I Broke The Box

(Photo reproduced with permission from Corsage.)

You see, when a little girl does it, it's SO CUTE. She could even pull a rather large poofy Tigger in there for company.

But when much bigger imp attempted the same trick in the same box the little girl used, the plushies stared at the antics with ill-concealed sniggers.

Of course, the box wasn't made the hold the size of my butt. When a side of the box gave way, the girlfriend kindly offered to staple it back before we took this photo. Then hysterical laughter filled the room. Bah.

Off To See Wrist Bling!

A little bit of Geneva came over to the National Museum in the form of an exhibition of the timepieces from Vacheron Constantin. We were a little surprised to find out that it's free admission to the gallery. How nice! We were prepared to pay an entrance fee! It isn't a tiny space or miserable range on display. It's quite a sizeable collection which made for an eye-pleasing blinged-up stroll. We turned up at the museum at 10.15am to beat the crowds. By the time we left at noon or so, many others were streaming in.

The exhibition walks you through the watchmaker's history and heritage, putting the different watches of the era in categories of precision movements and meshing art with technical perfection. Such an intricate art watchmaking is. I was quite fascinated with the videos detailing the work of these masters of their craft.

There're plenty of timepieces towards the finale of the exhibition which can only be termed as artworks. Not just for jewelry and precious stones encased within and on the exteriors, but of enamel art so exquisite that it's breathtaking. I appreciate the pocket watches most. Those are beautiful in their stark simplicity.

Interlude At Bukit Brown Cemetery

(Photos, care of D)

The first thing that strikes you is the serenity of Bukit Brown Cemetery. Opened in 1922 and closed in 1973, many buried there are Chinese pioneers of Singapore, and this is one of the last lush areas of verdant green we'll see in the country. Those old trees tower above us, majestic and stately. When this oasis is gone, our memories of this spot will remain.

You know how much I love wandering through cemeteries. The girlfriend is just as enamored with cemeteries and graveyards. So on a day when the weather cooperated by being cloudy and overcast, we hopped over in a heartbeat. The best part, there were no other visitors but us. YAYYYY!

I've visited a long time ago as a young imp, but highlights of the trip had been forgotten. Probably two decades later, meandering through the paths feel, different. Honestly, I've never felt a sense of history to the graves nor the place. It's historical, yes, a resting place to the ancestors of our founding fathers, and of the people who built this country from soil and toil. But that is all, I don't feel anything more. The country moves on, we look forward and think little of the past. We've sprung forth as a country of immigrants, and going by our current policies, we'll always be a country of immigrants. If you ask me how much I care, I'll tell you, it's damn little. If this place has to be gazetted, it has to be done. I've no illusions about it. We've no land and we (not me) want to hit a population of 7 million soon. This country is near overflowing with imminent housing issues; something's gotta give. But I hope that a portion of it could be kept to preserve what little memory we have of old Singapore.

The graves are tranquil in the undergrowth. Many are clearly abandoned, but some have been lovingly cleared and tended to. Many fresh oranges have been left at these graves, and incense and paper offerings burnt for them. Even the graves have a sort of fashion. The older graves don't carry faded photos and the later-era ones do. Even the design and the 'guards' of the graves follow the fashion of the day. It's fascinating especially when our assumptions correlate with the year of death in the similar time period.

The girlfriend takes an avid interest in birds. She can spot them way faster than I ever could, and tell me the species. Win. But the birds weren't keen to be photographed today. We could hear them loud and clear, but the physical forms eluded us.

We leisurely strolled around for the hour. While you could stay on the even path, we chose to brave the mozzies to trudge up and down the overgrown trails to peer at photos and wordings on the headstones. The API has thoughtfully set up directional tapes and placards with tiny markers to indicate whose grave might be of notable interest to visitors.

We cleverly didn't bother with a walking map. Well, how lost could we be? This is an urban sprawl. We meandered through the paths to a big fork. Luckily GoogleMaps indicated that we were walking away from our intended exit. We saw passing cars (wondered where they went, because they all turned back very quickly!) and stopped one to ask if they had come from the Lorong Halwa entrance. They did. So we made a turn and within minutes, we were back at where we started.

The girlfriend had fun capturing the scampering monkeys through her lens. I'm super wary of monkeys and inched closer to the car. Ugh. Monkeys simply spell trouble! In spite of the almost cool weather, the humidity was sapping. After wiping down, I was quite happy to plonk in the car with the air-conditioning turned on.

(Do also hop by to read notabilia's and Flora's thoughts on this cemetery, and Liz McKenzie's 'elegy'.)

To Catch A Dream

Now that I've got huge spaces of time opening up, it's amazing how many books I can plough through in a week even if it's packed with activities. If I have pockets of empty slots in the calendar, they're blocked to spend time reading either at home, or at the friends'.

The friends are just as voracious readers. It's rather companionable to spend 2 hours in silence, absorbed in our respective books. With a singleminded focus, completing 5 novels a week can be quite easily done nowadays.

I could talk about so many books and their content, but it would never be as well written as olduvai's posts. On a random day armed with a pitcher of freshly made iced lemon tea, I picked out Alex Marsh's 'Sex & Bowls & Rock & Roll'- How I Swapped My Rock Dreams for Village Greens. Well, not that I'm that interested in lawn bowling. But that could be replaced by any other mundane activity. Often, it's about the metaphors.

While it's quite a funny little book, it isn't a happy story, at least not to me. At the end of it, I pity the protagonist. Yes, it's one thing to be defeated by reality, but it's quite another to make an attempt to balance it. I choose to view him as surrendering to his life's demands. This is something I understand, but find it hard to accept. And in that acceptance, we trade some of our individuality for the struggling position to live in this society.

I laughed my head off at this paragraph. Oh so true, don't we know this all too well? We know stereotypes like that, oh for sure.

