Saturday, February 28, 2015

又撈起、盆菜

This success of this supposed delicacy of pen cai (盆菜), literally 'Basin Vegetables' (or in Cantonese, 'poon choi') depends entirely on how each restaurant or family stews the broth. It's not similar to lo kai yik (卤雞翼), which is a Cantonese dish of chicken wings braised in fermented red bean curd sauce and loads of tau cheo (brown bean paste). Many versions also hold pork belly and pork skin. Nowadays, it's the simpler braised soy sauce chicken that's common.

Pen cai's base stock comes from stewing pork for hours. It's apparently eaten layer by layer. But often, we simply stir everything up so we could eat it all at the same time. Heheheh. Also, I especially like the daikon at the bottom. Fish maw, shark's fin, abalone and sea cucumber make up the bulk of the cost of this dish. But I would prefer to give all those a miss. Scallops and prawns would do fine.

I happen to like pen cai. Well, some of its ingredients, when I get over the pork broth or pork trotters. Some restaurants don't do it well and the meat stink is terrible. I understand the significance of this dish, although we aren't in the middle of a siege within a walled village in a protracted war. I welcome the idea of equality and communal dining of this dish. BUT PLEASE USE SERVING SPOONS AND CHOPSTICKS. Otherwise it's super EIOOWWWW.


Towards food I don't like, I go "Eeeee...I don't like this", "Yucks....I hate that". Well, I still do that, but quietly and inwardly. At many Asian meals, it's a 90% chance that you'll get more than four dishes at a table, which means, I can easily pick out items in a dish I want to eat. If I'm dining with elders at the table, I defer to their dining choices, although my stance on endangered species as food stands. You can eat it, please don't insist I do too. But I've stopped voicing aloud vehement objections. I also reserve all rights in accepting dinner invitations to meals that comprise largely of foods that I don't eat. With age, I've learnt something called respect versus loud assertions of dietary preferences. People have realized that I prefer to keep quiet than to comment, unless it's to rebut bigots and stupidity. Also, by now, many know my firm opinions on various matters and they've learnt not to ask me questions that they're not prepared to hear the answers to. Gatherings are so much more amiable after we very quickly reached this understanding.

This weekend (5 March, really, but whatever) marks the end of the traditional celebration of the first 15 days of Lunar New Year. Whewww. I can stop carrying that silly ang pow pouch around.

Friday, February 27, 2015

Punk Star from PurpleCloud


I'm not opposed to wearing cheongsams. Fine with whichever beautiful fabrics of silk, velvet, brocade, cotton or whatever. I just have a huge problem with their prints, colors and florals. Regardless of what every tailor says, I feel extremely uncomfortable and stupid wearing colors and giddy bright prints. It's just not me.

Also, I don't look good in the contemporary cheongsams with A-line flared bottoms. No no no. I'm really sorry, but not all figure-types are appropriate for that look. I happen to be one of those who'll look like a stunted dumpling in A-line or poofy skirts. And no cheongsams with dainty heels. It's already annoying enough to have the narrow dress restrict mobility. I refuse to totter about precariously for the sake of looking fashionable. I have worn cheongsams with flip flops. During lunar new year visiting, there's no point wearing anything else if all that is done is to remove shoes from home to home. And I certainly don't care about photo-taking. The fewer photos I am in, the better.

It's been years since I specifically buy clothes for the Lunar New Year. There isn't a need to. New clothes could be bought all year round. This is Punk Star from PurpleCloud's 'Collection 3 Punk Pao'. In denim with trims of gun metal studs and a brooch of chains. Pairs perfect with whichever pair of Doc Marts I'm currently fond of. This is about as festive as it gets in my wardrobe.

A New Bottle of Granola Bars


Y's husband A, must have been secretly honing his skills in the kitchen. We know he can cook, and bake stuff, like apple loaves and all that, but we thought the granola is Y's domain. Heheheheh.

Y said she's pretty much into doing the loose granola these days. She loves experimenting with the different low-sugar flavors. Her current favorite combination- coconut and lime. Her husband A used her recipe to do chia seeds, pistachios and figs, and filled the baking tray with whatever extra nuts and all he chooses, and set them into the bars. A churned out a batch of granola bars with Y's recipe, but he opted to bake it longer for that extra crunch. Apparently he didn't keep extras or baked another batch for himself. Heh. Y only given one bar to  sample!

The man and I were thrilled to receive a bottle of A's granola bars. Wow. We're already pampered to have Y occasionally plonk boxes and all into our hands. It's almost regular, considering that they don't bake to sell. But even A now decided to try it out this granola-baking-thing for a bit. No one else bakes us granola! It's muesli we regularly stock up from the supermarket, not granola. Most packs of granola are too sweet.

On their advice, I stashed the bars into the freezer because we couldn't have them immediately. A week later, they still tasted just fine. The man and I eat them straight out of the freezer. Either for breakfast or for lunch. We don't bother waiting for it to thaw out. At most it's just five minutes while we look for fruits, yoghurt or the already-soaked oats to go with. The bars thaw out really fast in the Singapore heat. We still have a few bars left. Hoarding them. The bottle looks so simple. But behind it is a tremendous amount of effort to pack the many ingredients tight, churn out a tray of granola bars, cut 'em straight, bottle them into a gift. It's beautiful. Very much appreciated. Thank you.

This plate is part of Supermama's new set titled 'The Merlion'.

Thursday, February 26, 2015

华艺節 :: 韶琴邦音乐会

I'm not a fan of the erhu (二胡). Its sound gives me goosebumps, regardless of which genre it's innovatively used in. I was keen to attend this concert because it involved this new version of an erhu in the shaoqin (韶琴). Since the friends didn't mind checking it out, we went to listen to Shaoqin Bang (韶琴邦), part of Esplanade's Huayi Festival.

In this concert, George Gao (高韶青) led Shaoqin Bang (韶琴邦), comprising musicians Wu Xudong (吴旭东), Zhu Yunqi (祝云琦), Ye Chunhong (叶春红) and Guo Mengyu (郭梦雨) on the low, mid and high parts of the shaoqin. This performance also included vocalist Jenny Zhang (张海京)George Gao (高韶青) introduced his invention of shaoqin (韶琴), and explained how it worked in comparison to the erhu, which raised my goosebumps even more because while it could go lower than the range of the erhu, it could also go one octave higher. The shaoqin's easier tuning pegs, timbre and tone makes it more versatile than the erhu.

I was wishing super hard that they wouldn't play any concertos from 'The Butterfly Lovers'梁山伯与祝英台》 of which I like neither its story, music or current connotation in which a Singapore Minister recently referred to it as a very strange analogy when explaining how the tender process screwed up for a site not meant for a commercial columbarium but was intended for a Chinese temple. Three weeks later, he followed up with another analogy that seemed to imply that losers or wrong-doers should commit suicide, which is really rude, insensitive and obtuse. "In Japan, the chairman and CEO would call a press conference, take a deep bow and, in the good old days, they may even commit hara-kiri." 

