Have You Seen My Nails Like This?

The nail and hair salons are the first places I zoom to after each trip out of town. This round, I've been completely lax and didn't turn up at the nail salon till this week. I can sort out the hair next week.

When the nail therapist saw my fingernails, she literally screeched. I winced. She has probably never seen my nails this short. I don't own a nail clipper, and naturally forgot about buying one for the month-long trip. There was only a nail file in the toiletries bag which worked okay, until the nails grew and tore. I had to grab one to chop off all nails to the flesh. See lah, all these years of vanity resulted in brittle nails due to layering gel to it for that perfectly manicured look.

Previously, I had to layer a thin shine of gel onto the nails still, even though they were short. They were too brittle to withstand even water. They were like, paper thin! But after the trip, the nails grew and grew, and regained some strength. So today, I didn't bother with any more varnish or gels. The fingersnails came out of the salon bald and bare, save for a thin layer of base coat. I bet you've never seen me with nails like this. There's more growing out to be done and it'll be another 2 months before the fingernails regain their full strength. My natural nails are strong and I can't wait to have them back!

My right toenail has always been slow to recover from injuries and is always the one that kena the worst. Since 2007, I've only had half a toenail. In spite of all the jumping, swimming and stubbing it repeatedly, that stubborn stump of a nail refuse to fall out. Often, I've been sorely tempted to go to the doctor and have it removed. But I never did pluck up the courage. So the toenail was left to wilt and shrivel or whatever.

It was tender and after putting on acrylic covers for months, the bit of nail thickened and the skin hardened. I stopped with gluing on the fake nail and decided that it was time to let it grow naturally. It's been a couple of months and the thickened nail has indeed grown to an almost normal length. It doesn't look too good though. Still thick, and mis-shapened. But at least it's healthy enough. So I'm not bothered with putting pretty colors on them either.

It feels quite liberating to have bald and bare nails. I can live with not appearing polished all the time. I don't mind the au naturel feel either. I can play the piano without sounding stilted and when I punch the sandbag or jump the ledges, there isn't any sort of restraint. Full-on violence and some amazing leaps have been executed. Best.

Counting The Days To See The Girlfriend Again

Yet another girlfriend has taken the plunge of doing a year's no-pay leave to find her inner peace. Part of this includes heading out of Singapore. I'm going to miss her a little. But this trip is essential for her. It's something she has wanted to do for a while, and there's no better time to finally do it so as to have little regrets in life.

It's hilarious that she got me a going-away present. Hullo, you're the one going away, not me! She calls it 'Mr Sad Bear' who'll sit with me while she's not around. The moment I saw the flat cushion bear-thingy, I knew what I'll do with it. It's a cushion that's the perfect size for the iPad and Kindle, or to prop up a book and a magazine!

Just as I have Mr Sad Bear for company, I hope she'll find company and be fine alone too. She's more of a social creature than I am. She doesn't have friends who are in the city. I don't know how she's going to get by without friends. It's kinda far for us to fly over with just a snap of the fingers. It isn't her first trip out, of course. I keep forgetting that her university years were spent overseas, but with good friends made then. So hopefully on this trip, she'll meet some sane and nice people; her faith and the word of God will carry her through with strength and cheer. It's like, Singapore has broken her heart. (Metaphor metaphor! No political insinuations here!) In going away, I hope her heart will be healed. She deserves so much more happiness.

I love you very much, and I wish you well, babe. Find yourself and come home refreshed. I will keep you in my thoughts with a prayer of St Teresa of Avila, "Let nothing disturb thee; Let nothing dismay thee; All things pass; God never changes. Patience attains all that it strives for. He who has God finds he lacks nothing: God alone suffices." And, you alone, hold the key to your own happiness.

So Good To Taste Tatsuya's Flavors!

With no prior reservations or warning that I was turning up, a foot was stuck into the doorway of Tatsuya, When the servers saw me, they went into a bit of a fluster because they were full for the evening. Now, I don't recommend you try it, because chances are, you'll have to sit al fresco in the stifling heat where no fans help. But for me, they somehow squeezed out counter seats and sat me down with a disapproving look. "Call us first next time lah." I grinned and promised to eat fast.

