Choosing Bread

One of mundane errands I like to do is to look at bread and decide which ones to go into the stomach. I'd make a special trip out of the house just to buy bread. It's like going to the bookshop- exciting! I love bread. You've no idea how much bread I can eat. It's probably my main source of carbs, after I've controlled the pasta intake. For the now, next to 'Something To Go' at Regent Hotel, 'Cedele' is another convenient bakery I hop into to stock up on weekly supplies.

Well, I suppose I could make bread at home. But since I've no interest in doing it, I'll stick to admiring and buying breads. My girlfriend churns out loaves of bread every week for the family. Different sorts. She grabs recipes off the internet and has given me a couple of hot-outta-the-oven Guinness loaf, foccacia with pesto and mozzarella, gluten-free sundried tomato bread, cracked pepper and figgy bread, artichoke foccacia and just about foccacia everything. I jokingly told her I'd buy from her. And she seriously told me that while she won't deliver, I can just take them if I'm over at her place. WAH. I'm not going to do that!

Even though I know the bakery's selections of bread, I can spend quite some time in the bakery to mouth 100% Wholemeal Pan Loaf, Raisin Wholemeal, Wholemeal Linseed.... Heeeeee. They just sound so attractive. I want to eat them all! One plain loaf and a sweet (dried fruit with little sugar) version are usually procured, depending on the menu for the week. At any one time, our fridge stocks alot of cheeses, soups (mainly mushroom, apple and pumpkin or curried pumpkin) and dhaal. The breads go swimmingly with those.

Anjappar Authentic Chettinaad Restaurant

After the usual rounds at Tekka Market and done with the groceries, the weather, though cloudy, held. So the girlfriends and I decided to walk out further to Race Course Road and into Anjappar Authentic Chettinaad Restaurant.

We've eaten here together and separately countless times. Today was the first time we ordered the prawn biryani. No one had ordered it before on other occasions. It was quite terrible. I think it had alot to do with the prawns they used. It didn't smell appealing and taste good. We sent it back and didn't bother to replace it.

The vegetable biryani did tons better. Wheww. It tasted like the restaurant's usual standard. Fragrant and tasty, I love to slather curry, dhaal and whatever over it. Very difficult to have a meal in an Indian restaurant without having rice. The rest of the dishes that came along were alright. With aloo gobi masala and other vegetables, 4 girls easily finished the rather sizeable pot of biryani. Most satisfying. Not desserts. Walked across to the other side before hopping into the cars.

Without being too full in the stomach, we went for a slow swim at the club where it was blissfully empty. The water was cold! Brrrrrr. But nowadays, I swim in longs, so it wasn't so bad after the first 2 laps which would always be a sprint to get some heat circulating in the bones. It must have been the carbs or something, but I swam a little longer than usual, relishing in the strength the muscles felt as I cut through the water. Awesome.

Salam Aidilfitri

We totally admire our Muslim friends for their discipline and steadfastness during the month of Ramadan, and today, we wish them 'Salam Aidilfitri!'. We were also generously invited to 2 lunches hosted by different families.

These lunches were held at the friends' mothers' houses where huge spreads of fabulous nasi padang and desserts of kuih-kuih and pulut hitam awaited the hungry, and the greedy. We were definitely uber greedy. Like bad pennies, we turned up at the first house at 11.45am. :P Then we arrived at the second house at 2.15pm with plenty of stomach space for seconds. Heeeee.

The friends' mothers, aunts and grandmothers cook SO WELL. They began cooking before dawn, or probably yesterday so that the rempah and flavors could settle in. The best Malay and Indonesian food are always found in the home kitchens. We're so lucky to have tasted them today. Homecooked spreads always taste this much better than the supposed best nasi padang and kuih kuih available commercially. O happy sigh. I definitely don't need dinner anymore. I ate all afternoon. Totally overdosed on nasi lemak, sambal-everything, rempah and all things edible. Awesome. BURRRRRP.

Yes, to the guests and non-Muslims, Hari Raya Puasa is partly about the food. In other parts, no, it's really more than the food. It's a privilege to be invited to join the cosy celebrations, to get to know our friends a little better. We're glad that they've graciously opened up their homes, and hearts to us. So to me, this is what the festivities are about. We ate, we laughed and created memories of another happy day.

Quaich Bar's 4th

We all made it to the 4th anniversary celebrations of Quaich Bar, a watering hole many of us favor for its casual vibes and convenient location. It's a place where I've sat alone countless times to sip a dram and chill out after terribly stressful days at the office. It's not a place where we get drunk. So over that. It's a great venue to have a drink in (stylish) berms and non-ratty flip flops.

Bowmore 15 y.o :: Bunnahabhain 16 y.o :: easy floral bottles of Melchers white beer :: Scottish smoked salmon :: Scottish Loch Fyne oysters (Great job with the shucking, B!) with drops of Bowmore 12 y.o :: fresh crunchy salad and grilled vegetables :: sashimi platter :: shitty bands from the 80s and 90s :: Howard Jones :: Too Unlimited :: Belinda Carlise and The Go Go's current reunion tour :: lost my voice shouting over the 90 decibels conversational volume of collective humans ::

To another good year of exciting news and single malts, my dear friends.

Iodine

I'm not sure I like stories with a psychological slant. It plays havoc with my mind. Each time I read, I sink into the world of the particular book. This is the mistake I keep making when picking out titles from the man's bookshelf. His books are not meant to be sunk into. If I do that, I just get a terrible hangover after.

Haven Kimmel's 'Iodine' is rather disturbing. It's an emotional rollercoaster. At the end of it, I feel a little depressed, at all-that-could-have-been for protagonist Trace Pennington who has become Ianthe Covington. The woman is unable to free the shackles of her past. Repressing it doesn't help and when jealousy and questions in her present state stirred the hidden layers, her sanity breaks. In the end, her marriage to her literature professor Dr Jacob Matthias, which seems horrifying at first, unravelling what little sanity she has. However, in the end, this marriage becomes her safe house.

Steeped in Freud and Jung's dream sequences, Trace/Ianthe's world is exasperating. Add the Greek references to it and you'll be completely confused. It gets heavy going at times. However, the writer's meticulous attention to details makes this a most interesting read. It's quite a different treatment from Haven Kimmel's almost hilarious 'A Girl Named Zippy'. Written memoir style, Zippy is blissfully innocent to the miserable-ness of it all.

'Iodine', it isn't meant for easy reading. It's meant to rustle the reader's emotions so that at all times, one reacts to or identifies with Trace/Ianthe and all her insecurities, fears and even the hallucinations. The reader spends the rest of the time trying to decipher the protagonist's muddled world, wondering if she's mad-smart, smart-smart, or the author's simply pulling a fast one over us with the heavy fleshing out of psychological theories. While I won't pan this book, I hesitate to have it put forth as 'brilliant'. I'll leave it as 'interesting' and 'headache-inducing'.

