Hitting The Books

A morning swim before the rains came was a good way to begin the day. The girlfriend was absolutely gleeful that we hit the pool in bright sunshine, and when we got out, the clouds rolled in grey.

In the fashion of typical unpredictable Singapore weather, it stormed throughout lunch. We didn't care. We were nice and cool in the flat watching E! and Style, feeling all stretched out from the swim.

As soon as the skies cleared, we went out. If we didn't, we would have fallen asleep all the way till dinner! The body was screaming for coffee. Then we hopped across to Books Actually to grab the GE11 magazine. Each time I walk into the store, I can't ever seem to leave with just one book. I always fall into the illusory trap of the brain telling the hand to pick out more, more, more!

So many lovely new books in there. I picked up plenty. Then I spied the food section. I'm not into the recipes per se, but I like the style of some snarky food writers. I also saw the cute books from The Edible Series of cheese, caviar, etc. These books are so cute! I love the writing. I spent some time trying to decide which one to purchase. I bought Potato by Andrew F. Smith, Curry by Colleen Taylor Sen and Pie by Janet Clarkson for a friend.

I leave you with an excerpt from Pie. Not at all vegetarian-friendly or helpful in the kitchen, but rather companionable.

"Mermaid-Pye

Take a Pig, scald it, and bone it; and having dried it well with a Cloath, season it with beaten Nutmeg, Pepper and chop'd Sage; then take two Neats-Tongues; when dried and cold after boiling, and slice them in lengths, and as thick as a Half-Crown, and lay a quarter of your Pig in a square or round Pye, and the slices of the Tongue on it; then another quarter, and more Tongue: and thus do four times double, and lay over all these some slices of Bacon, scatter a few Cloves, put in some pieces of Butter and Bay-leaves, then bake it; and when it is so, fill it up with pieces of sweet Butter, and make your Past white of the Butter and Flower. This Pig, or Mermaid-Pye, so called, is to be eaten cold."

Bubbles Made Me Bubbly

Last day of work- of which I decided to disappear at noon. There was nothing else left to handover to anyone. Again, walking out of the building into the hot mid-day sun brought only relief.

Do I regret this chapter? No. It's been fun, really. I can do this for a year. Maybe two years. But I don't see why I should do it. I've a choice, and I choose to walk away. My nature isn't suited for this job. I don't want to wear this superficial mask any longer or give up certain freedoms in order to excel in the job.

I went off to see a dear girlfriend and play with sweet little Bubbles who is now talking so much more than the last time I met her. It's not just about the words anymore. She understands concepts. I'm not sure what about this phrase, "Good point" that she likes, but she picked this up from my conversation with her mother, and repeated it, right down to the tone and accent. Then, she said it to her father when he came home. Heeeeheeeee.

Bubbles wanted to make me pasta for dinner, and set about chopping things up. She refused to put green pepper into her pot. She put in tons of tomatoes and onions. Awesome. This little toddler can clearly, wield a knife better than I do. Look at the photo above. She holds it with such confidence. I hung my head in shame. I can't do anything with a knife, not even to cut an apple or onion. If you've seen me with a knife trying to cut something, you'd have ROTFL at the way I handle it. Her little contributions however, resulted in real tasty pasta and salad being trotted out of her mother's kitchen.

Earlier, Bubbles had steamed egg for tea. I was eyeing it. I love stealing children's food. So the mother steamed me an egg to go with dinner too. Hurrah! She didn't put salt into it and asked if it was fine. It was perfect. I don't usually need salt in my food. I like it. Mild and superbly yummy. And I forgot to share it with anyone. Oops!

The little girl's father brought out a bottle of JW Gold Label Centenary Blend. I was intrigued. Haven't tried this yet. So I poured a teeny bit to nose and taste. It went down easy and fruity. A swirl in the mouth picked up Cardhu and distinct Talisker notes. A quick Google later confirmed it. Aside from the Swing, I believe this Gold Label Centenary Blend might just be the only other expression from JW which I like, and it's something I can recommend to first-time whisky drinkers.

Already in pyjamas, Bubbles didn't want to sleep and kept talking and talking to the mother, and walking out to alternate between grinning at me and sitting with her father. There was only one way to get her to sleep, which was to get me out of the house. Kekekekekeke. The girlfriend generously sent me home. Bubbles agreed, "Send Aunty Imp home!" She enthusiastically pattered out to wear her shoes and clambered into the car. Within 5 minutes out of the estate and on the road to my flat, Bubbles was fast asleep. Yay.

I love spending time with this girlfriend. She always has a calming influence on me. Years ago, late at night, I called her, in tears, babbling something about how horrible a colleague was, and how nasty his words to me were. She comforted me and provided another perspective to the situation which made me feel so much better. Till today, she's one of those whom I value for their views. It's not so much of the friends' advice I need. It's their separate, individual opinions that I require, in order to put together a full picture to help me to make a decision when it matters most in life.

Nerf Gun Wars

If the friends and I are to do parkour together, adding nerf guns to the mix can only up the game. The moment we latched onto the idea in January, we knew this wasn't going to be played out at the beach or in the parks. This is going to be a full-on war at someone's house where no one will get arrested!

I'm most certainly NOT going to run around with a nerf gun screaming. That is so dumb when this bunch of us is equipped with a more athletic inclination. We scream at paintball of course. That hurts man. But in our nerf gun wars, the fun is to use it for parkour and play out mafia wars, sorta. Once in a bit, we throw in precious 'treasures' as the final mission objective, or gems to be collected along the way. I've gotten a few solid bottles of Highland Park 25 y.o. Woooohoooo.

Since January, we've all been zealously acquiring a solid collection of guns and stocking up on ammunition for the weekly wars. It's been such a hoot that we've had to implement ground rules of only using guns to fire shots and not bash the other person WITH the gun or use the guns as a weapon to fight the other. Hehehehehe. I'm guilty of that too! I've stuck out a leg to trip the girlfriend who was cleverly anticipating it somewhat, so she did a little leap and cleared that. I had to run away damn fast before I got hit by this indignant woman yelling at me.

Parkour has never been this fun. Flipping over a balcony with a gun in hand is woahhhyyyy unsteady! We've embarrassingly tripped over our own Long Strikes, Long Shots and Raider Rapid Fires. The Barricade is just unwieldy, but very effective. I've managed to destroy my Raider and had to get a replacement.

After each session, we cool off by retrieving the ammo. For all those lost, they'll pop up again. For whatever else necessary, we buy and replenish. We only play at 3 houses, so the ammo stash has been building up quite nicely. We've a very admirable arsenal too. Quite a workout. Good cardio, good stretch.

I've reloaded. BRING.IT.ON.

The Table, Laden

It's kinda de rigueur to take out-of-town friends to a seafood meal before they head off. They needed something casual and something quick. So to Jumbo at Riverwalk it was. These guys are from Hong Kong, so I ignored the server's recommendations and glossed over the suckling pig, roast duck and char siew. It took me all control not to laugh loudly at her supposition of "The gwei los don't know how to eat sambal kangkong lah!" These gwei los do. They eat spicy as well as we can. Strictly seafood and Singaporean dishes.

Fried baby squid, scallops in yam rings, cereal prawns, sweet and sour fish fillets, spinach tofu, seafood fried rice, baby kailan and sambal kangkong, etc, landed on the table. Nothing fancy, just solid, well cooked food. This is the better branch of Jumbo which most of the friends prefer for its location and consistent kitchen.