I didn't bother with a full course of omakase. I just wanted a quick fix in the form of chirashi with the specific preferred ingredients, and a salmon skin handroll. That would be very quickly done, as long as the chef found time to prep my order. There was once when I was in a huge hurry and they did it in 10 minutes. Tonight was almost as fast, except for that they knew I wasn't in a hurry, so they took 15 minutes. Heh.

I was quite tickled when Chef Ronnie Chia came around to show us a list indicating the sources of his current supply of fish. He really didn't have to, by virtue of us being there. But he still did. I told him he was being naggy and I'd still turn up no matter what. His chefs and girls already knew I was out of town for the month and should not link my non-appearance to a display of no-confidence due to the recent events. Between 80% - 90% of Tatsuya's fish come from Japan. Now, it would be less as they had to stop the imports from the restricted zones. I could taste the difference in certain fish sourced from other areas. They aren't too bad really. Certainly not completely authentic, but interesting enough for me not to mind it. Like I said, I trust the integrity of these restaurants.

In Florals With The Girls

I woke up, bounded out of bed and decided to wear not to wear black today. (It must be lady J's influence.) I dug out an old dress (flea market buy!) from the dusty depths of the wardrobe and put it on. I'm not sure if it screams 'me!', but it was a comfortable get-up for a day out.

There was a lunch date at Tatsuya with the girlfriend and her little lass. We plonked ourselves at the table, and once the little lass charmed the servers, we terrorized them with our orders for some tweaking to the usual dishes. Some sashimi and sushi were in order, along with toddler-friendly eats.

We shared had a fruit and vegetable salad. Loved those pear strips within. Made the salad crunchy and sweet. For lil'Missy, lunch consisted of steamed Japanese rice, tamago, tofu, a big bowl of clear mushroom soup, and a whole steamed yellowtail cheek. Yes, you read right. Lil'Missy loves her fish. She gingerly took a dainty bite of the yellowtail cheek and gave us a bright smile. She emphatically nodded "More fish." It wasn't a giant fish cheek, but it was sizeable, and she steadily finished it all by herself. I was majorly impressed.

Come to think of it, lil'Missy probably ate more than her mommy and I combined. I mean, sure, we polished off the sashimi and chirashi. But the little lass finished all her rice and soup which came in adult portions. And there was that fish. Her preferences have shifted since a year ago, but her very healthy appetite remains unwavering.

She was quite upset when we didn't allow her to part-take our desserts of plum wine jelly and melon. She's still got a cough and shouldn't be eating melon. The other contained alcohol. So that was that. We distracted her by telling her that she would get strawberries. Luckily she loves strawberries. So the server went off to the kitchen to get 6 beautifully deep red sweet ones for her. She merrily ate them up and didn't share any with us. Hmmmpff.

Food For Thought, Certainly

Fresh out of the plane last Sunday, sitting at the very local, superbly Singaporean Bedok hawker centre to satisfy the chwee kueh-porridge cravings gave me a little more food for thought than I bargained for. It reminded me about the elections (which I've largely and conscientiously ignored) and everything else about people, ground sentiments, government and this leeeeetle issue of something called 'reality'.

Working till 70 and beyond

We sat down at a free table littered with empty plates. At a packed hawker centre, the limited number of elderly cleaners couldn't clear all tables in time. They couldn't cope. So I shrugged and cleared the plates, and wiped the table. Not a big deal. I grew up seeing elderly cleaners shuffle around Singapore. It seemed a bit sad, but since it was common, it wasn't a big deal. I truly believed these old people wanted to work for the sake of being self-sufficient. There wasn't anything odd about that. It isn't till about 18 years old, when I began roaming the world, then realization sank in that we're about the only country in the world with this odd social phenomenon of bent white-haired people coming out to do menial, exhausting work as cleaners in public spaces and office buildings.