"No one ever noticed that she had a seizure disorder? Transient global amnesia, that she was completely disassociative, she probably hallucinated, lost autobiographical details. You?" Trace thought he was turning toward Jacob. "Have you noticed anything unusual about your wife?" // Jacob sighed. "She sleeps with her eyes open. She has terrible nightmares and can't remember the content. She sleepwalks, she talks, she wakes up in the night convinced I'm going to kill her. Runs from me, hides. Some part of her is convinced I killed my first wife, Rita, who divorced me, just because I don't know where she is."

Good Old Grill At Kazu

After playing 'catch' with Kazu for weeks this month, the friends and I finally got a date when they're not closed (1st, 7th - 9th, 15th, 22nd and 29th) and we're free. Nice to meet the friends and chat the day after we went to the polls to elect a new President for the country. Interesting to know what the friends thought about it and what made them tick. There aren't many humans I want to discuss politics with. These are some of them.

The results aren't unexpected. On this table, the votes were split too. Before polling day, we already didn't like the idea of how the fight would boil down to TT or TCB. Some are clear about their vote for TT or TCB (or otherwise). I didn't feel strongly for either. I, wanted neither. I wanted none of the 4 candidates. No matter who won, I couldn't care less either way. After the vote was cast, the updates came through online. I wasn't glued to it though. Went to sleep at 1am without bothering to watch a certain crappy official news channel that hasn't learnt the value of better programming or up its quality of live reporting since the general elections in May. On the Sunday morning, I didn't wake up to disappointing news. I woke up to normalcy. The bitter brew of coffee tasted the same, very welcoming.

We got a nice tiny corner for our table of 8 and spent 2 hours chomping down the grilled sticks. Meat, seafood, vegetables, appetizers, sanma liver... practically most things on the menu, skipping the bacon-wrapped stuff. They had chicken hearts that evening. Still bloody. Oh that smell. ARRRRGH. The friends merrily ordered everything in multiples of 6. There were ALOT of sticks left in the tube after we plowed through the meal. The cold tomato was delicious, but so pricey. At S$15 per tiny tomato for its current 'seasonal' price, we loved it enough to order 8 of those.

I wanted all of the vegetables on the menu. I got them. The one thing that Kazu is that the chefs are rather heavy-handed with the salt whenever we opt for that on some sticks instead of sauce. Man, they really pile it on. I keep having to dip the sticks in the tea just to rid it of the salt. It ain't just me who's got a low tolerance for salt, the friends concur too. We keep telling them, "Less salt, less salt please!", but it obviously hasn't been heard.

For some odd reason, no beer was ordered. Everyone went for iced green tea with the greasy food. Before calling it a night, we went into a random pub at Tanjong Pagar for a drink...well...2 pints each. We were not about to be like SOME other friends who went to SOME bar at Holland Village and downed 43 pints of Guinness, on tap, of course. They drank the bar dry of that one drink, literally.

The Man Likes His Desserts

After the most delicious lunch of homemade moong dal ka cheela (mung bean pancakes) at the friends', we hit Culina for a spot of grocery shopping. We wanted heirloom carrots and tomatoes, as well as witlof white for dinner tonight. We were in luck to have fresh hazelnuts stocked on the shelves! Yay.

After picking out the beautiful fresh greens, it was to Jones to a browse and perhaps a cup of coffee if there were tables available. Sundays are usually crappy for coffee as the whole world seems to descend upon all available coffee places. So the body adjusted accordingly. I'll either settle for mediocre coffee or not have it at all. Coffee at Jones ain't great, but it's decent. There were seats available and the man ordered a huge slab of red velvet cake for tea. I rolled my eyes. I had 2 tiny bites and he polished off the rest.

Well. The man loves his sweets and desserts. I bet you he must be secretly disappointed that he's got a girl (me) who can't bake to save her life. Not just that- I absolutely HATE baking (and cooking), and the baking smells never fail to induce nausea and ultimately, a bout of puking in the toilet. (Remember how I blew out the oven the last round after baking those ummm....mookies?) I've learnt to stay away from the girlriends' kitchens when they bake. Those smells, aren't divine to me. Similar to what a really pungent durian does to me, I gag.

Luckily for him, he's got a BFF who can really bake. She plies us with desserts all the time till the fridge is always well stocked. She gave us a batch of fudge brownies the other day. Rich and rather sweet, I could only do a tiny square. They went well with cherries and strawberries. I had mine without ice-cream. The man insisted on having his with a scoop of Tillamook's vanilla bean. Sweetness overload!!!

Just as we ran out of the brownies, one of the girlfriends handed over a box of 'chocolate pudding thingy'. What good timing! She called the contents of the box 'ugly'. She said the pudding looked fine in the bowl, but when scooped out, it became messy squares. Her instructions were to scoop it out and just eat it with the eyes closed. It was a sort of pudding...so we tried it with slices of golden and green kiwi.

Even though I don't have a sweet tooth, I'll always have a big spoonful of the homebakes simply because the girlfriends has taken the effort to make them, and they don't taste like crap. :P Tasting a bite or two instead of having the full item is quite satisfying, whereas the man needs to have dessert. When eating out, he gets mighty mopey each time I decline dessert. Hahaha. That's why he likes eating out with the friends who'll always be up for sharing a couple of interesting dessert items. It's always the man who ends up eating the rest of the box before I even remember that there're still sizeable chunks in the fridge.

Casa Tartufo

Situated in the middle of a shopping mall, the almost a year-old Casa Tartufo has quietly been our choice for many meals these few months. So far, its food has been consistently delicious. Always obliging to our numerous odd requests in the dishes, I'm quite pleased with their service. While it's supposed to be fine-dining, it doesn't feel prissy and gives out a slightly more casual vibe as conversation here tends to be louder than usual as most people seem to dine in groups.

The French girolle (chanterelle) is in season. Casa Tartufo was happy to do a fry-up of scrambled eggs with the girolle and tomatoes. Upon first taste, these scrambled eggs were atas as could be, and were like no other scrambled eggs had ever been. They were totally knock-my-socks-off delicious.

Oddly, I've never ordered fish here, not even to share. They've the usual black cod and seabass. They look fine on the friends' dining plates. But I've not tried it. The pasta has always caught my attention and the tastebuds don't feel like having something else. I like my pasta easy. Easy pastas are the toughest for any restaurant to make. Quality ingredients are a must. I'm quite fond of their capellini done cold with sea urchin and bottarga. For this evening, tajarin topped with black truffles was lovely.

If you order the lamb osso bucco on the menu, do not expect it to come with the bone. They somehow changed their recipe to something that isn't exactly the traditional osso bucco. It comes in pretty round rolled up pieces full of rosemary flavors. Dainty. Roast lamb still, but not quite the osso bucco I know. The friends thought the meats here as 'dependable', and make for good mains each time.

