Potluck Prep

I'll never never eat out again during festive occasions. Each time I forget and venture out, an unsatisfying meal ensues. We'll either cook and host dinner, or shamelessly appear in someone's kitchen to eat their food. It's potluck tonight and the man is contributing a beef stew and roast chicken.

I decided to help the man instead of letting the maid deal with it all. Even though it's just 2 items, it's a fair bit of work on the stove, sink and oven. We popped in the concert dvd of Bruce Springsteen's 2009 gig (with The E Street Band) at Hyde Park and pulled out a bottle of easy champagne to occupy us while the man cooks and I wash.

The dishwasher hums quietly as we go about doing things in the kitchen. The beef stew was done yesterday and is now simmering for its final reduction on the stove. I didn't contribute anything to that chicken except to stuff it and sew up its ass. Those, I did really well. The chicken has been shoved into the oven, and the rest of the stuffing is being prepped as a side dish.

As the rain pours down in white sheets that blocks out the view of the horizon, the flat cools from the morning's heat. The air-conditioning is kept to the minimal and the temperature in the kitchen isn't too stiffling. The whistling and easy tunes of 'Working On A Dream' and 'Waitin' On A Sunny Day' fill the flat. Life is good.

Shinji For Lunch

I've never been able to make it to lunch anywhere with anyone for years. It always has to be dinner, and at a later timing of after 8.15pm. These 3 weeks, I've had the time to fix up many leisurely lunch appointments, and do dinner at 7.30pm. *happy sigh

This is the first time I've made it to lunch at Shinji. It's still nice, but I always prefer the vibe of a dinner somehow, wherever. Lunch was good today, as usual. I like the traditional style of the food here. No newfangled strange combinations. A fitting end to 2010, so to speak.

By now, Chef Oshino remembers that I don't like wasabi in nigiri sushi. I prefer my sushi without it because I like the taste of the rice here as well. The texture of it and the flavors of the fish mesh well enough not to have other sharp tints interfering. I don't mind wasabi, but I'm very particular about it, and will rather not have it if it isn't done well, or god forbid, out of a tube. If I do indulge, it'll be just a touch on the sashimi with the tiniest drop of soy will suffice.

The chefs at Shinji accede to my request for a tinier-than-normal portion of rice for the sushi. Otherwise I can't fit in a decent amount of food in the stomach! So I haven't mustered up the courage to ask them to for a kombu onigiri. They might just smack me. Next time. I'll do that on the next visit.

2010 : Closed

The last day of another year.

At the end of it, there're plenty of musings, lots of things to smile about and no regrets. I've done all the inner reflection, and through the written angst and peace in July and August. 2011 will be topsy-turvy for me. Bring it on.

This blog is put up for the benefit of friends and some of the family that I actually like. I write what I choose to. This isn't sugar and spice. I select the angles to display in the public sphere. Nothing I say here is unmentionable to humans in face-to-face meets. Not everything I say in face-to-face meets is repeated here. You, who know me, know that. I have made some friends along the way. You people are gems. Much appreciated.

To the others, thank you for coming by. Communication is never over-rated. Constructive criticisms and lovely words, I appreciate your insights and I've been touched by your gestures of friendship, sometimes empathy, understanding and tolerance. An unexpected blessing.

To the rest, I don't blog for you or write what you want to read, but since I've chosen to put this out to be publicly accessible, you're not unwelcome. You're often intriguing.

Oh, this sounds like a goodbye-blogging post. It isn't. :) It's me saying thank you to y'all for reading the nonsense written these 5 years. Blogspot has been kind; I'm too lazy to shift to another domain. This will not become a photo blog because I take crap photos and blabber too much. So, I'll continue to write as I will in the new year.

To all, have a fruitful 2011. Make each day count, make the year a happy one. Whenever you can, steal moments for yourself. Breathe. I wish you well.

Out With The Young People

I'm very happy that the lovely duo held us in their thoughts and asked us out to dinner at Artichoke. We always look forward to catching up with them because conversation is nothing less than stimulating and substantial. Of course we talk a lot of crap too!

The evening flew by so quickly. Very enjoyable. We gently teased them and told them that they should be out partying. Heck, we partied harder at their age! It was a time of decadence and hedonism. I'm sure uni students do that still. And many lead more exciting lives now than we did then! But hey, these two have a good head on their shoulders and there aren't lurid stories to gossip about. Or they aren't telling! Heh.

The man and I keep forgetting how young they really are. We knew them when they were just kids, and now, they're all grown up, almost graduating from law school and ready to blaze their own paths, but very probably not as lawyers. What a wonderful concept.

Time With The Girlfriends

Seeing the lovely brooch on the girlfriend's blouse was such a scream. It's quite the fashion statement. She always carries off a brooch with such stylish panache. I won't usually call this a corsage, but it's so huge, it can be termed as one!

We had lunch and coffee. 3 of us. Bad pasta, okay mushrooms and good coffee. We did random things today. Absolutely so. There's such quiet joy in spending time with the girlfriends. No time spent with them is too little.

I'm blessed by their friendship. It's all quite amazing how we managed to hit it off, so to speak. We're poles apart, yet there's common ground that's beyond the obviously common links. They see the good in me, but they see ALOT of the bad, the whiny, the brazen and politically incorrect sides too. I wonder how on earth they can tahan me.

After today, they've both got iPhones and snazzy apps, and I'm still on my Berry with its lousy camera. So say boo. Heeeheeeheheh.

Porridge, An Afternoon Snack

So I've got a taste of Zhen Zhen Porridge (真真粥品). This had to be tapau-ed since there wasn't enough time to swing by Maxwell Market. Purists will say it won't be the best tasting since it isn't served piping hot from the stove, but heck, I'm sure it can't be that bad!

The friends snidely commented that the queue was really long at the stall because the process of readying a bowl of porridge was just so slow. Oh well, the stall owners can take as damn long as they want and they'll not lack customers till they close at 2.30pm. This being the season when most people are on leave, Maxwell Market won't be as crowded as it usually is.