Anyway, the concerto wasn't played. But a refrain of 'The Butterfly Lovers' was played to exhibit how versatile the shaoqin is in the high and low parts of the concerto. I cringed. George Gao is totally at ease on stage and he's as good a composer as he is a talented musician. He also showed off the instrument's competence and his mastery of it by playing Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto in D major, which would not have been possible on a traditional erhu.

George Gao had played with the Singapore Chinese Orchestra in November 2012. Imho, contemporary pieces don't do justice to the shaoqin or erhu. There isn't enough depth for these pieces to showcase the range and soul of the instruments. While Michael Jackson's 'Bad' might lend a cool factor when played by the group, it frankly sounded terrible. An original George Gao composition titled 'Tiger Rock', derived from a Beijing opera (京劇《智取威虎山》之打虎上山) showed off the versatility of the electric shaoqin that was plugged in and kinda sounded like a guitar when piped through the iPhone app (probably an iRig or AmpliTube) and a modulator. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable the concert was, given that it was a tad flat in the sense that only one instrument was used.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Peking Duck Cravings Satiated

K's in town for a bit. Gotta fix a craving and get her Peking duck. No better than Imperial Treasure Super Peking Duck to satisfy her craving. I haven't had Peking duck for a long time, the last being K's home cooked version of Peking duck in Norway! Before this date, I hadn't stepped into the restaurant, but it should be pretty decent.

Now, I must have forgotten how Peking duck actually taste like. And I'm one of those who didn't go bonkers over Peking duck in Beijing or Shanghai. When I bit into this one, I was a tad disappointed. Sure, the skin was as good as could be, crisp and all, but the meat, I thought, while tender, was a tad bland. Nowadays, I'm definitely used to the duck being more flavorful than this. And K's duck, while unable to achieve the super-crisp skin that required a huge oven and fire, its meat was definitely tastier and equally tender. Still, I'd come back to this restaurant if anyone else has a craving to satisfy.

K ate her fill of wraps and skin, and meat. We were ambitious and ordered other dishes at the side. Vegetables and egg tarts. All eaten up. Muahahahah. Always good to chat with the woman IRL. Of course I was happy when I learnt she would be hopping into town. But it was only in the few days before she was due to fly off, that I began to miss her and started a silent tracking of her flight and transit all the way to Singapore. Like how I track parcels in the post. OCD much. Lol.

At Ristorante da Valentino

I've heard much about Ristorante da Valentino, but I've never visited till the girlfriend wanted to buy me dinner and that happened to be a convenient-enough venue. Yayyyy. Time with her and any excuse for pasta always make a good combination!

I love pasta. Not picky about the shape and form. I'm conservative with sauces though. I like aglio olio e peperoncino (less oil and more garlic and peppers please), carbonara (preferably without the bacon), pesto and pomodoro (or alla puttanesca). That's pretty much it. Heh. But I don't dare to eat so much carbs all the time. I've gone easier on the meals of pasta. Definitely can't be doing this for consecutive meals without balancing it with daily workouts.


The restaurant took a lovely wide space at The Grandstand. It'll be noisy because it's perpetually full with large tables of diners. I like the casual vibes. That's what I'm looking for most days- a dependable and easy but comfortable meal. Service was efficient and oddly effusive. Think I'm too used to surly servers at restaurants. What a nice change.

Love their bread basket with pesto. Absolutely delicious. I didn't want so much of it and in the end, we finished the entire basket. o.O The girlfriend puts in a ton of time at the dance studio and gym, and could afford a full plate of carbs. Hahahaha. Pasta it was for her too. My spaghetti alla puttanesca was done nicely al dente. Anchovies and capers. Mmmm. For some very strange reason, that night I was reminded of chai poh (diced preserved radish). Haven't had chwee kueh and salty chai poh for a while too! Super satisfying meal. We lingered late and nursed our one glass of wine. Nobody chased us out. Definitely returning for another meal. 

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

拜年祝安康


We didn't step into the friends' houses or visited their parents till the third day of the Lunar New Year. Put on our gaudy chirpy festive colors and went visiting with gifts and mandarin oranges. Eight homes this year! These are people whom we see regularly and love; these are homes that we want to be in, and not because we're obligated to do so.

The visits were a riot! The dogs and the cats were all excited too and determinedly hung around for possible snacks coming their way. Nope, dearies. No snacks for you. Same rule- don't feed the pets like how you don't feed the children without prior permission. This thing about visiting and eating. We've been plied with plenty of food, bird's nest soups, and fabulous snacks. Plenty of good coffee along the way. I didn't reject emping (belinjo crackers) or muruku, and by the time 4pm rolled around, I welcomed all alcohol. :P

Many lo-heis done today too. Even scrambled to grab an impromptu takeaway lo-hei platter. Luckily Fullerton Hotel kindly prepped it for us at super short notice; it was the nearest convenient pick-up location to where we were. Hurrah. I quite like yusheng (鱼生、捞起). It's raw fish and shredded vegetables. Literally a salad. Don't even mind the plum sauce. Having this as a festive dish means many hands make the tossing quick and we get to the food faster. Heh. It's mind-boggling but we received many ang pows today. STILL. Haizzz. These naughty parentals. Luckily we had prepped little gifts of appreciation.

Monday, February 23, 2015

'The Strain'


A few years ago, I wasn't too impressed when I rushed through Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan's trilogy 'The Strain'. It read like a story waiting to be adapted to big screen, which is really what's intended.

When the television series debuted last July, I wasn't particularly fixated on it. Was occupied finishing 'American Horror Story S4' and 'Penny Dreadful S1', and catching 'Constantine'. Finally got around to the 'The Strain S1'. The first three episodes started off well. I kinda lost interest mid-way but I persisted. Mixed feelings about it. (Reviews here, here, here and here.)

I would venture to suggest that the television adaptation seems to play out slightly better than the books. Just for fun, I flipped through the trilogy again, to remember what exactly it is that I'm not impressed with. Titled 'The Strain', 'The Fall' and 'The Night Eternal', the trilogy uses standard narrative techniques and devices. The story of a small team of humans against the greater evil. There's always a quest, a hunt and a mission of sorts. Many characters that annoyed me in the books definitely irritated the hell out of me on the screen, especially Dr Ephraim 'Eph' Goodweather and his son Zachary 'Zack'. Couldn't they have chosen better actors? Lead vampire hunter and Holocaust survivor and Abraham Setrakian was disappointingly uncharismatic.

I'll try not to give anything away since the television series will probably follow the books, given that Guillermo del Toro is involved in producing every episode. Book Two 'The Fall' repeats so much of what happened in Book One that I felt like time had been wasted reading 'The Strain'. On television, S1 has ended and S2 has begun production.