Lunch was a noisy, fun, massive messy affair at Jumbo where it involved fingers and giant black pepper crabs. Of course I passed on that. The friends really loved the crabs. Awesome. I suspect that if we had more time, they would have easily ended up eating a crab each.

Noughts and Exes In Singapore!

Most glad to while away Saturday afternoon to Noughts and Exes melodic folk rock-pop. These guys are talented and so fun. I'm glad to have heard them properly at The Pigeonhole first. The other 2 venues they played at later in the evening weren't conducive to their sound, and the horrible mixing didn't do justice to the many layers and depth of their music.

Sitting warm and cosy inside The Pigeonhole beats freezing my ass off the other time at Hong Kong Park. With a full band in a chill cafe, fruit beers kickstarted the party! Always nice to see the friends and get together for good music.

I've a couple of favorite songs from their new album, especially Everything and Lovely Day. Quite radio-friendly too! The members of Noughts and Exes are super foodies. They arrived last night and by the time I saw them, they've already hit Maxwell Market for their favorite fix of Hainanese chicken rice and other fun stuff, Katong laksa and whatnots. Then they checked out Bar Bar Black Sheep today for some overpriced Indian food in a not too-local-locale. WIN. We, the Singaporeans haven't even gone round the block to eat all the 'must-eat' local food!

In fact, I know of a couple of friends who might like this band too. People who like The Postal Service, The Decemberists, Belle & Sebastian......would view Noughts and Exes fondly. CDs have been bought and will be sent out to these people very soon!

Lunch With Mrs B and Mr L

The man and I have been wanting to do this for the longest time- take Mrs B and Mr L out and feed them! I'm very fond of Mrs B. And the man, after meeting her a couple of times, he understood why. He could see that she's got the vibes of my favorite aunts, and how she's a genuine, lovely person.

Finally we managed to fix a date, and it was such an exciting time looking forward to it. In my miserable week at work, it was the bright spark that I was eagerly waiting for. And of course, as the week wound to a memorable close, I was in a more than cheerful mood for lunch. I could fully enjoy the time spent with Mrs B and Mr L.

Age gap? No. That didn't come through in the conversation, except for many points of which the man and I gladly deferred to their wiser experiences. The man and I are really quite chuffed that they don't mind lunching with us punks! We love their insights and welcome their perspectives on many issues.

I was quite focused on the matter of feeding them. There must be a continuous stream of food appearing at the table. But hey, at least we were judicious with ordering small portions and slowly built that up to the main carb provider in the form of lobster noodles! Ooof. I was so full that I couldn't eat dinner till 9ish. Even then, I ate only fries at the fast food outlet in between catching the bands at Clarke Quay.

It's so evident that Mrs B and Mr L have such sizzling chemistry together after all these years of marriage. Years down the road, that's something the man and I hope to have. It's quite inspiring to see it displayed in front of our eyes. It's the first time we talked to Mr L proper, and we love his sense of humor. The man mumbled something about getting his number to get him out on a coffee date so that they could continue the conversation which was rudely interrupted by Mrs B and I. Muahahahahha.

Friday Night Party

We, the boys and the girls, don't need to chill out at indie bars all the time, or insist on original pieces. We know how to let be, hang loose and strum the cover songs (well) too. Ummm....there were many songs we could all sing to, but we didn't know the titles! There was plenty of furious googling last night as we grinned at the friends on the stage.

There're things I can live with. There're matters I can bear for a couple of months, but I won't suffer the change to my demeanor or chinks in my principles or beliefs. I will not be drawn into this sort of conflict. Once the line crosses, it doesn't take much to make a snap decision to tactfully wind up this little chapter that I've always known to be tentative. Receiving the confirmation letter before the end of the probation jolted me out of the "I can do this" mindset. Being able to do something doesn't mean I will continue with it, or like it, for that matter. I got out of the 'should I, should I not' phase rather quickly.

The friends are more than relieved to see that I'm done. They quietly wonder how long I could continue doing this. Well, I wasn't suffering; many parts were an incredible eye-opener, and some were pleasant. But the imp the friends know, isn't a 'yes-girl'. Sitting in the middle of the bar soaking in the music and bobbing along to familiar beats, I knew I'm never meant to be a corporate rat. It's not a facade I can maintain well. Bumming around is just so much more fun. That said, my interpretation of bumming won't be the technical definition of it. I am just, the imp, free spirited and unfortunately, still fiercely idealistic.

If you think getting drunk was part of the party plan, it wasn't. It was all very civil. There were some beers and cocktails, but nothing madly gulped. I drank 1 glass of crap mojito, 1 canned tomato juice and 2 teeny bottles of Perrier, and went home at 2.30am a very happy girl.

Time For The Arts

I like our annual Singapore Arts Festival. They've been curating it rather well as we move along through the years. Many fun events- plenty of hits, some misses, but pretty decent overall. It's quite a joy going through the festival calendar to pick out performances that I want to go for. So many genres, so little time. The simple act of choosing what I want and what the friends want turns into an exciting discussion where each of us eagerly justifies our choice and try to persuade the others to come with for a certain event.

Jean Cottereau's Imagine-Toi

It was a fun-filled evening at Jean Cottereau's Imagine-Toi. I'm so friggin scared of clowns that I initially refused to go, no matter what. It's like when I read 'clown', everything in the brain shuts down. But the friends called me a wuss and dragged me there anyway. "It's not your kind of scary clown lah!"

Okay. At least he didn't come out in a horrifying red-nose-big-red-shoes clown get-up. It's so difficult to hold a solo performance, even with audience participation. The enthusiasm of the audience makes such a difference. Total respect for the dude. What a charming and endearing performance. He makes amazing sounds that are expressive, delightful and witty.

Tempest: Without a Body by MAU/Lemi Ponifasio

I remember the vivid images seen in Lisa Reihana's Digital Marae. That was the first brush with Maori art. I was intrigued and would like to see more. That's the strongest push for wanting to see the promised visually powerful Tempest: Without a Body by Lemi Ponifasio.

This would be the third and final installment in a series of works from the choreographer. I obviously wasn't disappointed. The abstract-aesthetic was beautifully presented through the movements of the angel and the monks. I walked out of the theatre in a dreamy frame of mind. The dance very very loosely alludes to figures from Shakespeare's Tempest. I love the darkness of the dance, the oppressive mood, the raw-ness of each movement, the music and sound effects that have been all brought together the awesome theme of terror in Samoa's history.

(See clip of the dance here.)

I was glad to be in a proper frame of mind to catch this on Friday. If certain decisions weren't made, I would have be massively depressed after this show. But as it was, I was more acutely aware of the themes coming through than wallowing in my suddenly non-existent personal angst. That was such a comfortable mindset to be in. I couldn't contain a wide grin as I slid into the seat of the theatre.

Teochew Porridge At The Girlfriend's

It's a busy week at work and I don't dare to make any concrete evening plans with anyone. If I could go off early, it would be prudent to rest and sleep before 11pm so that I'd have enough energy to deal with the nitty gritty stuff the next day.

Tonight, the girlfriend said to come over for a late dinner. I was hesitant. She rolled her eyes. "Just come, it wouldn't be 10pm late. Anyway, that's what your Berry is for. If you really can't, call." She predicted correctly. I was glad to leave office at 8.05pm. I reached her house in a respectable 25 minutes, walking straight into a warm hug and little tugs of the hands by her kids who weren't asleep! Their bedtime is usually at 9pm. Apparently, they were waiting up for this Aunty to come read them bedtime stories in her "funny voices", while watching Ultimate Shark on NatGeoWild. Okaaaay. I only read to them thrice at bedtime over the past year, and they remembered.