"That is the thing with people in pubs. You can talk to them for years and years and still know next to nothing about them. Whereas if you find somebody in a pub that is keen to reveal their life story within the space of three pints, then your best bet is to set yourself on fire."

You might not be a rock star, but you could still make music, and remain true to that ideal. And somehow, chase the passion in fleeting doses, because we have to live. As children, we had dreams. How many have we fulfilled? How many have we passed on because we don't have the passion anymore, or we choose to give it up for something else? How do you live with yourself, when at the end of the day, you die with so many regrets and unfulfilled dreams?

"So that is that. // Never go back. Never try to recapture. // I have my bowls, I have my important househusbanding role. Why did I ever think I could make it more? The music boat has passed- I have missed it. It is time to stop pretending. Really time, this time."

Food For Adults & Children

So glad everyone could make it to the evening because one of the ladies took wonderful initiative to arrange it weeks ago!! Wieeeeee! We never make it to lunch on the week days because of our crazy schedules. To think many aspects of our work lives cross paths rather frequently (then). Each time we arrange something, it's always gotta be dinners or weekend brunches. :) A random thought- these ladies would be fun to work with in a team. A pity we never had the chance to. It'd have been quite a scream, I'm sure. They're superbly sane, perceptive, efficient, optimistic and determined. These girls don't whine. Period. They just go resolve the issues. They are in the know and they know how to run things well.

The ones with the little tots take most efforts to juggle their schedules. Thrilled that we could make the 7pm timing for dinner this round. If this was a usual work day, we wouldn't be able to turn up till 8pm at least. WOOTS! I even had time to zip by the yoghurt stall to share a mouthful with a little girl. I like talking to the little boy. He has unassailable logic that stands up to all reasoning and questioning, which leaves me very impressed. But you should have seen his mom roll her eyes. Kekekekekekek.

Zhou's Kitchen :: Plenty of green vegetables :: Tasty beehoon in fish stock :: Temporary play area :: Sharing of toy cars and giggles :: Sports-shop :: Cafe :: Decaf coffee :: Oatmeal and raisins biscuits and a big slice of yuzu sponge cake ::

Album Launch :: A Universe Made Of Strings

I've heard snippets of the music. Of course we've heard Glaciers that has been floating around for a year. Mostly, I tried to ignore the samplers of the new pieces, turn off Lush 99.5, wanting to save the experience of the full sonic boom for the night of the album launch.

At least, I'm assured of a very tight 'In Each Hand A Cutlass'. No fumbling, not a sign of hesitance, and all confident melodic prog rock. It felt like a movie set, and when the band began, it was as if we're sitting through a movie- your own movie that you could conjure up in the head. Vast soundtracks where the interpretation is only limited by one's imagination.

Soundscapes lit the mind. There could be so many things to think about. Instead of epic dance steps, I kept thinking of zombies, and the killing sequences. You know, like how you don't need to talk when you're shooting, hacking and splattered with blood? You just need that music to feel like a justified killer. Soundtracks. They tend to make you feel invincible.

There was attention paid to the set. Barrels, bottles of rum, the flickering bulbs in the storm lamps, candlesticks, fake skulls, netting, and of course, a pirate ship to put people in the mood! Esplanade Recital Studio is one of the best venues around. Not just in terms of tech support, but in terms of acoustics and sound. It was the ideal venue for IEHAC's genre of music where you need to be blasted with each detail and complexity of all the layers of the pieces. We really wouldn't have minded standing though. It would be quite cool to bob along, lost in our minds for that hour. An Amaranthine Journey indeed.

It was wonderful to see the friends get together for the evening, in support of either the humans or the music. A sold-out gig does wonders for the band's morale. Already intending to give their best, the band went into a total state of exultation and played their hearts out last night. Until they had to sheepishly announce that there would be no encore because they had no more songs!

Yes, those bottles of Angostura rum on the set were real. :)

(Photos courtesy of Leonard Soosay)

Horror, Illustrated

The girlfriend hosted lunch and tea at home for us. Very nice to have these girls in town for an afternoon chat. We zipped straight to the host's bookshelves and rudely rummaged through her current titles.

Conversation somehow centred on graphic novels and an intense discussion of Neil Gaiman's works past and current. We traded tales of how we, separately, caught Amanda Palmer's gigs around the world.

I'm no expert on graphic novels. The last time I called the boys' heroes belonging to the monopoly of 'Mar-Velle', they had collective apoplexy. "Mar-VEL! Marrrrr....verrrrrrr!" Whatever. Kekekekekeke. But I do know my favorites. Like Fables. You can't deny the obvious similarities between Sandman, Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns.

We spent the next 2 hours in near silence, eagerly flipping through old favorites and passing them around, Wolves In The Walls, Blueberry Girl, Crazy Hair, Odd and the Frost Giants, Instructions, The Dangerous Alphabet, Interworld, The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish and The Facts in the Case of the Departure of Miss Finch. Our iPads and Kindles were gleefully abandoned on the table, snug inside their jackets. When it comes down to it, nothing, absolutely nothing beats the quaint act of flipping a real, physical page.

The iPod dutifully churned out Bon Iver, Natural Milk Hotel, Gomez, The National, Ben Folds, Amanda Palmer, Lunarin, In Each Hand A Cutlass, The Observatory, Turin Brakes, Noughts & Exes, Two Door Cinema Club, Belle & Sebastian, Deathcab for Cutie, Iron and Wine, Brett Dennen.....the sorts. A perfect afternoon.

Ahhh....good times. Fairytales with a twist. Childhood friends from different schools, we've always read together as children, then teenagers, devouring horror, fantasy, thrillers and literature classics by the dozens; sharing books, homework, essay points, insights and library cards. :) Oddly, our music tastes coincide and from an era of sharing mix-tapes, we now share ummm....stuff on soundcloud and from our iTunes library. Now that we've grown, it's so comforting to still do these sessions with the girls regularly. Can't wait for the next session! We're doing Gris Grimly and Susan Pearson.