By now, the original strigoi- the first generation of vampires, the Regis Air victims and their Dear Ones - had begun their second wave of maturation. They were becoming more accustomed to their environment and new bodies. Learning to adapt, to survive - to thrive. They attacked at nightfall, the news reported "rioting" in large sectors of the city, and this was partially true- looting and vandalism ran rampant in broad daylight - but no one pointed out that activity spiked at night.   
Because of these disruptions occurring nationwide, the country's infrastructure was beginning to crumble. Food delivery lines were broken, distribution delayed. As absences increased, available manpower suffered and electrical outages and brownouts went unserviced. Police and fire response times were down, and incidences of vigilantism and arson up.

Let's just say I don't like the ending. It's weak and unimaginative. This vampire apocalypse doesn't appeal. It's not even as riveting as the storyline of 'Underworld'. I won't be watching 'The Strain S2'. Trying not to do spoilers here, and extracting only these few lines from Book Three 'The Night Eternal', foretelling what happens in the future, what could only happen when humans are not as strong or as united.

The Master's plan was a resounding success. In brutally Darwinian fashion, the Master had selected the survivors for compliance and malleability. Its growing strength was nothing short of terrifying. With the Ancients destroyed, its control over the horde - and through them, the world- had broadened and become ever more sophisticated. The strigoi no longer roamed the streets like raving zombies, raiding and feeding at will. 
Their movements were coordinated. Like bees in a hive or ants in a hill, they apparently each had clearly defined roles and responsibilities. They were the Master's eyes on the street. 
In the beginning daylight was entirely gone. A few seconds of faint sunlight could be glimpsed when the sun was at its zenith, but other than that, the darkness was unremitting. Now, two years later, the sun filtered through the poisoned atmosphere for only two hours each day, but the pale light it gave was nothing like the sunlight that had once warmed Earth. 
The strigoi were everywhere, like spiders or ants, making sure that those left alive were truly fitting back into a routine...

Sunday, February 22, 2015

农历年初四 :: 华艺节 'What Is Sex ? 红楼梦'


Attended Edward Lam Dance Theatre's epic 'What Is Sex? 红楼梦', kicking off the first of the shows the friends and I are catching at this year's Huayi Festival (华艺节) presented by Esplanade. Didn't watch Edward Lam Yik-wah's (林奕華) earlier presentations of the other three great Chinese classics at Huayi in the previous years.

3.5 hours which included a 20-minute intermission, saw a prologue and 17 scenes that followed the chapters of Cao Xueqin's eighteenth century classic novel 'Dream of the Red Chamber'. (曹雪芹《红楼梦》) That's where the similarities end. Thank goodness. It's not a bad book in terms of looking at it as a social commentary, the rise and the fall of aristocratic clans, eighteenth century social norms, etc. But I've no love lost for this classic when I had to study it for the examinations. I abhor this genre of fiction and by the end of the year, I nurtured a distinct aversion to flowers, manicured gardens and pavilions, and truly wanted to stab Lin Daiyu (林黛玉) and Jia Baoyu (贾宝玉) and everyone in the two family estates of Rongguofu (荣国府) and Ningguofu (宁国府).

In this musical where the setting is a rather peculiar sort of book club, 12 "highly desirable men" are engaged by well-heeled female clients to read this classic to them. The men were actors, storytellers and narrators, taking on the female roles with a fair amount of ease, simply because the roles turned into thoughts and words, not so much of action. Couldn't stifle my giggles. This notion of 'cute guys' and all, is extremely subjective. LOL. Edward Lam used a predominantly female cast for male characters in his interpretation of 'The Romance of the Three Kingdoms' (三国演义). I'm not going to read anything into the gender-flipping thing. It's nothing to do with sexism or subversive gender themes. In the thick English-and-Chinese program booklet, Alexander Hsu wrote a short note on 'Hatred. Remorse. Regret. Revelation. - The Rationale Behind A Male Cast For What Is Sex?'. He made two observations, "It is not gender that determines language, but language that determines gender" and "the subtext in language is not gender, but what we associate with gender".

The blurb suggested, "In each of us, there exists a void—a deep, bottomless emptiness. And we are all trying to fill this void." This contemporary interpretation of the novel is supposed to inspire audiences to look within and find some meaning in the angst of everyday living or in the hypocrisy of the world. “每个人都要补自己的洞。” 所谓《红楼梦》的虚实相生与真假变化,人生挣扎与蹉跎,无论什么年代,还是那么熟悉。This play certainly doesn't provoke such deep thoughts in me. I wasn't entertained by the singing and dancing. You know how I feel about musicals and the ilk. I watched this for the sole purpose of seeing Edward Lam's vision and stage direction. The theme song 《似曾》 sung by William Wei (韋禮安) is catchy enough for me to want to tinkle it out on the piano later and memorize those lyrics pronto. This song pretty much summarized the uhh musical. Heh.

似曾相惜,未曾相遇,似曾相知,未曾相識 
未曾真箇,似曾銷魂,未曾意會,似曾動心

Saturday, February 21, 2015

农历年初三 :: 羊年到來如意繞,歡聲笑語風中飄


The parade of nyonya food started since the month began, and won't stop till 1 March. Fantastic! We've eaten many giant meals. This month's motto is, 'Eat until my stomach burst'. These are foods I can't resist. They're plentiful only during the festive season. It's so so precious. The restaurants will never do it as well as these home kitchens.

The older generation cooks so much better than we can. I certainly hope my friends have acquired these skills so that I can shamelessly turn up at their dining table. :P Along with the friends, we visited E's parents that last weekend. We pounced on E's invitation to makan. Her mother's cooking is legendary. She fed us two rounds of nyonya mee siam, using her signature thick vermicelli instead of the thin version. The rempah is fantastic lah. It translates into awesome gravy. We like thick gravy. There were also meats of roast chicken and roast pork. Of course achar was on the table. All good meals are accompanied by sambal belachan and achar.

Then buah keluak appeared. Mmmmm. Don't care about the ayam or babi. Just gimme the buah keluak. Black gold. Nomnomnomnom. I've been too lazy to bother learning to make this dish. All of us went for the buah keluak and gravy, and ignored the chicken. As if the food wasn't enough, the mother also brought out loads of keropok, cakes and chocolates. Realized we had to get away from the dining table lest she took our continued presence as a sign that we were still hungry. Muahahahaha.

Friday, February 20, 2015

农历年初二 :: 烟花炮竹流光溢,吉祥羊年来报道


Checked in with Yoke Bakery and was so glad that Alberta could fill out the order for the Lunar New Year. I'm not particularly interested in the usual festive goodies or snacks of any sort. Figured most people would either bake their own tarts and kuehs or be flooded with a ton of similar high-in-demand-sort of festive bakes. Got a few sets of easy shortbreads instead. Lighter on the tastebuds too.