They asked me all sorts of questions about sharks- blue, bull and great whites. Aiyoh. Why do children ask so many questions! I answered as best as I could and fibbed my way through the others. They ooh-ed and ahh-ed as at the tv as the marine biologists dissected a great white in the name of science. The kids learnt a new occupation and thought it would be so cool to be a 'shark necropsy technician'. They weren't so sure about being a 'shark suit tester'. Hehehehe. Then I dragged them to sleep. Once the kids believed I was going to fall asleep with them too, their lids drooped. When my "funny voices" could incite no more response, I turned off the lights and padded to the dining room. Very hungry already! I also needed a stiff shot of whisky.

The girlfriend's quite clever- she made Teochew porridge where the dishes were easy to keep and heated up without too much fuss. I didn't have alot of appetite. This week in the office is making me feel quite lousy. It includes a severe beating to the self-esteem and created alot of frustration to quietly stand my ground because I wasn't about to publicly feel bad when it wasn't my fault that key people didn't think it was necessary to share crucial information, and still expected me to read their minds. Fishcakes and salted eggs with chilli sauce made me quite happy. Oh, the whisky helped too! Heh. By the time I kissed the girlfriend goodbye for the evening, I felt less stupid and more human.

Hanging Out At Duxton Road

One girlfriend wanted to have an authentic Thai massage in Singapore. Like, authentic no frills. In spite of our violent objections, she dragged the rest to Duxton Road to do it. Thank goodness I knocked off late today and had a legitimate excuse to 'siam' the 1.5 hours of eeeeky-ness.

I met with 2 other girlfriends who regaled me with their vivid description of their horrifying experience at the massage parlor. They were so shell-shocked that they didn't want continue after 45 minutes and went to scout a dinner place. They were going to make said girlfriend who chose this eeeeky massage place pay for dinner. Yes, the therapist wasn't too bad. Quite alright. But oh man, the smell of those oils and incense permeating that dingy horrible place was nauseating. By the time I met them, it was just a short 20 minutes before said girlfriend ended her session. She loved it. Heh.

We were disappointed to find out that Saraceno at Berjaya Hotel is closed. The hotel staff said that it's "closed for renovations", but apparently "open only for breakfast". When we asked when's the re-opening, they didn't know. Wah lau. What's missing from that sentence? Each time this phrase "closed for renovations" is bandied about in Singapore, it's kinda scary because it could mean a permanent closure.

We randomly popped into Etna Italian Restaurant and Pizzeria. We don't know anything about the restaurant except that it sounds vaguely familiar. Then we realized that it's a branch of Etna at Upper East Coast Road. We're never going to brave the parking at the east side, so might as well try out this outlet. We ordered the simplest fare to share. We knew the food at Etna would be at best, edible. But it shouldn't be so bad. It would be like all those little Italian joints that keep popping up all over the island, providing decent food without being really gorgeous.

We didn't bother with appetizers or desserts. The 4 of us are restrictively small eaters, who by chance, ate late lunches today. So only mains were ordered to share. The penne alla vegetariana was supposed to come with seasonal vegetables in tomato based sauce. That sauce was okay. But the 'seasonal vegetables' were laughable. Teeny bits of broccoli cooked yellow littered with tiny mushrooms, strips of carrot and also strips of what seemed to be celery, made up the so-called 'seasonal vegetables'. Very pathetic. But for S$18, it is to be expected. At S$24, the linguine alla bottarga e capesante fared better in terms of taste and texture. It was surprisingly decent. We rather enjoyed it. 2 girls wanted the grilled lamb rack. It came looking and smelling right. The girls said they were good. But the accompanying potato gratin wasn't like any we knew. It looked wrong- almost like cream (didn't taste like cheese) poured over baked potato ovals; definitely not done au gratin. The one thing that stood out- the kitchen didn't overcook anything. The pasta was al dente and the meat was just right. The meal was alright for a brainless night when we were not focused on the food.

Then we hopped into The Pigeonhole a couple of doors down for some cold beer and to check out its Open Mic night; mostly acoustic and wouldn't burst our eardrums if we forgot the earplugs. While the cafe isn't stuffy and feels rather airy with its strangely high ceiling in a shophouse, cellphone reception for non-SingTel users drops to near zero inside the cafe. Texts and calls might drop too. One will have to walk outside to regain full 3G capabilities. If only we have the time to pop into to this arts space / book cafe in the day to chill out, read and have a cup of coffee (and cold beer). What a lovely vibe it has. We need more places like this in Singapore.

Her Parents Cooked

The best way to end a Sunday- dinner at the friend's. Between our crazy schedules, we haven't had time to hang out this year. When I'm in town, she isn't. When she's in town, I'm out. A couple of weeks back, we finally locked down a date and fervently hoped to keep it. We did!

Her parents cooked. They went out to grab the freshest crabs. The man and I were quite embarrassed to trouble them, but they insisted. To thank them properly, we balanced out the day's meals just so we could eat more in the evening. Their efforts must be reciprocated!

I'm not overly fond of crabs and will not bother to peel a crab or queue to eat crabs. But at this dinner, protocol dictated I must eat them, and cooked excellently, it was difficult to resist. The parents could really cook. The crabs were ultra fresh. To the man's absolute delight and surprise, I kinda peeled my own crabs. Heeeeee. The shells were already cracked, not tough to pull out the meat. It's probably the second time the man has ever seen me eat crabs with my own hands.

Chinese meals are nice once in a while when lovingly cooked by the friends or their parents. Especially the soups. Our generation has been so spoilt by our parents that we still depend on them to feed us, or drive us around! To them, we'll always be the noisy 20-yr old brats! There was so much food. We tried our very best to eat lots, but couldn't avoid having leftovers. We hung out after dinner. It was great. If not for the work day that beckons an early rising time, we would have stayed later. Always good to catch up.

Another Dinner, Another Winner

I strolled through the doors of Table at 7 on Saturday evening with a lot of thrill, knowing what I wanted to eat without needing to look at the menu and looking forward to the company. I've been eyeing the ball of shallot rice so much that I planned the day's other meals and pilates routine around it, in order to free up sufficient space for ingestion of carbs. Even a work call which interrupted 5 minutes of the evening didn't dampen my spirits. It made me more determined to shove it to the back of the mind and concentrate on the company, wine and food.

This is getting to be a bad habit. Instead of running away from wine, I'm beginning to enjoy it, given the right company, ambience and conversation which isn't about other restaurants or food. Good wine, to be precise. I dislike wasting calories on bad wine. Since Ivan is determined to be fashionably late, (actually, not true, but I just like to say that. :D It's because M. and I have a brilliant practice of setting our watches minutes ahead, forget about it, and keep turning up way before the stipulated meeting time), we went ahead to make the enormous decision of having white wine for the evening with the food, regardless.

M. astutely picked a fabulous 2008 Chablis Fourshaume that went swimmingly with the flavors of our meal, sambal belachan and spicy rendang notwithstanding. It was a beautiful wine and I almost contemplated ordering another bottle midway through. Heeeeee. I'm not bothered to upload any of my photos of the food because you can hop over to see Ivan's superior set of photos from his photostream!

(Ivan's photostream- Table at 7)

White asparagus was still available and it was a good starter to layer with a cream of mushroom sauce. Then I went for a mix of Asian steamed shallot rice and grilled prawns. The sambal on the prawns wasn't at all spicy. It was piquantly tart with fragrant limes used to pound the paste, and almost refreshing. It's like a sort of citrus-sambal olek.

