly ran away in the opposite direction. Ha. We headed off to have ice-cream for dessert instead.

That's It For Dive Trips

After a quick session at the pulmonologist, I didn't feel like heading back to be all cooped up in the office. So I wandered down the road to Tanglin Mall to run some errands. I picked up some basic tees and pants from British India, stocked up on some stuff at Brown Rice Paradise.

I was all ready for some food when I saw Wallaroo hats hanging off the racks. Since I wouldn't be diving much from now on and would have to stick my ass to the boat or the beach, a hat would be a very good accessory for island holidays. So I bought 2. These must be my saddest purchases ever. It meant I was no longer in denial.

Then I wandered into Hediard for lunch. The tart glass of orange juice lifted the spirits. It was a bright sunny day. I've had wonderful vacations spent diving in the islands of Southeast Asia, Australia, Japan, Maldives, Seychelles and Montego Bay. It's been 15 years of constant peeking into the mysterious and rich marine life in the seas and oceans.

I've been good all of 2009 and obeyed the doctor's advice. It's not that sad that I can't really dive anymore. I kinda still can, but only leisurely and at a most uninteresting depth. These aren't the dives I want to do. :( Knowing how obstinate and insistent I am about the sort of dives I want to do, and the risks I would take, the pulmonologist has refused me the medical clearance and peace of mind I've demanded.

I've always held out hope that it's a hiatus and I can get back to doing what I love. But my lungs can't withstand what I do. So I guess, the compromise is to hold on to, 15 good years of memories and stories, and perhaps in another 2 years or so, I might be able to make just a few more.

Livonia 2010

Looking good, sounding fabulous (better than before!) and rocking out for sure.

Guys, be glad I didn't dig up your old photos (those decades' ago flower-print shirts and all....) and put them side by side. :p

Loot

As fond as I am of clothing in black, I don't have many bags in that boring tone. Black is either chic or depressing, depending on which view you hold. I like to think that black is dependable and chic. :p Somehow, I'm more open to the idea of having bags in different colors. A cheerful bag brightens my usually sombre outfits.

Some of us call this loot. It doesn't matter if the bag has been bought in Singapore, London or Paris. The emphasis is on procuring the bag in that particular color we've fallen in love with. Colors keep us going. Why else would we stay interested in the same design? Certain colors are just beautiful.

About this bag. It has always been about the craftsmanship and simplicity, I guess. It's rather roomy and practical. Of course, there is the smell of new leather that is absolutely intoxicating. I'm biased. I think that this color goes best with a white tee, jeans and a whole lot of bling.

Girls' Night Out

We wanted a place away from town, so we headed to Soprano (sister restaurant of Donna Carmela at Pasir Panjang, not exactly the one at Greenwood) at Portsdown Road. I like the area because it makes me feel like I'm out of Singapore.

Now, if you're headed to these restaurants, please make sure you're not solely there for the food. There has to be a stronger reason, like a group dinner, convenient meal to fill the stomach, etc. There is no point in dissecting the food or review it. Not to me, anyway. I'm very clear that the whole point to dinner was really, to catch up with the girlfriends.

It's been a while since we sat down properly for a chat, and that took precedence over everything else. I loved that. Of course the wine was pretty good and made for a leisurely dinner too. Food at Soprano can be rather hit and miss, but tonight, they did our pasta decently. Whew. I definitely over-ate.

The night was still young, so we decided to check out Dempsey. I didn't care which bar we ended up at. One bar was the same as the other. We stopped at CM-PB for more light bites and drinks. The sugar stick in my mojito was a very classy touch. CM-PB did quite an okay mix, except that the rum used was rough and sharp. Ah well, few bars would use Angostura!

When we left, the Dempsey Hill area was just waking up, teeming with humans and cars. How on earth do these people look so fresh at this hour?! Well, it's not very late, but considering I've been awake since 7am, I do need some sleep right about now! Definitely can't do the drink-till-3am thingy anymore!

What Are We Reading?

There was a check to see how many of us in the office had completed the H1N1 vaccination as we would be able to claim it. So I replied.

From: imp Sent: Thursday, 25 March, 2010 5:29 PM
To: Person-in-Charge Subject: Done: H1N1 Vaccination Status as at 31 Mar 2010

Done, but not claiming from the office as mine was completed in end Oct 09, way before the advisory was sent out.

From: Person-in-Charge Sent: Thursday, 25 March, 2010 5:47 PM
To: imp Subject: RE: H1N1 Vaccination Status as at 31 Mar 2010

Thanks, imp. We cannot claim for vaccinations done before the advisory. Sorry.

From: imp Sent: Friday, 26 March, 2010 9:56 AM
To: Person-in-Charge Subject: Done: H1N1 Vaccination Status as at 31 Mar 2010

Like I said, I never intended to claim for it anyway, before or after the advisory. No issues.

I can't stop rolling my eyes. What is wrong with all these people? What is registering in their brains when they read their emails? Is it me? Should I have been clearer and write in a way that assumes the other party knows nothing and everything ought to be spelt out? Or are we on 2 starkly different schools of thought?

Goto Japanese Restaurant

Sushi and sashimi at Tatsuya, which is the ultimate comfort food for me. As a result, I don't visit Goto as often as I'd have liked because it serves a traditional kaiseki (懐石料理), which is always a little too much food for the stomach. I visit whenever I've friends to palm off bits to or on days when I expect to be particularly hungry.

Also, Goto inspires this feeling of zen and calm. I don't like having to rush there straight from the office. I prefer to head home to change into casuals before sitting down to a multi-course dinner with good sake and fine tea. Tonight, I've the luxury to have a hot shower (plus slather a yummy exfoliator) and change out of the work clothes before dinner.

It's been 2 years and the food at Goto is still consistent, dependable and beautiful, teasing out a complete umami. Every bit of it. Nothing is overcooked and every effort is made to highlight the natural taste of each item on the menu. We're now able to identify Chef Goto Hisao's preference and trademark ingredients in his creations. Now, I'm going to refer you to one of my favorite blogs and to the artistry of the author's words about the food at Goto. ice, you'll keel over at that lovely pumpkin ice-cream drizzled with caramel sauce. The natural bits of pumpkin were so good till I didn't really care for the caramel sauce.

I do have to remind the restaurant that I prefer no meat and no sharks' fin. Otherwise, my kaiseki meal wouldn't be entirely pleasurable. The man, on the other hand, absolutely appreciated the Miyazaki Wagyu. My curiosity about sake has been recently awakened, I'm conscious of how the different grades of sake vary, and how it should complement a meal.

As always, meals at Goto can only be described with one word- delicate. There's nothing more satisfying than tucking into a meal lovingly put together by a chef who understands how each flavor and texture are carefully meshed together in a harmonious presentation to ensure a subtle and elegant dining experience.

GOTO Japanese Restaurant
14 Ann Siang Road #01-01 Singapore 069694
T: +65 6438 1553 (Reservations are a must)
Email: goto.japanese@gmail.com (Closed on Sundays and Mondays)
Only kaiseki sets served- Lunch at S$68++ per set; Dinner at either S$180++ or S$280++ per set.