Was thrilled with the jars of osmanthus, chocolate, matcha, black sesame and cookies of oatmeal berry walnut. Requested for six additional giant cookies to be made for six little ones. All looked tiny and easy-to-nibble. Woot. Sent them off immediately to the friends and their parents. These gifts are specifically for those naughty parentals who refuse to listen and still prep ang pows for us. Considering everyone's travel schedules, this year they went one up- by giving us ang pows before Lunar New Year even arrived. Dohhh. And especially for those who're always lovely to us all year round, it's just one of the many ways we say 'thank you'.

Kept a tub of black sesame shortbread for the man and oatmeal berry walnut cookies for myself. The man loves anything made with kuro neri goma, and I'm quite fond of oatmeal-anything. Alberta managed those sugar portions perfectly. Tasted great. The black sesame shortbread is impressive. They went into the fridge so that they could keep longer. I really like her bakes.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

农历年初一 :: 銀羊咩咩喜來報,高歌聲聲新年好


Of course I ignored pancakes on Shrove Tuesday. No love for pancakes or waffles. Not even the savory sort. But I did eat A LOT, and had beer over a very fun trivia night at the pub.

Lent has begun. What am I giving up this year? One can never run out of things to give up. It could be a slippery slope though. I have to be mindful that it isn't about giving up stuff for the sake of giving up, but to honor and recognize the Lord in the Lenten sacrifice and the daily bread that He provides. Ash Wednesday's reading looked at setting the Lenten goal.

Yet even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart... ~ Joel 2:12

I could go vegan two days a week instead of one. As it is, along with age and health concerns, I've streamlined the diet to its current composition which works well. Will continue to focus less on material acquisitions that aren't a need, but not missing out on gaining the experiences which are the precious bits. That'll be difficult to balance. I've done so much and wouldn't trade those experiences for anything in the world. Time permitting, I'd love to be on the trails of Mount Rainier. I think the word ought to be prudence, not austerity.

What I really want to do this Lent, is to adopt a habit and have it stick all year. I'd like to be more disciplined in the daily devotionals, instead of glancing at it once a week. Today's looked at 'Separating Out the Chaff'. Choked on my cup of bitter yet fragrant black coffee. Chaff. How timely. There I was being grouchy about this festive season, be it Spring Festival, Chinese New Year or Tet. Same same Lunar New Year. At least people have learnt that I bite and won't engage me in conversation beyond the cursory pleasantries. I love being described as "not friendly". It helps to put me in a better disposition; it means only friends would talk to me. Not these useless peripheral humans whom I'm not even interested in being their acquaintances. And all that drama yesterday with rude woman at the hawker centre and being hit by a kumquat. Okay, impie, let it go.

Not so the wicked, not so; they are like chaff which the wind drives away.  ~Psalm 1:4

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Grillet Reinsdyrstek


Last September, I wasn't sure if I should buy a chunk of reindeer meat home simply because the man hadn't tried grilling it. Dunno how it would turn out in Singapore. 1.2 kg is a lot of meat. But I bought it anyway. Maschmanns Matmarked does such wonderful produce that once the meat was deep frozen, carting it home was easy. Finding an occasion to eat it was tougher. There's no way the man and I could conquer this, even if we use leftovers for a steak sandwich or salad. Finally, after six months, we thawed it out for an impromptu dinner with the friends, whom we warned of the menu. In case they aren't used to venison.

The man was excited to try his hand at cooking reindeer meat. 1.2 kg of it. It's low in fat and high in protein, and shouldn't be cooked like beef. It has to turn out tasty and tender. Found a recipe online that called for it to be stuffed with mushrooms. He used porcini and brown buttons. Then he seared the meat in a pan before shoving it into the oven for 25 minutes. We were nervous about it. Had a little debate about whether to follow the roasting time in the recipe. In the end, we didn't. We extended its stay in the oven by about 10 minutes.

The final skewer test indicated promising results which were only concrete upon slicing it up. Oh beautiful colors. Yes! The knife slid through the chunk easily. It was tender and surprisingly flavorful. The man was delighted. My meat quota of the year is tiny and it's totally worth apportioning some to this evening's meal. Lean meat is awesome. Good for me because I hate wagyu-anything and dislike striploin. I think the friends really enjoyed the reinsdyrstek too.

The problem was the sauce for the meat. Reinsdyrstek er spist med tyttebærsaus. We don't have tyttebærsaus. I really really like tyttebærsaus, especially made from berries I could pick from the woods. Not going to happen here. I don't want it ready-made in a jar from Ikea. The man suggested other sauces. I rejected all, even yoghurt-lime-chilli dip. Can lah, local interpretation. But since this was the first time the friends had it, I insisted on having something similar to tyttebærsaus, and making it from ground up. So we bought cranberry juice and raspberries. Boiled up celery and onions and beef stock, then stirred in the cranberry juice and raspberries. Hurrah! Way better than anything out of a jar. This sauce worked great with the meat, cutting across the rich flavors.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Poutine!


Besides mac 'n' cheese and mashed potatoes, I'm also crazy over poutine. Cheese curds. OMG. One cannot anyhowly replace cheese curds with mozzarella. The melt isn't the same. That saltiness won't be right. The worst one could do is to use cheddar or Kraft. Eeeks. It can only be cheese curds.

The darling friends received a shipment of cheese curds and immediately called for a Poutine Night. Yes yes yes! These cheese curds are precious. They don't keep and must be eaten asap. Heh. Any reason to indulge in a ridiculous amount of this kind of saturated fats. Aiiight.

When we got to the friends' house, the deep-fryer was happily humming, and the first batch of twice-fried chips were ready. Thick chunks of potato. My stomach growled. Potato and cheese. LOVE. How the fries are done is also important. I guess everyone likes their fries in different ways. I like it slightly thick than shoestring, and with a bit of skin. The friends did it in this exact way. Gorgeousness. The gravy isn't difficult to boil up; it's loads of stirring though, and balancing the texture. Yummy beef stock ought to be used. Cheese curds are salty, so the gravy should be rich and hearty, but not salty. There was dessert of apple crumble and dark chocolate tart. Ahhh. L halved the sugar the recipe demanded, and made the apple crumble tangy and all juicy inside. Delicious.

Also grilled up flank steaks to go along with the meal and bits of tangy tomato-vodka penne pasta. A very filling dinner. The friends' version of poutine is SO GOOD. I had seconds and thirds. It's definitely one of the best I've had. Bacon bits are optional, but they do add dimension to the flavors of cheese and potato. Vegetarian poutine is just as delicious. YUM YUM. Comfort food. Thank you so much for feeding us!

Monday, February 16, 2015

Shakespeare and Star Wars


Now that it's a proper trilogy all done, I couldn't resist getting the hardcopies in hard cover of Ian Doescher's 'William Shakespeare's: Star Wars', 'William Shakespeare's: The Empire Striketh Back', and 'William Shakespeare's: The Jedi Doth Return'. (Reviews here, here and here.)