I forgot what Table at 7 called this dish that is effectively made up of 2 croquettes, but I know it as 'kroket panggang' (with minced chicken) and the other version with potato 'kroket kentang', and its original Dutch version of 'kroketten'. It's something that I've always grown up eating with kecap manis, sambal or simply a tiny green or red fiery chilli. Ahhh....fond memories. Table at 7 gave it a twist by matching it with tau-cheo (fermented soy bean sauce).

I love sambal. Totally. I grew up with Japanese and Indonesian food! The only thing Chinese that has influence in the kitchens is Cantonese soups, double-boiled or otherwise because the grandmothers decided that these soups are more healthy, than say, sop buntut. I've spent alot of time squatting in my grandmothers' kitchens fanning huge charcoal stoves, dragging the cobek and ulekan to and fro for the maids to pound ingredients to make sambal. Many Indonesian restaurants in Singapore are disappointing. The best foods are really found in the friends' or their mothers' kitchens. So at Table at 7, the tastebuds have been pleasantly surprised, and I really like Eugenia's elegant interpretation of Indonesian dishes and spicy sambal.

At The Bookstore

(Click on photo for a larger image)

In spite of all our fancy e-readers, we still like to flip real books and magazines. The bookshelf isn't an obsolete piece of furniture in our flat. In fact, bookshelves will occupy full walls for a long while more. To us, hard copy books are irreplaceable. We've the usual soft covers stacked out in the open, then I've my precious vintage leather bound copies quietly sitting within humidity-controlled cabinets. Books are very much like leather bags and guitars. They need to be lovingly used and properly stored.

I've no inclination to buy new books till I know for sure that the contents are enthralling enough to keep a copy. The library works for me. But as we got older, for some reason, the library stopped being a regular hangout. It isn't exactly convenient for me to get to a couple of times a week. Between the man and I, we plough through 3 to 5 books a week. Amazon and The Book Depository work for us, along with second-hand bookshops, and pass-it-ons from the friends. In this way, we can comfortably manage the quantity of books on the shelves, rather than have too many of these books accumulating in an undignified heap in a corner.

The man and I spent some time before lunch in a second-hand bookshop browsing through its shelves. Limited stuff, but some fun titles. We picked out 2 books each for the week. And no, we can't share books, not frequently or regularly because we've rather different preferences when it comes to the sort of books. No prizes for guessing which genre of books the man likes, and which is my preferred.

Missfit, The Rock Star

This is too cute not to post.

Missfit is the rescued stray who now lives in Snakeweed Studios. She's quite the rock star and the darling of everyone who drops by the studio. From a timid little thing, she has grown confident and bold. From hiding in a corner, she now struts all over the studio like she owns it. Still, she squeaks, a sad effect from being nearly strangled to death by evil people last month.

The man is discovering new sounds during his jam sessions. The kitten not only steps all over his prized pedalboard, but *gasp*, fiddles with the knobs of his precious pedals, throwing all settings into a grand disarray! Woah! The man has frowned at her and tsk-ed very loudly. She doesn't give a hoot and merrily continues. She also leaps onto his guitars when he plays. He came home and told me, "I've finally found someone more irritating than you are." MUAHAHAHAHAH. Go Missfit go!

Leonard just told us of Missfit's legendary skills of being able to grimace when the man played on the Tele, and upon closer listening, he realized it was out of tune. Even the Peterson tuner couldn't tell. Technology, you've lost to a cat. We understand that she doesn't like delays and distortions. Guys, try blues instead of prog rock! She might prefer that! The man better watch out. Eventually, that cat will learn how to turn off the pedals, if she doesn't decide that chewing the cables might have a most satisfying instant effect.

(Photos daringly stolen from Leonard Soosay)

A 4-Hour Dinner

I wasn't particularly bothered about the food. The fries were awesome with chilli sauce, as usual. Tonight, for me, the original Les Bouchons at Ann Siang Road was all about the company and the drinks. We made the date a few weeks back, and it was a dinner date I looked forward to.

It was awesome catching up with the friends. These are people I can travel with easily, through all sorts of situations, knowing that individually, we can hold our own, and as a group, handle anything thrown at us. Clearly, our acquaintance on a work trip has proven so. On that work trip, I wouldn't have kept my sanity, except for their brilliant steadiness and our hilarious conversations that touched on all sorts of random subjects. We were probably glad for one another's company. Shared misery does sort of indicate diminished pain on the individual level.

And it must be some sort of trend that the men around me love desserts. (And I don't like them at all, except for dark chocolate. Even so, I'm not crazy about it.) We (the girls) were ambivalent about desserts. We were more of like, 'whatever lor, whatever you want'. What did this man at the table do? He ordered 2 kinds of dessert, and ate most of it. Win. He really likes sweet stuff. *shudder*

Somehow, we managed to finish a bottle of dependable champagne and a rather decent bottle of burgundy which needed to breathe for half an hour. Champagne was a no brainer. The burgundy's flavors were fully released after a while, making it very smooth, layered and easy to drink. ARRRGHHH! This is not good. We are closet alcoholics. When we got ready to leave, it was 11pm! O.M.G. We hung out for 4 hours at the tiny cafe. We sure can talk nonsense. It was great fun.

Till our next meal, people.

Les Bouchons

7 Ann Siang Road

Singapore 069689

T: +65 6 423 0737

Coffee and Cigarettes

This is my favorite song from Jimmy Eat World. A pity I missed their gig in Singapore in April. I love both versions of 'Coffee and Cigarettes'- the full rock outfit that one could jive to, and this stripped-down gig.

Incidentally, this is the song that the man dislikes most from the band. This morning, I had a whale of a time putting it on replay just to annoy him. Ha.

Deliciously Yellow

After an oddly busy day at work where I forgot about eating lunch, I hustled out of office on the dot and unceremoniously plonked myself at the girlfriend's for dinner.

Earlier, she had called to warn, "I'm not feeding you a feast." I shrugged. I wasn't expecting one. Knowing her, a one-dish nasi goreng would be more than awesome. The last time I tried it, it blew my mind and I didn't want to eat nasi goreng anywhere else for months.

She made us sangria. Hahahahah. She wanted to know exactly how sangria would taste when using bad Malbec instead of bad Merlot or Pinot Noir. I was very tickled! She has decided that Malbec is a better base for sangria! Once I had enough drinks to feel sufficiently less angsty from the work day, I terrorized her cats. After a while, one decided to scratch me on the arm before acting all innocent and snuggled with me on the couch. ROARRRRR. The girlfriend is da best- she loves me enough to resourcefully grab the pair of yellow flats IN MY SIZE from Cole Haan! DOUBLE YAYY!

The moment I stepped into the dining room, I could smell the spices and the food! Except for the belinjau crackers, everything else was homecooked. All I wanted, was a heap of nasi kuning and sayur lodeh. And her amazing fish perkedel topped with home-pounded sambal terasi. The food was simply delicious. Oh heaven.

The Bloody Inverted Split

(from Google Images)

The suspended split is already very painful. That's the instructor's favorite pose for me, insisting that I should be able to do it both sides, rather than favoring one. I had to do some extreme twists these 2 weeks to work out kinks in the body. This job seems to be all about sitting in the office. I can't do that! The body rebels. So I've upped the intensity at pilates. Doing really well. This week is much better for the body, as long as I keep it moving and not stuck in a chair daily.