Single Malts

I shamelessly tagged along with the girlfriend to a social event simply because it touted itself as a whisky tasting session. The organizers were all mysterious and kept the offerings a secret. Ah well. While it could be anything, it wasn't difficult to discern that whatever on the table that evening would be something obscure, young and not too complex. I could even guess the supplier of the single malts. Not too difficult putting two and two together.

So I was right. While they were indeed bottles that weren't exactly in the market, they weren't memorable. They're independent bottlings which aren't premium vintages. The 46% ABV doesn't impress, not when I'm rather familiar with the Port Charlottes. It's never about the ABV anyway. To be fair, I've got certain preferences for my single malts. I like them older and more complex, rather than young and sharp. There were 6 bottles for tasting. I was bored by the fourth. A pity that the distributor didn't bring its ummm....premium Scotch (budget, I presume) and Tullibardine. I've a fondness for the Tullibardine 1988.

The only bottling that sorta went down alright was the Ben Nevis 10 y.o in a port wood finish. It was rather enjoyable and rounded off with more flavors than expected of a bottling in its year. Well, it's a Highland single malt. I expect no less from the region. Well, I'm very partial towards port wood finishes compared to sherry or bourbon. So I'm not exactly objective when it comes to defending my preference for this particular bottle at the tasting.

(Yes, I'm being deliberately ambiguous about details.)

Ahhh, my only reasons for turning up at this social event was pure curiosity for the whisky. There was another marketing point to the event, which I didn't quite bother with. I'm happy with brochures, videos and online materials. And of course, my industry isn't the firm's target audience. We'll never be able to justify that sort of expenditure. For a teeny second there, I missed the large budgets given in the previous industry. The 'event' budget we now have is practically embarrassing, leaving me with no leverage or negotiating power with suppliers.

But really, I'm reminded of why I stay away from social events because I bloody hate schmoozing. There're so many retorts in my head that can't be uttered aloud, especially when it comes to a pet topic, say, single malts, because in essence, this is and also isn't a whisky tasting session.

Nevertheless, there was something learnt from the 1.5 hours. Knowing more about single malts or how they tasted is always a good thing. Still, I decided to give the bottles from Speyside a miss. Instead of heading off to have nicer (by my definition) single malts, the girlfriend and I went off for some damn good glasses of Bloody Mary.

On The Way Home

(Bollicine closed in 2011 and has been taken over by Limoncello)

We veered away from the usual dinner venues to avoid the usual madness that is known as Restaurant Week. We hopped into this rather welcoming eatery that didn't seem to require any reservations.

Little did we know that the newish Bollicine Restaurant was also part of the list for Restaurant Week. Tonight, they weren't full. Good for us. We just wanted an easy dinner. It was only after we sat down that we realized that the restaurant belongs to this whole chain of delis that we frequent to top up on groceries.

The starter of our usual parma ham, rocket and mozzarella was a pleasant surprise. It was a generous portion with beautifully sweet tomatoes still on the vine. After the antipasti, the man and I were too full to stomach a pizza and a pasta. We ended up having the pizza to-go. We ate up the linguine with prawns though.

The food didn't impress. But it's of a decent standard at a very reasonable price. It's a convenient dining venue on easy nights out, or for large groups with a budget. People who wouldn't pay S$18 for Big D's anchovy pasta at the kopitiam would pay S$20 for a plate of pasta at Bollicine simply because the latter provided a nicer ambience.

It's like, if you don't want to fuss with cooking, you'd just hop into Bollicine. If you're a good cook and can be bothered to whip out the pots, you'd probably prefer to grab the ingredients from the chain's Quattro Stagioni delis at Greenwood, Liang Court Shopping Centre (now closed as of August 2010) and United Square to cook your own Italian meal.

Bollicine Restaurant

95 Robertson Quay

#01-19 The Rivergate S238256

T: +65 6509 8509 F: +65 6509 9932

For Snow Crabs

The friends went to Tokyo and of course, lugged back a suitcase full of food, including frozen snow crabs. They had plenty for us and hollered for a gathering.

The man excitedly planned the dinner menu around the sweet snow crab meat. He declared he wasn't going to pull out any stops in the kitchen and let the crab/s speak for themselves.

The man made this harissa mayonnaise dip for the crab. (Use Japanese mayo, not our usual Hellmann's) There was an appetizer of Japanese cold tofu with a mix of ponzu and soba-tsuyu topped with grated ginger, spring onions and bonita flakes. Now, I'm not big on crabs, but I sing a different tune for the snow crab. It's so sweet and tasty. We had it the best way- steamed. Tonight, I preferred dipping it in the tofu 'sauce' rather than the harissa mayo dip because the latter was a tad heavy.

We were most gleeful that the girlfriend ate up most of the mentaiko pasta. The man went to grab fresh mentaiko with her in mind. The pasta wasn't just to complement the crabs, it was specially cooked for her because he knew how much she loved it. But he didn't do an egg for it, just to keep the cholestrol level sane.

Importantly, he wanted to use the bottles of 柱侯酱 (zhu hou sauce) that he now has, to 'perfect' his Chinese-style braised beef brisket with daikon. He braved the morning rains to grab a truckload of beef from Tekka Market. He describes this sauce as sharp, like hoi sin sauce with marmite or bovril added to it. He has declared that now he knew what the taste is, he would be able to tweak further recipes by using hoi sin sauce, but with bovril and more garlic, or whatever. Everyone ignored the accompanying Japanese white rice and went for the brown rice instead. Heh.

At our dinner table, no meal is complete without an alcoholic drink. The drink in vogue with us is the mojito. The man makes a mean one. We like using a good quality Angostura rum because that brings out the full flavor of the mojito instead of the crass taste one gets at the bars.

Restaurant Ember

Reminded by ice about an almost-forgotten joint, I finally swung around to good old Ember to say hello to the cute bear, and of course to fill the stomach this evening. ice has got nicer day shots and the most eloquent descriptions of the food on her blog. The friends have easy access to Ember at lunch, whereas I don't have the luxury of simply popping by and has to stick to dinner.

I'm so glad tonight that someone came up with the brilliant idea of eating at Ember.

We shared EVERYTHING on the menu. Okay, not so much of the mains. We didn't exactly bother with the mains except for a fish and meat. We ordered almost all the appetizers. There was this ox tongue salad that the man really loved. (Which reminds him that he has a frozen tongue to cure and cook.) The Iberico ham with watermelon and salad and the frog legs caught everyone's attention.

I didn't have time to go through all of twitterverse and fb today. At dinner, I could ask properly why and how Erlend Øye was such a prick at the gig last night. Opinions were divided if he was disrespectful in his tone towards the recently deceased Alex Chilton. I wasn't at the gig, so it could be just Erlend Øye being reticent in his 'grief' for the 'Big Star', star. However, the one thing that left a sour taste in many's mouths were his offhanded remarks about the concert-goers' nationalities as an indication of being able to afford gig tickets. Apparently he was being racist and cracked some uncalled for not-funny wisecrack about how Filippinos could afford front row seats and the Indonesians were stuck at the back.

Ah, Kings of Convenience, I'm glad I didn't bother to make time for you this March. In fact, I'm striking you out on my list of favorite bands.

