Kembara Tanah Liat

I'm a huge fan of master potter Iskandar Jalil's works. I missed his other exhibition at the National Institute of Education, which focused on his recent works. Didn't want to miss this exhibition in town which is till February 2017 at the National Gallery. Plenty of time to catch it again and again.

The master potter has such an astonishing range that I'm surprised the curators at the National Gallery found coherent threads within the borrowed collections and notable individual pieces, and put them together into six themes in an exhibition titled 'Kembara Tanah Liat' or 'Clay Travels'. The six themes are 'Anchoring Home', 'From the Region', 'Beauty in Imperfection', 'Modelling Architecture', 'Communicating with Clay' and 'Travelling to Know Who I Am'.

Travelling the way I do leads to nowhere. I travel not to see the sights but to know who I am. 

Kembara yang saya lakukan tidak ke mana. Saya mengembara bukan untuk melihat pemandangan tetapi untuk mengenali siapa saya.  

~ The potter's quote at 'Travelling To Know Who I Am' ('Kembara Untuk Mengenali Diri').

Loads of breathtaking creations displayed. Some I have seen, many I haven't. Lingered over each piece to read about them. Spent a lovely time in this gallery. The tongkang familiar on the rivers in olden Singapore are fired in this beautiful blue hue that I love. I also liked the stylized untitled and undated mangkuk tingkat and 'Lesong' in stoneware. Hurhurhur. There were many beautiful belanga- round-bottomed vessels to cook and hold curries and sauces.

I was so tickled by 'Tuna for Sashimi "N"' (2007) in stoneware, part of Singapore Art Museum's collection. It's just very unconventional as a ceramic piece. It certainly looks like a piece of otoro sushi with eyes. This piece belongs to part of his experiences as a Colombo Plan scholar in Japan in 1972-1973. It captures the "delicate and soft textures of tuna sashimi in the coiled swirls on its surface, and is also shaped like a fish."

'Tuna for Sashimi "N"' (2007); part of Singapore Art Museum's collection.

In a piece of untitled stoneware, the master potter also took inspiration from our only dragon kiln at Thow Kwang at Jalan Bahar, part of W.H. Lee's collection. He has worked at the kiln intermittently  throughout his career. In this piece that takes the shape of a traditional dragon kiln with a chimney and a mound, alluded to the communal facility that is well loved and familiar within the community of potters in Singapore, indicating his interest to encourage the growth of this community.

If I have to pick a favorite piece in this exhibition, perhaps it'll be '3 Gundus' (2006) in stoneware, currently owned by Far East Organization. Hurhurhur. Look at those human figures seated atop giant-horse-like things. Love how whimsical it is. It's a tongue-in-cheek reference to his 'silly' students and his humor in how he sees his role as an art educator.

'3 Gundus' (2006); part of Far East Organisation's collection.
Gundu merupakan slanga Singapura yang bererti "bodoh". 

As a counterpoint, the National Gallery also commissioned a contemporary installation by Gerald Leow- 'Some Of You Will Be Asked To Leave'. It's a wireframe. It houses some of the master potter's personal cooking pots, tables and even a hat stand. These items from the potter's home make up the second exhibition room. Visitors are allowed in 15 at a time. It's intimate and cosy. I didn't bother taking photos of the items in the room. For these personal pieces, seeing them in perspective is treasured. It's pretty fun to have a glimpse of what the artist's sense of aesthetics and identity is like at home, versus utility and practical applications.

In an interview with The Straits Times in August 2016, Iskandar Jalil says,

"My legacy is my house, where I have a lot of pieces that I don't show to the public, and my books, my writings."   

As for his public legacy, he says: "All the public wall murals and pieces in the MRT and airport, there is more than enough."

Biryani at Victory

When we feel like a local version of biryani and murtabak in town, we head to Victory at Kampong Glam opposite Sultan Mosque. It still offers one of the less stinky chicken curry around to go with your food, and the loveliest fish curry. Its usual biryani local style (chicken, mutton and beef) is quite decent and not too oily. Cooked separately, the basmati rice is vegetarian, so the kitchen simply add on the meats of your choice upon ordering.

We like going there with friends, then we can order all sorts of stuff! Heh. The masala sotong is good. No complaints about the salty-happy beehoon goreng putih ikan bilis with an egg. Vegetables are unexciting. I'm not fond of vegetables soaked in gravy at all. They always end up weird and mushy. I like them gently blanched, stir-fried or raw.