The Forgotten

In that 35 minutes of eating or so, I freely admit I was a tad annoyed by no less than 10 elderly and disabled people coming up to sell packets of tissues. I haven't sat down at a hawker centre for a really long time. So this continual stream of people thrusting packets of tissues in my face came as a bit of a shock. People do that in the past, but it seems as though the numbers have increased. Is this indicative of a social trend? Clearly, these elderly and disabled, even if they're on social assistance, feel it keenly that the amount handed out isn't enough to tide them over month-to-month. And don't give me the bullshit about them wanting to do something and be self-sufficient. Is this phenomenon seriously tolerated and quietly encouraged?

Shifting Grounds

It was just the man and I at the table of 6. A family of 3 asked us in Mandarin if they could sit with us. Of course. The man is Singapore. He used the Singlish-Hokkien terms. The wife is from mainland China, and spoke in putonghua. The 3-year old little kid spoke excellent Mandarin with precise enunication. As I listen to the conversations of the tables around, I realized that half of the tables were made up of foreigners who live and work in Singapore. Not that I particularly cared. I've no issues with an open-door policy for immigrants. Fair competition, I say. But I dislike being made to speak Mandarin at chic restaurants in a country where English is purportedly the working language. I want to strangle these servers at the restaurants. I certainly do not appreciate being squished into 700 square kilometres with 5 million people. Everywhere I go, it's a constant fight with people for space. Each time I get out of Singapore, I see less people and a great deal of space, and I'm pleased as a bird.

*********

I dislike the integrated resorts GREATLY. Have you been there? So tell me, what nationalities are the bulk of people working there? They're certainly more beneficial to non-Singaporeans than Singaporeans per se, in many ways. Political systems need to evolve. If we're supposedly first class, then government structures and systems have to move forwards. We're an economic stronghold, but we're nowhere near mature in terms of citizenry and political structures. For a long time now, I don't equate a country's standard of living as being proportionate to its quality of living.

I'm not liking the tone of the current candidates thrust out by the incumbent party. Their speeches smack of utter arrogance and tell of a disconnect. I'm generalizing here, but I find the content of the speeches, the delivery and the attitude disrespectful to the masses and proletariat, and insulting to the bourgeoisie and intellectuals. I'm not a clueless child who needs to be told what to do. You say good means good meh? I've a brain and a choice. If I can, I fully intend to exercise that right.

Cheerful Colors For The Evening

Such fun that Corsage and I arrived at Hua Ting at the same time- which was earlier than scheduled. Yay. I couldn't wait to catch up with the woman. It's been too long!

I've missed chatting with her about anything and everything. We've been so busy. She's one of those women who are also wonderful mothers, but hold on to their individuality. She's got amazing insight each time it comes to work issues- always different from mine and offers a sensible alternative angle, which is often a better way to manage outcomes positively.

We talked about her sister and the friends' 'Project Spare Attire' which has culminated in a flea market happening from 3 - 8pm this Saturday at Home Club. There's been overwhelming response from people donating clothes- ratty, used and new. Awesome. People do respond to community calls. But come Saturday, it'll be a bigger challenge to get people (and friends) to part with their money to BUY these clothes.

I'll gladly donate an amount in place of buying the clothes, because I don't want to end up getting clothes that I don't particularly want. But that's not the point, is it? The mission is to recognize the volunteers' enthusiasm, their efforts and commitment into putting this event together. That, I admire, and acknowledge. So please let me find something pretty this Saturday!

Corsage was in this stunning blue dress that fit her perfectly. I loved the color, the fabric; how it's cut and the scoop neckline, and how she jazzed it up with the belt. I loved the whole vibe of her get-up which was absolutely sexy, sassy and oozing total confidence. I stared a little harder at the belt and dissolved into embarrassingly loud giggles. I brought stuff for corsage and husband in a colorful gift carrier, which kinda matches her colorful belt. Hehhehee. She looked really chic swinging the bag off her arm. Everything matched! I had to take a photo of bag and belt side by side!