Voyage Night Festival 2011

There's a whole series of events gathered for showcase during the Voyage Night Festival organized by the National Museum. Happening over these 2 weekends, there're film screenings, exhibitions, installations, roving and stage performances of sound, art and voices...etc. I eagerly downloaded the schedule from the site and marked out what I wanted to see. In the end, my calendar was blocked out all of Friday night for it. :)

It wasn't teeming or suffocating with human traffic in the area. I suspect the various events in town and the Jacky Cheung concert took a portion of the crowd away. Wheww. Good for us. Less people to fight with. Merrily crossing between Stage A and B at the SMU campus, and the museum, I thoroughly enjoyed the excitement and vibes of the night. Rain threatened the open-air stages, but somebody did the job of steadying the onion and chilli- the skies held. Gorgeous photos of the various performances up at the National Museum's facebook page. (Read more over at superadrianme's post on the performances.)

I'm quite thrilled because I successfully dragged the man along to expand his musical absorption beyond rock, metal and post-rock, and his darling Tori Amos. Hah. Prepared for a humid night out, we hydrated, dressed light and jumped smack into the crowd. For once, I squeezed past the humans right to the front of the stage. I know, at rock gigs, I'm not this 'on'. :P

We caught so many wonderful acts. They're amazing. The haunting thirds of the folk songs from Bulgarian Eva Quartet, the absolutely entertaining and breathtaking movement of Belgian Theatre Tol, the melodious tunes of Goa-Portuguese Sonia Shirsat in Mundo Fado, the cheerful reverberating scapes of Georgian The Shin with Black Sea Fire, lovely exotic sounds of Iranian Niyaz... plenty plenty. I like them all. But it wasn't difficult to select a favorite. Niyaz comes very close, but my pick is the charismatic smouldering and expressive Balkan Oana Cătălina Chiţu & Bucharest Tango.

This show is especially interesting not just because of the vibrance of the tango. It's also particularly telling of turbulent period in Romanian history. Since the Mineriad in 1990, the perceived decadence and bright lights of Romanian tango is now seeing a revival after almost a century of ahemmm....repression under the austere Communist regime. It's intriguing how the music didn't die, but has been carefully tucked away in the rural lands and memories of the people, preserved for a day when it's safe to sing aloud again.

Oana Cătălina Chiţu & Bucharest Tango put on a joyful performance. The singer and the band complemented each other perfectly. Such merriment to hear the instruments sing to each other. The musicians didn't just mechanically play; they had so much camaraderie with one another. Oana Cătălina Chiţu's rich vocals brought Romanian tango and the romance of the pre-World War I era to the city. I love her voice and danced a little. The humans watching were most boring. I didn't understand how they could have stood still and not even sway to the passionate and poetic beats.

Like the bandoneón in emphatic Argentine tango music, the accordion features largely in the sounds of Romanian tango. Tonight, Bucharest Tango's Dejan Jovanovic wielded his accordion with mastery, playing both lead and follow to the cimbalom, violin and guitar. I like him. It explains the many photos I took of him. Heh. He played with mirth and a full range of emotions, making him absolutely fascinating to watch.

Oh, please do make time to pop by and watch these performances if they appeal. It's an amazing, exhilarating show. Sweaty and sticky, all of us totally enjoyed the night. I went to bed with a smile and a head full of music. Today, I'm still on an adrenalin high, and in a little bit of a rapture.

Cafes All Day

After a rather invigorating session of pilates in the morning, it was a quick trot down to Jones at Dempsey to meet A and Beverly for breakfast. Somewhere spacious and airy. The cafe was packed, but we found seats in the corner. Nice.

A long overdue date! Now that everyone's back in Singapore, it's nice to get together, chat across random topics and catch up. Both girls are oozing radiance. They're positively glowing! Probably fab gym sessions and that lingering vacation luster. Unfortunately Corsage was completely flooded at work and couldn't join us. Next time, babe, lunch break! We've even picked the venue. I'd have loved to join B at her Powerplate session except that pilates in the morning totally zapped me.

The girls ordered eggs on toast and mushrooms. The bread looked yummy. Although I really wanted that too, the endorphins had kicked in. Usually, that means a light meal after. The stomach simply refuses to have anything heavy. Not even coffee. So a bowl of muesli it was, with freshly squeezed juice.

All too soon, Beverly had to retrieve her son and go for lunch and Powerplate class. Without concrete plans, A and I wondered what to do after. We weren't interested in the malls and the cinema. We weren't dressed to walk or anything. But that's the beauty about friends. We simply relished each other's company. It's lovely to have A back for a couple of months before she goes off again. I loved the drizzle that accompanied the day. It made for cool temperatures and a generally happy mood.

My caffeine craving sprung up. A hadn't been to Loysel's Toy and wanted to check it out, drizzle notwithstanding. We sat down for quite a while. A wanted the lemon tart and warned me that I was not to take 2 bites and then push the rest to her to finish. What?!! I no like desserts mah. Of course whoever wants it should finish it! Hmmmph. I took 4 bites okay. It was a not-too-sweet lemon tart.

For Her Day Out

Took an afternoon to take the maid out to recce the specific train and bus routes she wanted to know, do an extra nice haircut at the salon, and grab some new clothes for Idul Fitri.

I normally dislike shopping and wandering through the malls between meals. It's not my first choice of activity. There's nothing for me to buy on a daily basis, groceries notwithstanding. I find no fun browsing through the shops to look for something to buy. But this trip out, I didn't mind it since it was for the maid's benefit. She definitely enjoys shopping more than I do.

She excitedly browsed through the racks, asking me what might look nice on her. I wasn't going to do the usual shrug and "whatever you like". Taking her out wasn't a chore to me. It was something almost fun. She obviously had looked forward to this afternoon; I didn't have to be a spoilsport. I decided to go along, nodded and shook my head to her picks. She wears jeans often. So for Idul Fitri, she was tempted to do the leggings' look. I encouraged her, definitely leggings. Uniqlo sale- S$9.90. Perfect. She would feel pretty in leggings and a dress.

She isn't a friend; I draw a very clear line between employer and employee, but it's my duty to look after her for the tenure she's in our care. Managing staff isn't easy. Having grown up with nannies and maids, I'm fairly used to their wiles, hard work and psyche. The issue of key performance indicators aside, managing staff on the home payroll is quite different from managing staff in the office, but the fundamental and basic management style remains the same.

We went around to the shoes. She picked out a pair of platform wedges that even I raised my eyebrows at. I couldn't walk in these. She usually wears flats. I asked, "Are you sure?" So I made her walk a couple of rounds to get a feel of it. "It feels okay." She grinned. So long she was certain. The wedges feels rather comfortable actually, except that I don't know how long she could wear them for. Anyway, she would bring out a pair of slippers just in case they hurt the feet after a full day of walking. So the pair of rather pretty and seemingly functional pair of shoes came home with us.