I didn't take too much of this as it was a pork and century egg porridge. After all, I had lunch, but a couple of spoonfuls made it a small afternoon snack. Not too bad. It's not a delicate sort of porridge. It's like what people say, creamy. A very rough sort of finish. It was a tad on the salty side. One can call it flavorful, I suppose. Or maybe the meat blended into it rather strongly as opposed to the lighter taste of fish. Will I stand in line for another bowl of this on a usual work-day? No friggin' way. This porridge doesn't blow my mind enough for me to queue and sweat it out.

I realize that there's a world of opinions regarding what sort of porridge the friends, the man and I prefer. Heheheh. We've tried a number of porridge stalls in succession, and consecutively, so the memories are fresh when we make comparisons and notes. Almost like whisky! Such a fab alternative to heavy festive meals. The feasting hasn't stopped though. Ugh. More to come tonight and over the weekend.

Porridge For Brunch!

I'm clearly, striving towards eating porridge for every other meal that I've a major say in. Since ice has said so, and I usually try out her recommendations because we more or less hold similar opinions when it comes to food, it's off to Ah Chiang's Porridge (阿昌粥) for brunch.

There's so much good food in Tiong Bahru Estate- the lack of parking space and tables at the food stalls prove it. Luckily we arrived at an odd timing where most people were done with breakfast and it was too early for lunch. Lots of parking lots and no crowd. What a good start to the day!

This shop has generated alot of hype definitely. It sits in a very quaint locale. I've never eaten at this shop. Maybe once, as a very young imp, but the memory is hazy. It could have been another porridge stall. I've heard about Ah Chiang, but it keeps slipping off the radar whenever I want porridge due to the sheer convenience of having it elsewhere. There're 2 more outlets at Hougang and Toa Payoh Lorong 6.

My bowl of fish and century egg porridge was satisfying. I like the taste and texture of Ah Chiang's century eggs, and had a plate all to myself. I stole a peek at the kitchen and they do still cook the porridge over charcoal.

Sunny and not too blistering, it was nice to sit down for an unhurried brunch. Then we strolled over for coffee at Forty Hands where I managed to convince the barista not to pull so much foam for a flat white. Such a pleasant morning.

Ah Chiang's Porridge (阿昌粥)

Blk 65, Tiong Poh Road

#01-38 Tiong Bahru Estate

Singapore 160065

T: +65 6557 0084

Hanging Out In The East

I dug out the Salomons and wiped down the ball bearings. It's been a long long time since I skated. I used to skate on Sunday mornings. Then the travelling got crazy, the work hours got in the way and all I wanted to do on Sunday mornings was to sleep in or do other stuff, like brunch or getting out of a hangover.

The weather was perfect today. It remained blissfully overcast with nary a drop of rain. So I took a chance and scuttled off to East Coast Park for a bit. No marathon diversions or barricades, not much pedestrian traffic and very few bicycles lurking. It was so empty. BEST! Oh, the feel of the wind in the hair and face. A good 25km. It was such a rejuvenating workout!

Then I headed to the club to cool down with a long leisurely swim under a speckle of drizzle. The water was surprisingly warm-ish even though there hadn't been much of the sun all day. I changed out and was headed home when the friends insisted on going all the way to Bedok to eat porridge at this particular stall. I was like, why ah, so good meh? Isn't there porridge elsewhere? Since I was in the area and dinner didn't involve a mega meal, I didn't protest too much and hopped along with the friends.

Bedok isn't our 'hood, but we easily found the stall at the hawker centre- 欣美粥品 (Xin Mei Congee)! Done Cantonese chook style, that porridge is something. Such simple food, but utmost pleasure derived. Everyone chowed down and was pleased with what met their tastebuds. I'm definitely very happy with my bowl of fish slices and century eggs.

欣美粥品 (Xin Mei Congee)

Blk 207 New Upper Changi Road

#01-22 (Stall Number), next to Bedok bus interchange and train station

Singapore 460207

Casio Bling!

While the cabinet holds a few timepieces which are supposedly classics, I'm no connoisseur of watches. They're simply utilitarian to me. At events which might require some sort of formal dress, I don't even bother to wear a watch because it'll clash with my clothes and jewelry.

My first watch was a pale pink Casio with hands, which was worn to bits, literally. I think it was even made in Japan, as opposed to the ones mass produced in China now. I'm always been quite fond of Casio. I love them sturdy Baby-G and G-shocks. I like the rubber and colors! They're my default watches for roughwear. But I've not owned another pink watch since. I can't stand pink on me. Too girly.

When I asked the man for the watches he wished to send for servicing, he gasped and ran to the next room. He came back with a gift box and said rather sheepishly that he forgot to give it to me as another Christmas present. Another?!

It was a totally bling-ed out Casio man! It's the brand's new line called Sheen. Wah lau. I stifled a giggle. So, this is the man's idea of a pretty watch! It's damn bling man. This isn't what I'd have chosen for myself. The one bling-bling timepiece I have, has only been worn twice all these years. I'm just not a fan of bling. Luckily this is just fun accessory. It does look okay on the wrist. So yes, I'll wear it. The friends are just going to laugh and say this isn't very me. Heh. See that little star at the bottom of the face? That's the second hand and it rotates! So fun! The man is very sweet lah.

Samantha's Diary

This Christmas, I can't help giggling each time I remember the short story titled 'Samantha's Diary', written by Diana Wynne Jones for the compilation of Stories by Neil Gaiman and Al Sarrantonio.

In a nutshell, it's about a suitor courting Samantha during Christmas, in well, the old-fashioned way. It's not a tale of love. Not exactly. It's more than a laugh, of course. A satire. Read it to grin at hilarity of the situation/s.