Cufflinks!

The man's got some swanky new shirts tailored. He sent me out with instructions to get him a couple of fun cufflinks. "Not those from your shite designer labels, and not those fancy corporate ones. FUN, okay? It doesn't have to cost a bomb as I'd probably lose them. But it has to be fun. A bad-ass theme preferably."

So I trotted off to a mall where the men's section stocks all sorts of cufflinks. Fancy, dowdy, diamond-y, silver, gold-plated, fun, plastic, steel...everything! I stared at a few shelves with wares on display. I took a couple of photos according to the theme that the man had set, and sent it over to him for his selection. He made his decisions pretty quickly. He picked lots of stuff that I knew he'd identify with and would have no issues with literally wearing his heart on his sleeve. But he rejected the teddy bears. Bleah.

Shopping on a weekday is almost pleasurable. The aisles are empty, and the sales people seem that bit friendlier. No queue at the cashiers' and I didn't feel too harassed. 15 minutes later, with my mission accomplished, I was out of the mall and on my merry way to lunch. Nice.

A Universe Made Of Strings

What: Album launch "A Universe Made of Strings"

When: Friday 24 June 2011, 9.30pm

Where: Esplanade Recital Studio

How much: S$28 per ticket at all SISTIC outlets

[Click here for a 5-min raw video.]

A Quiet Sort Of Afternoon

It's wonderful when schedules match. I was lucky to have the company of a lovely girlfriend to while the day away by doing nothing in particular. These days are still a novelty for me. For her, such days are few and precious to come by.

Using The Scary Taba Ng Talangka

The man has been flooded at work and everything else, so he hasn't been cooking very much this year. There's been too much of a social whirl for him. This weekend, he was a little less stressed. There's quite a load of exciting things happening for him these 2 weeks, so he's been quite happy. Tonight, he was somehow in a mood to prep a light dinner.

The man braved the Sunday crowd at Lucky Plaza to zip into one of the grocery stores to buy a jar of crab fat, otherwise known as taba ng talangka. I don't know if it's purely defined as 'fats', but it's a paste made from small shore crabs, which would be alot of crushed roe and crustaceans. There're also vinegar, corn oil, garlic and some food coloring in the paste. MSG too, I suspect. We've been told to avoid the ones that are in bright orange and go for the jars with darker hues.

With the maid helping out, the man was very quick in the kitchen. Within an hour, dinner was served. My gawwd. The linguine of crabmeat and scallops that came out of the man's pan would be filled with alot of cholesterol from the taba ng talangka. Admittedly, it was tasty. I dread to think how unhealthy this meal was. Never mind. Eat first, worry later. I tasted something else that was really familiar, but I couldn't place it. "Vodka. Grey Goose." The man smugly announced. Okaaay, that was ALOT of vodka used! I quite like the dosage in this crab meat pasta. Good balance.

Accompanying the pasta was a huge mountain of pan-fried zucchini and peppers in an anchovy mix. Crunchy delicious. I happily chomped up lots of vegetables. No, he didn't put any taba ng talangka into the vegetables. Whew!

I gladly washed up the dishes, pots and pans; scrubbed the stove, walls and table, then left the maid to mop the kitchen floor. I've missed the man's cooking loads! I've never really cooked in my life and I don't ever intend to cook or bake. Either, doesn't appeal at all. I don't understand it and I don't want to do it. I honestly prefer washing up after meals. Very therapeutic. Just as well the man has a serious passion for all things culinary. Ha.

Saturday in Pink

Saturday morning was spent in ill-concealed anger. I was trying not to tear all my hair out poring through paperwork. I chomped down lunch while listening to the old folks' chatter. The mind wandered and looked forward to the other activities for the next half of the day.

Hong Lim Park :: Pink Dot :: Esplanade Outdoor Theatre :: TOI :: Barossa :: Pizza :: The Substation :: Envy :: Timbre :: Beer :: Brussels Sprouts :: Mussels and fries :: Friends' cosy flat :: Awesome single malts ::

Look Before You Eat!

The man shrieked and swiveled the chair around. "Why did you leave this on the desk?! You almost poisoned me! I thought this is mochi!" I stared at the thing he was wildly waving around and went into uncontrollable laughter.

I was like, dude! This is far from anything resembling an edible mochi. And the words on the packaging are in French and English! See, it reads "Soap with Verbena Leaves." The man is very funny lah. He simply assumed the color green equals mochi and picked it up to tear apart. At least he had paused to wonder why this one is so hard instead of being nice squishy soft.

Now, in the photo below, this is the real daifuku mochi in a green tea flavor. It can only last 1 day after my return because these are the fresh sort. I don't fancy them, but the man does. So besides the dorayaki I brought back, there's another box of daifuku mochi sitting in the fridge for him. I'm not trying to poison him! Kekekekekeek.

You've Been A Great Host, Tokyo!

What a lovely stretch of gardens at Meiji Shrine. I like the tranquility of this place.

It must be amazing to sit here for two hours or so to sketch and paint.

To Two Museums

It was a trade-off. The bff dragged me to the shops for a full day (a friggin' torture), and she would have to trot along with me to the pilates studio and the museums. I told her she could stay in to surf and resolve her internet addiction issues while I went out to gallivant. But she wanted to move the limbs and soak up the art. OKAY! 

After a morning session at the studio with the most polite of instructors who kept bowing and bowing till we were rather bemused, we hopped onto the subway to meet the friends for lunch and then stroll around. It was a pleasure to meander through the historic artifacts at Tokyo National Museum and then head to a contemporary interpretation at the Mori Art Museum. However, the opening hours for both museums have been altered since March 2011. I've no idea if it's got anything to do with saving electricity, but on many days, the exhibitions close at 5pm.