Hatched In The Evening

I love my eggs done whichever way, and whenever in the day. Eggs at dinner are great. So it was off to Hatched to catch up with the peeps who've been running (and going to run) all over Asia. My very first visit to Hatched. For some reason, I've never hopped in since it opened. The prata place next door has always drawn us over.

It was a great evening for a chat. Since we were in the mood, we traded ghostly tales too. I was just greatly amused. On all my travels, save for one odd incident, I've never experienced anything eerie, disturbing or scary. I love browsing through cemeteries and . Dark corners and silence don't scare me. Humans are scarier. Seriously. It made for fun talk though. These peeps are awesome. Remind me not to gossip about certain humans just in case we run smack into them immediately after and kena gobsmacked. Heeeee.

I swear the men around me quaff more desserts than the women. As exemplified by tonight. The girls were completely like...'whatever' when it came to dessert. We didn't even bother finishing it. We picked at the bananas. Muahahaha. The men drizzled lotsa maple syrup over the dessert and slurped it all up. When the 2 plates of desserts came, I nearly laughed out loud. On that waffle, there were 3 sad blueberries. Aiyoh. 3, huh! That was not even a sprinkling. Okay...I can clearly see that the eatery is counting the costs.

Crockery

The girlfriend asked me what I'd like for tea, so I told her that I would have whatever her little girl was having. Made for easy preparations.

The omelette came on a pretty plate. It caught my eye. I've always liked crockery of a certain age, and the color and design of this plate don't look contemporary. I flipped it over and was thrilled to see its history.

The girlfriend shared that it's a plate handed down by the grandmother to the family. How very nice. It put a huge smile on my face. I haven't really asked the girlfriends. But I think many have stored seriously historical dining sets at home. I should barge into their kitchens and demand to browse through their collection. These wares are simply beautiful.

This plate is from Johnson Brothers. I like them. I've got sets of their china plates and dining sets in storage and carefully tucked away at home. Same goes for the silver and china from Cooper Brothers and Sons, Portmeirion, Duchess, Miles Mason, Burleigh, Churchill. These are the day-to-day china that my grandparents and their parents once used alongside Noritake, Peranakan and Chinese porcelain. One could go on an acquisition blitz for these plates. They're not prohibitively expensive, but their significance (and possibly value) is higher when there's family history involved because of the fact that the beautiful plates are common daily objects used in everyday living.

A trace of colonial history and the people's living habits during that era can be gleaned from these crockery and cutlery. I'll say this, like an old lady, that they certainly don't produce quality like they do in the 1800s and 1900s. I could see the hallmark of pride and fine quality in the production of these china and silver. Decades, and almost a century later, with nary a chip, these plates, soup bowls and silver are now mine for keeps and I treasure them very much. :) Half are in use currently, and that's probably a huge impetus for me to personally wash them instead of asking the maid to do it, and those are definitely not meant for the dishwasher.

Idli!

We go to Little India for its food at least once a week, if not twice. For the past 2 years, Tekka Market forms our alternative shopping venue for weekly groceries. If our friends' mothers are inclined to cook and have us over for the weekend meals, then we skip Little India altogether! Indian food features largely in our diet. At home, we keep dhaal in the fridge at any time. For a non-Indian, the man can do quite a good pot of dhaal. Heh.

So we had a craving for idli, and didn't bother googling to find out where and how to get the good ones in town. We thought we knew the eateries at Syed Alwi road, and still a quiet and good idli shop escaped our notice. It took our friends from New York to point us to Murugan's for idli. At the first opportunity, we trotted down to Little India in anticipation of good food.

We stepped in early on a weekday and were duly impressed. These idli are so good! For once, they're not dense, and come properly light and fluffy! Loved the spices and chutney- tomato, mint, coriander and coconut! Yumz. With a bowl of not-too-watery flavorful sambar that never ran dry because the nice servers kept topping up!

There were the uttapams. We ordered a couple to share. Absolutely delicious. I like the onion uttapam. Then, the dosai came out. I loved that masala dosai. Potatoes, and pumpkins within! Pumpkins. Yummy! Forget the carb count. Eat first. I was SO greedy, ate up one that was meant for sharing, and had to order another one for the rest of the humans on the table. Heh. While deciding what to eat, all of us selectively tuned out the word 'ghee' on the order chit.

A Guinness Please, Half-Pint

Now that pride and joy of public housing has sprung up a few streets away, in a strange but pleasing conjunction, the Duxton area has somehow re-invented to become something hip rather than seedy. The vibes have changed. For the better I think.

Hip cafes, design firms, restaurants and bookshops litter the walkways instead of crummy and sleazy pubs. Well, some karaoke pubs (where they generally do really bad singing) remain from those days- Duxton Blue, Going Places, Pub Villas, etc, the enduring pub is JJ Atlante where 70s Singapore band Heritage still plays easy-listening cover rock.

The Toucan at makes for a good hangout. Rather, we're just there for the Guinness. We love it enough to stock cans of it at home for a quick fix, even better than whisky sometimes. But going out for a drink is still preferred. I love my Guinness to come in a half-pint. I don't drink a pint fast enough for it to remain chilled. So the half-pints work well.

When the best guy pal is back town, activities like golf (which I'll always try to squirm out of) and spar(ring) sessions are in order. Likewise, the drinking is part of it. If we could characterize our lives, we could do it via bottles and types of drinks. Heh. Our lives have never lost moments in an alcoholic haze. Age has a factor, of course- we drink less. But we never stop. I haven't outgrown it, certainly. Why is there a need to outgrow it as we get older? It's necessary to stop getting embarrassingly tipsy or miserably drunk. Copious amounts are never compulsory. A pint or a dram here and there, is certainly not going to kill me. Like what my late grandfather advocated, a swig of port after dinner now and then kept his heart beating (till 95). Ookies. I don't want to live till that age though.

Rock! Paper! Poster!

Up on the walls of The Pigeonhole till 6 September are 20-something screen-printed gig posters (not for sale) from the personal collection of the good people of KittyWu Records. Titled 'Rock! Paper! Poster!', there're some very cool ones featuring Explosions in the Sky, The Shins, Deathcab from Cutie, Arcade Fire and Feist.

We popped in at the launch tonight. We've never seen KittyWu's stash and it's a good time to check them out. Framing precious posters can be an expensive affair. Ikea frames don't cut it as they don't seal in tight. Use these frames if the the posters aren't too pricey or carry sentimental value. You'd need to cut out the moisture and humidity to protect limited edition screen prints and enjoy them in the years to come. Sending it to the professional framers is much more convenient.

I know nothing about the artists and the art of screen-printed gig posters. Those names mean something to the friends who're into the art and the known talents in the world of stunning visuals. I only know how to admire the concept, colors and strokes. For many of us into this genre of music, we probably shared a similar sort of decor for our rooms, dorms and whatever during those angsty teenage years in the form of band photos and posters adorning the walls.