Then, the instructor put me on the inverted split. Earlier in the week, she showed me a photo and said, "Get up there." My eyes bulged. WAH LAU. But okay. On the first try, I already had a huge problem trying to hang off the bars looking cool, much less maneuver into an inverted split.

You'll just have to settle for this image from Google because I'm not bothered to take a photo in the studio when I'm very busy trying to regulate my breathing while controlling throbbing muscles, shivering arms and struggling to maintain a fight against gravity.

By the second time I lost my grip and fell gracefully to the floor, the instructor was in stitches at my efforts. Between clenched teeth and hands, I yelled, "So unprofessional!" Heh. We're friends lah, so she can afford to laugh. She doesn't treat the other students this way, really.

This morning, I clambered up and hung there for dear life. But I couldn't do a perfect split. Gotta work on that some more. On the left side that I favor. I can't even do a proper full split on my right normally. I'm not even sure I should attempt the right inverted! No matter. I.must.do.this.properly on the left, at least, by the end of next week!

Just A Teeny Bit

2 minutes after reading the line-up for our new Cabinet, I had to shut the door to giggle hysterically in private. There were so many terribly snide and funny comments to laugh at, and in many instances, agree with.

At 7pm, I stopped laughing at the updates coming in and went off for dinner at Hinoki, and for some more laughter. We feel that this is generally positive. Some questionable choices. But no government is perfect. We've got a relatively competent cabinet. Whether we like them or not, is besides the point. As long as they can do the job well, it's enough for me. Don't forget the civil servants should also wake up and stand firm on their scenario planning and policy-making. Politicians don't make the best policies. So let's see how it goes for the next 5 years.

Halfway through dinner, I realized the last time we met was half a month ago at Hinoki as well, before Nomination Day, to talk about the state of play in our country. Tonight, it was a good round-up as any, I suppose. We've different opinions, and in some way, our concerns affect us somehow, but for most of us, these don't particularly create an impact on our lives and remain hypothetical.

The curry puffs were a bad idea. They filled me up so much till I couldn't eat any sort of sashimi or sushi. I actually skipped those! No wonder I've been wearing loose and loos-er clothes. Had to double layer this casual dress because the cotton's too thin for harsh office lights. Still can't believe I got away with such casual get-up today! Meeting people over meals on a daily basis means I've to be really judicious about what I eat. Binge and indigestion sets in. It's silly to be stuffing my face every day. Tonight, cold tomatoes and tiny pieces of grilled fish did very nicely.

Cravings For Curry Puffs Satisfied!

The girlfriend was somehow very free and grabbed me out to lunch. I've a serious craving for curry puffs and asked if we could take a trek in the mid-day sun to Tanjong Pagar Plaza Food Centre. She was ahemmm....cool with it. Yay!

The shot of the side of the 'Hokkien Fried Noodle' stall (stall number #02-05) is unnecessary. I was simply testing to see how well the camera on this Blackberry will perform at a distance. At an average of 1.9MB per photo, it's safe to say this camera is very useful, especially in sunlight. Now I know it can capture details too.

I love the no-pork-no-lard Hokkien noodles at this place. I always up my order to S$4 for extra slices of fish cake and stalks of vegetables. No meat or fish. The stall doesn't offer either. Today, I forgot to tell them not to put the prawns in. Wasted. I wasn't in a prawn-eating mood. This stall is a great choice for pescetarians. The frying of the noodles uses prawn broth, so it isn't ideal for vegetarians. The stall's chilli packs a tasty punch. I can't ever do this dish without stirring in the chilli.


The girlfriend joined the long queue at Soon Heng Food Delights Lor Mee (stall number #02-16) to sample a bowl of its famous noodles in thick gravy. I've never eaten lor mee and have no idea if this one is really that good. It certainly looks substantial. The girlfriend said it was pretty decent especially with the stall's specialty ngoh hiang thingies and its many ingredients. Quite filling too, she said.

Kinda fun catching up over an impromptu lunch in a sweltering food centre. I'm so glad she took the trouble. We didn't have to shout too loudly to be heard over the din of rush hour office crowd. But yes, I wouldn't want to do this too often. Once a month is just about right, or whenever the insane cravings for Rolina curry puffs sprout.


After lunch, we quickly vacated our seats to fierce-looking people hovering above our heads, eyeing our table. I got down to the whole point of braving the heat to be here. A layer of perspiration has plastered the hair and clothes to the skin. Eeeeeeks. I tapau-ed 10 curry puffs from Rolina, intending to eat them tonight and tomorrow. But the announcement of the new Cabinet made me laugh so hard that I decided to gobble 2 right now. I can't stand those tantalizing smells wafting out of the box. They're nom nom nom yummy.

Tanjong Pagar Plaza Market & Food Centre
(non-airconditioned and damn hot)
6 Tanjong Pagar Plaza (it's on level 2 above the wet market)
Singapore 081006

Sweating It Out This Morning

Since I signed up for morning duties with the old folks, I had to turn up at tai chi. I really wanted to sleep in, but then I'd probably feel resentful at myself for wasting a perfectly good public holiday, and turn into a mega grouch for the next 8 hours.

Am so not a morning person, but if there're things to do, they just have to be done. Once I'm actually up, I don't mind being out and about in the sun. Blue skies and a spot of exercise make for endorphins and happy vibes.

Tai chi was a good way to shrug off all remnant sleep, and doubled as a warm-up for a spot of jumping after that. If I were to perspire, I might as well soak it all through. I didn't wear the right shoes though. No Vibrams and they were just easy walking shoes that would hinder movements. So it wasn't exactly strenuous because I strived not to fall too badly.

Met the man for a drink before he headed out for the day to fiddle with guitars. The man wanted brunch. So Forty Hands it was. I was not the least bit hungry. The old folks had fed me rather well. So I watched him devour eggs benedict while I sipped my coffee. The cafe was stuffy and it was quite unbearable indoors. There simply isn't enough ventilation at Forty Hands when tables are full; the owners still haven't done anything about it. I picked the table closest to the door and sat away from everyone else, just in case I stank of stale perspiration. Heh.

Am off to the studio for pilates then cool off with a swim. I shall cancel the session with the chiropractor this weekend. I refuse to depend on the chiropractor as a permanent solution to body aches and muscle spasms. It's always the inactivity that results in aching muscles and bones with a tight knot somewhere between the shoulders. Once I straighten the muscles out, the knot disappears. It'll re-appear every week if I don't get enough exercise going or spend too much time in front of the laptop.

Bad Bad Organization

Note to self, when I go to hipster gigs, wear boots. Heavy boots preferable. At 'The Drums' last night, there were plenty of obnoxious humans who either danced with jerky flailing hand movements, or they would happily shove you aside as they forced their way through to the stage or to that side of the crowd where it seemed to contain more space for a few more bodies.

I'm not a fan of the band. But I went along to kaypoh what it was about. St James Powerhouse is a crap gig venue. Sound wasn't too bad, but the way the management organized the flow of human traffic promised a crush at the end of the gig when the crowd would begin to leave. Due to the placement of the ground floor main bar and the after-gig people who milled around it for proper drinks, and the bouncers at the entrance/exit who cleverly thought it was a good idea to block off partial access by standing there to look menacing, there was a point where it was a little difficult to get out of the venue smoothly.

I was already miffed because the security refused to let me into the drinks' area unless I had a drinks' tag. That was the most silly thing I heard. The organizers, the security and receptionist told me different stories, but the gist was, my VIP tag could access all areas. Someone from the organizers had to come into Powerhouse to sort that out with the personnel manning the cordon because she had obviously NOT been briefed.