On Fridays, they have specials of dum biryani in mutton or beef that comes with dhal and raita. Slightly more Muslim-Indian Singapore style than Hyderabad-spicy. It's still pretty good. The restaurant is crowded though, because many people head over for lunch before or after prayers. We always pop by once in a bit specially for that. We could never get there early, say 11.45am. But there's still plenty of food at 2.30pm or 3pm, which is the usual time we can get there on Fridays.

Victory
701 North Bridge Road Singapore 198677
T: +65 298 6955
Hours: 7am - 11pm daily

Sugarbread

I enjoyed Balli Kaur Jaswal's debut novel 'Inheritance'. Bought her second novel 'Sugarbread' the moment it was released a few months ago in June, and it has sat in my e-pile till now. The author began writing the book a decade ago when she was a student in America, facing questions and dilemmas over where home is, over race and religion and self-identity. In the above interview with Epigram Books, she mentioned,

In a conservative culture, in a conservative community it’s the women whose honour has to be protected, it’s the women who could potentially shame the family...

The protagonist in the novel is ten-year old Punjabi-Sikh girl, Parveen, or Pin as she prefers it. In first-person narrative and bits of a throwback to her mother, she slowly uncovers family secrets and strives to understand why she mustn't be like her mother, Jini. That was 1990. When her ill grandmother moves in and brings her set of traditions, Pin struggles against conservative opinions within her family, community, with God, and to establish her own independence.

We find out about why Pin 'mustn't be like her mother'. Pin also learns about her deceased Second Uncle Bilu. Jini seems to be not that conservative when compared with her own mother or the community at large, illustrated by the gossip at the Sikh temple they once attended every Sunday. Jini's backstory is the stuff of childhood nightmares, fighting against closeted opinions within a narrow-minded village, superstitious beliefs and trying to stand up against stupid irresponsible men abusing their position of power and trust. The racial prejudice has to come in the form of the ignorant fellow classmates and the school bus attendant. I rolled eyes. Those are the worst. Insidious comments that count for nothing.

The author said that "a big part of the novel is also food". Her Ma cooks, and her moods are obvious through the foods she cooks. I suppose food plays a big part in one's sense of belonging and sense of satisfaction. But it isn't the focus in this story. I was wondering what the heck is 'sugarbread'. Readers will find out exactly what that is. It's not a food unique to Punjabi cuisine. Any child could make it, when driven to extreme hunger in the face of inedible food. Read the book!

In our house, food was not just prepared and eaten to satisfy our appetites. Ma created meals based on her mood, the weather or unusual events. I always chewed my meals carefully, tasting for clues. Cabbage leaves soaked in sweet coconut gravy told me Ma was feeling mellow. Perhaps it had rained that afternoon and I hadn't noticed it from the classroom window at school. Bay leaves and sour sauces were signs of sophistication—Ma was inspiring me to leave the narrow hallways of this block of flats where neighbors eavesdropped and tripped over each other's shoes. Cinnamon sticks were Ma's way of comforting me when she noticed a flaw in the way the world worked and she was softening the blow. The sharp tang of cumin added to any dish meant Ma was bothered about something. There were many cumin dishes.

Singapore Biennale 2016 :: An Atlas of Mirrors

The eye-catching 'Inscription of the Island' (2016) by Lim Soo Ngee.
Placed outside of Singapore Art Museum.
Material: Copper alloys with patina treatment. 

Themed 'An Atlas of Mirrors', it focuses on contemporary art from Southeast Asia, alongside South and East Asia. The artworks fall into nine 'conceptual zones'- Space, Agency, Displacement, Time, Memory, Nature, Boundaries, Absence and Identity. Since Singapore Art Museum (SAM) is the sole organizer for this edition of the Singapore Biennale, the installations are anchored at SAM and 8Q. A number of artworks is displayed at Peranakan Museum, Asian Civilisations Museum, Singapore Management University and National Museum.

Missed out on the Creative Director's tour/talk conducted by Susie Lingham last week at the fifth edition of the Singapore Biennale 2016. Had to stroll through on my own over a few weeks. No time to view all in a day. Some artworks are placed outdoors for the viewing pleasure of the public, most artworks are ticketed within SAM and 8Q.