Adiós Argentina

Right from the start, I knew it’s going to be an exhausting trip, but I’ll learn so much from it. At the end of the trip, it doesn’t seem to be so bad. Yes, it’s a long time away from home, and work frustrations have made me feel trapped for a bit, but it’s not horrifying. It’s just the shock of a new job coupled with an immediate lengthy work trip of which I don’t know shit about the agenda.

I’ve learnt so much about new destinations that I might otherwise not have taken the courage to travel this far on a vacation with limited time. I’ve had some fun working in different teams operating on polar frequencies, met many people, learnt the basics of a new language, come to understand my new boss and his preferred management style really quickly. I now know how the new job shapes up and the full extent of the tasks and responsibilities. As the days pass and fill up with quite exciting matters, I will last the 3 months of probation. Then the company and I will decide.

I like Argentina. If you notice, there're very few countries that I dislike. I firmly believe that as a traveler and not a resident, there's something nice and fun to be found in each country. Every destination has so much to offer. If you're in the right frame of mind and are prepared to embrace all inconvenience and a new set of culture, then you'll truly appreciate all that lies within the eye. The friends and I talked about Peru, and we might just be able to swing a trip. Shall probably offer my services as their exclusive travel concierge, not that I know Peru, but more of for the fact that I can do all the logistics so easily, with my eyes closed. Heeeeee.

I'd love to have a direct flight home. That would be really convenient and less of a hassle. Too bad SQ doesn't fly direct from Buenos Aires to Singapore. SQ has no foothold in South America at all. Com'mon! Let those negotiations on air services work its magic like how Sao Paulo has materialized! (You know that Barcelona's a technical stop, right?)

Unfortunately, I can’t buy any sort of wood or food items, dulce de leche, jams and whatnots. Flying through Sydney means I can’t take them in. Oz customs are damn vigilant about flights coming in from South America. But it’s okay. This is one of the fastest and kindest routes to and fro Argentina with no worries of lost luggage and induces minimal jet lag. I’m not keen on flying through Mexico to Sao Paulo or Santiago, then Auckland, or do the Frankfurt, Dubai or Johannesburg route either. I wouldn’t mind the London route, but that’s crazy unless I want a couple of days to chill out there. For now, this Sydney-Singapore route is ideal. The flight timings are kind, and don’t bother me too much because I sleep like a dead log on planes. And no matter how I bitch about Qantas, it’s bearable, and its economy class baggage allowance is two suitcases at 23kg each. Ha. That seals the deal for many travelers. Plus I get to fly SQ from Sydney to home, and that matters to me, very much.

As I zip up the suitcases, it’s with a pang of wistfulness that this trip is finally ending. I’d like to go home, but there isn’t thick homesickness. I miss sambal and chwee kueh, but no other food. If the man isn’t flying off on his work trip, I’d have asked him to come join me and we head off for another week to Mendoza and Patagonia. I don’t care about the shopping and having no gifts for friends. Trips aren’t about buying souvenirs. It’s to be selfish and hold those memories and experiences in your mind. The friends have been awesome in sending me lots of chirpy emails, links and photos. You guys on this blog have kept me company through late nights and early mornings. I almost miss those hectic days. :P

Argentina & Harrods

Before I came to Buenos Aires, the friends had just returned from visiting in the city. We had a discussion about the rich-poor divide in the city, and wondered how and why Argentine friends said that there aren’t any bank loans available in the city. We have all been warned not to be flashy and stride along the streets of Buenos Aires thinking we're safe.

The Argentines I met also mentioned about the crime rate in the Buenos Aires. It’s common to be robbed at least twice in your residence there. Now, that’s not an assuring idea at all. The locals are quite blasé about it. Not just one, but many said that it’s cool to wear fakes so that at least when robbed, the monetary losses are minimal. !!! There's a sort of warped logic in that, yes. I’ve been hanging out at affluent Recoleta, which is a chic and fairly safe area in the city. Even the areas of Palermo seem okay. Our trips to anywhere are chauffeured, and I haven’t really felt unsafe in this city even when walking around the adjacent streets. I’ve been traipsing in the better parts of the city. I saw the slums though. After the associate told me about it, I went out of my way to drive past the slums. Sobering.