The Tokyo National Museum is like a shrine, sorta. It's got that same vibe of calm and zen. I felt like I had to be quiet as a mouse and move really slowly. There was hushed appreciation of the Japanese's religion in "Buddha - The Story in Manga and Art" by renowned manga artist Tezuka Osamu. I generally don't quite get anime or manga. But sometimes I do, like 'Slam Dunk', although I never understood basketball.

We moved on to Roppongi Hills to the Mori Art Museum. We stared really hard at the projects that won the Marcel Duchamp Prize titled "French Window". I lingered over Saâdane Afif's "The Skull". Very fascinating in the use of reflection and space. There was another untitled exhibit by Mathieu Mercier that seemed to be an acrylic standalone French window, overlooking the Tokyo city scape. Quite stark in its simplicity. As we moved through the spaces, the bff remarked, "See, contemporary art is reflective and depressing." Well, when is it not?

It was a cloudy afternoon and we couldn't see very much of the city scape from Mori Tower's observatory. It was nice to sit still for a bit and stare out of the windows. The BFF and I glanced at each other and away again. We didn't have to ask what the other's thoughts were. We knew. We were wondering "what next" for our next stage in lives. We wouldn't have an answer now. Maybe in another couple of months. Are we lost? Nope. We live by the motto 'carpe diem' and even at this age, we daresay we've very little regrets in life. Assuming we live to a healthy 75, we're almost midway through.

After dinner, on a whim, we drove out to Tokyo Tower. It's probably going to be quite redundant in the later part of the year when the city moves to digital broadcasts. The 634m-tall Tokyo Sky Tree will take its place in television broadcast history. We got there at 9.55pm, grabbed our photos, stared upwards for a bit and the 176 floodlights went off at 10pm. Shrouded in darkness, the 333m tower then looked exactly like the unemotional industrial steel structure it is, reminding us that this is a city in the middle of a robust electricity/energy-saving effort.

Do we like Tokyo enough? Half and half. It's good to experience Tokyo with the BFF again. Cycle of life, I call it. The BFF and I, we've done much together and went through plenty of chapters in life side by side. She's not your sweetie pie; she's a tough chick. I give her unquestioning loyalty, and she lends me unstinting support. Long ago, I've told the man to never make me choose between him or the BFF. It'll always be the BFF. (Well, she's perfectly reasonable anyway.) To that end, he's been VERY NICE to my bff. Heeeeeeee. 

Here's to 27 years of friendship and counting, babe. Salut.

Soba (そば)

This is what I would term as an ultimate happy meal. I like 'em kinda plain and cold. Either a zaru soba (笊蕎麦) or a hiyashi soba (冷やし蕎麦) will do fine. But they must come with quail eggs. :) You know I slurp them up raw instead of stirring it into the noodles.

Tempura (天ぷら)

We were probably not very sober on this day, starting mid-day with beer at Asahi Beer Hall and Tower. I fail to see how the golden flame errected above the Beer Hall reflects the soul of the company- the burning Flamme d'Or is supposed represent 'Asahi Super Dry'. All it shrieked out to me is how unmistakable Philippe Starck's ego has imprints all over it. Please resist all rude impulses to call it a piece of golden turd. Anyway, the flow of Asahi beer continued at lunch in the nearby restaurants.

Most places don't do a good batter to produce yummy tempura (天ぷら). Or they use a rather strange sort of oil to fry the batter which can taste quite off. I can tell the rather obvious differences in tempura if it's been dunked in vegetable oil, canola oil or sesame oil. It's not easy to find a restaurant that can do tempura well, not in Singapore and also not in Tokyo.

We enthusiastically checked out two touristy tempura restaurants in Asakusa- Aoi-Marushin (葵丸進) and Daikokuya (大黒家). They didn't look too bad. At least when we were there, hordes of locals were having lunch. Not so many tourists were present. Big premises, by Tokyo standards.

While the tempura restaurants also serve sushi, I think you could give it a miss. The sushi doesn't look good. The sizes are too big! There was sushi on our table and I tried a piece. It was of an inferior cut of fish atop tasteless rice and too thickly rolled. Not a proper piece of sushi. These sort of cuts of fish are suited to be eaten cooked, not raw. They did way better beneath a cheerful bright golden layer.

Giant prawns and fresh vegetables fried in light crisp batter that didn't ooze oil when served. Best of all, they didn't stink of stale oil. These have been properly done fresh in the morning and upon placing of our orders. I'm not an expert on tempura since I'm no huge fan. But I could discern the fresh oil and batter used in the food. The kitchen took care not to leave burnt bits in the oil because that would be very obvious to taste. The kitchen's got pride in serving their customers. However, between these 2 supposedly popular tempura restaurants in Tokyo, I don't eat enough to be able to tell the differences. Both seem rather good. We don't appreciate tempura enough to go to 7chome Kyoboshi to put it to test.

I cringed when the friends chomped up batter-covered aojiso (or shiso/perilla) leaves. I like the seeds in cookies well enough, but I haven't learnt to eat it raw. It reminds me of scary mint leaves, although logically, it doesn't taste anything like that. The okra is another scary vegetable too. Probably the texture that I never got used to. As a kid, I always ran away screaming from okra. Heeeeeee. I love the bell peppers, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, eggplants and the other vegetables fine.

Izakaya (いざかや)

An izakaya is an ideal group dining venue. We settled a number of meals at Teyandei at Nishi-Azabu, Ogikubo Ichibe at Ogikubo and Galali at Omotesando. They serve enough variety of food at a decent quality to satisfy all tastebuds. Many of us don't take the red meat and chicken, so it's pretty cool to have grilled seafood and vegetables.

However, the point of the friends dragging us there, was for the sake, or nihonshu. At each joint, the friends would insist on a full lesson to Japanese sake. I don't know anything about Japanese sake, but am forced to not have the brain shut down at each session! It would help if I could read more of the labels! At least understanding the complexity of sake is more intuitive than wine. The processes are fairly similar to whisky-making. I'll never get wine.