Then we talked about how Placebo has a new drummer (Steve Forrest) who's really quite awesome. The band had rearranged its songs. No wonder I thought Placebo sounded quite good live last night, rather different from the Placebo I know.

Back at the business of demolishing food, I really wanted to order a second helping for the cold angel hair with kombu and shredded abalone and the bamboo clams. But I decided to bide my time till after dessert. Dessert always sews up the stomach. Yes, we made it to dessert and shared the chocolate cake thingy and a yummilicious 40-minute-to-prep apple tart.

Ember

50 Keong Saik Road, Hotel 1929

Singapore 089154

T: +65 6347 1928

Si Bon

Dinner was an exquisite 15-course kushiage at Si Bon.

A refreshing change to dine in a restaurant that only has 12 seats available at the counter. It more or less ensured a civilized dining experience. It's housed in a lovely compound that used to be a chapel in the colonial times. The grounds and entrance gave it an ambience reminiscent of Kyoto restaurants.

The batter is light and refined. It's unlike the usual rough greasy sticks at most restaurants. I wouldn't describe it as 'crispy'. I'm not so sure about the health quotient of the meal. Heavy, yes, but it doesn't feel quite as unhealthy.

As much as I enjoyed the food, I didn't fancy the entire meal to consist only of fried batter. I probably annoyed Chef Seiichiro a fair bit by scrapping off the fried bits and firmly ignored all dipping sauces. :p Si Bon chooses its ingredients well and the quality is there. I want to appreciate its full flavors. The restaurant doesn't stinge on the ingredients within. It was top notch. Each piece of scallop and fish was sealed in with its moisture, fresh and tasty.

Between courses, there was a slice of Japanese tomato to cleanse the palate. Si Bon's specialty is kushiage, but I love how its simple bowl of soba is done with finesse. Dessert was deep fried too. No black sesame deep fried ice-cream. Under all that batter, it was a mochi wrapped in a sakura leaf. (Yes, that leaf is edible) I liked it very much, without the batter, of course.

At the end of the evening, they served only to the men a shot of Chivas 12 on the rocks. Hmmm. So typically Japanese. During dinner, items were served to the men first too. Hey, I drink too. The only difference- I'm not into young blended whisky. At the very least, there should be Japanese single malts. Where're the bottles of Nikka and Suntory?

Well, we had bottles of fairly good sake with the meal. I'm not certain we spent more on the drinks or the food. However, I haven't really learnt to appreciate sake. I don't even know what's dry or not so dry. It hasn't begun to mean anything to me, let alone go into the intricate differences between junmai-shu and honjozo versus ginjo-shu and daiginjo-shu. I'm stuck at the descriptions of 'too sweet/not too sweet'. I like cold sake that's not too sweet, complex, full bodied and with a measure of acidity.

We lingered to chat over tea. Then, there was what was termed as whale sashimi served to another group of diners. I couldn't tear my eyes away from that plate.


Si Bon
1 Larkhill Road at Amara Sanctuary Resort, Sentosa
Singapore 099394
T: +65 6276 9896 (Closed on Mondays. Reservations are strongly encouraged) F: +65 6276 5568

Pasta At Otto

The kitchen at Otto Ristorante was still open for us to satisfy a pasta craving after the gigs. Specifically, the man wanted the sea urchin and zucchini pasta, and to sink his teeth into a slab of ribeye.

No wine for us. Too much beer and water ingested at the gig already. For once, we didn't bother with whisky or more drinks after. Food was our sole focus. We probably got hungry from all the dancing and jumping around. Standing at gigs is good!! I've this terrible tendency to fall asleep if I sit and slouch into the seats at concerts.

Wahhh....I hadn't had a full portion of pasta for a long time. Mine was the squid ink tagliolini with Dungeness crab and rosemary. I gave away the crab meat to the man who merrily scooped it all up. The rosemary went beautifully with both pasta and crab. The dish was VERY filling. I haven't had this much carbs in one sitting for a long while. Definitely busted the carb count for the day. Oh well. Thankfully, there was to be pilates in the morning, so the late dinner wasn't so bad, I suppose.

Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to plonk on the chairs or the bed immediately. We wanted to take the stairs from the carpark to the flat. Obviously we haven't done that before because we kinda got lost and ended up on the ground floor. So we took a walk around the estate in a bid to feel lighter before heading upstairs. Did it help? A very leeetle bit. Heh.

Would You Queue Up?

The man, half in denial that he's a groupie of Dinosaur Jr and by way of explaining why he didn't queue up to get the band's signature on the cd sleeves, wrote,

"Frankly I hate queuing and I've never really thought that a signed sleeve means anything. Short of having a drink at a bar and a conversation with the artiste in question, I don't think there's much of a level of human connection in the 2 mins you have to get all your stuff signed after waiting in line for an hour or something. I'm just happy to ... see more, hear the music, relive the memories and have a great time...don't wanna ruin that by trying to have a conversation with or pay a compliment to a lackadaisical long-white-haired dude who barely speaks in half-sentences :)"

Ha. Indeed. J Mascis didn't even bother looking at the crowd. The blinking lights on his pedalboard were infinitely more interesting than the dumb sentences the crowd yelled out. What cracked me up was the following comment to the man's statement:

She-who-shall-remain-unnamed: On the other hand, you'd line up to talk to Neil Gaiman :)

The man: Ah, Neil crafts entire universes in vivid detail. So in a way, he's a god. You'd line up to talk to God wouldn't you? ;p

She-who-shall-remain-unnamed hasn't replied to the thread. But haha, the only person I queued up to get cd sleeves signed is Amanda Palmer and by proxy, Neil Gaiman. The power couple don't just sign. They talk, they communicate, they interact. They're awesome. The other person might possibly be John Mayer, but we'll see.

Gigs In March

Haven't managed to catch a lot acts at Mosaic. I missed 2 acts that I really wouldn't mind- Melody Gardot, as well as the Soulbop Special Edition of Randy Brecker and Bill Evans along with Steve Lukather, Robben Ford, Darryl Jones, Rodney Holmes and Steve Weingart. When 65daysofstatic cancelled their show, there wasn't a need to rush home from Phnom Penh anymore.

Au Revoir Simone (Sunday 14th)

It was like watching an awkward high school recital. They were clearly nervous and missed many many beats. I wasn't about to forgive that just because they're cute. Man, these girls look good but can't play live. What a pity. They sounded so much better on the cd. There're certainly more talented songwriters and keyboardists out there. I...we didn't care about their encore. What a waste of my 1.5 hours.

Dinosaur Jr (Tuesday 16th)

I giggled. Isn't more like Dinosaur Sr now?? Oh whatever. Since the man is this huge huge fan, we all trooped along for the show. And man, we got our eardrums blown out. We should have expected him to pick front row seat. Then there was all that prostration in front of the stage. We were so so close. Thank gawwd for earplugs.

We had this urge to ask J Mascis tie up the shoelaces on his purple Adidas. But he did it before we said anything. We ogled at his pedalboard and whatever else on stage. It felt kinda cool that these guys dressed down, like a regular jam session, ya know. We were too chicken to remove the earplugs even at the last encore cover of The Cure's 'Just Like Heaven'.