I didn't buy the first book. Borrowed it. Now that the final and third book is out, I decided to grab the box set. Heheheh. It's odd isn't it? I avoid Shakespeare, and am a lukewarm fan of Star Wars. Put them together, and somehow Shakespeare's iambic pentameters work hilariously in Star-Wars-speak. In Shakespearean style, ensuring many captive audiences. There're plenty of Easter eggs in there, to Pride and Prejudice, Star Trek, Moby Dick, etc. It's so clever. Ian Doescher is brilliant.

Yoda's haikus threw me into fits of laughter in the first two books. Love them illustrations and the scenes. It takes more than good writing to make this trilogy a must-keep on the bookshelves. In this third and final 'William Shakespeare's: The Jedi Doth Return', I'm tickled silly by gangsta rap.

A gangster, aye, a gangster, O!
‘Tis well to be a gangster.
A blaster ever by thy side,
A stately barge in which to ride,
A fair, young damsel to thee tied,
‘Tis well to be a gangster.
A gangster, aye, a gangster, O!
Full many servants lend thee aid,
More guards than a Naboo brigade,
And bounty hunters on the parade—
‘Tis well to be a gangster.
A gangster, aye, a gangster, O!
‘Tis well to be a gangster.
The drinks all flowing fast and free,
A sarlacc pit not far from thee,
A rancor for thine enemy,
‘Tis well to be a gangster.
A gangster, aye, a gangster, O!
‘Tis well to be a gangster. 
~ Act I Scene 2, The Max Rebo Band sings a tribute to Jabba of the Hutt. An illustration pictured below.

Sunday, February 15, 2015

The Last Battle 1942 :: Adam Park

Jon Cooper,
Battlefield Archeologist.
Very British.

Wars of the future aren't going to be like those in the 19th century. Oh yes, I've no doubt that World War III is in sight, at this rate conflicts are exploding all over the world and tempers are getting shorter and shorter. Or another Cold War since it did last for 35 years and still shows some signs or revival. It's going to be tough figuring out where the last stand for Singapore would be. If and when that should happen, I hope to be dead already.

Another tour we signed up for with the National Heritage Board (NHB) in commemoration of the '73rd Anniversary of the Battle for Singapore and the 70th Anniversary of the Liberation of Singapore', was 'Adam Park Project'. Besides the battles at Pasir Panjang ridge defended by the British 2nd Loyal Regiment and the 44th Indian Brigade, and the brave tiny platoon of 42 men of the Malay Regiment led by Second Lieutenant Adnan bin Saidi at Bukit Chandu, Adam Park also saw fierce fighting (between the 1st Battalion Cambridgeshire Regiment and Japanese 41st Fukuyama Regiment) where the last lines held for three days until the British surrendered on 15 February 1942, and it was also used as a POW camp.

NHB did a great job again with an ambulance on standby, and bottled water for the participants. And an official photographer. Dohhhh. Our guide was the awesome Jon Cooper who's the current Project Manager, Researcher and Battlefield Archaeologist at the Changi Museum. He leads the Adam Park Project (TAPP), which has been eatablished since 2009, and of which I barely paid attention to. Intense study of history kinda belonged to those academic years in school. *hungs head in shame* There's no space for thinking about historical events now, save for linking it to certain research papers I pore over at work. Even so, that's compartmentalized. (More information about Adam Park as a WWII site here, here, here and here.)


There're 19 colonial black and white bungalows in Adam Park built in the late 1920s, two of which were rebuilt in peacetime after sustaining mortar damage. Today, they look pristine and serene, shrouded in beautiful greenery. The houses are now home to private residents, except for No. 7, the 1942 Battalion Headquarters. It has been licensed for commercial purposes. There're many stories about its past residents which are not difficult to find. Jon Cooper took us through No.16's previous occupants, who didn't seem to have survived WWII, from the Consul-General of the Netherlands H. M. J Fein, to the German-Jewish family of Gerhard Seefeld whose wife Doris Kathleen bore him three children and in December 1934, passed away at the young age of 23 and was buried in Bidadari Cemetery.

200-250 Allied POWs had lived in each of the houses. They numbered about 1000 British and 2000 Australians. Predictably, many also succumbed to their injuries in Adam Park. They said these were the kinder deaths. The other 13,000 Allied POWs died painfully on the torturous Death Railway in Kanchanaburi and Thanbyuzayat. Australian artist Robert Mitchell's (1919 - 2002) sketches of Adam Park during his time as a POW have helped the archeologists and researchers to establish a layout of the estate as a then-POW camp.

Guess the house number.

No. 7 used to house the NUSS Guildhouse. The friends and I used to go hang out till we decided this alumni stuff isn't our thing. Then it became two unmemorable restaurants. Now the building stands empty, and it would honestly, be perfect as a museum for the area. But this is Singapore with all its scarcity of land, crazy property prices and unfeeling stance towards heritage and conservation. The best way No. 7 could accommodate its heritage would be to remain a commercial space of sorts, and dedicate plaques or a room and wall space, erect little memorials to pay homage.

Jon Cooper is an excellent historian and guide. The years spent on this project brought him a deeper knowledge that gave life to the stories behind the names etched on the war memorials. We were certainly fascinated. Adam Park has maintained most of its old world charms. The archeological finds are precious and in time to come, ought to be viewed with equal importance alongside urban development. There's a mystery still awaiting to be discovered. A chapel built by the POWs and mural, are rumored to be in a room upstairs in one of these 19 houses. But which one, is anyone's guess. TAPP has almost determined it to be the now-No. 11, except for the one final proof of colored paint on the walls underneath all the new coats. I wonder if the ghosts would care.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

Many Presents


I took the bouquet of gorgeous wildflowers, gave Y a big hug, and grimaced. "Please don't tell me you spent extra on these flowers because the florists jacked up prices this week!" Y assured me she didn't. It was a bouquet from her regular florist who didn't charge her extra for this bunch. Whewwww. I'm not the biggest fan of flowers like say, tulips, roses, lilies, daisies, sunflowers or whatever, and will most certainly not bother about buying them this week, of all weeks in the year. I like wildflowers fine, but it's not quite possible to randomly pick them in the woods in Singapore. Love rustic bouquets. Y had a beautiful cotton-lace ribbon tied round the stalks to form the bouquet.

Of course we got to dessert. The girls had space for two cakes! One as requested by Lil'Missy, and another that was a pleasant surprise sent over courtesy of Y's friends who were coincidentally at the restaurant too. This date included Lil'Missy who zoomed to town straight from school. She excitedly showed me what she learnt in January's classes. Then, as little girls do, they get bored of sitting down. So we went running round and round the rather empty mall. It was a casual day in the office, so I had on flats with rubber soles. Fine for zipping around with a little one, and keeping five steps behind so she kinda won every round. Hahaha.