Full from dinner, I declined the offered desserts of mac and cheese, and, bread and butter pudding. Beer would do just fine. Otherwise, a pint of Guinness or whisky after would complete the evening. The Pigeonhold ran out of the favored beer again! ARRRGGGGH. Why me?! Had to stick to another beer which I don't quite mind, but not a preferred choice over others. Hmmmph. It does mean that there're plenty of people turning up and buying drinks at this launch party though. That's positive.

The photo below shows screen-printed posters of gigs in Singapore done by Invsble Studio. Very good work! We spent some time staring at the Mono poster, wondering where the heck is the name of the band. The friends grinned and told us to walk further away. I stared at my photo. Then we realized...ahhhh....it's right there! So clever. These posters aren't available for purchase at The Pigeonhole after tonight. BUT, they're totally available for purchase online.

Not Too Brooding

When the email came around calling for a gathering with the girls, it was titled, "Something Hollywood?" Haha. Sorry, we don't do chick flicks. In our circle, that would simply mean to suggest depressing or action movies made by Hollywood that aren't too shite. Hmmmmm.

Looking at everyone's schedules, it's plausible that many haven't caught movies at the cinema for ages. We've taken to watching them off Apple TV and whatever other devices available for downloads of (legal) movies.

So the picks for the evening were 'The Lincoln Lawyer' and 'Small Town Murder Songs'. (Read the New York Times' review here, and here.) Very similar themes of crime and redemption run through in these movies. Oh how enjoyable they are. Not exactly brainless, but less of a discussion incited. Instead, we grinned and talked about lighter topics thrown up by the plot and characters.

Like how cute Matthew McConaughey can be. Oh we remember 'Amistad'. That was a good movie. 'The Lincoln Lawyer' is not as heavy, and twice as fun. We were almost sorry that it was over before we knew it. The twists in the plot were not exactly predictable and that totally saved this Hollywood flick and made it more substantial than the lead actor's run of the mill crap like the recent 'Surfer Dude' and 'Ghosts of Girlfriends Past'.

Ed Gass-Donnelly is the director of 'This Beautiful City', which I didn't quite like. Its jagged storyline wasn't exactly well thought out. 'Small Town Murder Songs' is much better in terms of pacing, plot development and thrills. I really like the actors chosen. Anguish, fear, forgiveness and all manner of expression are portrayed convincingly.

This time, the hostess decided to cook instead of calling for a potluck. She claimed that with her husband out of town, she didn't have to baby him and therefore could afford the time to cook at leisure. No washing up was necessary as everything went into the dishwasher. Heh. Dinner was delicious.

Spicy sweet potato salad :: kosheri :: deviled eggs with roasted red pepper hummus :: freshly done pita bread :: pasta primavera :: old-fashioned fruit crumble :: bottles of easy Californian pinot noir went down fast

Not Quite Feeling The Echo

Richard Powers' 'The Echo Maker' isn't normally a book I'd pick up. It's the man's kind of genre. I like my books easier, so to speak. But I don't mind realism fiction once in a while. (A summary of the novel is found in this 2006 article.) The phrase 'echo-maker' hints at how stories could be impressed upon into memories and how that echo could help distinguish between reality and perception.

"But indisputably, Capgras and paranoia correlated. No surprise, then, when Mark's scores showed mild paranoid tendencies. Just what horror the flashes of persecution and clowning held at bay, Weber's tests could not determine."

There're so many things going on in the novel that I felt a little stretched. First, twist your tongues around the medical terms and have on hand, Google to check out all the various terminology and associated symptoms. After that, ask you whys and what as to how the protagonist Mark had gotten into an accident on that fateful night. Then there's the complexity of the relationship with his primary caregiver- his sister Karin. It explores also the character of Karin vis-à-vis her insecurities and questions of her existence in this world. The truth of the accident is revealed later in the book by his 3 best friends, but the story doesn't end there. It's about what happens after to Mark, of his journey, his mind and ultimately, his sense of self.

There's a parallel plot (pun intended) of local politics on Platte river where the sand cranes gather and it's earmarked for urban redevelopment. I thought it's a little far to pull together ecological significance and ideas on cognition versus themes on mental states.

"What does a bird remember? Nothing that anything else might say. Its body is a map of where it has been, in this life and before. Arriving at these shallows once, the crane colt knows how to return. This time next year, it will come back through, pairing for life. The year after next: here again, feeding the map to its own new colt. Then one more bird will recall just what birds remember."

It isn't a terrible book. It isn't boring. It doesn't exactly struggle to present the full picture to the reader. Dichotomies abound. Undeniably, Richard Powers writes well. He presents a disjointed frame in this book exactly the way he would have it, leaving the reader not too depressed and rather pensive. But it's this genre that I don't quite take to and I almost regret picking it up. For a reader who's inclined towards horror and fantasy, I'm not sure I like the human portions of it.

Real Food Cafe

I'm rather fond of having meals at Real Food, and drinks, especially its juices. Yes, the cold-pressed juicer at home is awesome, but I still like a glass of freshly squeezed juices at the cafes or the restaurants. Real Food is quite an ideal venue to sit down with friends for a drink. For some reason I keep having tea and dinner here instead of lunch. Today, I hopped in with lilsnooze for a mid-day meal. It was completely packed out by 12.30pm.

The food has been consistently decent and not overly salted. The promise of organic ingredients is enough to keep me coming back. The menu's quite substantial and instead of just doing good salads and soups, it's varied enough to provide a hearty meal for vegans and vegetarians. Need I even add 'healthy'? Take your pick of Asian and Western selections.

I like the whites and touches of color dotting its cool and calming decor. It feels comfortable and spacious. Love that bookshelf and a portion of its contents. However, I'm not enamored with its policy of charging S$0.50 per glass of plain water, even when we've already ordered juices all around the table.

Iftar

There's no way we're disciplined enough to get up early to join the friends for suhoor. So we made a date for the evening instead. Headed down to Alaturka for great conversation and good food.

Berbuka puasa with fresh dates and apple tea :: Mezze platter x 2 :: stuffed eggplants with cheese and tomato sauce :: etli pide :: lamb and vegetarian moussaka :: kebab platter :: more apple tea :: no dessert!

Baybeats 2011

A weekend at Baybeats 2011. What a treat. Bands galore showcased their genres of music. Punk, metal, rock, singer-songwriters, folk, blues, pop-ish, groovy. They played their hearts out. Some were good, some ahemm....needs to either tune their guitars or increase practice sessions, and many played with passion to an appreciative crowd.