The man was like this hyperactive excited overgrown kid all day. Shall cut him some slack. He has waited for 19 years for this gig to happen in Singapore. :)

Think Lou Barlow will come back with Sebadoh for a stint?

The Go! Team (Wednesday 17th)

Honestly, I've no idea what they're about. Got pulled along by the friends to 'dance'. When the band took the stage and showed off some energetic beats of indie disco-funk-punk that reverberated through the studio, the crowd jumped. They continued jumping. Nice. The band really knew how to work the crowd to get the whole vibe going. Very fun. It was a good party.

*********

There're also plenty of Singapore bands playing at Esplanade's venues. Music filled. Awesome. Now that Kings Of Convenience know they've a market in Singapore, they've sold out both nights of their gigs. I.is.not.going. I like them, but not that much. Outside of Mosaic, there's Placebo which the boys are hot about. So I gave up my ticket. I'm not into Placebo or Brian Molko.

A good month this March has been. :)

Ansari's Mutton Briyani

The group of us hustled down to the friend's 3-week old restaurant at the Jalan Sultan area at North Bridge Road. We wanted to try his Dubai-style briyani. Yes, he spells it as b-r-i. All the way down just for taste of spices, friend or otherwise, his briyani better be as good as he promised!

What luck that we managed to get parking along the road. Whew. The Jalan Sultan/Arab Street area is famous for not having sufficient parking lots. Each time we pop by, we have to look at the time and wonder if it's 'peak hour'.

The new Ansari Briyani Restaurant is located a few doors down Islamic Restaurant. (We're not fans of Islamic's famous biryani. The rice is colored without being fragrant. It lacks character and isn't as full flavored as expected.) At S$8 a plate, Ansari's mutton briyani was beautifully moist and well flavored with spices and all. YUMMM. The man declared the mutton to be tender and the meat soaked in all the spices. The only thing- the pepper, mint leaves, coriander, cloves, cumin seeds, tamarind, star anise and all that went into the dish also would be chewed on. I don't like that. So I pick them out from the rice before each bite. Never mind how much ghee goes into the pot. At least I don't see oily remnants on the plate. That long-grain basmati rice tasted almost light. We don't know how good the chicken briyani is. Nobody at the table ordered that.

The friend insisted that we ought to have a drink called the 'habibi' to go with the briyani. Off he went behind the counter to grab the cocktail shaker. Out came glasses of iced apple mint tea, shaken not stirred. Not so sweet. Nice.

We liked it so much that we tapau-ed a few packs home. As far as briyani/biryani goes, we're marking Ansari down as one of our favorites (the others being obscure little stalls around the island and at Tekka Market).

A Card & A Token

Continuing the streak of belligerence today, I've concluded it just before midnight by sending a rather polite but vexed email to IT. This email should get something going.

I've this thing called VPN remote access, which simply means an avenue to access work emails (not via webmail) on the work laptop away from the office. When I ported over to a new platform, IT forgot to issue me with the bank-like token (without the on/off key) for my VPN access. They configured my access to be via card instead. For a long while now, I've been accessing it with a card containing a chip. It's been working fine. Beautifully even. It performed well in Cambodia.

So I told IT not to bother with the token. I'm getting seriously tired of chasing IT around to sort out dates, dance around both our schedules, as well as having had the bad experience of waiting all day for a promised set-up timing which never happened. Like a good drone, I waited till 6pm that day before realizing that no one was going to come fix me a token.

Whatever. They're busy too right? So I told them not to bother. They gave me a reply that was so ROTFLamusing. They told me that the token had been assigned to me and they had to deliver it. So I gave them another set of dates/time to fix it up. Bloody hell- nobody replied me.

I got fed-up. There is no friggin difference to me if I access VPN via a card or a token. All I care about is that I can access my emails and all. I've no other major issues. I don't see a big deal in continuing with the status quo of VPN via card access. Why is it my problem that IT forgot that my access should be via a token and not a card? If things are working perfectly fine, why should I have to follow the rules and get reshuffled all over again? All it takes is a simple order to rescind the allocation of my token and reverse the charges billed to my department.

Talk about being bureaucratic.

Not Doing These Things

(From Harold's Planet. Click above for larger image.)

The girlfriend rolled her eyes at me when she realized I skipped yet another training session. She sent me a comic strip that just about summed it up. Bleah. What promised to be a fun training session today turned out not so fun afterall when I realized that we were supposed to draw with more than markers. Pastels and chalk were involved as well.

Now, why didn't someone mention that these materials were to be used right at the start? Isn't that a factor for consideration, like asking about dietary preferences in an invitation to dinner? Nowhere in the earlier email notification mentioned that. If they had, I'd have pulled out immediately instead of walking out of class, again. My eyes and nose don't like those things. I don't mind drawing, but not when it's to be done in an enclosed room with poor air circulation and air-conditioning locked at 25 degrees celcius with 25 other humans who don't like it colder. The dust will stay in the stuffy room because no one bothers to open the windows to air it out. I'm very mau-mau like that.

Back at my desk, there was an email from HR exhorting all to submit forms which declared our yearly participation in various agency activities and charity contributions. The annual form calculates points and if we hit above a certain number of points, it would give us a token S$100 or something as a 'reward' for our contributions.

That form, goes against all my beliefs of keeping charity work and involvement quiet and under the radar. While it might be an incentive to others, it isn't so to me. I've already submitted a list of 'official' activities in my appraisal form earlier. I don't see why I should do this again. What bullshit. I'm not submitting any damn form.

Clearly, I'm in a belligerent mood today.

Coffee In Phnom Penh

So much for weaning myself off coffee. Tried and failed. Unfortunately (or fortunately), there aren't good coffee joints near the office. On the workdays that I can't tapau coffee from Wild Honey or Black, I'll just do without it. I rather not have caffeine at all than drink what passes for coffee from the office pantry. I suppose I can do without coffee. But what's the fun then?

One luxury I enjoy, it's the pleasure of leaning back in an armchair to sip a leisurely cup of coffee. This, I did, many times over, at the hotel and at little cafes in the city. It's one way of watching the world go by with a full licence to stare at humans. I revel in being able to have random thoughts float around the mind for an extended period of time without having to focus on anything in particular. The feeling of being on vacation, even if it's for a day, is deeply felt. I'm very glad that there is nothing particularly urgent to go home to. The freedom is exhilarating. The choices are always mine to make and not because circumstances dictate otherwise. For as long as possible, this is something I'll never give up or trade for anything in the world.

Since the weekend belongs to me, the work laptop has been stowed along with the severe black clothes. Out came the dri-fit stuff and birkies. How else to beat the heat and humidity in the city?! Now, I feel like a proper tourist. But I also want to explore the hidden alleys that the usual tourists don't go to. I've got to soak in the sights and sounds of Phnom Penh before it's time to leave.

Familiar Food

Upon checking out from the first hotel, I was a tad rather puzzled as to why they declined my Visa credit card. They tried thrice and it still couldn't get through. That Visa card worked perfectly fine all week at other places. The Amex had to rescue me. Otherwise, I wouldn't have enough cash to pay the bill.