During the gig, people at the main bar weren't getting their drinks because there were only 2 servers versus about 100 people demanding for drinks around the bar. The rest wearing uniforms and lanyards were just standing about, refusing to take orders. When I retreated upstairs to grab drinks, the dodos at that bar told me they only served brandy dry and nothing else, not even if I paid for it. I took one look at the guests around me holding clear drinks and white wine, and pointed those out. The dodos still insisted they couldn't serve any other drink. I marched directly to the cashier's and asked the staff there if it was so. There, I received total acceptance of my money for other drinks besides the horrendously uncool brandy dry tagged to the free drink coupon.

Is it any wonder why I don't step into St James Powerhouse and its assorted bars anymore? Tonight's experience is a reminder why I shouldn't, unless there's a damn good reason for it.

Dances All Day

The friends are in town again for the Singapore Arts Festival. Our weekend started with wandering around the very unforgiving, demonically hot and cruelly suffocating Biennale venue at Old Kallang Airport. Then it was blessed relief at SOTA for the Festival's new commission- Arco Renz' 'Crack'. We watched the Cambodian dancers from Amrita Performing Arts explore the pain of Pol Pot's era to the measured enjoyment of its current-day energies, from isolation to integration.

The evening saw us stroll around the Festival Village and then park at the cafes at the Esplanade for drinks and food. Half of us eagerly anticipated Joe Bonamassa's gig and couldn't wait to hear him and see his Les Pauls. The rest of us were looking forward to Alain Platel's 'Out of Context - For Pina'. The conversation couldn't be more dichotomous.

Sunday night and I wasn't exactly dressed to the nines for a dance. Ah well. It wasn't a gala! So I wasn't bothered. The theatre wasn't full for the performance. A pity. It was kinda cool to see the 8 dancers get up from among the seated audience and stroll up to the stage, setting the tone of it all. The background music was more of background noises emulating animal grunts. In those minutes of silence amidst grunts, I was most tickled to hear the stomachs of fellow audiences growl and whine, almost in accompaniment to the grunts over the speakers.

On stage, everything is pared down to the minimum including lighting, props and soundtracks. In summary, this dance explores the self versus the crowd, loneliness versus acceptance, accepted social norms versus the visceral ecstatic. It draws inspiration from Alain Platel's earlier experiences as a movement therapist.

It was a tad confusing as the dancers also took on roles of an actor, a singer and the audience; the expressions on their faces matter as as their body movement. But this is contemporary dance. I often struggle with it the way I sometimes don't get surrealism. 'Out of Context' is similar. However, I think it throws in too much imagery and mimicry that slows the pace of the overall effect and leaves me wondering what exactly and what else is the choreographer hinting at.

I leave you with a clip of the dance to boggle your mind.

Me No Like Korean Cuisine

The man has this inexplicable love for kimchi and Korean food. I definitely don't share the fondness. He must have dated a Korean girl who could cook really well. His frequent work jaunts to Seoul resulted in him being a connoisseur of kimchi and some favorite dishes.

On a night when no cravings hit, we strolled along Mohamed Sultan Road and randomly stepped into Yayeon Korean Izakaya. The decor is spartan, and the menu is limited. Looking at the traditional items offered on the menu, the man was fairly sure they do authentic stuff. Tonight, we were only Singaporean customers. The rest were Koreans. :)))

While our bottles of soju came with itty bites of gosari-namul (bracken soaked in something...) and gaji-namul (eggplant soaked in something...), the restaurant didn't serve plenty of side dishes. Not even kimchi. I didn't really expect them to, not quite economical in an izakaya. So the man ordered a set of kimchi. He loves kimchi. I hate it.

We were a little surprised that the bulgogi jeongol (beef stew) didn't come with a bowl of rice. It had to be ordered separately. I asked the man what's the usual practice in Korea and if the izakayas don't serve rice and only the restaurants do. His reply floored me- he said he didn't know because he had never paid for food in Seoul and there were always bowls of rice on the table. Duhhhh. But okay, I've never paid for food in Korea either, and I've only been to Seoul, Gwangju and Damyang. He proclaimed the beef tender enough and the soup flavorful, as evinced by the huge empty bowl at the end of the meal. It was a large portion for 2 and he slurped it all up by himself.

I wasn't particularly hungry and had a mul naengmyeon, of which half went to the man. He said it was pretty alright. To be honest, I didn't enjoy it at all. While the flavors of vinegar and pickled vegetables in it were interesting enough, the mushy texture of the noodles weren't exactly to my taste. Even the Korean BBQ is a huge turn-off. So be it in Seoul or in Singapore, I've never understood Korean cuisine, much less learnt how to appreciate it.

Sangria!

A couple of wine shops and supermarkets later, I dissed all the labels of Malbec stocked. I told the man that these bottles priced at S$20++ each here cost only S$8 at the supermarkets in Argentina. I staunchly believe that there're no good Malbecs (for retail to the masses) in Singapore.

Those labels of Malbec that we see here in Singapore will most likely suck. They aren't brands that any self-respecting Argentine will recommend. It's not as if I know plenty about Malbec. I don't. But I've had the fortune to try the best of them, and from there, the palate is honed. The man didn't believe Singapore shops carry bad Malbecs. So I randomly picked a few bottles from the meagre available labels on the shelf and took them home for him to try.

Today, we opened up those bottles. I took a whiff and scrunched up my face. It didn't take an expert to figure out that these weren't going to be any good. Some were almost vinegar-like. Vile. Uh-oh...we have too many opened bottles on hand. What do we do with them?! The man refused to even use them as cooking wine.

Just as exciting news in the form of the announced (confirm, chop, guarantee) retirement of certain key legendary cabinet figures streamed in, the man was struck by inspiration. He figured that the Malbecs shouldn't go to waste. He went about slicing apples, grapes and oranges. SANGRIA time!!! He pounded vanilla beans and added them to the mix. And my my, horrible tasting Malbecs make a good base for sangria! 5 pitchers to be exact. A lovely pre-dinner drink! Wait, make that my all-night drink.

Afternoon In Town

I haven't stepped into Paragon for months. On the way up to the lunch venue, I was quite happy to notice a new or rather refurbished DKNY boutique. I like their casual easy minimalist pieces and many have crept into the wardrobe. It's a foregone conclusion that walking in to take a look resulted in strolling out with a paper bag filled with 2 tops and a dress.

The whole exercise in going to town was to lunch with an acquaintance at Crystal Jade Golden Palace. I like these 2 outlets at Paragon and Ngee Ann City. Said acquaintance and I have totally different dietary preferences. In this case, Chinese food is ideal, especially at a restaurant I'm familiar with. Let's just say that I'm still a tad traumatized from her insistence on having chicken rice for the last 2 times we went out in a work context. This time, I would like to eat at a place where there's a wider range of food choices.

Luckily the acquaintance eats everything. Literally. So that makes it so much easier when ordering food. The restaurant at Paragon is always willing to make me a glutinous rice in a vegetarian version- with mushrooms and vegetable stock. A fish maw soup and the glutinous rice filled me up totally. Very satisfying. I didn't need more food except to nibble at the bok choi that accompanied the pieces of sea cucumber.

I watched in amazement as my companion also took the glutinous rice, and finished up the rest of the dishes- the xiaolongbao, char siew rice rolls, porridge, and especially this dish of 6 big balls of prawns coated with salted egg yolk. I could quite safely assume that she enjoyed the food.