"December 28, 2233

I SPENT A GLORIOUS morning at the Sales and came back with six bags of Wonderful Bargains, to find I have four parrots now. Plus one more partridge (and tree), two more pigeons and three more of those unspeakable hens. Housebot has ignored my attempt at programming as if I'd never tried. The patio is now a small forest full of droppings. The pigeons sit on the trees and the hens rush about below. Indoors are four scuttling partridges and four of those large rings on sticks where parrots are supposed to perch, not that they do. The red one has taken a liking to my bedroom. The green one flies about all the time, shouting swear words, and the multicoloured two perch anywhere so long as it isn't their official perches. I have put those in the closet because Housebot stops whenever it runs into one. I have ordered a twenty-kilo sack of Avian Feed (parrots), which is actually different from the others, and which the parrots mostly consume from saucers on the kitchen table. I walk about giving a mad laugh from time to time. I am inured. I am resigned. "

The story ends on January 3, 2234 with Samantha's apartment filled with swans, trampolines, a herd of cows and a fifth parcel of rings. It's rather entertaining.

Coffee Mugs

I'm getting quite embarrassed at using the Starbucks thermos at other coffee joints. It's just wrong. I don't really want to buy a mug from each specific cafe just so to use it there. I want a generic mug! Am so glad the Konitz mugs arrived in good time! Yayy! This makes it so cool. We love them, and they've been put to good use. The tall one is meant for the man. The shorter one is mine. But we're swopping. I usually do a large or double, and the man does the regular. :D

Yes, that's a bear from Starbucks. But bears don't share that embarrassment. They're just cute and have no part to play in any corporate mooshes or take any sort of responsibility for bad coffee. And that's a shoutout to you guys in Vancouver and Toronto for this Christmas. Gimme more cute bears please!

Finding The Book

The friends have a trove of cooking books. They use it religiously, pick out and put together different recipes for a homecooked dinner. Nothing is too much or too difficult for them to churn out.

The man picked up the friend's copy of Heston Blumenthal's 'The Big Fat Duck's Cookbook' to browse. He hasn't read it before. So while waiting for dinner to be ready, he was merrily checking out the words and all. It's a beautiful book.

As he flipped, he was like, "These illustrations are very Dave McKean." He flipped to the front and went ahhhh. Of course. If you're a fan of his graphic novels, you'll be able to identify his trademark style in his illustrations anywhere.

I thought I'd get the man a book for Christmas. But I was thwarted because he said he didn't exactly fancy the recipes. Oh well. The illustrations are really gorgeous though. Would be quite nice to put it on the shelves and take it out to stare once in a while. Aiyah. Fail. I shall toddle down to the bookshops to check it out anyway. If they don't stock it, I'll turn to Amazon or something.

St Stephen's Day

I think they really mean 'The 12 Days of Feasting'. But that's not the point. In the footsteps of Wenceslas (without the bitter cold), we strive to spread the cheer of the feast of St Stephen's at the hospice and the old folks' homes.

Earlier last month, the friends lovingly cured plenty of ham. Over the past 3 days, they roasted slabs of beef to be given away today. There was something about the hams. The girlfriend who did them definitely hit a good streak. This year, all her hams turned out so good! I didn't even have to eat it to know they were awesome. Look at the colors. Strangely no one baked any sweets. We turned to the hotels and bought logcakes off the racks with strict instructions to drastically reduce the amount of sugar for all.

I'm quite done with the food over the week, and am ready to puke at the mere thought of a big meal. I'm very happy to see other people taking bites of the food. I wasn't as happy when I was pulled to sing Christmas carols. I haven't gone caroling for years. And my friends win- they thrust scores into my hand, pointed to the alto portion and told me to sight-read it, since we're supposed to know most of the Christmas carols anyway. Oeh, being able to sing the melody doesn't mean I can sing in tune for my parts!

We obviously never rehearsed this. I'm so rusty at choral singing. Of course I went laughingly off-key at different stages for all the carols.

Winding Down

All day, some of us have been dying for a cup of coffee, but couldn't quite get to it. When the activities drew to a close, we made a beeline for coffee, and the rest simply wanted to have a quiet chat before we disperse for ummm....more eating, separately.

Many groaned at how ridiculous the feasting had become. How many rich meals can you eat in a day? I can't do more than one. Either lunch or dinner. Today, I ran around enough to work off yesterday's meals. Luckily by buzzing around today, I managed to skip most of the mega eating that the others had to do. Anyway, we were feeding others. All good. Pheww.

So it was off to a rather convenient and not too crowded Papa Palheta for a shot of caffeine for everyone, as well as to pick up more beans as gifts for the parties next week.

A Kelly For Mommy

Mommy's the sweetie who always opens her bag wardrobe for me, and said I could take any piece I so choose. She populates my bag cabinets with classic pieces and insists the man budgets an allowance for bags for me each time he travels. Muahahaha.

She has this air of gentle manner and delicate courtesy. I'm kinda, bouncy and never lost that spoilt attitude of precocious rebellion. Obviously, I can never carry off the bags in the lovely style that she can.

She isn't too fond of exotic leather or the alligator green, purple or teddybear-forbid, bright pink. So we'll contribute all possible pastel shades and highlights (depends on how fast the house churns out the colors) in either Swift or Clemence.

So this is for Mommy, who looks fabulous in a Birkin or a Kelly. She carries the bags, never the other way round.

Christmas Lunch

Christmas lunches are always epic. This one is no different. The man's parents hosted lunch today; we ate from 1pm till now, and it hasn't exactly ended. There's a myriad of meats (different cuts) and poultry on the table, both homecooked and store-bought. There was probably a whole cow, a lamb, one giant turkey, goose and whatnots.

That's the thing about Christmas- so much meats. What's the deal?! As colorful as the Christmas feast was, I took one look and the table and felt the stomach churn. It was just too much meat. Dinner last night was fantabulous and I hadn't digested all of it. I took to the kitchen to help out with the dishes. The maids were there, but they could pack up the food or do something else. It was a big kitchen and they had plenty to do. I'm not particularly sociable at times, and prefer to stick my ass to the sink.