Work was done and now comfortably ensconced at the Raffles Hotel, I asked the cashier to try the same Visa card. It worked. It has been working since. GRRRRR. When I travel, the credit cards that come with me are just a Visa (with chip) and an Amex. Never saw the need for a third card. I think I might just have to bring 3 cards along nowadays.

At the dependable and familiar Raffles Hotel, the restaurants serve a fairly good vegetarian menu. However, for Cambodian standards, the prices on the menu are quite expensive. At USD35 for a 3-course meal (5 courses for USD49), we're talking about Singapore prices. But thankfully, ambience, service and the food are pleasing. There is a choice of western or khmer dishes. I picked western, had a soup of pumpkin and sweet peas, and mushroom risotto. The soup's comforting. The risotto could have been cooked for a shorter time so that it's less mushy. The mushrooms used weren't exactly brown field mushrooms. These mushrooms would be better used for soup dishes. Used in a risotto, they lend an acidic sour flavor to the dish. Still, it wasn't too bad. I skipped dessert.

Since the hotel has this fabulous range of single malts at prices that are cheaper than at hotel bars in Singapore, the table felt compelled to go down the list. In fact, I matched the drinks to my food. Heh. So, obviously I skipped dessert so that the sweet Balvenie 12 y.o could work its magic to complete the evening.

Writing On Blue

The new project looking more and more concrete. Perhaps it'll come to fruition. It could bomb. But it's exciting all the same. The negotiations are surprisingly easy, but framed in an intricate dance all the same. It's the work that's to be followed up which is kinda taxing. Ah. One can't have just the fun and not the crunch. Make no mistake- the work year is going to be gruelling and there can't be any slacking off. Boo.

Many firsts on this Cambodia trip:

- A Cambodia entry stamp to begin the travel tales of my new passport with a stupid looking new photo.

- Didn't squeak about the accommodation. It was VERY proper.

- Broke the ice with the Boss. (I was previously terrified each time my work trip involves his presence. I always worry about what to say, what not to do, where to go and what to eat...etc. I always try to run away from him and minimize contact time. Now I'm like, heck it, I'm 32, not an airhead. So I'll just be ME.)

- Used one of the new suitcases and loving it.

- Ha. The black and white travel notebook has finally run out of space. So it's a spanking new blue one now. Its first few pages don't contain meeting notes. They contain random scribbles about where to go and what to do in Phnom Penh.

I've always enjoyed the trips to countries in ASEAN. It's such a blessing to be able to explore the cities both in the personal and work capacity. It isn't just about learning or appreciating another country's culture. It's about drawing from history and linking it to current events and making sense of it all. The experiences frame and heighten my understanding of the region we live in and often, better appreciate or to be critical of Singapore's culture and society, systems and infrastructure.

Rumination

I had an eco-friendlier choice- gear up to ride a (motor) bike out of the city centre or grab a car. As much as I'd love to go vrrrrooooooom down the dusty streets, I didn't quite have the time or clothes for it. So the car it had to be.

It was such a luxury to have the car at my disposal, along with a knowledgeable and friendly driver. He didn't try to push me to go look at jewelry or handicrafts. He left it to me to decide where I wanted to go and he'd make his recommendations from there. That, and also an air-conditioned refuge from the dry heat in Phnom Penh. The city will hit its hottest month in April, expecting temperatures of 40°C.

I took time to re-visit the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. I'm morbid like that. More so than the Royal Palace and Wats, which (to me) warrant a onceover and no more. I like to re-visit its museums, alone, preferably, so that I don't have to deal with another's impatience. I lingered rather long to remember, feel and reflect.

I also went to Choeung Ek. Visiting the site a couple of years ago, I bawled like a baby after. But I was very young and was overwhelmed by the emotions the site stirred. Born and bred in a time that never saw political instability, war, brutal crimes or violence, I didn't know how to react when the scene presented was no longer a chapter in the history books or a moving image on television. This time, a different set of emotions stirred. I felt, empathy. Then the serenity and quietude of the environment set in.

And I remembered how much I enjoyed the sojourn in Cambodia that time and why I'm not a fan of vacations in cities. (Ironic, considering my vacations last year were spent in the major capitals of the world.) There's something joyful about exploring the rural areas where they haven't been totally urbanized.

We made our way back to the hotel as the sun set. I fell asleep in the car. It's been a good day out.

Of Course I Bought Groceries

I hit 3 shopping malls in 1.5hrs- Sorya, Sovanna and the newest City Mall. Fast huh? I had no intention of shopping, but simply walked through to look at new developments and the latest range of imitation goods. (Prada and Jimmy Choo 'leather' bags!) I live in a city that's effectively a giant shopping mall. There's nothing the city's malls can offer me. The malls are filled with imitation goods. The city's shopping trove and treasures lie in the hot, humid, bustling and colorful Russian and Central Markets.

What I was looking for, were the supermarkets that catered to the expatriate community. Lucky holds the monopoly in Phnom Penh. One pays for the items in USD. Some items are still cheaper than Singapore though. Like chicken liver and pork pâte, as well as fig pâte de fruit. For someone who doesn't cook, I sure spend a lot of time meandering through supermarket aisles and grocery shops in any country I'm currently in.

I was looking for the hot sauces and chillies as recommended by the Cambodians and the friends. Imagine the glee on my face when I saw the rows and bottles of sauces, gravies, marinades, chillies and all. Woah. I also did a double take when I saw the squat bottles of 柱侯酱 (zhu hou sauce) stare out innocently at shoppers. The man has been looking for the sauce to cook his stewed beef brisket. But that sauce is nowhere to be found in Singapore supermarkets and we've been too lazy to do something about it. Now that I've chanced upon it in Phnom Penh, I'm just going to grab 2 bottles home for a start.

Even though the preference is to buy wares made of plastic, there're a few glass bottles in the suitcase. My suitcase is too big and I don't seem to have enough clothes to pad it and not have breakage and spills. The teddy bear is cuddly, but not enough to do very much. So the solution is NOT to buy more clothes. I just gotta look for old newspapers and magazines to do it the old school way. Hope the bottles hold!

I Ate The Most At This Meal

Our hosts brought us out to the charming Tell Restaurant which is set within an expansive colonial house.

The impressive menu had pasta, pizza, pork knuckles, steaks, beef goulash, etc. I was rather tempted to just order a raclette for dinner. But it might raise an eyebrow. So I stuck to a salad for the appetizer and a main of fish.

Oh my, that humongous portion of salad contained such fresh vegetables. Crispy and refreshing, it was such a good starter that it literally became my main. I was rather happy when my (fish) main was delayed. I secretly hoped that they had forgotten about it. I was really rather full. So when the main came, only the well-grilled fish got eaten. The rest was sadly, left untouched.

As western as the dishes are, there is a distinct flavor in the food that spoke its heritage as part of the French Indo-China. I'm not sure if it's due to the local spices or ingredients, but it's quite unique. I wouldn't call it authentic, but it isn't bad either. It's just, very interesting.

So what was new about this meal? Nothing, except that it was one rare time I wanted dessert. I've heard about its apple strudel (not just from online sources, but from the friends!) and I really wanted to try it. But I was too stuffed. Gaah. The short walk back to the hotel (even after taking a detour) wasn't long enough to digest anything.