The bottles, oh the bottles. 5 big bottles at each meal at an izakaya, to be shared among between 6 - 8 people. ARRRRGH. Not that easily done! We noted that we would be tasting ginjo in all forms. First, genshu would be plonked on the table, followed by nigorizake, seishu, tobingakoi, and ending with a sweet-ish koshu. I'm definitely no expert to remember all these names. As I pen this post, I've to look at my photos and google to see what we skipped and those that went down the throat.

With copious amounts of sake in sight, I will ask for a bowl of rice with the meal to share with someone else. Without the carbs, it's impossible to line the stomach for all the drinking. Food alone is fine, but my stomach requires a tad of carbs to balance the effects of any possible hangover. I haven't had any. Heh. TOUCH WOOD!

Coffeeshop

We randomly strolled into an old-school Japanese coffeeshop for coffee and a nibble. I was tired and needed a sugar boost. If you don't speak Japanese or read it, just point to whatever photos on the wall or on the menu, and use body language. The servers are usually the owners too and are generally very nice people. We got by with our meagre Japanese.

There was an apple pastry...something. There was a thin slice of cheesecake too. Both came on teeny tiny plates. They were perfect. Almost bite-sized. I literally wanted one bite. Both were strangely not sweet. The bff didn't want to finish them. Muahahahahah. But I couldn't finish them either. So we left them aside and lingered over the coffee which tasted like strong tea instead.

We were in no hurry to go anywhere. It was kinda nice to space out for a bit in the middle of the day and watch the going-ons in the bustling neighborhood. The bff gave me the once-over. "The job really gave you an aversion to gold taps, silver service and restaurants with white linen tablecloth huh?"

I tore away from my intense eavesdropping at the conversation between 2 old ladies. We've been eating well this trip, but on wooden tops and minimal decor. The more stark it is, the better. No Michelin-star anything, thankyou. "Yes. For a while, at least. It has made me more anti-social, if anything. There's beauty in simplicity and the rougher side of the table. I just need a tap that's made of bloody stainless steel."

For A Cup Of Coffee

Tokyo's answer to Starbucks is in the form of the self-service Doutor and full-service Excelsior Cafe. Stepping into them is alright, but the coffee is just as bad as its American counterpart. Their sandwiches don't look appetizing at all.

It's almost like how we hopped into the maid cafes in the city and the friends warned us not to have any sort of expectations about the quality of food and drinks at the cafes. You're paying for a concept, not quality. I did some serious eye-rolling there. It's just so weird man. Saying "Mo-e, mo-e, kyun!" doesn't endear you to me and it isn't going to make your food or drinks taste any better.

Quick fixes are grabbed from Starbucks and Tully's. They're everywhere! Much better than crap coffee from random cafes or even from the hotel's machines. On mornings when I really want a good cup of caffeine, I make the trek to Cafe de l'Ambre at Ginza and Paul Bassett at Meguro-ku. Those, serve real coffee that hits a spot.

I'm in a metropolis, so I demand coffee which doesn't taste like muddy water. There must be good coffee found somewhere. As usual, the internetz and the friends are a great source of information. Trust me, it's worth the trek to these 2 cafes. However, bear in mind that I judge cafes based strictly on their cafe latte, cappuccino and flat whites. No sugar. I like my caffeine to arrive in a basic form. That rich creamy coffee with its beautiful beans wake you up with its aroma before the first sip. Fortifying. Their coffees are fabulous.

We've been really lucky with the weather. The rainstorms have held off and it's been rather sunny and warm throughout. The rains are scheduled to return over the weekend and next week. Currently, it's just cool and comfortable. Perfect coffee weather, I call it.

Onigiri!!!

I love onigiri. These are carbs which I tend to stay away from. But I can't reject pilaf and Japanese rice. I LOVE onigiri. Truly. And this is onigiri-land. So many different kinds! I don't need the freshly made ones or anything exquisite. Just those found in the supermarkets or convenience stores are good enough to satiate a craving. Each time we walk into a convenience store, the friends will find me in front of the shelves of onigiri, drooling.

Since we're walking quite a fair bit in the city, sometimes we buy it as a snack in between destinations for a boost of energy. The size of one is just about right for a light lunch on-the-go. They've got all sorts of filling in there. Luckily we can understand what the labels say. We do know how to read Japanese, and by that, I don't mean cheating by reading the kanji. We haven't entirely forgotten what went on in the long-ago Japanese lessons. The bff's Japanese, is way more fluent than mine though. She makes frequent trips to Japan and is familiar with the city, enough to stop me from doing the rude thing of eating and walking at the same time.

So. I've been eating an onigiri a day. Absolutely awesome. Hehehhheehhe.

Ikura & Uni Don

The tuna auctions at Tsukiji Market have been closed to the public for a while from 2010, but somehow, recently, they have relaxed the regulations to allow the first 140 visitors to witness it. Don't know how long it will last.

This trip, I've got alot of ethical issues going on in my head as what I'm seeing now completely opposes to the tasks done earlier at the Izu Islands. Which probably explains why I've subconsciously stayed away from Japan for the past few years. I care, very much, about what I put into my stomach and the sustainability of the sources of food. Japanese cuisine, has always walked the fine line between diatribe and exculpation in the dictionary of marine environmentalists.

We planned for food at some point at Tsukiji Market. We didn't know which stalls to check out. To us, one is as good as the other. The Japanese friends aren't sure which stalls are good either, and had to check out reviews online. Muahahahhaha. We didn't bother with the sushi places of which I can't ever remember their names. I remember the queues and wasn't interested to repeat that. The sushi was good, but not that great. Something about the cuts that I don't quite fancy. When we finally decided to check out the food at 11am, it was a little sad. There're so few tourists now in Tokyo that there aren't very long queues anywhere at the eateries. Quite a number of locals, but very few foreigners.