Luckily the man knew I'd be iffy about the meats. Heck, at dinner last night, I asked for linguine and skipped the foie gras, goose and wild boar. So today, he fried up a huge pot of butter and corn pilaf for me. There were bread and fabulous cheeses hand-carried from London and arrived yesterday. I was all sorted. I like big gatherings because there're too many things going on and no one would be eyeing my plate and wondering how much I'm eating. Really. Food is over-rated sometimes.

There was rice and plenty of beer. My gawwd, the beer. Such awesome stuff. So many different kinds of fruity bitter good beer. There were 4 crates of different beers. I had fun checking them out and picking out the cold ones. Ooh la la. I'm a happy imp.

We never plan for dinner on Christmas Day, or any sort of strenuous activities. We don't even dare to promise anyone to do drinks. That would be just asking for it. Christmas night should be spent in front of the tv, asleep or nursing a hangover from the afternoon. Wahahahaha.

The Man's Ox Tongue

I feel obliged to talk about the man's ox tongue. He's never done a dish of ox tongue before. That's only because the Aunt has always brought ox tongue to lunch. But for the past 2 years, the Aunt had trouble bringing cooked or frozen ox tongue into Singapore, and it was such a harrowing experience that she didn't want to do that anymore. So the man proclaimed he would take over and committed to a a dish of ox tongue for his parents' Christmas lunch.

He was a little wary since it was something he hadn't tried. One tongue was spoilt because it was in the freezer for too long, and our new maid thawed it out in hot water. I tell you, the man very nearly wept. Might as well. It gave him time to browse the recipes and re-traced steps of the curing that he didn't like. Of course we have a secret ingredient- potassium nitrate which isn't exactly easily available here.

A new tongue was bought and cured. He took another recipe for curing it in brine and changed it to suit his preferences. The tongue sat in the fridge for a week, and then soaked in clear artesian water for 24 hours to rid it of excessive salt.

This morning, he woke up at 6.30am to tend to his dearest piece of offal. He gently poached the tongue, and made a reduction sauce for it. From all accounts, the tongue was STUNNING. And mind you, these are relatives with the most discerning of tastebuds who were ready to criticize it as too oily, too salty or too whatever. But the first bites were greeted with silence, and then, more zealous forkfuls. You know.

Blessed Christmas!

May your Christmas and time through the year be filled with a table laden with all the goodness of feasts in the way you want it to be.

May we never forget Christmas in our hearts and share our blessings wherever and however.

Red, Green, Silver And Gold

It must be a sign of age. I keep wanting to spend all these festive occasions quietly, not even with the friends. The man and I spend the other 363 days of the year with our friends. As much as we love them, we don't need to stick to one another's ass at Christmas.

Nowadays, I'm wary of social conversations because I don't seem to be as tactful as before. I might just blurt out true opinions that aren't exactly politically correct. It's a constant struggle sometimes, to stay cheery. By nature, I don't belong to any camp of optimism. We count our blessings and try not to get too depressed with the state of the world.

In what I do outside of the job, my faith is consistently renewed through heartfelt examples of human tales. I believe, cautiously so. Have I ever struggled with principles and morality? Hell, yes. For a long while. Life is never simple is it? There will be darkness and there will be dungeons. How long can peace last? How far can light reach? I've got a good balance now, but I'm not complacent about it. Each Christmas, I try to re-affirm my beliefs and renew that faith, although I admit, both get eroded with the passing of time.

Christmas Eve. We're here again. Have a good one, y'all.

I'd Say It's Enough For Now

This wraps up the whole lot of multiples in different colors and styles.

Done with the mad acquisition. I've been a closet nutcase this year, almost obsessively amassing the classics I like. There is absolutely no more space in the wardrobe. And dare I say there's nothing else I want from this sphere.

I love black the way I like no other color. Black anchors them all.

Angelo's

Some of the friends love to cook and host. But funny how no one is in the mood to do any such thing during this period. Some say that since they're obligated to cook up a Christmas lunch for the family that takes so much out of them, they very much prefer to eat out when they can. The man feels the same.

So for tonight's gathering after the performance for the old folks, we went out to a casual joint for down-to-earth carbs. We don't eat here often because it's a little off all our radar. Wanting somewhere central yet away from the Christmas crush, and not MBS again, the friends fixed up dinner at the fairly dependable Angelo's.

It's good to have some friends back in town for a bit. We haven't made it to their side of the world to visit. Don't know if that will happen next year. We'll see. But for now, one face-to-face wins ten Skype chats and twenty emails any day. It's comforting how warm it feels to meet, like nothing has changed and the friendship has deepened; as we get older, we're still comfortable with one another.

There was no alcohol on the table. Water was the order for the evening. We're all partied out somewhat. A long dinner, and an early night. That sounds about right for a unhurried pace to trot along towards the end of the year.

A Lamp

It was just one of them random conversations. But the girlfriend remembered this nugget and insisted on dragging me down to Ikea to get a new lamp.

I love Ikea lamps. The super cheap but totally utilitarian one at home lasted for 3 years with only 2 changes of lightbulbs. It's just a little wobbly, but nothing a screwdriver, cables and superglue can't fix. So after having it wobble for months, I finally got around to setting it straight. It works alright.

Still, the girlfriend decided that she would get both of us a Christmas present- more for the man than anything, simply because he uses the lamp to read into the night. We've got tiny reading lights, but the lamp will work on most nights. It's more powerful! So she thinks the man's very poor thing because I don't want to give him a new lamp. Wahahahahaha.

With a single-minded focus, the girlfriend determinedly drove to Ikea to pick out this out for us. I told her wryly, "You know I'm the one who's gonna have to fix this right?" She gleefully nodded and retorted, "You'll enjoy that anyway!" Okay, true, that.

I'll let giggly-wobbly lamp stand for a bit. After Christmas and at the turn of the decade, I'll squat down and fix up this new pretty steel thing. It'll be almost fun. And I can expect no help from the man. Except a possible "very nicely done woman!" Chehh.

Big Tummy!

While a girlfriend and I quibbled over lamps, the other one swished around zen-like, picking out items she would need for her babies. I'm happy to see her walking around without too much difficulty.