Another Big Building

Phnom Penh is changing at a faster pace than I'd have liked. Pieces of its charm are already being chipped away. Soon, it'll become unbearable like Ho Chi Minh city with its crazy motorcyclists and pollution.

On your way from the airport to the city centre, you'll pass by the mega building of the Council of Ministers at the Russian Federation Boulevard. Slightly further down, there is another new giant building under construction, near completion. It's meant to house the Prime Minister's Office, as well as a new international convention centre to be equipped with state of the art facilities and technology. It's also ummm...financed by China. The building is meant to be completed by end of 2011.

There're more skyscrapers planned. Lots of tall hotels and residential flats are being built. Terms like 'skyscraper city' are being thrown around. Shopping malls have invaded the city and might just edge out all the markets and indie shops. Economic development, of course is essential to the city and country. But for tourists who don't just want to see the city's sights and shopping, it's a little bit of a loss. It's strange how I feel nostalgic about Phnom Penh even before it changes irrevocably.

Lunch, Local Style

The boss needed lunch. So we strolled around looking for some mid day chow. I supposed we could head to one of those free wi-fi cafes nearby. But since I wasn't the hungry one, I left it to him to choose his lunch.

We steered clear of the desserts which looked like tau suan and the sorts because when we were contemplating whether our stomachs could survive them, we saw the stallholder dip her fingers into the big bowls of desserts to clear it of a bug before scooping up a bowl for the customers. An additional scoop of coconut milk was added to most desserts. We weren't sure how well coconut milk would do in the heat.

Then we walked to this particular stall that sold a kind of one-dish meal. It looked like either chicken or pork with rice and some raw vegetables at the side. It didn't look bad. The stall had clean counters and plastic stools.

I think I even impressed myself. I plonked down by one of those stalls in the Russian Market for lunch. Lunch was a USD1.20 plate of ummm....the Cambodian version of char siew rice with an egg, along with a cup of cold tea. I know I know- it's not my usual makan place or food. Neither was I particularly hungry. But hey, I gotta at least try what the locals eat right? It wasn't too bad really. Even though the 'char siew' was quite hard and chewy, it was rather tasty. If I'm not on this diet, I think I could eat it all up. I loved the chilli padi. But I wouldn't eat the entire plate. Too much food, anyway. Needless to say, I transferred most my meat and rice to the boss who surprisingly, didn't mind the food and the not too clean environment. I'm quite proud of him. He's a rather seasoned traveller who isn't too fussy so long he gets nice steamed white rice every now and then.

A silly fly landed right atop the straw of my iced tea. I glared at it. It was damn hot lor. I really wanted a sip of the cold drink. So I swatted the fly away, removed the straw and drank from the glass. My stomach could most certainly live with this level of hygiene. No problem.

Russian Market

For once, I didn't abandon the boss. He had earlier said he wanted to see the Russian Market (Psar Tuol Tom Pong). So I took him there.

Size wise, as many Singaporeans would know, this is just one fifth of Bangkok's Chatuchak Market. It must be the age or something. I used to go ballistic over these sort of wares. Now, I no longer have that desire to just sweep everything that's cheap cheap and cheap. I consider if I'd actually use the item before buying it just because it's pretty.

There were a couple of small art pieces that I didn't mind. But I wasn't quite tempted. So I just lingered for a while over the paintings before walking away. I had absolutely nothing to buy. But I wanted to see, hear and smell the market with all its colors and vibrance.

There were the usual imitation bags and watches, then the dvds. I've this odd habit of catching disjointed episodes of Bones on SQ flights. There's something fun there. It's like refusing to buy a music cd so that I could get a kick out of catching a song on radio. So I haven't gotten around to buying the Bones' box set or something. (I don't download it either!) So for 10 serious seconds, I almost wanted to get the ripoffs at the market.

The wet market was absolutely fascinating. It's probably because I've never seen one quite like this. (Tekka Market is too sanitized. Not quite this.) There was like, fish and animal blood all over the place, water and whatever remnants of seafood. Lots of seafood, pork and chicken. Salted fish, vegetables and dried goods. Strangely, I didn't mind the smells. It didn't stink. It just smelt like, a market.

If it wasn't so hot, we'd have stayed longer before attending the afternoon meetings. Again, my trusty unCroc-like Crocs kept the feet dry in a wet market and dri-fit clothes kept me cool in the humidity.

A Salad Is Perfect For Dinner

I needed dinner and a drink, alcoholic preferably. But I didn't want to linger in touristy joints, most of all, not FCC at Sisowath Quay. There're tons of Singaporeans in Phnom Penh this week. I've already run into 5 of them on the plane. I really didn't want to bump into anyone familiar after hours. So the friends obliged by taking me to an elegant and quiet restaurant in their neighborhood.

All I wanted for dinner was a salad. The kitchen tossed it properly with a little bit of olive oil, balsamic vinegar and pesto. Those huge slices of buffalo milk mozzarella tasted so good. Do you think the mozzarella's made here? So wonderful to unwind, catch up with the lovely friends and all that's happening. Plenty of wine for the friends and hey, they brought a bottle of Balvenie Doublewood 12 y.o for moi! WIEEEEEEE! Such decadence to sip it on the rocks for a stiff apéritif and then later, with a splash of sparkling water as a digestif.

Laced with much laughter and wit in the conversation, the evening felt rich. By the end of dinner, there was this warmth that kept the smile on my face. (And it's not the alcohol.)

I cackled when the friends slyly offered me their beds for the night. It isn't necessary. My hotel (not hostel) room is fine- clean, safe and quite nice, really. I, who is manja queen, is perfectly okay with it. I mustn't make a habit of sneaking out in the nights on work trips! The friends dropped me back at the hotel at a decent hour. I've banned them from turning up in my room. The work day here begins early at 7.30am. I need my sleep yo! Now that I can't skype on this unfriendly, not interactive work laptop, it's rather amusing how I maintain healthier sleep cycles here than at home.

Do I feel a little wistful that I can't stay longer in Phnom Penh? Not really. The friends and I are very used to saying hellos and goodbyes anywhere in the world, so it doesn't matter. We've learnt to seize windows of opportunities to make the most of them, for whatever.

Hello Again Phnom Penh

For some strange reason, there were long queues at Changi Airport for the SilkAir counters for check-in and bag drop at both internet and economy. So I walked to the counter for business class. When ground staff saw that I was flying via economy, she offerred me an upgrade to business class.

Such a nice gesture from my favorite airline. It took me all of 3 seconds to politely decline the offer and grin brightly at her. No need lah. Such a short flight and really, there isn't much difference between business and economy on SilkAir. Also, I didn't want to sit with my boss even though later on, it seemed that business class was rather empty. Heh.

As luck would have it, with the 3-3 configuration in this economy cabin, no one sat next to me. I could sprawl across all 3 seats if I wanted. Yay.

I've given up buying bottles of water at the airport. Heavy to handcarry lah. Now, the bottles are packed into my bag. I've learnt from fellow colleagues during the trip to Malaysia. The ladies had packed bottles of water into their check-in luggage and nothing spilled. So I figured it would be okay. Still, if those bottles of water had spilled this week, never mind that it'd drench all my gadgets; more importantly, I really didn't want to deal with a sodden and very unhappy bear.