We wanted a simple lunch and randomly hopped into a casual eatery. It was popular, but we only waited in line for 5 minutes. Not too bad. It was just a 16-seater or something. Very small premises. I'm always surprised at how tiny these places are. How do people fit in?! This is a tuna and uni sort of place. Today, the fish didn't appeal to me at all. So I picked my lunch of ikura and uni don. If the ingredients aren't fresh, this will turn out horrible. But I have total faith in the chefs and the fact that it's right there at the market. Unbeatable quality. For ¥1750 a set that comes with appetizer, soup and pickles, it's a superb deal for such fresh ikura and uni. Not much shoyu needed.

On The Trains

The BFF sourced for the best flight timings and within 20 minutes, decided our flight path. We flew into Haneda and will head out from Narita. Flights secured at sane and decent timings on SQ. Hurrah!

The one thing I try not to do in any city, is to lug tons of luggage and take trains or buses into town and the hotel we're staying at. That can be a little grating. I'm quite done with backpacking and budget trips, thankyou. It's either I pack less or ensure that the budget covers cars for a pick-up or at disposal, no matter which city.

However, in Japan, most people will take the airport limousine buses and trains rather than the cabs because in Tokyo, it's like S$150 into town from Haneda and S$400 into town from Narita. I do the same too, there're four of us and we'll just book a car. I don't bother too much with the cabs because the flag down fare is ¥710 and the meter jumps ridiculously fast. Each cab ride will average about ¥4000 for a 15-minute ride around the city. I might as well hire a car and a driver.

I believe that a city is best experienced on its public transportation, if it's efficient enough. But of course, one can skip that in certain cities. :P We really don't need the driver much in Tokyo, except on days where it drizzled and the weekend when rainstorms are predicted or if massive shopping bags are procured. A car is necessary for dinner though, because we head to places that are a good 45-minute walk from the nearest train station.

In Tokyo, it's quite easy to get around on the trains and the metro. The train and subway maps look mind-boggling, but it's really not difficult to sort out. Just carry maps in both Japanese and English, and you can't go wrong. We avoid the subway during peak hours and it's been quite a pleasure hopping in and out of the trains. We even had seats most of the time. I almost enjoyed it, to see how the Japanese dress and travel around the city, and how nobody talks loudly on the phones in the trains or have shrill sounds emit from their gadgets.

Sweets

Since nobody was seriously interested in macarons; given that many just returned from London and Paris, we skipped Ladurée and Pierre Hermé, and settled for Jean-Paul Hévin. Boxes of chocolates were procured for the friends in Japan. At the same time, we were intrigued by its display of macarons which threatened to overpower its chocolates. So we bought some for a taste. The friends forced me to take a bite at the edge. I shuddered. Too sweet. I don't know anything about macarons. Eeeeeeks.

I suppose the same could be said for the rest of the beautifully packaged Japanese confectionery at the supermarkets and dessert stands. A saccharine horror of candy-coated sugary edibles. There's a dazzling array of colors and variety available. if you're in the market for desserts and sweets, you'll be totally spoilt for choice. If you love sweets, this will be your idea of paradise.

Felt nauseated by just looking at the desserts. Amai-ne! I'm so not a fan of desserts at all, not Chinese, not Western, not Turkish, not South American, zilch. Even chocolates- I'm not big about it. I will take a tiny nibble, and that is all. Unless it's apple crumble. That, I love. I admire how the Japanese do their packaging though. No expenses spared for the boxes, wrappers and ribbons. Very meticulously done.

The Sushi (寿司)

In my twenties, there was a period of decadence when we'd go to Japan once a month for a long weekend to her cities for the specific purpose of indulging in gastronomic feasts on sushi and sashimi. We sampled the breadth and depth of Japanese cuisine, everything that's been sustainably sourced or otherwise. The latter comprised of a huge chunk of education and subsequent guilt. Years later, on this trip, I've completed my list of restaurants to check out. But I didn't step through their doors without alot of inner struggle with my bohemian hippie alter.

My favorite is still the tiny, plain and unassuming Sushi Mizutani. It's probably my favorite Japanese restaurant in the whole wide world. Sushi Hashida comes a close second, then Sushi Saito. Securing the reservations at these three places on the dates I wanted was difficult and it took a bit of a compromise, some very kind arrangements, goodwill and switch-around of dates to make it happen. These reservations were more precious than yellow diamonds, considering the average lead-time is three months. And it happened, magically. I'm still in a bit of a sushi delirium.

I'm still okay with Sushi Kanesaka, but not enamored with its Shinji in Singapore. A lunch at Sushi Kanesaka in Singapore confirmed that I still prefer the Tokyo restaurant. I'm still undecided about Sushi Araki. That experience is really cool but I'm not sure where to categorize it in my head. We were taken to Sukiyabashi Jiro, where it was good, but honestly, unmemorable. It kinda pales in comparison with the others. At least it doesn't appeal to me. The differentiating factor, the fish. I'm quite in love with Sushi Saito's rice. But in a sublime stroke of the chef's knife, the cuts of fish at Mizutani came across as more delicate. In Tokyo, it's no longer about the freshness of the ingredients. That's a given. It's all about the skills and mastery of the chef over the meat. Oh, bring wads of cash. Most brilliant restaurants don't accept credit cards.

(And I don't have to dress up at these restaurants! I simply wore jeans! WOOOOTS.)