She's been terrified about turning into a whale during the pregnancy. I've always teased her to say I'll draw her a whale in her third trimester. I haven't done so because she's nowhere like one! I'll draw her a curvy mermaid with a sexy tummy bump. Her increase in weight has all gone to the babies. With all that swimming, she's looking tanned and trim. And she's got color in her cheeks and lips. Very nice.

She let me rub her tummy and I hollered at the babies inside. Such fun! Does that make me want one? Hell, no. I want to see hers and pull their ears. Heeeee. I want play-time, and then return them to the parents at the end of the afternoon! Best.

She hasn't had the easiest of pregnancies and she's been through so much. It must be such a constant struggle to stay positive even though there's a ton of 'what ifs and hows' going through her mind. There's nothing more that I could wish for her this Christmas than to have a safe and smooth delivery in 2 months.

xxxooo

Cut

I've given up taking the camera along to fancy schmancy restaurants. Mine is an idiot-proof and can't quite perform brilliant in very low lighting. I do need an SLR for these occasions, except my tiny bags don't fit them. Grrrrrr. Oh well. I could live without it in London and I'll live without it here. Still, I swear the restaurants do this on purpose.

I'm really not impressed by the restaurants at Marina Bay Sands and its vicinity. I've done my rounds twice at each and am not too hot about them. There are 4 that are over-priced for the kind of ingredients and presentation done in Singapore. Their original restaurants are degrees better than what we have, and at a good 20% - 30% cheaper. I can't help thinking that the World Cup debacle has resulted in many who perceive Singaporeans as suckers. Or worse, losers. None serves my favorite sparkling water from Speyside Glenlivet anyway.

But I am rather fond of Wolfgang Puck's Cut. The management runs a very tight ship with very experienced staff who know how to banter just right with the customers. They keep a table in a private corner that I favor. Well, a restaurant of this calibre will be tight, but as a matter of individual preference, I like Cut. It's posh, but not stuffy and honestly, it's a smart casual venue. Hey, it's a steak joint afterall. They serve single malts at reasonable prices. No Bowmore. But I'm just as happy with Oban 14 y.o.

Of course the friends are gaga over the slabs of beef. They have their steaks done medium rare to blue. So that speaks volumes about their trust in the kitchen. Then they always order the super unhealthy but superbly tasty bone marrow to top it all up. That never fails to appear. I know. Beef, you think. But I've plenty to eat. The sides are awesome, and more than enough to fill my stomach. That mac and cheese is like no ordinary mac and cheese. The quality of the cheese says it all. Then, I've 2 choices for my main. They've a fabulous fillet of sole, and lobsters of either 100g or 150g for your choice.

The clincher? Cut plays Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and The Doors. :p Then there's the pleasant James Taylor, Queen and U2. None of that elevator music crap. What's not to love?

A Half Pint In The Afternoon

Luckily the girlfriends humored me and allowed themselves to be dragged out to a lunch of sandwiches at Forty Hands. We're all small eaters and am quite thankful to have people share the rather generous portions of sandwiches.

I was simply interested in the coffee. Call it an addiction! But I want to have as much as I can while the going's good. When it goes downhill, it's just going to break my heart.

It was good to see the girls. Especially the one who hasn't been around for a bit. It was very fine to see her looking well. I've missed her gregarious laughter and and witty comments. Such a pleasant thing to see her out and about.

I've no idea how alcohol got slipped into the schedule during the course of the afternoon. We were waiting around for a massage and there just happened to be a bar next door. It wasn't my idea! I've already said that I'm not the alcoholic when I'm out with anyone!

There was more alcohol ingested in the evening. Don't even ask why. Trust me, again, it wasn't my idea to head out for wine. I wasn't about to protest, of course, but I didn't start it! Somebody wanted to chill out this way for a bit. Heh.

Lurking Around Rooftops

With all the crazy crowds thronging Orchard, the Marina Bay area is thankfully sane. Rain or shine, I've hopped into most of the shops there, as well as crawled into all the bars that command a panoramic view of the city skyline. We've got some pretty lights out there.

It's official. The Bloody Mary at Postbar, Fullerton Hotel, is still the most decent of them all. The other bars do a shit job of it. I've been drinking Bloody Mary at different venues for days on end. And I can always discern what is wrong with one. Terrible tomato juice used, bad vodka, badly proportioned mix, etc. What is wrong with our cocktails? Truly vile, some. They don't even come with a tiny stick of celery.

Of course, the friends declare Singapore as the most expensive city to party in after New York City, London and Hong Kong. I have to agree. I never have an issue with spending any sort of money while clubbing in London, because it'll never be as expensive as Singapore. A gentlemen's shot of Glenlivet 18y.o for S$38? S$44 for a shot of Laphroaig Quarter Cask? Com'mon. Do we look like suckers? Please don't give us Bali prices. Have you checked out the prices of single malts in Bali? Those are downright ridiculous. Never ever drink whisky at bars in Bali.

Anyway, I haven't had really good music at these bars! Arrrrgh. Dance music, not like I know anything about the genre. Oh whatever, so long I can still carry on a decent conversation with the friends and no bouncer stop us from entering or make us stand in the queue for godknowswhatreason.

By the way, remember those Louboutins I bought in Jakarta? These are definitely made from a new mould. Bunions, broad feet, 3 hours of standing and all? They rawwwk. Friggin' comfortable. I've no qualms stomping up and down in them.

Evil Girlfriends

The girlfriends decided I was being prissy and anti-social. So part of this conversation about prissy-ness includes bitching about widely-conceived notions of tai-tai-dom, and fixing up lunch dates and activities that are slyly designed to piss me off.

Today's lunch venue, to my absolute horror, was at Imperial Treasure at Marina Bay Sands. They couldn't have chosen a better combination. At least they took the effort to ask the kitchen to prep a vegetarian version of the glutinous rice and water cress soup for me. Then they got me an abalone which was very very tasty. Heeeeee. Yes, I'm rather easily bribed.