Luckily, the seals held and the contents of the suitcase remained dry.

Saturday Night Out

For a good part of 2008 and the whole of 2009, the wardrobe saw nothing but US size 8 and UK size 10 or 12. That was a tad depressing. Obviously, exercising doesn't work if my diet isn't controlled. Eating 3 full meals of pasta every other day encourages the fats to pile on.

I only realized I was getting pudgy when the friends mentioned it and I stared harder at group photos. Horrors! So the first thing I did was to review my diet. I don't eat preserved or processed foods in general, so it isn't difficult to cut down on snacks. I simply cut them out. The daily cans of Coke went and stayed away; spectacularly losing the battle to wean off caffeine, cut down on starch and refined foods, etc. It was time to be less greedy, along with a conscious decision to go pescetarian. The stomach needs to learn to shrink and not expand.

The route to shedding some pounds started last October. I love my food and wasn't in a hurry to look like a stick overnight. I'm curvy and I'll never be lean no matter how I try. So I simply attempt to be healthier. 4 months on, it feels so good to be lighter and more nimble. I don't feel all bothered and lumpy in clothes anymore.

Last night, I slipped into yet another black (boring) dress for dinner at Otto. You know I really love dresses from DvF and Hugo Boss. Plus the designs fit me perfectly. Of late, I've been acquiring many of them. I'm thrilled that the pudginess is receding and I can fit into a US size 6 and UK size 8 now. I've to wear belts to cinch the waist of UK size 10/12 dresses so that I don't look too much like a sack. This DvF US size 6 fits like a glove and made me feel like strutting. Then I think, shit- I can't put on weight like ever, otherwise I need to get a whole new wardrobe, again.

We like its 'gourmet' menu where food comes in tasting portions. Otto switches the items on it according to our preferences. That is much easier on the stomach than a full portion of appetizers and mains. That explains why we never got to dessert with the previous choices of food. Plus I don't have a sweet tooth, so it doesn't matter if we skip it. Wine will do.

Dinner was comfortable. We dawdled over a bottle of medium-bodied chianti without worrying about work the next day. (My intention to get on the emails was thwarted by IT forgetting to configure my VPN access as well as not issuing me a dongle) The man was done with drafting 3 major contracts for the week and could breathe easier for the next. The 2-hour dinner was a good way of spacing out to talk about other topics, like, bluefin tuna, music and incredibly bad singers fronting good bands.

This time, we made it to the bergamot tart. Lovely subtle flavors. Except that it's too sweet for me and I only had half of it.

A Baby Shower

I almost never attend one-month parties for newborns in the Singapore context where majority of the guests are made up of nosyparkers and the holier-than-thou sort who can make singles feel inadequate and unwelcome. Plus I've never coo-ed over babies. I'm just not into them at all. I prefer interacting with (some) toddlers. It's like how the holier-than-thous tell me I'll want kids when I'm 30 and my biological clock will tick, blah blah blah. Well, I still don't want to have babies. I've known that since I was 12 and 20 years later, nothing has changed. It's just not my thing lah.

I understand the joy of having children if you're inclined towards them. What I'm often miffed about, is how people don't seem to understand that it's an intensely personal choice for the humans who choose not to propagate. Will you understand why I'd rather put my efforts into looking after the old folks on my roster, apportion a percentage of my monthly expenditure and time to them to ease the last chapter of their lives than to get pregnant and raise kids? Will you understand why I'd make a conscious choice to adopt (fertility notwithstanding) if I want children? Most of you won't.

Now, baby showers are different. In spite of my anti-social behaviors, I'm more open to attending baby showers where it's already in a different context. Chances are, the ladies who attend are a little more conscious of etiquette. I received an invitation 2 weeks ago to a baby shower that I said yes to after 3 minutes of consideration and cross-checking the calendar. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to ship ideal gifts (i.e not made in China) over for the new mom-to-be. A foray at the shops yielded nothing. So I simply made do with a basket of Mustela products.

This baby shower held in a friend's honor was just the loveliest tea party. It was thrown at another friend's flat. The hostess went through so much effort to organize fabulous fruits and cakes; sandwiches that catered to all dietary preferences; a full range of juices and tea; diaper cake and balloons for the pregnant girlfriend; activities and games.

I'm so heartened that at this baby shower, part of the conversation looks into integrating cats with a newborn and introducing dogs to the children, and not to consider giving the pets away till there is no other alternative. All very civil instead of some of the 'fishmarket talk' I've walked away from. I'm also very pleased that not a single (pun intended) well bred lady ask another if she intends to have children or if they're married. They accepted the terms of 'partner' and 'other half' as they are. Best of all, conversation went beyond girlie topics. Whew, I'm not a very girlie girl that way. These women have got brains and aren't afraid to use them!

I attended the intimate baby shower, not knowing half the guests. Surprisingly, I came away with many new firm acquaintances. How very nice.

Fiddling With Clay

For teambuilding, the department made clay mugs at Clay Street.

My team went for the theme of 'technology'. I groaned. How to make those things?! At previous (real) pottery sessions, at least I can claim that misshappen jug as an intentional piece of wobbly art. But a mug requires precision and well, symmetry. I don't have that sort of patience.

After I threw a fit and got over the earlier part of the day where there was a slide in a presentation that read "Department Retreat cum Teambuilding", the boss decided to crush my ego and wow us with his clay kneading skills. He made an iPhone thingy, used a satay stick to cut out an Apple logo and stuck it to the front. It looked so presentable, almost polished.

Mmine remained more or less like a lump of clay. I was trying to make an iPod. But halfway through, I gave up shaping and decided to do an iNano instead. But I couldn't be bothered to even google for the image and randomly made up something. It didn't even resemble a vague image of a Nano! Fail. I didn't even care to smooth out the edges. Mine was more like a crude pen-holder. It probably would have so many cracks that it can't hold water. It's the ugliest thing ever. Eiooow. The other members of the team made much better stuff.

We made the choice of going to the studio for teambuilding instead of asking them to come to the office. Sure, the experience was kinda fun. But it was damn hot lor. Situated in a quaint, old, unrefurbished shophouse, the entre studio isn't air-conditioned. There wasn't even a breeze coming through. So the fans simply circulated hot air around to prevent us from suffocating. My choice of dri-fit garb for the day which required 'casual wear' was perfect for the sweltering afternoon.

Since I couldn't really sit still to work on my ugly piece, I was done in an hour. Went around to disturb the colleagues, shuffled next door to get cold drinks, strolled around the vicinity of the studio and stared up at the headquarters of Workers' Party nearby. Towards the end of the session, we picked out the colors for our pieces. The good people at the studio said they'd fill out the colors and fire them. The pieces would come back to us in a month or so. UGGGGH. I'm quite happy not to get it back, ever.

They Call It 'BeeHoon'

While the man enjoys his monthly pedicures, he also looks forward to a plate of fried beehoon (along with its assorted ingredients) for breakfast at the nearby non-air-conditioned foodcourt. He is always most enthusiastic and doesn't mind scrambling out of bed early on a weekend even if I pick out a 10am appointment for him. That simply means he could eat that plate of beehoon earlier.