Since those hedonistic days, we've all gradually declined to have chutoro and otoro in our Japanese meals because we simply don't trust the sources of any Japanese restaurant anywhere. It's a paradox of sorts, almost hypocritical in many ways- we like sushi, but we don't trust the kitchens. The bff rejects tuna, period. She doesn't even like tuna chunks in a can. It's kinda weird to request for an omakase meal in Tokyo, then state our preferences for the choice of fish. Luckily there're poetic and tactful Japanese speakers in our midst who could point out that somehow, as a group, we choose to avoid tuna completely. The true mark of a chef, as we've been shown, is how he respects the diners' preferences, making his recommendations, but never pushing. These sushi chefs, they've an aura of zen and impeccable decorum. And therein, lies the true irony of Japanese sushi and sashimi.

In The Alley

Strolling along the streets of historic Asakusa.

Looking every inch like a tourist.

Dried Things Look The Same

The bff was looking for munchies to buy as gifts and to eat along the way. She wanted umeboshi (dried ume). She told me to stay in and she would only be a quick while. I no like munchies, but I wanted to kaypoh at the astonishing range available. So we went around the dried fruits' section. I saw plenty of boxes of exciting stuff and took a peek.

"Ume!" I animatedly picked up a box. She looked at it, sighed and shook her head. "This isn't ume. It's your favorite thing." I stared at it from all corners for a really long time before I realized that it was.....fig. Dried figs. The bff had this look of utter resignation on her face. She was not going to explain what were the contents in each box laid out across the shelves. Heh.

The bff took a box from the next box. "Here, this is ume." They looked similar! Except that one's bigger than the other! She glared at me. "They don't look the same." She was most emphatic about it. She pointed out the differences in the folds and shapes of the fruits while I stood there looking quite dazed. Finally, she thrusted both boxes at me and told me to be a good girl to study the both closely while she went around grabbing other stuff.

When she came back, she eyeballed me for a bit and went off again to pay for her purchases. Hmmmmpf. They still look quite the same to me, except their sizes! Chehhh. But I can differentiate between these and dried persimmons.

Colors Aplenty

We meandered through the streets to look at colorful knick knacks. KAWAII NE!

Naturally, we succumbed to temptation. Bought random stuff that we don't really know what to do with. Like rests for chopsticks, sake bottles and cups, paper and silk fans, silk pouches and bags.

Back in the room, I decided against carrying them home. So they were packed into boxes to be shipped to the aunts and other humans living overseas. :)

Whisky

A trip to Tokyo isn't complete without checking out its whisky bars. I'm not interested in the chic and hip clubs of the moment or fancy cocktails. I just want my alcohol from grotty whisky bars or those with old world charm. Or perhaps, I'm not in a mood to dress up and would like to just sprawl at places that won't raise an eyebrow if we're in jeans.

I wasn't looking to try Japanese whisky per se. They often don't contain peat and aren't layered enough for my palate. I prefer the deep smoky notes or briny taste of the Scottish drams. So for the whisky bars I'm interested in, I'd like to make sure they also have a selection of non-Japanese malts. However, it is ironic as Suntory now owns Bowmore Distillery, Auchentoshan and Glen Garioch; Nikka has interests in Ben Nevis, and Takara Shuzo owns the majority share of Tomatin Distillery.

Not surprisingly, the friends went along with the focus on whisky bars. Quite enthusiastically, too. We picked three bars to hang out at in the city. There're Cask at Ropponggi Minato-ku, Quercus at Ikebukuro and Bar Track at Ebisu. Polished wood, ambient lighting, plenty of choices for whisky. AWESOME. I made a note of the Japanese words for my few favorite whisky just so that I can identify it the next time. Not too difficult when they split the menu into Highlands, Islay, Speyside, etc. I could hazard a guess, but need the friends to help me translate.

While one can't smoke anywhere and anyhow along the streets of Tokyo except at the designated smoking areas, the whisky bars still permit smoking within. Likewise, MOS Burger. If MOS Burger takes the whole building, there'll be one smoking floor that is entirely filled with putrid smells. It takes alot of guts to sit there. Which will then mean, the rest of the non-smoking floors stink of cigarette smoke too. So out of the whisky bars and back in the rooms, we had to spritz plenty of Febreze (or its Japanese equivalent provided by the hotel) to get rid of those stale cig smells.

Little Cute Things

I'm ambivalent towards pet shops. There're the good ones, and there'll be the bad. I can only hope that the little animals in the shop get sold off fast to loving, consistent and considerate owners so they won't feel too trapped in their surroundings.

We poked our heads into a pet shop because we saw the cutest puppies and kittens in the cages that lined the windows. I squealed so loudly that the bff took a couple of steps backwards before shushing me up amidst stares from passers-by. Hey, at least I'm going gaga over baby animals instead of Hello Kitty. Duhhhh.

The store people didn't mind us coming in to play with them. I was completely besotted with this (mackerel tabby?) kitten and the husky puppy. They're bright-eyed, alert and very playful. So fun! I probably fell in love with them too. *happy sigh* I really really really want a kitten of my own. :(

Porter

There is no way that we can leave Tokyo without a Porter bag in hand for each of us. It's PORTER! I'm interested in specific labels, and this is one of them. I've got a couple of tops and bottoms from Black. Brainless purchases that make up my basic wardrobe. Nothing exciting. I didn't see anything I really love.

We lunged into the Porter boutique at the Galleria at Roppongi Minato, or Tokyo Mid-town, and traumatized the sales people with our incessant questions. The boutique had such a wide range available! A friend even stated she wanted a diaper bag from there. It was very squishable, thankfully. Laptop bags, fabric bags and even leather bags. I like their sturdy no nonsense designs.

It took a bit of time to decide which two bags I wanted. Hehehhee. I could ask the friends to ship me bags anytime, or use a concierge service, but I'm right here. Now. It's pleasurable to touch and feel the bags, hold them against me and make a decision. Porter bags need to be carried with an attitude and the right clothes. I need to know I can carry them off without looking like a stupid tourist or wannabe! It's got a bit of a grungy thing going. The friends grabbed lots of purchases too. Fruitful. Pleased as punch, we dropped off the huge paper bags at the hotel and put our legs for a bit before heading out to a most yummy dinner.