Perhaps it's because the curatorial team is from SAM, so many of the artists aren't unfamiliar to audiences. Their pieces carry their creative interpretation and their trademark style. I don't have any particular favorites, but these two works are super interesting to me, and I couldn't quite tear my eyes off their many intricate details- Chinese artist Qiu Zhijie's 'One Has to Wander through All the Outer Worlds to Reach the Innermost Shrine at the End' (2016) and Balinese artist Made Djirna's 'Melampaui Batas' ('Beyond Boundaries', 2016).

Titarubi's 'History Repeats Itself' (2016).

Oh I was mesmerized by the cloaks of gold-plated nutmegs in this piece. Hahaha. Well, a spice once worth its weight in gold in the Dutch East Indies, but now it's just painted in gold. 'History Repeats Itself' (2016) by Indonesian artist Titarubi. Shadowy sinister figures clad in cloaks of gold nutmeg robes standing atop charred ships. Says so much about the European armada then, referencing "to the burning of ships in Indonesia by the Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie (VOC) in an attempt to seize control of the lucrative spice trade." Hollow cloaks of nutmeg, illusions of riches and power hiding a dark heart. I love those specters made more eerie in a darkened gallery. "They are spectres from the past, a dark mirror to our present."

Chinese artist Qiu Zhijie's 'One Has to Wander through All the Outer Worlds to Reach the Innermost Shrine at the End' (2016) maps his rather hilarious exploration into cartographic history. Loved the language and names of the islands and land masses. He links all elements "underlying the connections between the phantom island, Utopia, and the monsters: fear and temptation" into huge wall maps of a mythical world vaguely occupied by the time of Marco Polo and Christopher Columbus and ancient seafarers. Loved those sea and land monsters. I squatted down to photograph all of these "fantastical beasts" strewn across the floor in a mythical bestiary of handblown glass. I was trying pretty hard to find a kraken. But didn't quite see any. Heh.

Qiu Zhijie's 'One Has to Wander through All the Outer Worlds to Reach the Innermost Shrine at the End' (2016).

Balinese artist Made Djirna's 'Melampaui Batas' ('Beyond Boundaries', 2016) is absolutely intriguing in its hundreds of wall-to-wall small terracotta figures with different expressions, and those that sat in an antique ironwood boat. The boat is symbolic of journeying between worlds, carrying the human soul to its ancestral abode after death. Gleaned from Balinese spiritual beliefs of the archipelago (Nusantara), the afterworld and the living communities, the work maps the voyages undertaken by the artist, by all of us.

I spent quite a bit of time at this gallery. I really liked those little terracotta figurines. Many clung together seemingly in fear or seeking comfort; some hugged themselves; many looked like they're in pain or perhaps, a sort of wonder and confusion. Some might find the figurines creepy. But I just liked walking around and stopping by a bunch to look at their expressions, some smiling, some grimacing, some mouths are opened in a scream of sorts, et cetera. Human-like expressions. Our expressions. Community and frailty. Absolutely fascinating.

There're 'trees' dotting the gallery, fashioned from driftwood with trunks and outstretched branches, like "fragments of other lives, cultures and civilizations" beyond time, "collapsing boundaries of distance, space and culture." Regardless of one's religious beliefs of the existence of the format of life after death, or we melt into nothingness, this gallery reminds us of how there is a natural order to well...nature, and her provisions.

Made Djirna's 'Melampaui Batas' (2016).

Fun Plates for Thanksgiving!

Thought these melamine plates from Supermama were pretty fun. They can't go into the microwave, but they can hold sandwiches, fruits, cheeses and cold cuts, and assorted food. I honestly don't know if these recipes on the plates are legit. Hahahah. They seem all right. So it's for adventurous people to also google, try out the recipes and best if they tweak it to what their tastebuds prefer.

Bought a bunch of plates to bubble-wrap and mail out to the friends who don't live in Singapore. The shop gave me flat square boxes which are ideal to hold five as a set. The plates are light, don't break easily, and don't weigh too much even as a set of five. Each parcel ready to be mailed weighed slightly less than 1kg. Perfect. Lighter than a big pack of instant coffee. Each parcel got to its intended recipient before this last week of November. Happy to get those photos captioned 'safely received'. Yay.

Happy Thanksgiving, people. 🦃🌲🍁⛄️🌮🍻💞 To a bountiful table, civil conversations and we could perhaps agree on what makes a good pumpkin pie. 