At about S$3 for a plate above with an egg done sunny side up, spam, veggies, fishcake and fried fake fish fillet, it definitely appeals to the masses. During the weekend, there is always long line of people patiently waiting for their turn at the beehoon stall at Holland Village. It's usually sold out by noon or so. I suppose that says a lot about the popularity of the food and to some extent, its quality.

The man isn't into the beehoon, nasi lemak, etc, kopitiam breakfasts. He finds that too heavy unless we're talking about half-boiled eggs that are yummy to slurp up in 2 minutes. He prefers the usual eggs, oats and bran. However, he has taken a shine to this particular stall's fried beehoon and thick brown noodles, so much so that he's willing to brave the heat, queue and eat. The first time he tried it, he fell in love. He declared it non-greasy and well fried. So he wants to have it once a month alongside the pedicures. Make that twice a month. He uses the beehoon as an excuse to head to the nail salon. I'm not sure if he wants the pedicure more or that he likes the idea of getting his fix.

Don't look at me. I can't appreciate beehoon. To me, one is as greasy as the other. Eeeeps. I can't do a plate all by myself this early in the morning. My stomach isn't awake. I will pinch like 3 bites and a fishcake from the man's plate, and I'm done for the day. That will take me nicely till 3pm for tunch.

A Woman, A Gun And A Noodle Shop (三槍拍案驚奇)

* Spoilers are included below. Don't read beyond the first paragraph if you haven't and want to watch the film.

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Simply because it's been hailed as a good remake of the Coen Brothers' 1985 'Blood Simple', we watched Zhang Yimous's 2010 'A Woman, A Gun and A Noodle Shop' (三槍拍案驚奇). Yes, in Mandarin. The man survived rather well on subtitles whereas I enjoyed the full flavor of the language.

In this different setting, the plot follows closely to the Coen Brothers' tale. The Chinese re-telling frames the story beautifully with its setting and rather interesting characters who are merrily killed off. However, the dark humor in Blood Simple doesn't come through in this remake. In fact, the humor is quite obviously different. To be honest, I wasn't sure what to make of it. It was with great relief that before midway through the movie, the initial slapstick content was pared down and narrowed into very little conversation among the characters and the storytelling shone through.

The landscape is stunning. The desolate hills near the Great Wall's Jiayu Pass (嘉峪关) in Gansu beat the western backdrop of Texas town anyday. The desert lends such a different flavor to the film and the endless possibilities and imagery conjured. For one, the colors in the Chinese film are a lot brighter and cheerier than in the western.

I didn't watch the Chinese film to compare and contrast it to the English original. I watched it for Zhang Yimou as I've always been rather fond of his vision in his films. I was also curious to see his take on Blood Simple in another context and made for, perhaps, another audience.

This Chinese remake is splattered with Zhang Yimou's trademark art direction in every scene. It's so purposeful. We're glad to have set aside time to go catch this film. It's rather enjoyable.

You Are A Piece of Shit

I'm incredibly angry at my new work laptop, or rather, its system restrictions.

While I thoroughly understand the security concerns, control, expenses, yadda yadda yadda, it doesn't negate the fact that it's the most unproductive machine EVER. I want to type Chinese characters and do photo-editing. But I can't. I'd have to submit an application form to IT to request for permission for downloading the software/s and justify why it's necessary in my work. How wonderful. Imagine all the lines of "Sorry, I can't help you edit photos/type Chinese documents. I don't have a justification for this programme in my laptop."

That isn't an issue in Singapore. Go block whatever sites or wherever, I don't care. Whatever. I'll just bring my Macbook (and mobile broadband) to the office.

However, the other sore point is about travelling with this retarded machine. It's not fair for the office to ask me to travel with a work laptop that doesn't support instant chats or Skype, video or any application that allows me to effectively communicate with humans. It's not fair to expect me to depend on a personal 3G phone (that the office doesn't pay for) for communication in this day and age.

If the office expects sterling performance from me and yet can't support me in terms of infrastructure, don't expect me to fork out personal expenses and effort to maintain the same standards. That will be such a joke because my home is more well equipped than what I have here. If the office makes a choice to lapse and not enable technology to aid its staff in their work, don't expect brilliant commitment from me either.

The previous model of the work laptop is nice. On work trips AND VACATIONS, I'm in touch with friends and the office via Skype, MSN and every damn thing while being able to access emails, clear work and pull double shifts. I only need 1 laptop to ensure that productivity remains at the same level, or even at an increased volume. I'm happy and willing to do that. But with this new platform, it makes me reluctant to take the work laptop anywhere. My Macbook is the preferred accessory now.

On the next work trip, I'll put this stupid laptop to test and see what it can do. If I can slide around it and twibble at its firewalls, I will. I'll push its limits and persuade it to accept certain functions. If I can't, then it simply means that work comes to a standstill on each trip. Don't expect me to answer work emails when the machine refuses to let me connect and communicate with humans I love. Of course I'll only bring the other machine that makes me happy. When it comes to things like that, I'm very petulant.

Bye bye productivity. Bye bye work-life integration. I'll have more of a life now, thanks to a stunted work laptop.

Soaking Up Pee

A thrill to steal away for the afternoon to catch up with the girlfriend and her 3-year-old, my god-daughter. As always with toddlers and shoes, she needed a larger size again and we were off to grab her a good pair (or two!) for walking.

We hopped into Canelé for desserts because the little girl loved her sweets. She picked out the Mont Blanc (a chestnut pureé thingy) for herself. Make no mistake- that was her cake and she wasn't about to share very much of it. I had to select something else for myself.

The little girl was so focused on eating her cake that she forgot to tell us that she wanted to pee. So she simply did what most children do when they forget about peeing, they pee wherever they are. She left a gigantic puddle on the floor.

We didn't over-react. We simply rolled our eyes and got to work. I grabbed the serviettes to soak up the pee and dumped it outside in the bin, asked for a mop dipped in disinfectant and then cleared the puddle. Yes, you read right- I mopped the floor, not the servers. The girlfriend sorted out the wet shorts, cleaned the little girl up and put her in dry clothes. Luckily her new shoes weren't wet, the chair wasn't made of fabric and little children's pee doesn't stink.

Did I feel apologetic? Just a little. But not overly so. We've a child out with us, toilet-trained, but still an excitable child. So accidents do happen. Importantly, it's what we do after that takes away the embarrassment. We apologized to the diners next to us who had just finished their plates of pasta. They were absolutely gracious about it and took it in a good natured stride. They weren't turned off or anything. In fact, they seemed rather tickled. They even ordered dessert after. Whew. I thanked the cafe's floor staff profusely for wanting to help and allowing me to mop rather than insisting.

After being put into dry clothes, the little girl giggled at us, pointed to the remnants of on her plate and stated loudly, "Can I have my cake please?" The girlfriend and I roared with laughter. We tsk-ed at her. Oh dear us. The girl's got her priorities right. But she was quite sheepish about it. She called her Daddy and confessed that "[I] she pee-ed on the chair." If I'm in a swanky restaurant (that allows patrons below 6 years old) and this happens, I'd do the same- roll up my dress, get to my knees and simply clean up. No biggie. Pee can be washed off diamond rings rather easily.