Made a stop at the Cole Haan boutique to grab a pair of yellow ballet flats. Alas, the boutique was out of sizes for that. Ah well. I've been wanting a pair of flats in yellow for the longest time. Whatever ugly comfy flats Tods now stock, are exactly those that I bought in Argentina, down to the soles, colors and designs. Heeeheeehee. I could have sworn that the quality and workmanship are identical, save for the brand imprinted at the sides.

Luckily the rain stopped by 3-ish. It meant I didn't have to deal with a stinky indoor pool and could swim in peace outdoors. The glutinous rice has killed my appetite for dinner. It's still merrily sitting in the stomach, effectively preventing a heavy dinner! Yay, I guess.

Table At 7

Even though there's a dinner slated next week with the friends at Table at 7, I couldn't resist hopping by before that. After reading all about it, I was sure this is a place that promises unpretentious interesting flavors in their food. This is the sort of restaurant that still excites my tastebuds, not the ones sprouting all over the island with international repute or Michelin-starred chefs.

The man went bonkers over the oxtail rendang with shallot rice and achar. We do oxtail curry at home, but rarely make rendang because it takes too much effort. Table at 7 does it so elegantly. The man was trying to get the meat off the bones with the fork and the knife. Do-able, but not exactly efficient. In the end, he used fingers and was very much happier in cleaning out the bone. The server was attentive and brought a dip bowl for the man. Very nice gesture. I love the shallot rice and am delighted to know that they serve it as a side. I'm making plans to organize personalized orders for the next visit!

We spied white asparagus and asked for it to be served with hollandaise sauce. But I could have sworn I heard the server say "oleander sauce". Heeeeee. The man wanted to try the bloody mary sorbet and tuna tartare with gazpacho. It was refreshing. I also asked for the lobster salad that was garnished with slices of white asparagus.

The disappointing dish for me was the pasta with grilled prawns and crab meat. The grilled prawns were lovely of course, juicy and well grilled, not too difficult to go wrong with. But the crab meat used was odd and lent a weird stink to the pasta. When the server brought the mains around, I could smell the faint stink, and that wasn't a positive introduction to this dish. This isn't one of the better crab meat pasta around. The kitchen probably wants to let the flavor of the crab meat through and went easy, almost weak on the sauce. It'd have been okay, except the crab meat tonight was not the most scrumptious. I didn't bother finishing the pasta. And the pasta was done MUSHY. Mushy pasta is a big no-no in my books.

We managed to get to dessert. Or rather, the man insisted on squeezing in the apple tartine and vanilla bean ice-cream. He likes his sweets. Luckily it was a small portion and perfect for 2 humans whose stomachs had been filled from dinner. All in all, I really like the food from the restaurant. Their Asian dishes are the winners, truly.

Table at 7 sits on the premises of the former Sage. I hope they do well. I've an idea what I'd like to eat next at Table at 7. The kitchen would be able to do a potato rendang, grilled vegetables with shallot rice! WOOOTS. Can't wait to return soon for more eats!

An Evening With The Girls

Dinner at home with the girlfriends whom I love dearly.

Stuffed roasted peppers, beet and caramelized onion tart, garden pasta with oxheart tomatoes, chunks of fabulous cheese handcarried from France, warm homebaked sourdough bread, a most interesting homemade quindim, and an amazing cobbler of fresh peaches and blueberries.

The conversation ranged from Ai Weiwei to the incredible Congressman Ron Paul who has been providing us with endless entertainment. Then it got sidetracked to how some of us are creeped out by Spejbl and Hurvinek while the rest adore them. Needless to say, there was an intense discussion on a SkyNet scenario, and the topic we couldn't escape from- McLuhan and 'The Gutenberg Galaxy', or what we like to call it- McLuhan 2.0.

Movies for the night were unanimously chosen to be the depressing 'Restrepo' and the refreshingly controversial '12th & Delaware', and pockets of space were found to squeeze in our honest sentiments of both.

It's a wonder how after all these years, we can still be in the same room and not explode in a mish-mash of clashing opinions. It's exhilarating to be in their company.

Pretty Colors

The girlfriend was looking to borrow an inexpensive kebaya to wear out for a dinner. But I umm.....chucked out all of mine. The precious kebayas and handmade slippers gifted by my grandmother have been lovingly framed up into pieces of art. Those aren't exactly what I call 'retrievable'.

When the other girlfriends' told me the jaw-dropping prices of their kebayas, I decided I don't want to be responsible for something that I'm not wearing. So I looked for alternatives. Kebaya tops that aren't so delicate with machine-made embroidery rather than something hand sewn, but just as pretty; batik skirts that aren't handprinted, but machine completed. In this way, said girlfriend won't feel heartache if the wine and food stains appear on the clothes.

The kebaya is needed urgently. There isn't time to tailor an inexpensive new piece. It has to be bought off-the-rack, which isn't at all ideal for a kebaya. Someone's someone's someone's cousin owns a shop selling simple day kebayas in People's Park Complex. I didn't want to know where and how. All I did was to send some specs over, and this friendly source very promptly procured it and sent the required pieces at no charge to me. All of these, done within 12 hours from time of request to receipt of clothes. AWESOME. I'll return the favor another day, in another way.

The white and blue combination pictured below is for said girlfriend. The pink and brown combination above is for her little girl to wear as a matching thingy as well! I'm quite pleased with them. In my grandmother's time, these are the day-to-day kebayas. However, in contemporary fashion, they can pass off for a themed event with a full face of make-up and hair properly done. Methinks they look pweddddy. Said girlfriend likes them enough. Whewwwww. Task completed!

New Piano

The man's Mom does the new baby grand every justice. Her fingers fly across the keys in fluid, emotive interpretations of sonatas and all classical pieces. In her hands, the piano is moulded to a beautiful character and came to life. She's a trained pianist, and better disciplined than I am.

As much as I love the antique Ibach with its well-rounded mid-range notes, I admit it doesn't possess the mesmerizing sonorous quality of a Steinway. I've been playing on a Steinway concert grand ALOT over the last 2 months, seeing I was given a free rein over those 2 particular beauties. But I can't, in good conscience say I do this piano justice. My scales are messy. I still trip over them every time, without fail. Classical and exam pieces drive me crazy. Being able to play them doesn't mean I feel anything for the genre. There isn't an ounce of passion in there.

I started on the first 3 pages of 'Rondo alla Turca' and gave up. The first full-length piece I played on the new piano was 'Autumn Leaves'. Then I went on to 'My Funny Valentine'. Much much easier on the ear. And I've gotten lazy to flip physical scores. Since I play 'pop piano', I buy digital scores and download them into the iPad. Wieeeee! So easy to literally thumb through or automate the flipping!

Only Cold Desserts Will Do

There were plenty of youtube videos to entertain us today. And of the chicken dance by a certain persona made famous overnight by his reading of the election results. Memories of having to do the chicken dance way back in school cracked us up totally.

The air-conditioning was turned on. Ahhh...blessed cool relief. I don't think any of us can survive the blistering heat this weekend without it. The dog got it right. He pushed all of us out of his way, snuggled into the couch, tried really hard to keep awake, and finally fell asleep. Sprawled on the couch, I contemplated napping too. Best way to round up a Sunday afternoon.

The friends' dad bundled us into the car and out to the club for dessert. The thermometers read 36°C. UGH. During the short walk from the carpark to the cafe, I could feel the heat from the concrete burn through the jeans. Too hot for jeans and closed-toe shoes. Shorts, summer dresses, dri-fit stuff and flipflops are the best to combat our sunny weather. Sunnies weren't enough. The girlfriend had her hat on. I should have brought my giant hat too! I wonder why people in Singapore don't wear hats more often. It's like, prudent to do so.