After some weeks here with a fair bit of interaction with Argentines, and a lot of background information gleaned from the necessity of research for work, I’m beginning to understand a little more of this vast country. The city functions, of course, somewhat. It’s in the middle of the run up to the October Presidential election which seems to sway towards no changes to anything. A lot of it has got to do with its current economic policies. The financial crisis of 2007 remains painfully fresh in people’s minds when the government slapped a tight withdrawal limit that’s almost ridiculous. It has since lifted, but people remember, and fear. The banking system in Argentina is generally non-existent, rather, its structure leaves much to be desired. The official stats of 12% inflation don’t reflect the reality. Your money is best kept in foreign banks.

Harrods came in 1914, expanded in 1920 and went bust in 1998. Then it got tied up in a mess of lawsuits. The building now stands empty and a portion of its floors serves as a venue for cultural events. There's talk of Harrods re-opening in Buenos Aires. It's been a long time coming. Last I heard, that was in 2003. I peered through the dark dusty windows and the interiors were desolately empty. If they don’t finish the discussions to refurbish and re-open soon, in another couple of years, the building will be derelict.

Coffee in Argentina

The coffee at the hotel sucks. They should really change their silly machines which break down every other day. The cappuccino is made up of more milk than coffee. I'm forced to look for coffee outside of the hotel. The coffee served at the cafes dotting the city is much better. And luckily, the black coffee served at meetings work fine too.

There're many sidewalk cafes around the city and the provinces. Chilling out is quite the thing to do here. But, you'll have to try hard to ignore traffic dust and noise, including sewer stink at times. At cafes where there're no mozzies, we sit outside. The weather's great. Why not. I think we've been so cooped up in rooms that we simply ask for outdoor sitting each time we saunter into a cafe.

The closest to a flat white that I can find here is a café au lait , or as the language calls it, café con leche. Otherwise, I'll just stick to their cortado- black coffee with a dash of milk. I'm quite happy with it. It does give me the much needed caffeine. I'm careful not to drink it in the afternoons though. It's so strong that it can keep me awake past 2am, and I need to sleep!

A Most Talented Musician

My hosts arranged for a private showcase by some musicians. I was dead tired that evening. My brains weren't quite functioning. When the music came on, I zoned out, and didn't pay much attention to the musicians. Neither did our hosts go into details about them, except that they're very famous local musicians. The singer is good, but there're many awesome singers in the country. The bandoneon player isn't as enthralling as the other one. The outstanding musician is the elderly pianist. He is extremely experienced, talented and possesses the most nimble fingers ever.

The musicians had put together a cd and gave me a copy. When the evening ended, exhausted, I fell into bed and slept, and slept. I forgot about the performance till I saw the music cd in the suitcase last night. I put it on. Poor recording and mastering made the cd sound really raw, but the shiny talent of the musicians can't be masked. It sounds quite beautiful. As I listened, something clicked. I remember the fabulous sounds that came out of the piano from the pianist's hands. His playing and unique touch of the keys are unforgettable. I did some determined googling and almost fell off my chair at the results popping up on the screen.

OMG. OMG. OMG. This is way better than running into U2 and Muse at my hotel! Or catching The National two weeks later in another city after they cancelled on Singapore. The pianist I saw, is Armando Blumetti. OMG. Armando Blumetti! The maestro is 85 years old. He's one of the most talented tango/jazz/bigband pianists in all of Argentina. I had the fortune to hear him play for two hours in an intimate setting, and tragically, didn't recognize him till NOW! See what happens when ignorance takes over. ARRRRRRRGH.

Tango

Tango is a huge thing in Argentina. Anyone who first steps in must watch a Tango show. I haven’t been to those in the two mega theatres in Buenos Aires, but I’ve seen the dancers flit in and out at our dinners. 