再爨蘿蔔燜牛腩

Now that I've stocked up on chu hou paste (柱侯醬) from Amoy (淘大) and Patchun (八珍), I wanted to cook up a pot of Cantonese-style beef stew (蘿蔔燜牛腩) again. Just to experiment. The bottle of paste used the last round was not quite 'fragrant' enough and I had to add additional fermented bean paste and all.  I know the flavors of Amoy's chu hou paste. Decided to try Patchun's this round. Unfortunately I don't have access to those little markets and provision shops in Hong Kong that produce small batches of their home-made chu hou paste. Those are the best.

Work's been mad. Had no time to pop out to Tekka Market to get the cuts of beef needed from our trusted Joe's Butchery. Tendons, tripe, brisket, shank and oxtail. Made do with a quick zip into Meidi-ya (or Huber's, depending on which is more convenient) which always guarantees quality, but ends up rather pricey. 😐

Patchun's composition is fine, but it is salty!!! FWAAH. Luckily saltiness could be toggled. Hovered by the bubbling pot for the first 45 minutes to adjust the levels of salt versus initial flavors, giving it the necessary allowance for them to sink in when they would sit quietly for an hour after the big boil. If I nitpick anymore, I'd better make my own chu hou paste. Like I said, I cook via 'a pinch' or 'a dash'. Not pedantic about it. #ImpieCooks2016

I'm not particularly confident of cooking for friends though. Soups can lah. I mean, I certainly don't invite people over...like...'Oh I'm cooking, come over next Tuesday!' If they happen to crash my kitchen on a day when I'm cooking, and they randomly need food, then yes, they get to try it. By that rationale and timing, not even the BFF gets to sit down to eat my food. :P She's definitely not going to be forgiving if I screw up anything.

The man didn't seem to mind this version too. Aiyoh, he's just thrilled that I'm cooking. Dohh. Yes, I cook when I feel like it, not when it's needed or whatever. Hahaha. Beef stew, eggs sunny-side-up and a plate of French beans stir-fried with sambal were more than sufficient for a satisfying dinner. It was a good meal for a rainy evening. Fortifying for a night when both the man and I had to clear work papers till 1.30am.

'Disgraced' by SRT

I was hesitant to watch Ayad Akhtar's 'Disgraced' staged by Singapore Repertory Theatre (SRT), and directed by Nate Silver, who directed the Pulitzer-Prize-winning 90-minute play's Broadway debut. It is not a soothing play and it will ignite conversations that one might not want to hold with too many opposing opinions afterwards over social drinks or supper.

The play is set at a dinner party at home between Pakistani-Muslim-American now avowed apostate New York corporate attorney Amir Kapoor (formerly Amir Abdullah) and his white American artist trophy wife Emily, their guests- Amir's colleague, litigator African-American Jory, and her Jewish art-curator husband Isaac. Cue honest awkward dinner conversation. (Plenty of reviews online here, here, here, here, here and here.)

The Boston Globe wrote in a review in January 2016,

“Disgraced” explores the brewing clashes between ancient religious tenets and the modern world in post-9/11 America. It has become the most produced play at American regional theaters this season, with at least 18 productions staged nationally and some 40 happening around the world. Akhtar is also busy adapting “Disgraced” for HBO.

SRT's production stars Gaurav Kripalani (Amir), Jennifer Coombs (Emily), LaNisa Frederick (Jory), and Daniel Jenkins (Issac). Fantastic actors who fleshed out the story, challenges and angst in a rather impolite conversation of identity, race and Islam, and American-ness. Cultural and religious conditioning, or otherwise. It's a great play, and well-staged. That's precisely why I like it yet I'm grim about how ill-at-ease it made me. I probably squirmed loads in my seat and had this sombre look throughout the 90-minutes.

There're too many divisive elements tearing apart societies. Not just today. History tells us so too. I am grateful for Singapore, and while we're not perfect (i.e the blindness of majority privilege), it is better than what I want to deal with living in say, France post-13 November 2015, and America post-November 8, 2016. I'm uncomfortable with the thorny themes of this play, as much as it reflects reality, and need to be put out there to be discussed. It's definitely not a dinner conversation I'd like to be part of. In fact, it's not a conversation I want to have at all casually with anybody. I'd welcome it in an academic discourse in a lecture hall. So if this is part of a play, then it's the only way I'd sit through a conversation like that in a social setting. 