On a hot day like this, the only viable desserts are COLD ones. Nothing else appealed. Not cakes, brownies or an apple crumble even. We went straight for the ice kachang and cheng tng. I ordered a coffee, but abandoned it in favor of the desserts. The coffee could wait till I finish the tasty cold cold bowl of cheng tng.

Vietnamese Food

Mother's Day Lunch was arranged at Nuoc (rightfully Nước) Restaurant at Orchard Central. I like good Vietnamese food. But there's no way I'll brave the limited parking spaces and crowds in Joo Chiat on a Sunday with the parentals. Parentals are particular about that, and not adventurous about checking out eateries. So we found the very convenient Nuoc Restaurant for them.

It must be an occupational hazard. While the man and I are fairly easy-going, it's a different story if we've guests in town or taking the parentals out. I need to drill down to every detail, including parking spaces, valet, complimentary, etc, right down to the menu and waiting times. I do not like surprises in front of my guests. Luckily we recce-ed first! The parentals like the venue and the food. WHEWWWW.

For now, Nuoc Restaurant has proven to be quite decent and authentic. Service is like....well, okay, I suppose. I've learnt not to expect very much of service in Singapore restaurants. I've been very pleased for these couple of times we've had meals there. The man loves the pho. He likes the stock and how they use proper beef cuts. At S$20++ for a full portion of the beef or chicken pho, it's generous enough to be shared by 2 persons. The rest of the food has been consistently good. So there's reason for us to return.

I like how the restaurant doesn't stinge on the sauces. They lay out sauce bowls with every dish so that if you like, dip every other mouthful in them and multi flavors are lent to the food. I love their fresh spring rolls and fish cakes. At S$5.50 a piece, it's one of the better made rolls in town. I love it. 2 of these could make a meal for me on tiny-stomach days.

Our (non) Polling Day!

Even though we couldn't vote, no reason why we couldn't join in the fun by tagging along with the friends who could vote. Election parties were going on all day and night! Armchair commentary is no fun on our own. Best to round up people to do a sort of group-think and scold random people. The sun blazed fiercely today. It's too hot and humid to be doing anything outdoors except for swimming.

I've never voted before. As long as I don't move out to someplace further, I'm probably never going to vote in this life as long as the GRC system stays tightly in place. So excuse me if I'm excited about voting. It's serious business to me, and I really can't help rolling my eyes when people ask me "what's so exciting about it, and why do I bother". My replies have been short and almost brusque, "Because it is, because I do." There isn't a point in explaining further.I don't care that they don't care. I don't care if they do.

We finally have decent popcorn in town! What's a party without good popcorn? Early in the morning, we trooped out to Garrett Popcorn to buy different flavored popcorn in jumbo packs to munch on. Junk food all day FTW. But there was proper food at lunch too. The friends' parents fed us well before driving out to their polling station. We put on the stopwatch. From the time they walked through the gate, queue to vote and come out, it was exactly 8 minutes. WAH. So fast! Rather anti-climatic. But good. Can faster crawl back into air-conditioning in the car and back in the house. VERY HOT AH!

The next half of the excitement will come tonight, in the form of announcement of results. There's going to be live telecast on television and radio, but at the rate it's going, I'm quite sure that the online media and sources will be more effective than waiting for tv and radio to officially present the results in fancy formats.

My Tastebuds Are Bored

After Mono's rather subdued but beautiful gig, dinner was in order. It's quite a chore sometimes to think of what to eat and where to eat. I've this recent aversion to restaurants with white-linen-clad tables. I don't need to have 3 meals a day at restaurants.

I'm not even interested in checking out the latest raved-about restaurant by French celebrity chef. I'm not big on French cuisine. I didn't enjoy the meals at his restaurants in London, Paris or Hong Kong. I'm certainly not going to be impressed by the set-up in Singapore. Honestly, all the tastebuds want to have, is Peruvian food, and oh, those yummilicious sincere plates at Table at 7.

So Geylang again it was for dinner. I checked up on recommendations for food in the area, and while I'm mildly curious about their flavors, I'm NOT KEEN on the waiting time, as warned by bloggers and friends. I'm not one who loves crab enough to wait for my food for 45 minutes. The man loves crab, if he wants to try it, fine. Which is why I made it to Melben Seafood, once. I dislike it intensely. This applies to Sin Huat Seafood Restaurant's waiting time too. When I found out how long it would take for the food to arrive at the table, I'm like, screw it. All these crab places are ridiculous. I don't even like crab that much. I've never peeled a crab in my life. Not about to start. No matter how good a bowl of crab beehoon is, I'll never be able to appreciate it enough to justify the waiting time.

We randomly drove to Geylang Lorong 37 and stopped at Teochew Porridge Rice Sin Hock Heng. It looked like it opens till late on the weekends. At 11pm, it wasn't crowded. Yay. Did that signify bad food? I didn't care. At most, it would give me the runs. What did I know? It was basic and very decent. The man thought it way better than our usual hotel's Teochew porridge buffet.

The vegetables were tasty, but a tad oily. Didn't like the oil used either. Weird flavors. So no more than a bite each. All I decided to eat lots of, were the salted egg and porridge. That salted egg was a good one. Not overly salted and of firm texture. Most satisfying.

To Geylang For Food

I was hit by this massive craving for something local for dinner. Street food will do fine. (I swear it's nothing to do with busting the credit cards on net-a-porter, Neiman Marcus and Saks) It wasn't too humid to sit out in the non-airconditioned eateries. After a couple of texts and tweets with Linda, we found out that good Hokkien mee is to be found at Geylang Lorong 29, next to the Chinese satay stall that sells pork satay. Okay, very good. No names needed. Just go. Sure can find one.

We don't know anything about what stall or how or whatever. I've never bothered reading up about makan places in Geylang. So whatever. Get directions, will go bumble around. Yes, we got there quite easily. No sweat. (pun fully intended) Geylang is bustling of course. It's colorful, vibrant and full of character. It's alive. It's the one place that I always feel like a foreigner. Not because it's a red light district, but because for some reason, each time I'm there, Singaporeans are the minority nationality in the area.

Dinner was sorted out at Kwong's Satay (光沙爹) and Swee Guan Hokkien Mee (水源福建面). The man was like, "PORK BELLY SATAY! I WANT." It was a minimum order of 5 sticks. I got him 5 sticks without the ketupat. All his. He was in love with that pork belly satay. He swore it was tender and flavorful, best complemented with the satay gravy that would probably be some secret family recipe. Just how good, you'll have to ask him. He ate 2 sticks of the otah from the same stall and tapau-ed 10 sticks home. I was interested in the Hokkien mee and nothing else. That Hokkien mee was wet and awesome. I really hope that they don't use lard. I don't care how and why it's good. I can't discern the minute differences of how a plate of noodles is better than the other. I refuse to go into 'wok-hei', fried over charcoal, whatever. I just lump both into the category of decent-edible, and slurp 'em up.

While I've learnt much Hokkien this month ('kee chiu!', 'tur kwa', 'boh tua boh suay', etc) it's insufficient to catch the jokes still. At Lorong 27A thereabouts, our phones picked up someone's wifi named 'Son of the Turtle'. o_O I can pronounce it in Cantonese, but I don't really know what it means. It should mean something in Hokkien, but I've no idea how it's pronounced or what exactly it means either. Ummm.....would anyone care to contribute to my growing vocabulary of Hokkien terms?