Those. I wasn’t at all impressed. They were going through the motions of a paid performance for the night rather than genuinely dancing, or stepping well. Their facial expressions were fine, but the steps were not clean and sharp. The hand movements were not clear and decisive or soft and sensual, but half-hearted and not completed. And, the colors of the costumes were horrendously matched, and badly sewn. If they had passion for their craft, I didn’t see it. I’ve been enjoying the music more than the dancing. 

It’s annoying to see run-of-the-mill sub-par performances milking the tourist dollar at La Boca. Show ‘em some flesh, and the audience is hooked. There must be good tango dancers in Argentina of competition standard. But where are they?!! I was pointed to a dance studio in Buenos Aires which offers tango lessons, and also a shop selling dancing shoes. No tango can be done well without proper dancing shoes. So I bought a simple pair of heels.

I’m not very likely to go dancing in Singapore. The man doesn’t dance at all. Gaaaah. I took a two-hour refresher lesson. It was exhilarating. I’ve almost forgotten that I could dance. After hearing me mention about the poor standards at the tango shows, my dance instructor was highly amused and she took me to her favorite private dance club for a proper milonga. And woah, the good dancers were all there! None were professionals save for some anchor dancers to partner the paying customers. But the best are the ones who do it as a hobby. Very nice. But instructor sighed in disapproval at my short hair. She said long hair is much preferable to bring out the sensuality of tango. Duhhhhhh. What, can’t short hair be sensuous too?

Crizia

Before we leave Buenos Aires, we’ve somehow earned half an evening off. It was already 8.45pm. We heaved a sigh of relief. Neither of us wanted to stay in for dinner or do any sort of work on the laptop. I’ve largely left the choices of makan venues to the associate as he will sniff out the good ones. He decided to have dinner at Crizia.

The server said that all produce was local (but of course) and the oysters were from Patagonia. So I bravely ate two oysters. Not too briny. Pretty fresh. I skipped the appetizers and went straight to a main of saffron linguine with king crab. Creamy, but ooh so good. I like this restaurant.

It was an evening when we could finally wind down and not think about work, negotiations, reports or briefs for a few hours. So we ordered wine. We’ve tasted many reds from Mendoza. Tonight, we tried a bottle of Malbec from Salta. It was as expected- fruity and easy on the palate. I was doubtful that we could finish a bottle. But we did! Or rather, I had three glasses and the associate finished the rest! He’s way more into wine than I am. I’m so jealous of him because he’s not flying home via Sydney and he could take a bottle of Malbec in the suitcase.

At The Shops

Argentina is also famed for its leather. Quality varies from shop to shop, source to source. However, not all shops stock good stuff and not all styles are pretty. You need to be really selective to pick out the well-stitched ones.

Last week, my heels were killing me. Wearing heels all day, no matter how comfortable they are, hurts after a while. No blisters, but the bunions sent excruciating pain. I wanted to buy the soft leather moccasins which could ease that sharp pain. They're ugly shoes, alright, but some aren't too bad and they're practical. But you know what, they didn't stock the chosen moccasins in blue at this outlet, so I refused to buy them. Muahahahha. After all, a hot soak and a good 7 hours in bed will make the feet feel better. I never quite saw a pleasing design to buy. Or rather, I didn't want to go to the shops to find it.

The bags were quite interesting. The shops in Buenos Aires carry the well-made ones. But it's kinda odd to see all the Mulberry and Hermès designs replicated in other local labels. It's a little tough trying to find something of an original design in a shop. I didn't bother with the bags at all. I've too many bags anyway!

However, a leather jacket is what I want to buy in the country, if I should somehow stumble across one. They've an amazing array of soft leather jackets in various designs and colors. At the boutique with the work associates, I saw one, but hesitated because of the price tag and the only color in stock- brown. But it's well tailored and stitched. The price tag honestly, isn't as hefty as any from the designer labels. When I returned the next day, they found one in black for me. Perfect. I couldn't say no anymore. :)

Not That Royal China

There’re almost no Chinese restaurants in Argentina, but there’re some in Buenos Aires. One edible and presentable restaurant, to be precise. Royal China. It’s got no affiliation to the chain of Royal China we know. It’s just the name used that’s the same. A tad misleading, I would say. Whatever happened to trademarks ah?