The bay area came to life with familiar faces, the public and masses of humans. Quite a party. Chic parents with cool kids, older folks strolling along hand in hand and bobbing to Noughts and Exes, Cheating Sons, Seyra, Julianne, Nicholas Chim, etc. The line-up is diverse and appeals to different audiences at various timings. It was great fun hanging out with the friends and having random chats over both inane and solemn topics. I've always got a soft spot for this music festival that has grown to be definitive of the Singapore indie music scene. After all, I met the man at Baybeats 2004. :)

A pity that the trolleys, kiosks or whatever, sold really lame food and drinks. As far as a festival is concerned, there wasn't any good beer or food in a tent. Some business logic at work I suppose. It makes sense to have the crowd patronize the eateries at the mall, and the casual hawker stalls instead of having random food carts stationed outdoors to cannibalize their business. Or to save the cleaners alot of trouble to pick up the litter late in the night or early in the morning. But seriously, holding no beer at gigs is just STRANGE. What we did, was to pack giant cooler boxes filled with ice blocks and tightly packed with bottles of fabulous beer. Muahahhaha. It isn't illegal or disallowed to walk around with a bottle or a can in hand.

I like those whimsical installations dotting the outdoor area. Something else to feast the eyes on. There're art installations open to assorted interpretation. Rather fun to linger over. Further to the Powerhouse stage, those 4 billboards of intentional graffiti art seem...less of graffiti and instead, should be called 'street art'. Pretty morbid, creative and intense.

Thank you for this year's rocking beats. Till 2012. Can't wait already. Yay!

Storm In A Curry Pot

I breezed through the doors of the nail salon and plonked myself onto the seat. By way of greeting, the nail therapist asked the customary "where you came from" and if I had lunch. So I said yeah, had lunch at Little India. 3 Singaporean women thought it appropriate to directly ask if I specially went to Little India because it was 'Cook and Share a Pot of Curry Day'.

I wasn't pleased to be asked anything. I'm not friendly at boutiques, supermarkets, hair and nail salons. I can be very rude if someone catches me in an off mood, even if it's making a passing comment or compliment. I don't bother talking to another customer. I'm buried either in my books or the iPad or the Kindle. Of course I'll converse with the therapists and sales executives, but it doesn't mean it's an open invite for anyone else to jump in. I don't like banal conversation or antagonistic debates with strangers anywhere.

The last thing I want to do at the nail salon, is to engage in a political discussion. To the question of Little India, I replied, "No. I eat at Little India twice a week, especially on the weekends." I returned to flipping pages on the iPad.

The woman didn't understand my tone. She actually continued, "It's so crowded on the weekends. So difficult to drive or walk. No parking. So hot too." Right. A very Singaporean statement. My one line retort moderated to sound as calm and monotonous as possible, "Then don't go lor." That effectively shut her up.

Public Garden At Old School

We expected heat and humidity at the flea market. So in the hope of having less of a sauna effect in the setting sun, we headed to Old School for Public Garden at 5. The sky was overcast. Held at the hall, the venue is well ventilated, but still dripped from the afternoon's relentless heat.

Public Garden adopts a slightly different slant from MAAD. At Public Garden, the re-sellers and blogshops appeared. I was more interested in crafts and designers who put passion and heart into making them. These talented people with their gorgeous wares are the reasons why I check out flea markets in Singapore or anywhere else in the world.

Walked by Amado Gudek and was enthralled by her handcrafted resin jewelry. The brand promises that all creations are sculpted and cast by hand, "transforming elements of nature and geometry into queer oddities". I picked out a ring that totally resembled glaciers. Very beautiful. It comes in blue-green and brown-yellow, I think. But I like this grey-black combination. The man insisted on buying it for me. Heeeee.

I couldn't resist getting one of these cute little brooches from Hug A Porcupine at The Little Dröm Store. Plenty of old school nostalgic pins that would look so cool on a dress or a blouse. I remember playing hopscotch in school. That was the one that drew my attention. Everything's too cute though. I want them all.

I didn't bother to browse the list of designers or shops that would be at Public Garden. I didn't want to come 'prepared'. I wanted to be surprised. So I had a bit of a grin when I saw Veira. An engineer by training, the woman behind the brand started it out of a love of design and fashion. I really love her quirky yet functional bags.

Veira had a couple of new arrivals, and the clutch in brown suede that I had been eyeing. It was pretty nice, but each time I saw it at the shops, there was no impulse to get it. You know, girls own too many bags. There isn't a need for another bag. It's clearly a 'want'. Plus, there's always the option to shop online. So I haven't done anything about it. Till today. Staring at me right in the face like that, I had to buy it. There's another version in blue. But that only comes in synthetic suede.

Stopped by MessyMsxi where the Msxi provided an interactive concept for visitors to come draw their idea of breakfast on the templates (of cutlery and utensils), and they only needed to draw tiny portions of the food. I chickened out and stuck to taking photos. C and notabilia pressed on to respectively sketch and color a traditional English breakfast of toast, and cream cheese on bagels.

I had lots of fun watching the ladies complete their drawings, and looking at what others drew. Some completed templates were stuck on the wall and hey presto, a pop-up gallery of our different ideas of breakfast in Singapore. There was chwee kueh! Yay! For the brave who took the drawing pens, they were presented with Msxi's illustrated postcard of the various foods at breakfast. A very memorable stop at the flea market and such an imaginative way of advertising the illustrator's portfolio and creative services.

Just as we walked out and sat down at Timbre, the fickle clouds gathered and the skies opened up and poured. Perfect. The rains cooled the evening considerably. Coming from the heat of the flea market, we really didn't mind a cold drink. Easy beers and laughter made for a convivial interlude before we went our separate ways for the night.

I like buying and wearing stuff from Singapore-based and Singapore designers. Browsing through the well-formed creations by various designers has been most inspirational. I've no nimble fingers, and will have to stick to admiring the work of the gifted. This is one type of shopping that I really don't mind.

Grilled Vegetables Galore

Went out to Shunjuu Izakaya and Sumiyaki for an easy dinner with a lovely woman. She was early and had properly dissected the menu. So I gleefully left it to her to sort out the matter of ordering the food. The thing about us and food- we share a similar outlook and can quite easily guess what would appeal to the other. An izakaya will always have items we like. People who don't know us think we're very difficult to please when it comes to food. It isn't so. We're just finicky (!), but lucky us, we live in Singapore and have got plenty of choices.

Plenty of vegetables tonight! Hurrah. Those grilled ginkgo nuts were delicious. I hadn't had them for a while. Same goes for the leeks. I only like to eat leeks grilled. Totally avoid them in salads and soups. A pity Shunjuu was out of momotaro tomatoes. Great munchies for a light meal. We weren't exactly starving, otherwise we'd have gotten 2 fish heads!