Honestly, this kitchen of Imperial Treasure is very good. The experience and handling come through in its food's final taste and flavors. Our coral trout was steamed to perfection, maintaining its fresh finish while served in the right degree of saltiness in the soya sauce.

The only shops (aside from Hermès) I like at MBS are Zadig and Voltaire and 7 for All Mankind. If the girlfriends decide to go mad shopping, I'll just dutifully trail along after them because there isn't even a decent cafe to plonk myself at to wait. I'm thankful for the iPad, which has fast become my best friend (although I still prefer the Kindle as an e-reader) on many occasions. Today, was one of those occasions. I had no idea that the girlfriends still had Christmas errands to fulfil, and could settle all at this venue. It was almost painful trudging up and down the corridors and hop into the various shops. At least the trip was fruitful. We went back to the cars twice to unload before continuing. I love the girlfriends, but I STILL HATE THIS SORT OF SHOPPING.

After 2 hours of doing this, I couldn't stand it anymore, literally. I've done my duty! I called time-out and bailed. I went to look for a bar that opened early. I needed a very stiff drink. WAH LAU. When the man asked how was my day, I gave him an indecipherable grimace.

The Countdown to Christmas

I was a little disappointed that the schedule moved ahead by a month and I had to hit London in November. That reduced an intended 1-month break to 2 weeks. But in hindsight, I'm glad that was so because the cold front in London arrived a month earlier. When the first snow flew last December, I was sitting at Lantana Cafe having breakfast with the girlfriends. This year, the snow came alot earlier, shortly after I left. So it's perfect that we got the logistics for all humans, cargo and the Aunts' thingamajigs out of the way before the city is crippled by the snow.

While I'm thankful not to have to wrestle with the crowds, on the other hand, if London had happened as planned on 1 December, then I'd have stayed there all the way till January, and that would have been a whole lot of grins. Oh well, one can't have it all so neatly wrapped up like a Christmas package. Still, I managed to do most of the things I wanted despite a shorter trip.

Snow is awesome when I'm skiing or snowboarding. Other than that, I'm not a fan of walking about in the snow. Looking at the chaos unfolding at Heathrow Airport, I can only commiserate. Gatwick, Stansted and London City are still more operational. Hmmmmm. Blame the direction of the wind I suppose. Some of the friends and family made it in and out of London smoothly last week. Hopefully, the others will be able to fly out of Heathrow in time for Christmas in Singapore, and elsewhere or fly home to London via other routes from work trips by Christmas Eve. They're not particularly enamored with the idea of a white Christmas for the past few years. We've got parties to go to, people! The fun can't happen without you! Crossing fingers that all goes well.

Christmas Colors

I think we've all done the Christmas decorations, fake trees, real trees and are too lazy to bother with sorting out Christmas decorations at home. We're not hosting parties this year and prefer to do away with certain traditions of the season and have taken liberties for a wider interpretation for the others.

We'll admire the Christmas decorations at the friends' and relatives' homes. Some have taken great effort to spruce up the house and adjust or change the decorations for each party. Some have 'killed' their real trees already or have their children, dogs and cats break the ornaments or topple the whole tree and have to get a second or third tree for the season. They really put alot of thought and energy into jazzing up their parties for the year end festivities. I'm very happy to hang around and stare at each just to justify their wonderful efforts.

However, the festive colors are creeping into the flat in the form of a flood of corporate hampers and cards sent by loved ones which have been placed on the mantelpiece. There's a corner in the flat all the corporate gifts are placed, and that's piling up in a tall pyramid. We've been sent alot of products and foodstuff from Harrods, Fortnum and Mason, and Hediard. There're more cookies, tea and jam from the hotels, bears from Fullerton, et cetera. Some very clever business associates have sent us bottles of whisky. Mmmmm. I spy decanters, photo frames and whatnots from Royal Selangor and Tiffany & Co. The boxes of chocolates are coming in faster than I can get them out of the fridge.

Most of the corporate gifts end up being given away as secondary gifts (not the main gifts) and accessories when we head out to Christmas parties and dinners. Otherwise, we can't ever finish them on our own! We rarely recycle these as 'main gifts' unless we know of people who appreciate them more than we do!

I Didn't Get To Cooking

Done with hitting 3 stars for today's release of another level Angry Birds, I sauntered into the kitchen to wash the pots and pans. The maid was busy elsewhere in the flat and the man wanted help to peel the carrots, potatoes and whatnots. He said, "You can do this." I was thinking, "But I don't want to do it!"

I stared at the peeler very suspiciously. Okay. It didn't look like any accidents could happen. I can't use a knife except to hack, stab or slash. A peeler is safe. I've used a peeler not more than thrice in my life. So I gingerly peeled all the carrots and tomatoes he needed. Quite fun. Then after that, I ran away from the kitchen. The process of cooking these things would be entirely the man's domain.

Cooking (and baking) is one of those things I'm totally not interested in. I never cooked as a kid, and never helped out in the kitchen, except to tangle up people's feet and got shouted at to stay out. I was brilliant at annoying the people in the kitchen till they didn't want me there. Heh. I'll stick to eating.

The stomach was overloaded on food this weekend. Too much. Ridiculously so. I went easy on it today. It was just 2 bananas for breakfast, and then the man said a very light evening meal would do. WHEW! Not point stretching out all the lumps only to fill it back so soon. So the man opened the fridge to rummage around to see what we have, and made carrot and coriander soup, and oven-baked barramundi.

Dinner Across The Bridge

The friends were up for a drive across the Causeway for a zi char dinner. We had a craving for San Low's fried bee hoon. I'm no expert on bee hoon, but I simply love this version that's just so damn tasty. I wonder if they wash the wok at all. Hmmmm.

We don't bother with what's good and what's not across the Causeway, and we definitely don't go out of our way to find it. We're not foodies. We'll just stick to what we know and be done with it. Food's just food at the end of the day. If I like it, that's done. I don't need the best of everything. It's very tiring to talk to someone who keeps asking me if I've had this, had that, gone to this restaurant and that. It's quite off-putting. Your tastebuds aren't mine. What's best to me won't be deemed best in your books.