When a restaurant of today has no website, I’m almost skeptical. We thought it's some dingy little eatery. We felt better when we saw it. The décor is assuring in the modern chic familiarity of Chinese restaurants. Located in the touristy stretch along the river at Puerto Madero, Royal China has its fair share of customers in the form of locals, expatriates and tourists.

It’s edible because the Chef is from Hong Kong. It was a little disconcerting to have the Chef walk out of the kitchen and speak in Cantonese-accented Mandarin to the manager who’s a Chinese lady. The rest of the staff is Spanish. They do speak a little bit of English. Aside from pointing to the menu when ordering food, it'll be a little tough to ask for other things unless you speak Mandarin or Spanish.

However, the steamed white rice used isn’t the jasmine fragrant rice we know. It’s Argentine long-grain rice. To me, I eat so little that I don’t quite care about it. But the others on the table scrunched up their faces at it and pronounced it “not nice”. Alamak, this isn't a white-rice eating city lah. Their rice is meant to be buttered rice or used in salads. Or as risotto. Duhhh. Anyway, the Chinese dishes were fairly good and OILY. Luckily I didn’t have to eat there more than twice, otherwise, I will not get to eat all the empanadas I want.

Royal China Restaurant, Tel: +54 11 4313-8121

Alicia Moreau de Justo 1808, (at Puerto Madero) Buenos Aires, Argentina

Empanadas!!!

By the end of this trip, my rudimentary grasp of Spanish grammar and vocab is sufficient enough to get me through most food menus, order still or sparkling water, and number of items, ask for the bill, location of washrooms, tell the driver where to go; if he should wait or come back in an hour, etc. But I can’t quite tell the time still.

Need to work on that accent though. If I intend to return to explore the south of Argentina or do a road trip, I’d better pick up Spanish fast. It’s not possible to go through the region without knowing any Spanish and rely solely on English. It’s possible to do that in Buenos Aires, but not ideal. Out in the provinces, it’ll be even more difficult getting your specifications down pat if they’re more complicated than conveying through lousy hand gestures and body language can express.

Since I’ve been given strict instructions to go to El Sanjuanino for the best empanadas in town, I did. It’s located in a good area smack in town, but it was filled with locals! That was how I knew it would be good. And it is. I didn’t even need to ‘practise’ my language skills. It’s not difficult to order food at all, so I merrily ordered all the empanadas I want. Hehehe. There’re all sorts of filling- minced meat, ham, vegetarian, onions, cheese, etc. They come in a single piece on a plate. If you’re not very hungry, one piece is quite satisfactory between 2 huge meals in a day.

I love empanadas. Eating one is the perfect light meal. I was delighted to see that tub of chilli thingy on the table. It was kinda spicy, but not quite possessing enough kick. Better than nothing though!

Italian Food In The City

There're plenty of Italian restaurants sprinkled all over Argentina. There's virtually nothing resembling Spanish food in the country. No tapas, no authentic paella. I suppose it has alot to do with the flood of Italian immigrants coming in during the 1800s. Over the past century, Argentine food features heavily on pastas and pizzas. The pastas are hearty and full of Southern Italian flavors. They do easy-to-eat tomato based sauces really well.

There're some really shite restaurants in the touristy stretch. I don't understand why reviews rave about them. It's crap food placed in a restaurant. Pick your way through the forums and you'll find some good ones. Oviedo and Sottovoce are quite popular in Buenos Aires. Sottovoce is casual, laid back style, churning out pastas by the dozens and while decent, they aren't great. It feels very mass market. I very much prefer Oviedo which prides itself on the cooking and its food. It's cosier and prettier. They offer a better selection of wines too.

I'm definitely not going to be eating Italian food in Singapore for the next month or so. Enough of pastas and pastas and everything. NO MORE. I want sambal and sambal and more sambal.

Through The Supermarket Aisles

At some point, we all needed the supermarket for various purposes of topping up supplies- toothpaste, toothbrush, moisturizers, whatever. We went to the local chain of Disco to run errands. At the same time, we also checked out the wares on offer.