It was a very pleasant dinner. Braved the humidity for walks (after-dinner and after-dessert) in the balmy evening. What a surprisingly precious friendship this has turned out to be. I've always put this girl into the 'atas' category. Closer to a snob, perhaps. Heeeheeeheee. Eh, she's an uptown girl, but not in the snooty sort of way. I don't know how to describe it, but she's warm and amiable. That's the thing I guess. She and I, we don't exactly possess a friendly disposition in a hospitable sort of manner. We 'get' each other on thought frequencies, even if we voice disparate views.

We share alot more in common than I earlier thought. A set of almost agnate values in an odd manner that is analogous, but contradistinct. People share fundamental values, and outlook in life. People can agree to disagree or agree to debate. But the point is 'chemistry'. It needs to be there. If there isn't that spark, people won't progress beyond being acquaintances, and a friendship wouldn't happen.

Colors Blocks

The girlfriend ordered a skirt from a blogshop for me. She was a little upset about it because when it arrived, a portion of the stitching wasn't up to her standards. She said it outright that she didn't feel like giving it to me. So sweet the woman is. I saw it, and decided that it wasn't anything I hated. "I want it. Please. Thank you!!!"

The girlfriend's very adventurous lor. In terms of cut, this isn't the usual I'd wear. In fact, I avoid it for a simple reason- it's excruciatingly unforgiving to lovehandles and tummy rolls. That blue band, I love. The green, I'm not so sure. I don't own one article of clothing in this shade of green. The closest to green in the wardrobe is a dirty hue that's more brown than anything. I think the friends have decided that to make me wear colors, they'll just have to buy them for me. Muahahahhaha.

Another girlfriend suggested pairing it with a yellow top. My eyes widened. YELLOW. I don't own anything in yellow either! And I'm timid with color. Yellow, blue and green. AAHHHHH! Cannot! Putting on the skirt is already courageous, in my books. So, I paired it with black for a casual night out. Rubber flip flops were considered. But out of utmost respect to my stylish companion for the evening, I wore black flats.

So there you go. Whatever imperfections the skirt has, they don't matter. I don't care about it. They don't show up when I wear it. It falls fine on the hips; it feels right. But this, I will emphasize- the skirt is bloody unforgiving. I've to remind myself to consciously hold in the stomach and do that skirt proud.

Cupcake Tales

3 adults put together ate less than Lil'Missy today.

Raisins :: half of her Mommy's ramen noodles :: almost a full bowl of edamame :: a cupcake :: huge servings of blueberries and grapes :: a whole raw carrot :: 3 giant cherry tomatoes :: cookies

(These were eaten between a proper breakfast and dinner.)

Active Lil'Missy ran and ran and ran all the way from Ippudo Tao to Smitten for dessert and coffee. Then we had to indulge her current obsession with jumping off things because she spotted kerbs at the right height for her to do major leaping without the fear of falling. I didn't teach her this. She learnt it from gym class!

At Smitten, coffee was ordered for us. No caffeine for the little girl. But she got water and a cupcake. When the cupcake came, Lil'Missy's mouth formed a big 'O'. Her eyes widened, stretched out her hand and grabbed the blue marshmallow. She was fast! We made her put it back to take photos. Her eyes never left the marshmallow and that wistful look on Lil'Missy's face was priceless.

The girl refused to nap. Later on, even in a comfortable darkened room, she still refused to snooze. First, she ordered the teddy bears and assorted soft toys around. Then she didn't let the adults talk and decided we shouldn't be idle. She sang songs, instructed us to "sit down", "stand up", "put your right hand out and shake it all around" and made us hold her while she did her forward rolls and handstands. Eh, I also didn't teach her this, although I did make her practice getting up from her forward rolls gracefully instead of cheating by crawling up sideways. The ultimate command she barked at me, "Why are you sitting on the bed?! Sit down on the floor!" o_O

It's A Lovely Day

Another girlfriend's back home for a little while! Yayyy!! I've missed her very much. At least I've got a couple of months to hang out with her before she flies off again.

A lunch meeting was in order. The three of us, we rarely get a chance to sit down together for a meal nowadays. Not too difficult to arrange a date with either one, but to have all three.....I can't even remember the last time we met as a trio!

We were all in dresses. Something about lunch and greenery mid-week lifted our spirits. One girlfriend was decked out in a chirpy red with a statement ring, the other was in silver with a cute beige belt, and I was in random grey with silver bangles. This sort of girlie gathering, I like. I love these girls' brains, minds and humor. I told them about how I missed the intensity and challenges of the previous job, and the recent lapse in nearly applying for job with a similar portfolio in another organization, and both recoiled in horror. They said, almost simultaneously, not word for word, but the gist went something like, "Are you out of your mind? Why do you want to do the same shit in a shittier organization?!" Heeeheeeheeee.

Fresh from her travels and photos of majestic glaciers, the girlfriend bought me a beautiful pair of earrings in hand-blown glass from Bluejays & Bumblebees. The girlfriend knows my ears react quite badly to silver and we discussed the earrings over whatsapp, replete with photos. I wanted it anyway! Heh. Allergy notwithstanding, I'm going to wear this pair of gorgeous earrings for about 2 hours at a stretch. Best worn in the sunlight. I put it on immediately. It matched my dress today!

We lingered over the meal, and were the last customers to leave the restaurant. Nobody chased us away or grumbled when we ordered coffee at 3pm. How nice! Back then, whenever I could, I would make time to lunch with them on work days, and looked forward to regular dinners and coffee during the weekends. We still do that. And the best part, now we've more time to arrange for random meets. What a long splendid outing with the girlfriends today.

The Food Kept Coming

The friends picked Tatsuya for dinner (again). Their call. They're back in town for a bit and would be heading home soon. Where they live, they won't get sashimi in this variety and cut, or sushi properly rolled. They've been coming to Tatsuya almost daily for the period they're in Singapore, alone, with other friends, and with us!

This dinner would comprise of sashimi and sushi. The friends clearly, weren't tired of it even though they just hopped back from a jaunt to Japan. The man and I couldn't stop laughing when the girlfriend told us that she bought a sashimi knife in Japan while her husband was completely befuddled. Me too! Why on earth would she want to fillet fish with a sashimi knife? Wouldn't a normal sharp knife do the job too? Okay, but I'm no expert in the matters of fish. As long as the knife keeps her happy.

Everyone else wanted the regular-sized chirashizushi. I stuck to the mini version. The chef put tiny little silverfish thingies into the rice. Yumz. I passed on the prawns and all, but the regular version had prawns raw and in batter. We were disciplined. Only when we were about to finish the bowls then we thought about ordering more food. Well, the man and the friends. They were definitely not ready to stop eating. Although I managed to squeeze in a thin crispy salmon skin handroll.

We couldn't help eavesdropping on the conversation between two other diners. Well, they were really loud, and being German, his Singlish accent was really good, better than his Singaporean associate's. He was trying to find out more about government policies, quality of life and living standards on this island. The Singaporean (man) sounded normal. The German affected a fairly passable normal accent. So good till all of us were like....woah. We don't even talk like that. We've to make a conscious effort to do so and being Singaporean, we easily adjust accents according to the company we keep.