It was just in time to wish Y for her birthday too. :) She said "No presents please." I conveniently ignored that and prepped a small token cute and practical. She had a fantastic retort. She and the husband conspired and baked a big jar of granola bars for the man and I. There were the wildflowers she picked out and put together; she also bought me a gorgeous filet from Filt. I had one till it broke apart from years of usage. This new filet is perfect for my everyday. xxxooo The color palette of the bouquet and net was simply pleasing. Found a complementary wall. Had to ask Y to help me take a photo. Heeeeee. Happiness, much.

Friday, February 13, 2015

'Imprint: New Works by Suzann Victor'


Sydney-based Singaporean artist Suzann Victor's conceptual mixed media installations and performance works shouldn't be unfamiliar to us. She's been churning out exciting works for two decades which are seen regularly around the world. Went to Singapore Tyler Print Institute (STPI) to view her new solo show.

Suzann Victor's works aren't focused on the art of printmaking and paper, which makes her solo show even more anticipated. These new prints were created during a six-week residency at STPI last year. In her challenge and interpretation of the traditional printmaking processes, she created over 60 pieces. (More about the artist's creative process and inspiration on MUSE.)

'Imprint: New Works by Suzann Victor' was so enchanting that I returned twice. Had a quick look the first visit, and the second, to linger over a few favored pieces and ponder. She organized them some individual pieces and into three Series- 'I Was Like That Myself ... We All Held Each Others Hands', 'Décollage' and 'Cloud'. In case you're wondering, many of those artworks have been sold. The shows runs till 21 February. Go!

This piece greets you at the entrance. Titled 'We Cloud'

Enjoyed all the pieces, but my favorites are from the 'Cloud Series'. Of wet paper pulp suspended in a formula of fluid acrylic medium. The artist employed "paper pulp as paint for mark-making instead, thus shedding its customary role as mere imprintable surface for pigment, or as in printmaking tradition, the surface on which images on the 'plate' are transferred." She explained,

Light is a really important element here because by allowing light to come through, the beautiful subtlety and delicacy of the paper pulp can be seen. Transparency is really beautiful. It's very honest. Water is obviously transparent but the irony is that with paper pulps, it's a process of dehydration. It actually pulls, drains and dries. It's about drying and recording the journey of water, its marks and shapes... It is marked by the form of the pulp that is left behind.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Quick Hugs and Laughter


I was between work appointments and on my way across town when the girlfriends texted about grabbing coffee. Oh yes! I was also planning to stop somewhere for coffee. It was awesome that all our schedules matched for a quick one. What a bright spark in the week.

Loved it that C's little girls could come along too. Hadn't seen the little ones for a while. Okay, I'm super fond of the older girl. Heh. I totally miss chatting with her, what with this quarter's work schedule and all that. The younger one is super sweet and cute, but it's just a time-thing. I've spent a lot more time with the older girl; naturally I've come to adore her just a teeny-weeny bit more. She would still merrily place her hand trustingly in mine and drag me off to run around. What a sweetheart.

The little ones put away two pain au chocolat. We adults marveled at their stomach space. Everyone got their dose of caffeine. Lots of chatter. Played hilarious games. We split within the hour. What a random fun catch-up. It's not as though we don't see one another often. We try and we do see one another regularly. But we love impromptu meetings. This one made my day.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Of Those Who Have Passed :: Bukit Brown Cemetery

The tomb of Chew Geok Leong (周玉龍), right by the jogging trail.
He was a Qing official from Anxi province; Chinese physician in Singapore who died in 1940.
His tomb is the only one that has Sikh guards in full color.

2015 is the '73rd Anniversary of the Battle for Singapore and the 70th Anniversary of the Liberation of Singapore'. National Heritage Board (NHB) organized like...52 guided tours to nine World War II (WWII)  structures and sites. We signed up for the two-hour 'In Remembrance of WWII At Bukit Brown Cemetery'. It was also a battlefield in February 1942 where fallen soldiers and civilians were laid to rest, where bodies were also dumped into unmarked mass graves. Exhumation has begun; cranes, piling machinery and hoarding have gone up because plans are in place to build an eight-lane expressway through the beautiful cemetery. It would be such a pity. It carries remnants of a Singapore we don't know and could only see glimpses as we stroll through the shaded trails.

In typical government efficiency, NHB had an ambulance on standby. Love that. Our super enthusiastic guides were from All Things Bukit Brown, a community of history buffs who call themselves 'Brownies'. This tour, passionate and knowledgeable Catherine, Peter and Tee picked out individual graves and told us tales of their bravery and selfless sacrifices for their families, friends and communities during WWII.

This is mainly a civilian Chinese cemetery of mostly early immigrants from Chinese provinces of Fujian and Chaozhou. There're the controversial issues of whether leading figures in the community were 'collaborators'. A euphemism. Many quarters called them 'traitors' and accused them of collusion, then shunned them. But really, what else could they do? Dying isn't that welcomed, no matter in which era. They weren't just coerced to cough up the 'voluntary donation' of $50 million to the Japanese Military Administration in April 1942. Most were forced to collaborate and collude. Ultimately, many gave their lives.


This two-hour WWII trail stopped by graves of 1) Lim Chong Pang (second son of Lim Nee Soon); the oddly separated tombs of 2) Sun Si Ting (owner of Tai Thean Khew Circus), and his rumored partner 3) Cheng Kao Shin (whose son from a previous marriage was buried with her)4) Wong Chin Yoke (a police Inspector, a recipient of the Coronation Medal, and was part of the underground resistance movement in Indonesia); and 5) Tan Ean Teck (brother of Tan Ean Kiam; his death was recounted in Dr Yap Pheng Geck's autobiography titled 'Scholar, Banker, Gentleman Soldier').

The 1937 massacre of Nanjing and the Kempeitai's three-week Sook Ching purge in 1945 Singapore are definitely an indelible and painful part of history which still touch sore nerves now. All my life, I've wrestled with WWII, the tyrannical oppressors, and my inner demons. I won't elaborate, but the stories of the past are still painful when retold in the present.

We've walked the trails of Bukit Brown Cemetery many times, picking out different graves to understand a little bit more about the families of the occupants and the turbulent times lived through. Read the research materials, but nothing beats hearing a guide with passion talk about the people who have long passed on. Through the guides' voices, the memories of the dead live on. As much as I'm not one for nostalgia, there's something serene yet melancholic about this heritage trail. We spotted an endangered thick-billed green pigeon in the trees. As we were leaving, a beautiful crested goshawk shrieked its greeting from its perch in the trees. Then it deigned to rise and soar to bid us farewell at Bukit Brown Cemetery. It was a good way to spend a birthday.

I watched the friends watch the birds.