There was a ridiculous amount of dishes on the table! I seriously dig that deep fried squid and black pepper crayfish. Nobody fancied the crab here at all, so they took cereal prawns instead. They tried some wild boar stir-fry thingy. They said it tasted like venison. Well, it was probably tenderized to the pulp till there wasn't much difference in the taste of wild boar or venison when cooked this way.

We never quite remember the names of the roads or the address of San Low. We just go. The route via Woodlands is always so crowded. So we've come to prefer to hit Johor Bahru via Tuas. It's such a cheap thrill to successfully arrive at San Low each time. Heh. So this is another Christmas dinner that's awesome. No gift exchanges necessary. It's the company and time spent with one another that is always appreciated, and not just at Christmas.

We ate for 2 hours straight. Totally busted the calories. By the time we rolled out of Johor Bahru, we were stuffed to the brim. I couldn't even think about food for the next day, or the next. Thank goodness we had no huge meals planned with anyone for the next 48 hours.

Day Out At The Zoo

As students, we had all these memberships to everywhere and we made full use of them. As adults, we rarely bother, till one has kids or something, then you're obligated to do all these again for them. Okay, museums are the exception. I love museums. But I'm not fussed to head out to our bird park and zoo nowadays. There isn't much of a pull factor.

Still, corporate zoo passes are awesome for a morning stroll. Something different to do aside from meeting for brunches in the concrete jungle. It was quite the perfect weather- cloudy, breezy and not too humid. There're so many monkeys within and outside of the zoo. Wah. The man wanted to give his banana bread to a monkey who came a-begging at the traffic lights. How on earth did it learn to do that?! Eeeeks. I don't like monkeys. They're evil- in the same league as clowns and dolls.

The animals weren't doing anything much. Most were lazing. Best thing to do ever! But it also meant there was nothing much to ooh and ahh over. The white tiger enclosure was really crowded and there wasn't a point to wait for feeding time. I'm one of those who can't be bothered seeing them eat because NatGeo high definition shots show more exciting sequences.

Watching humans was also rather fascinating. I didn't understand how one could head to to zoo in stilettos to walk the length and breadth. Wedges and platforms, I understand. But strappy stilettos? Ouch. I like the zoo better than the shopping malls. There's much more for space, for one. The zoo is pram/stroller central. At least inconsiderate parents pushing prams couldn't get up to a fast enough speed to bang into other humans with that air of self-righteousness.

At the giraffe enclosure, I had a problem with a Singaporean parent who didn't think it was a big deal when her kid sneezed away from her family members and ONTO my arm. My arm was splattered with snot. The giraffes actually flicked their ears and turned ever so slightly towards my direction because I shrieked louder than a hyena. I think the lions across the pathway might have heard too. Luckily there was a sink right behind and I washed it off with soap. I asked the parent how she would feel if I had sneezed on her kid. Snot for thought.

Then it was off to a late lunch at the very old school Nam Kee Chicken Rice where we were glad they forgot 2 of our orders because we were really full and couldn't have eaten anymore. By the way, that panda isn't mine.

A Festive Dinner

We made up a table to sample the Christmas menu at Artichoke. Totally casual, totally unpretentious. The food didn't disappoint. The table was groaning with the many dishes that came out non-stop from the kitchen.

I haven't made many plans for Christmas Day or New Year's Eve. We don't intend to host any dinners or parties. The man isn't bothered either way, so I want to spend it very quietly. But I'm happy to sort out the weeks before and after with all the meet-ups that I'm excited about. So this impromptu meal at Artichoke was a Christmas dinner of sorts with the friends, made by friends.

While I loved the haloumi, mushroom croquettes and beetroot salad, the lamb kleftiko was the undisputed favorite for the night. It wasn't a heavy version. Chef Bjorn kept the gravy light and almost soupy. The boys and girls swiped the plates clean. We over-ate. Too much!!!

There were desserts. There were protests. But that warm date pudding with cinnamon burnt milk custard, almond caramel and sea salt was absolutely fascinating. Too sweet by my standards, obviously. But I did take a cursory mouthful for the finish.

The Chicken Stew

Out of the blue, we're bestowed with a fabulous Eurasian chicken stew, courtesy of a very gracious, generous and lovely lady. She's taught me much in the ways of fair business, friendship and warmth. The man and I wish to make time to visit more often besides at Christmas and her birthday! It's just very comfortable to sit and chat about everything and nothing in particular.

That delicious smell coming out of the foil was killing us! It was still warm and just right to be eaten. We had dinner scheduled, but we were determined to have a bite of that stew first! It wouldn't be right to stuff it in the fridge fresh! We were willing the lights to turn green in our favor all the way home. I kept thinking of it as a pie because of its crust!

"It's just a chicken stew", the lady said. Well, it's definitely more than just a chicken stew. It was a good one! We ate it with some pieces of brown bread. Homecooked goodness. Awesome. That gravy wasn't so much of gravy, but more like chicken soup. How perfect for a rainy evening.

The man's parents were somehow staying in for dinner. On a Friday night! They usually party harder than we do! They were just wondering what to cook when we came back with this surprise gift of a stew. They appreciated it too, and while we strolled to dinner, they polished off a good half with thick slabs of sourdough. I was most tickled that the man made a special phonecall home and left strict instructions for everyone not to finish the stew and to leave him a bit for breakfast the next morning. Heh.

What a beautiful Christmas present. Thank you, B. We is now have happy stomachs.

Sips Of The Bowmore Gold

Of The Bowmore Trilogy, the man and I love the Gold best. We don't do very well as collectors of any sort of whisky. We won't be able to keep our hands off it. We love it too much. We know this bottle of Gold will definitely be unsealed and opened one day. But we just never got around to doing it.