Tonkatsu (トンカツ)

Then, there's tonkatsu. We were taken to Marugo at Akihabara. I looked at the menu and shuddered. Every line contained 'pork' in different cuts of hire, rosu, etc. I'm like, is there 'yasai-katsu' instead?! But I had forgotten to tell this bunch of friends about my dietary preferences and since the friends were being hospitable, it wasn't to be done to request to go somewhere else. In this way, the focus isn't exactly about the food, but more of the company, so I don't really care.

I understand this tonkatsu restaurant is immensely popular and there's always a queue to get in simply because it's a tiny tiny place. So pork lovers, you'll definitely like this eatery. The other friends who weren't doing the same thing as me, going 'oiishhiiiii!' at every other bite. Heh.

I palmed off as much meat as possible to the bff and other friends, and buried the rest under the rice. I really do not want to eat meat during this period. Luckily they had some fun side dishes to nibble on, along with beautiful steamed white rice, and most importantly, beer. Beer at lunch rocks. I can always eat something else again at tea. Like onigiri. Heheheheh.

But after these meals, I gently put my foot down at future tonkatsu, yakitori and yakiniku places. These eateries specialize in their respective cooking methods and use of ingredients and rarely offer anything else aside from the touted meats on the menu. It's not exactly friendly for a number of us non-meat eaters.

Ramen (ラーメン)

I would have liked ramen alot better if it doesn't come with the oily pork soup and chashu. The tastebuds don't appreciate it at all. But it's impossible to reject the friends' kind offer in hosting us to dinner, and again, it wasn't polite to say no to their suggestions. We went to a branch of Kouryu in the Komazawa area which serves up Hakata-style tonkotsu ramen.

I do like the broth in the ramen, not to drink it, but to submerge things that I don't want to eat within the murky depths. Kouryu allows customization to your bowl of ramen, including whether you want oil on top of the soup. I opted for ZERO oil. But it was still oily. It must be the fault of the pork bones. What I did, was to have a shitload of spring onions and garlic slices. By golly, it did come with a huge portion of both. Some of the friends didn't want that much spring onions in their regular portions, and scooped them over to me. Kekekkekeke. Wooots. A little bit of noodles and tons of spring onions made for a deliciously crunchy meal.

I liked how customers pay at the machines first and then sit down for their meals. You'll have to be able to read Japanese, or do alot of guessing at the photos and extra ingredients to be added to your chosen bowl. No frills, minimal fuss. It's fairly efficient and a meal will take no more than 15 minutes. Whether it's satisfying, depends on how much you like the pork broth. Quite perfect if the outing doesn't focus on the food per se. For most people, stepping into a ramen shop is simply to fill the stomach.

Mariage Frères In Shinjuku

Besides stocking up on all sorts of green tea from the exciting supermarkets in the city (and annoyed that I've to go ask for a refund for packs from Shizuoka), I'm thrilled that the friends took me to the lovely boutique of Mariage Frères in Shinjuku to buy obscene quantities of my favorite brand of European tea.

There're a few aromas from this label that I'd gladly pay for, but there're some which don't blow my mind. Many flavors from TWG or Fortnum & Mason will more than competently do the job. It's ultimately a matter of preferences. So yes, Mariage Frères can be a little overhyped, but you need to have tasted their blends to pick out the subtlety of the flavors that are unique to this label.

I love the aroma of the earl grey french blue. It's deep and intoxicating. I like dark smoky teas and Mariage Frères does them so well. I was first introduced to the tea by the Aunts as a child. I never understood why I couldn't buy it in Singapore and it's always been one of those products I madly stock up on each trip. It's only recently that I can find limited selections of Mariage Frères tea in Singapore at The Link Home and occasionally, in a paper pack at Ion's supermarket, ThreeSixty (it usually stocks Dammann Frères).

Nothing better than to spend the morning buying tea (and for some, sweet nibbles to go with), and heading to the friends' house in the afternoon to sip hot cups of tea and natter over seemingly heavy topics. But it brings cheer to our hearts to be able to talk about it, and disagree over certain issues while generally standing firm in the same direction. This is why we've been firm friends for such a long time in spite of our different life directions- this basic belief in fundamental marine diversity and its rights has kept our hearts together.

Hello Tokyo!!!

Nothing says "Welcome to Tokyo" like having a sight-seeing bus decked out in Hello Kitty prints zip by and watching the bff run after it. It was hilarious. She has a closet love for all things 'Hello Kitty', right down to certain crockery and bowls in her kitchen. She very nearly wanted to hop on that bus except that it moved off before she could do so.

Then we had to go take photos at those machines and print out instant sheets for everyone. For posterity! I haven't done that for a long time. The machines have improved so much, and the photo-editing technology is amazing. You could have stickers if you prefer. We wanted the pics to be done on photo paper, which would be more hardy.

This is such a last minute decision to make the trip. Whatever. Logistics, accommodation and air-tickets are so easily sorted out. The bff and I are very used to making snap decisions. Heh. She's extremely efficient, and so am I, when it comes to this sort of arrangements. We didn't give a hoot about the radiation and whatnots that the mothers nagged us about when we told them our destination. We've made an educated estimate on the inherent risks and whatnots. There really isn't very much to worry about. Not for the now, at least. On the way up, it was very pleasant to sit in a plane that wasn't crowded. The toilets didn't stink by the end of the flight.

I'm definitely loving the time spent with the bff. She routinely sprouts gems of wisdom that can be quite corny, and hilarious. There're plenty of friends to meet in Tokyo as well. So again, this trip isn't so much about the sight-seeing. We've been to Tokyo so many times. Okay, I haven't been to Japan for five years; it'd be nice to be re-acquainted with it slowly. But it's more of spending time with people who matter.