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

The Refinery

There's no way to find a common new restaurant to try out. Someone would have already eaten at whichever chosen restaurant. We simply go with the majority who hasn't stepped in, and in this case, it's The Refinery. (Yah I know, every hip city seems to have an eatery of the same name.) It wasn't too out of the way to get to. As expected, well laid out interiors and lighting. The high ceiling lent it really good vibes. Although the music could be...ah never mind.

The whole point of having a whole bunch of us in a restaurant, isn't to terrorize the crew. It's to check out its kitchen's capabilities and to allow us to sample many dishes without feeling like gluttons and lapsing into a food coma. It was almost funny how it was so obvious that it was the first day of work for some of the service crew. The rest were clearly more experienced. It makes business sense for the menu pricing to factor in the costs even though The Refinery doesn't levy service charge, yet. However, it's reasonable for guests to tip. It's not the culture here, but hey, why not. At least it's not a compulsory 22% of the total bill. Don't be stingy. Leave something as a gesture of appreciation to spur the staff to do better or stay consistent. We were quite well taken care of that evening.


OMG. Grilled chicken hearts. The table wanted it but they were out of chicken hearts that evening. Heh. Ordered loads of skewers- meats, eggplant and mushrooms. Food was very decent. While nothing blew my mind, it was nicely cooked. No complaints. I would come back for a meal. The table loved those noodles. A few different choices- Tonkotsu Ramen without the crazy oil and stink, Mee Pok and Spicy Mee. The onsen eggs were beautifully done. I loved those noodles and put away a whole bowl on my own. Very QQ. The dessert of Ice Cream Kong Ba Bau was most interesting. We took coconut ice-cream. There was some sort of hazelnut crunch and gula melaka.

Most of us didn't seem to be in a drinking mood. So no whisky or sake. Two beer towers settled the alcoholic impulses. All the better. Less alcohol in the liver. Alcohol isn't required at every gathering to get the party going. The humans make the party. At some points, I stood aside and looked at the table through the camera lens. The hum of the various conversations, the laughter that went around. This bunch. My friends. To have and to hold. Many memories made.

Live, every moment. Laugh, every day. Love, beyond words. We always do. We stand with and remind one another to keep at it through the dark days. 

Monday, February 09, 2015

37. I Feel Complete.


The one thing I've always sought and still crave, is solitude, and I always find it. It's solitude in its various forms on a daily basis- running errands in the city on my own, visiting spaces alone, ensuring I get to have meals or at least a coffee alone, and much-needed solo vacations, et cetera.

With each passing year on this day of birth, I ask if my conscience is clear, how many inner demons still lurk, and how much baggage I still carry. Theoretically, all these ought to get a little lighter with the shifting sands of time as I learn the consequences of decision-making. Mine is definitely not a road less traveled. It's rather commonplace, almost normal. It's simply a few little decisions that set me apart from the main street and instead, take me on a parallel little lane that skirts around.

God, life and destiny have provided all that I could ever want. The tangible and the intangible. Heart's desires. Friends, blessings, health, an education, privileges and love in all forms. Perhaps two or three regrets; nothing in particular that gnaws at the soul. I find meaning in life, in its various aspects. I've never felt lost, or feel that I lack anything. I'm well aware all these are granted so that I may serve the larger community. My life is complete as it is, as it has been, as it shall hopefully be. May His grace and light guide and prevail. 37. Hey.

Sunday, February 08, 2015

Violet Oon's Kitchen

Buah keluak pasta. LOVE.
Wish it could be less oily.

So lovely of A to randomly text at the last minute to say that she wanted to take me out to dinner. I happened to have cancelled dinner plans. Hehehehe. That would have been a corporate meal. Eeeks. It would be much preferable to sit down with a girlfriend any day.

A doesn't mind Violet Oon's Kitchen; I don't mind it either. It's a convenient makan venue for us. Opinions over the food at this restaurant are divided, even among friends. I've eaten my way through their menu, catered for two or three small gatherings, and frankly, I'm all right with what the kitchen churns out.

It's by no means traditional Peranakan cuisine. The menu's got all the requisite dishes, including the wing bean salad, but they've all been give a make-over. Nothing strange though. I'm not a fan of all traditional Peranakan restaurants, not when they're heavy-handed on the oil and stingy on the rempeh, and usually leans towards a menu heavy on pork or chicken. I don't mind Peramakan at Keppel Club or Dulukala or Guan Hoe Soon. One will always compare the traditional restaurants to what one can get from the home kitchen, so it'll never be to the preferred flavors. I like the tweaked flavors and spices at Candlenut Kitchen and this one.

Violet Oon Kitchen's sambal variations remain spicy. Their ngo hiang holds less stinky meat than the usual probably because of the addition of crab meat; their kueh pie tees are nicely filled, and the tauhu goreng has been broken down and presented beautifully with the balanced gravy that isn't too sweet or too salty. I love their buah keluak pasta. Their meatless meatballs are fun and really tasty. What I've never managed to eat is their weekend special tau kwa pau. A stuffed beancurd thingy. It's always unavailable. Ugh.

Saturday, February 07, 2015

Dark Chocolate Shortbread

Told the friends to dispense with birthday gifts. My friends are very determined and ingenious. Some have firmly adhered to what many of us practise- donating to any chosen charity in lieu of gifts during special occasions. Some will bake or make something that I'll appreciate, or even bravely attempt to buy an item from an independent maker/label that they know I might welcome.

J and L allocated time, put their mixer to work and produced two packs of dark chocolate shortbread for us. They handed them over to us at dinner, and we refused to open it up to share with the table. Muahahaha. We're still not sorry that we squirreled these away. Technically, all these desserts are mine. But the man is thrilled that he gets to indulge his (very) sweet tooth too.

J and L lowered the sugar content, then cut out easy-to-eat squares. They know I don't bother much with desserts, ice-cream or sugar. To convince me to eat beyond one square of shortbread, it couldn't hold caramel, where most of the sugar could be tasted immediately. One pack with caramel drizzled over and the other pack simply held a sprinkling of sea salt. Brilliant people. Much love, guys.

Friday, February 06, 2015

'Ink (黑墨)'


Was checking out Batch.sg when I spotted a black bowl made by Lee Huiwen of Studio Asobi. The 5x17cm bowl 'Ink (黑墨)' is described as "dark, broody and enigmatic". That's precisely why I fell in love with it. The color spectrum I lean towards to applies to many items in my life, including crockery.

Bought it without even touching it, which is rather odd when it comes to me buying crockery, cups and all. Texture is everything- it decides how much I like an item and if I want it. The rim of this bowl holds drop detailing that made me stare at it. Not in the way of a fascinating night sky, but more in the fantasy-realm of a portal to another dimension, or the wizardry magic of entering another realm.