For some reason, the stars and the moon and all cosmos were aligned today, and we met the friends. It wasn't exactly arranged or planned. It wasn't anyone's birthday nor anniversary. Nobody quit their jobs (except me- I'll celebrate next Feb), no one died, no one had a baby, no one got pregnant; no one's getting married or divorced; nobody won anything at the casino. Zilch. There was no occasion. It was just a cool rainy afternoon where the pitter patter of the rain was almost hypnotic. It was all very spontaneous. There would not be a better time than now to open the precious bottle and sip from it.

And the bears. Don't even ask me why there're bears in the photos. They just pop up, you know. They just do, out from nowhere. Always. Of course.

The man and I never intended to savor this bottle alone. It should be done with the FaerieFolk. No point hoarding. Sharing a bottle magnifies the appreciation of an exquisite single malt. So it came to pass that at sunset, we nosed the Gold and sipped the liquid that gave us fleeting moments of a fruity paradise.

My (Almost) Daily Caffeine Fix

I admit it. I love the flat white at Forty Hands. I've not gone for 2 days straight without their coffee since December began. Nothing else quite matches up. It isn't that far a trek for me to get a daily caffeine fix. Don't know much about its food, and I still don't really care. Heh.

I've always found company to hit Tiong Bahru. If they're not into the coffee, they'll be into the food. So there's a reason to go there all the time. And I have no idea why the friends can be so free either in the mornings or afternoons to slip out for a cuppa. It must be because it's coming to the end of the year. :p

If we're there in a group, they sometimes take the effort to do different swirls for us. The other people go put sugar in their coffee and churned away the art so fast that I couldn't take photos of the different variations of hearts. If I don't have time to sit and chill, a to-go works just as well, especially during weekends which sees quite a continuous crowd at the cafe.

The flat white today was strange because it came FOAMY. Alamak. Whatever. The beans used were fine. It was still good coffee. What a civilized pleasant affair to while away an hour or so over coffee, cake (not me eating) and cool conversation.

Gajalee

One of the few things I do know about Mumbai is Gajalee Restaurant. So now that there's an outlet in Singapore, it's one of my to-go makan places for good old spices and lovely biryani.

I'm quite glad that it's located away from Little India. I like the area, but it's impossible to get to in a car. Many of the friends now hesitate to drive there because it isn't just parking that is a problem. At least Gajalee is situated in town at Cuppage Terrace, central enough for everyone to get there after fighting the traffic through the middle of Orchard Road.

I love Gajalee's prawn biryani and the basmati used. So tasty. Ahhhhhh. They never fail to satisfy the craving for flavors and spices. The deceptively small portions on the dishes could feed 4! Spread out, the piles of food were quite sizeable. 6 dishes minus the naan shared among 4 were more than filling!

Each time I take a tiny bite of Bombay Duck, I shudder. I can't get over the soft bones. I know they can be eaten, but still can't bring myself to chew them. This fish gives me the heebies jeebies, in both its live and cooked forms.

We had an invitation to head out for Chinese food. We passed. Too many people and too many conversations would go on at the table. We weren't keen on that. The serious craving for something stronger in flavor led the way to the chosen restaurant this evening, for a quieter time.

Nails, No Color

I've avoided having acrylic extensions added to the nails. The nails are hardy enough to withstand alot of whacking. When the improved version using gel came along, I succumbed. It was so much more convenient to layer gel on top instead of the usual varnish. I don't have to wait for it dry, and neither does it chip. It's perfect.

Having had gel plastered on the nails for almost 5 years, the natural nail beds have finally worn down thin and brittle. Parkour and swimming aren't the best activities to keep the nails intact. So they tear rather easily now. Something needs to be done about it. I refuse to keep gluing tips and adding gel coats to keep the torn parts together. That's not a long-term solution.

Since I've royally spoilt my nails for vanity's sake, I should look into treating them better. The toenails are on their way to full recovery. I haven't put any color on them for months. Likewise, I made a hard decision to clear the nails of color, made the final repairs to the torn pieces and the last new set of gel on them. I can't leave them bare because the natural nails are now too thin and peeling very badly. It might just hurt. So this is the best solution for the now. As they grow, I won't do in-fills anymore. They'll look kinda ugly for 3 months, but at least the new nails will grow out strong while the weak tips get filed away.

Might as well. *shrug* At least I don't have to be so gu niang when I do parkour now. I need to rehearse intensively on 3 piano pieces for the next 2 weeks. Bald nails are wonderful. No whites to be seen. I had to round the sides to get rid of the torn bits. The nail therapist was a little shocked by my decision. "Now? Why don't you wait till after the festive season? I've never seen your nails naked at Christmas for the past 15 years!" Girlfriends, I bet you've never seen my nails this way this short for years now! Nice or not? Kekekekekke.

So girls, if you're not prepared to deal with brittle and peeling nails, don't pile gel on them. Don't even start, no matter how gorgeous they look. It's one thing to admire them in their plastic glory. It's quite another to wince at what lies beneath. The aftermath isn't at all pretty to deal with.

A Lunch & A Picture

I came home, stared at the paintings on the wall, and randomly removed one. That could go into storage till after Chinese New Year. The god-daughter colored and filled in a picture for me. I wanted a space to put it up. It's now happily hanging on the wall with a spotlight above.

The girlfriend and I dawdled over a leisurely lunch at Tatsuya. 2 hours! Woots. We were in no hurry. I hadn't spoken to her properly in months and this afternoon was meant to check in and catch up. I don't bother doing phone chats anymore. Face-to-face chilling out is so much better.

Has it really been 20 years since we first knew each other? Our lives have converged and separated. We have vastly different interests and different priorities. I'm grateful she takes the effort to keep in touch, for I do so little of it. I don't like large group gatherings unless I'm very comfortable with each on an individual level. Large group gatherings aren't usually satisfying. I prefer meeting one-on-one or two or three just to have a slightly better usage of time with the friends.

I'm almost sorry that I cancelled this weekend's vacation. Anyway, it's done. Staying in town is for the greater good. 3 meetings (non work related) and 2 Christmas parties that require some semblance of dancing and singing from me. Now say uggggh.