After the soup, the rest merrily continued with like...6 more pieces of sushi. Wahhh! I was completely stuffed, and passed on those. There was plenty of sake and beer. I skipped the fruit, and asked for the usual plum wine jelly. Even the in-season peach didn't tempt me. We've a crate of peaches at home waiting to be eaten!

The friends ordered us to visit them in winter when it's more fun. BUT. I'm very hesitant of the -15°C temperatures. I can deal with -8°C. But nothing more. ARRRRGH. The last time I dealt with -20°C in dead winter at a remote but breathtaking destination, the trip wasn't entirely my idea! Anyway. I'm going to miss you very much. I love my present lots! Till the next meal.

Tea With Bubbles

I don't like talking or carrying children who have just woken up from their nap. I don't even like socializing very much in the mornings bleary-eyed. If I do that to any kid, she'll probably just wail.

So I tiptoed behind Corsage when she tended to an awake Bubbles mid-afternoon. I peered around the wall. Bubbles didn't shriek at seeing my face. In fact, she ran and gave me a big fat hug. Waaah. So enthusiastic. She probably thinks that it's a routine now that I appear on certain days at certain timings. :D

Then she clambered up the chair to the dining table and gleefully presented me with cupcakes that she made at a kids' baking programme. I peeled off the top of it and munched. The bottom half held melty chocolate M & Ms. She stared at my cupcake and decided she wanted the chocolates. "May I have cupcake please, Auntie Imp?"

Hmmmpf. That's the best part of the cupcake! But okay. Since you're so cute and asked me so nicely, I shall give it to you. So we ate 2 cupcakes this way. I ate the top boring portion and she licked the exciting chocolate at the bottom. Then, we waited for Corsage to heat up the water and ready hard boiled eggs for us for tea. Heeeheeee.

Smitten

Oh, absolutely.

There's a ton of good coffee joints popping up all over now with fun names. Jimmy Monkey, Coffeesmith, Jewel, Espressoul, 93 degrees C, etc. The Ponderous Pilgrim wrote a good summary of them.

Smitten is one such boutique coffee joint. It's bizzare that they're closed on the three occasions I turned up, and they were all on a Tuesday. So I tried again on a non-Tuesday and finally I got a thick beautiful brew of piccolo latte. No flat whites at Smitten. Heh. Some of the friends prefer their macchiato.

Smitten doesn't serve food for now. :( I'd love to have brunch here. It's a convenient location. In fact, I'm switching allegiance to them for the daily cuppa. Heeeee. They've sweets, cakes and macarons from E.T. Artisan. I don't care about sweets, so I've no idea about the source till lilsnooze and the great big intarwebz told me!

I'm not going to pretend to be a coffee connoisseur. Debating about coffee, brews and beans is like insisting on which whiskies are supposedly good. There isn't a good or bad. Like all single malts, it's the taste that matters. And of utmost importance, it's your personal and individual taste. Older malts don't mean they're better. Pricier, yes, but they might not be to your taste. Likewise, coffee. You can comment on the roasting, under extraction, the heat, milk, and the touch of each barista. But the smokiness of the bean and the aftertaste are entirely your perception and it's never a right or wrong. The only thing I'll agree is that, the more coffee you taste around the world, the more polished your palate will be. You alone, decide what coffee you like. Who cares about other people's opinions. But I will shoot you if you insist Starbucks serves better coffee than these joints.

At Smitten, for an additional S$1.50, you can have single origin beans for your coffee. It all depends on what they have for the week, and if you like it. The house roast is dark with strong smoke. The single origin this week has a slightly tart but floral afternote. Both are lovely in their uniqueness. Mmmmm.

No Sake This Round!

Tatsuya settles plenty of my meals. It's not possible to have a full course omakase for each meal. It's simply overwhelming. There're days when I only want a steamed fish head in soup or something grilled, and be done with it. Most days, I'm happy with a chirashizushi mini, perhaps 2 pieces of sushi and a plum wine jelly. No fruits. Too many fruits at home to deal with more at restaurants.

If you're familiar with the size of the regular chirashizushi at Tatsuya, you'll be quite amused by this mini bowl. It's palm-sized. The chefs are very clever. They rescinded the usual size for me and have begun to give this itsy-bitsy bowl just so that the stomach could still absorb other kinds of food. Heh. This tiny bowl of gorgeous rice and fish, 2 pieces of tamago and a steamed fish head in sake soup stock completed dinner for Lady J and I. You gotta admit, this meal wasn't just tasty, it was bloody healthy.

Although Lady J declared food coma lingering from the weekend and she would be having less carbs for the week, I wasn't sure if this would be her preferred portions for dinner. I was quite worried that she would starve by the time 11pm came around! We were very disciplined. No sake! Wieeeee! Lady J was going to have an early day, and I was in for a seriously painful session of pilates as well, so sake wasn't advisable!

Stretch, Bubbles, Stretch!

Bubbles and I sat by the bay window to play. It had been wet, grey and dreary all day. Bubbles said she didn't like the rain and she wanted to sun to come out and shine. You wouldn't believe what I did next. I sang her the chorus of 'Summer Rain', replete with hand signs of the rain falling. Bubbles was very amused by the singing. Then she mimicked my hand signs. Heeeheeeheee.

After rolling around for a bit and doing star jumps with a spot of butt shaking, she gleefully stretched her leg out as instructed. I couldn't get her to put her hands beneath the heel. Oh well, little children are more flexible than adults, so no matter. Pointed her toes too! A familiar stretch in pilates and yoga. We need a little more work on the line and form, but she got the idea. How very fun! She seems to like these stretching and twisting; she's been trying to climb the furniture from all possible angles at home, so maybe supervised gym time is nigh!

Day Out In A Bon Chat Singlet

After lunch and wandering across frenzied Raffles Place, the girlfriend and I strolled into Joe & Dough for a caffeine fix before she headed back to the office. The flat white is pretty decent. Those sandwiches look fabulous except that it would be quite impossible to have any sort of conversation with the crowd and noise. Need to avoid lunch hour and come in at either 11.30am or 2.30pm.

Bought Bon Chat's hand drawn feather organic cotton singlet at Maad last week. Made of 100% organic cotton, it's a wonderful fabric to withstand our fierce humidity and heat. The moment I saw it, I wanted it. It's made in Peru too. Wieeeee! Okay...I've a fondness for things made in Peru. Don't mind me.

For the morning meeting with a 'client' to plan the next social and an afternoon out with friends, I paired the singlet with fun tailored pants and threw a cardigan over it. I love the feel of the clothes! If Bon Chat has more designs in this singlet, I'm going to buy more! One could either dress it up in a casual chic sort of style or dress it down beach-easy or pilates-flexible.