Dunno if these bowls can take the heat in the microwave or the steamer. Technically they can. But I'm not going to even test it out. Those plain Corelle and Pyrex crockery are better suited to do so. The prettier or handthrown bowls and plates are used for our eating pleasure at the dining table. The first use of the bowl was to fill it with big luscious fresh sweet cherries (this in-season batch is from New Zealand) and eat them up. Love the bowl.

Wednesday, February 04, 2015

Sambal Okra

I did say I would attempt to utilize the kitchen a bit more this year. However, trying out new recipes doesn't excite me, unless I want to eat them. You know how much the idea of cooking thrills me. *utmost sarcasm* I keep a vegetarian kitchen, preferring not to handle raw meat or seafood. I glance at a few recipes and that's about it. The steps aren't exactly followed. I cook according to memories, instincts and tastebuds, and what I ultimately want to taste on the plate.

The girlfriend passed me a bunch of okra from her garden. She texted a reminder, "Freshly harvested. Eat now!" Okaaay. I rarely order okra at the eateries because they always screw it up. It's usually overcooked and slimy. I hate that. With this batch of beautiful okra, I ought to do it justice. Pounded up some sambal. Both grandmothers used to make sambal of all sorts on a daily basis. They would always put me to work in the kitchen; I'll never forget how to make sambal in its various flavors. Growing up in an Asian kitchen, it's a nurtured inclination to do a stir-fry on any given day, I suppose.

Decided to do sambal okra. Probably the only way I would eat okra. Stir-frying it as bhindi masala could work too. I just want it dry and spicy. First time cooking this. Using a knife to dice onions and garlic was absolutely therapeutic. :P Pulled out the pan to stir-fry on a day when I didn't feel like going into the office and rather handle emails at home. In less than 20 minutes, lunch was ready. Super firm and crunchy non-slimy sambal okra with tiny ball of wild rice and mixed grains. That was a quiet tasty filling lunch for one. #impieCooks2015 

Tuesday, February 03, 2015

A Bear On Vacation


My not-so-secret love for teddy bears is indulged by very few people, namely those I see often. They occasionally buy me bears, only if they spot a cute plushie. Not all bears sitting on the shops' shelves are cute. Yeah, I still hug a bear to sleep. V bought a bear for me six years ago. Woot. Was kinda reluctant to take this one along on trips because he's quite big and takes up space. For some reason, the man likes this bear too. He now insists that the bear and his friends (other bears, cows and assorted animals) come along for vacations. I've given up and simply pack all of them cuddlies into the suitcases. Oof.

Currently, there isn't a cutie sitting in V's car. Sent a big bear to accompany V on her drives for the week. Hahaha. She didn't mind the bear hanging out. She actually entertained me by sending photos updates about how the bear was doing. The bear's feeling really smug that he got to sit in the passenger seat all by himself for a few rides.

Dates were fixed to drop off and pick up the bear. LOL. The food was incidental. Heh. It fit our mealtimes lah. Of course it was fabulous chatting with V. Always. Our schedules this quarter are crazy. But it isn't difficult to find common dates or timings to chill out. She's a gem. I appreciate how our schedules can still complement each other's, year on year, and we find time to constantly renew the friendship. 

Monday, February 02, 2015

The Rook


See, the Kindle is good for reading in dimly-lit bars with a beer. Daniel O'Malley's 2012 debut novel 'The Rook' is strangely compelling and rather enjoyable. There's a certain sort of dry humor in there. When read with a crisp British accent, the lines spouted by the various characters tickled me loads. (Reviews here, here and here.)

Myfanwy (intended to be pronounced incorrectly as 'Mifanny' in this book) Thomas is a Rook in a clandestine government organization of humans 'The Checquy' based in London. It's a hierarchical organization staffed by humans with special powers charged to protect the United Kingdom from all sorts of supernatural threats or what they call "manifestations". Humans without powers are relegated as 'Retainers' and are unlikely to attain the executive ranks within the highest management level called 'Court'. There's naturally a nemesis organization called 'Grafters' from Belgium, formally known as 'Wetenschappelijk Broederschap van Natuurkundigen' that tinkles with human physiology and make monsters out of them. It's headed up by ancient insane Graaf Gerd de Leeuwen and the slightly more sane Graaf Ernst von Suchtlen.

The Broederschap tries to subvert members of The Checquy, and naturally, there're traitors and all. Someone wiped out Myfanwy's memories and tried to kill her. She survived, without her memories. The old nerdy timid Myfanwy knew it was coming and prepared for it, leaving a series of clues and letters with tons of details for the new stronger amnesiac with a new personality who inhabited the body with all powers intact. Thus begins a quest to find out her would-be killers at Court and having to deal with a thousand threats, while reading the letters from old Myfanwy in order not to screw up too badly.

"Forty years?"
"Yes, that is how long the rumor of the duck has been going around the country."
"Dr. Crisp, I understand that the world is a strange place. I've just spent the better part of a half hour being told in an offensively patronizing manner how strange the world is. But you are telling me that this duck is older than me?"
"That duck has been in the same family for three generations," said Dr Crisp.
"The duck is immortal?" I squeaked. People looked around in surprise, and I flushed.
"The duck is... long-lived," he said.
"I'll say."
"We don't know how long-lived it will be. The only way to know if the duck is mortal is to stay alive until the duck dies."
"That's very scientific," I said. "But that duck could drastically alter the way this organization is run. Finally we'll have clear insight into upcoming events. And as far as we know, it will be an asset forever. Think of the good we'll accomplish!" 
He smiled, and then the door of the duck's room slammed open. Everyone's head jerked around in shock. 
Henderson stood in the doorway, his hands soaked in blood, feathers in his hair.
"This duck tells me nothing!" he shouted.

What got my attention, is right at the end of the book where loads of Q & A provided by the author; As in his thoughts, published reviews and all, there's a section titled 'Daniel O'Malley's playlist for The Rook'. It's talks about his chosen music playlist to some scenes in the book, or at least how it plays out in his head. Very nice! Plenty of Australian musicians; he mentioned Frou Frou, Big Pig, the Jezabels, Amiel, Bernard FanningMeredith Monk, Flanagan & AllenBear McCreary. Also mentioned is 'Strangers' by Portishead in their 1994 debut album 'Dummy', The author thought the song would match the scene of the ancient insane Graaf Gerd de Leeuwen threatening Myfanwy in his car parked outside a nightclub. I can imagine it so. Pretty cool!

He is centuries old, he is powerful, and you have been called to his limousine to receive an ultimatum. He reeks of authority and menace. He has no skin - he's a flayed human being in a tub of liquid. He's unstable. And he's Belgian. For such a situation, and for such a man, there is only one possible song. Its jarring transitions, its eerie echoes, the snatches of old-time tone, and that heartbeat-like pulse in the background. For the best effect, this should be played while you're underwater, with the lights out, and your eyes closed. If possible, throw some lake weed in there as well. After all, you want the full experience, don't you?