I’ve no idea at what sort of age would someone take interest in a supermarket, especially when she has zero inclination in turning those raw ingredients into cooked food. But for the past few years, I’ve always been fairly happy about stepping into a supermarket in a foreign land. Not just because it tells me consumer habits and social trends, but also because the items seem to emit a cheerful vibe somehow. It's kinda fun seeing the different types of vegetables, corn, grapes and all on the shelves. I was quite tempted to buy cans of olive oil home. But too bad I'm stopping in Sydney. So no food products.

There's a section for Malbecs too. Very cheap- a good decent table quality bottle is between ARS$60 - ARS$160. There're the ARS$22 bottles which really look suspect. But I guess it's like cardboard wine or at best, taste like mulled wine. By the way, while the Disco supermarket in Buenos Aires and the provinces peddle all sorts of Argentine wine at reasonable prices, they don’t sell cigarettes or lighters. The tiny little provision shops along the streets do.

Astrid & Gastón

Aside from empanadas, I'm really not big on the grill and grilled meats in Argentina. I love their risotto, but anywhere can do a fairly good one if there's a sizeable population with Italian heritage. That's not much subtlety to the flavors of cooking the food here.

You know, oddly, Argentina has made me enamored with Peruvian food. I want to go to Peru. The country has destinations with cool names that I like to roll off the tongue and they seem fascinating.

Specifically, Astrid & Gastón has bowled me over with its offerings of Peruvian cusine! Perhaps it's the raw fish thingy, but ceviche is awesome. So is tiradito, which is similar but using a different cut of fish and the dish doesn't contain onions. (Don't bother comparing it with Nobu. Nobu has nothing on this restaurant when it comes to authenticity and the right-there Peruvian ingredients.)

From what I understand of Peru, they've exciting potatoes with thousands of species originating from the region. Then, there's the amazing multi-colored corn of Peru that doesn't taste like corn. I must try! There's so much emphasis on food in Peru. The liberal use of spices and adventurous experiments with food resulted in a cuisine that's more than interesting. It's a fusion of sorts, yes, but a good blend.

I'm glad to be back in Buenos Aires. At least there're less surprises here on the work front. Whew. The evening at Astrid & Gastón was quite an experience. I loved it. My simple spaghetti of vegetables was so flavorful and almost a tad complex! The owners have lovingly kept its restaurant small in order to churn out the quality food that they want. The decor is quite charming. It's one of the reputed names in the Americas. The menu excites my tastebuds, and that's quite a rarity nowadays.

Day Out :: Trotting

Out in Miramar, one can't help but be awed by the expanse of the land and the beauty of Mother Nature. There's so much richness and resources in this country. It's quite breathtaking.

The one thing I secretly wanted to do in Argentina is to ride a horse through the lands. I didn't think there's an opportunity to do so. When my hosts offered their horses for the morning to have a look-around, I couldn't resist saying yes with a wagonload of obvious enthusiasm. To their credit, my hosts didn't raise any eyebrows in wonder of my abilities to ride a horse. There would be a saddle anyway. And the stablehands sorted that out for me. Nice.

I've not met Argentine horses- the Criollo. They are serious workhorses, not known for speed, but famous for their endurance. I was quite excited to get up close and personal. I miss the smell of clean and groomed horses. The Criollo generally possess a good temperament and I didn't have to spend much time getting to know them. They were really friendly that morning. Apples work really well across all breeds.

There hasn't been much chance for any sort of outdoor workouts aside from stretches in the room. I'm quite iffy about getting into the swimming pools at the hotels. Now, out at the farmstead, all my bones were twitching to run and jump. This invitation to ride was more than timely. I wanted to ride without the saddle, but I wasn't about to tempt fate. There're only two horses in the world whom I'll rid the saddle and they're far far away in England. So I dutifully saddled up and went trotting around the vast perimeter of the estate. It's a huge property and it's a brilliant splendid day. As we rode along, the rest of the horses came alongside for a canter.