Frying Up Sambal Terasi

I seem to always forget to stock up on lemongrass. Told the girlfriend I needed to get a pack of lemongrass before swinging upstairs to meet her for dinner. She was all like, "What are you cooking?" Sambal matah lor. "I want!!!" I grimaced. All my girlfriends know how to make demands. Hahahahah. 😏 But they're quite smart. They always ask for chilli, sambal-something or soup. Things that I can easily do and won't stress out over them.

I refused to give her sambal matah. Mine is raw lah. It won't keep very well. But I could fry up a batch of sambal belachan for her. That would keep so much better and she could even freeze a portion for later consumption. I always fry sambal-something in the kitchen anyway. I prefer to do my own rather than buying bottles at the shops. #ImpieCooks2016

It was a very happy thing to finish a presentation at work (which went smoothly), and whoosh home to blend chillies and shallots and fry up a batch of sambal terasi. It was a relief to clear my mind of all work thoughts, step into the kitchen and simply focus on getting the task at hand done. Waited for the freshly-made sambal terasi to cool, then scooped them into tiny bottles. Ah, that divine pungent aroma that wafted through the flat. Mmmm.

Of Complicated Human Relationships

Bought a few books at the SWF bookstore. One is Grace Chia's collection of 14 short stories titled 'Every Moving Thing That Lives Shall Be Food'.

Life partners, fit, mistakes, choices, displacement, living overseas, growing up, the sorts. These are familiar stories which will resonate with all of us, be it from our personal experiences or heard through the tales of good friends. However, most of the stories revolve around romantic relationships and their resultant emotions and consequences. Not a genre I have patience for. But the stories are short and I persevered because the language is good. Only three stories don't revolve around heterosexual relationships, and instead focus on friendships between women, and of larger family relationships.

One story that talks about friendship between two women is 'Gold Water'. Of the protagonist who is a Singaporean and Ai Ning, a Taiwanese. They met in graduate school in London, then separately return to their lives in Singapore and Taiwan, meeting up occasionally in different cities. The story describes their undemanding friendship that spanned a decade or so. Their lives diverged, and the protagonist seems to be stunned by Ai Ning's choice of getting married and having a child, and running a bubble tea business in London where she now resides with the husband.

Are you happy? 

This was the most obvious question. How did she take a different path and end up on the route that, on the first glance, was what I should be taking? Was the aphorism she said years ago accurate? Should it be: Everything that rises must diverge? 

I'm content. That's all it matters, she uttered wistfully. 

You've always wanted contentment. 

Comes in various forms. How it appears is beyond our control. 

And your PhD? What happened to that? Did you finish it? 

............... 

Was Ai Ning water or gold? Which was I? Did her former idealism float with the wind? Or were my intellectual ideas, the ones I preached for a living, merely hot air? It was here, there, nowhere. Based on nothing solid, nothing of value? 

We had both come so far in learning about each other. In the end, it was about not knowing who we were, trying to uncover our own mysteries and coming back home to our exiled selves that mattered the most. We mirror ourselves through the friendships we make. We outgrow friendships. Sometimes, we outgrow ourselves. There is no permanence in our likes and dislikes, or our needs and our wants. All is immaterial. Immeasurable.

Some parts are strange in the sense that the author uses associations that are redundant, I feel. In 'Ice Flowers', there's this line, "I smiled, took out my smartphone and started texting." I don't know when these stories were written, but they are published in 2016, not 2006. To state that a phone is a smartphone seems unnecessary. In this context of teens in university, set in Nanyang Technological University of Singapore, who doesn't use a smartphone? We don't even have 2G network or its supported SIMs anymore.

The eponymous title story 'Every Moving Thing That Lives Shall Be Food' describes the relationship between Huey and her boyfriend Jonathan, whom she has dated for fourteen months. It talks about their visit/vacation to Singapore, all that they did, highlighting the differences between them once out of Oregon and out of the country, and how they broke up at the end of the trip. Yet they remain friends, until Huey realizes that Jonathan is the one who simply can't commit to the relationship and even cheated on her with a masseuse while on the final vacation together in Singapore.

He was as religiously anti-meat-eating as she was carnivorous. Coming to Singapore with her on his first trip to Asia had upset his routine. He didn't know where to find organic restaurants; and Huey and her family and friends were not vegetarians. Their feasts were strange and spicy and full of animal parts. 

............... 

And I'm the hypocritical one. And I'm the snob. And I'm the meat eater who takes the life of animals. Who's the animal here now? Huey spat at him. 

Jonathan's phone rang. Huey saw it was the masseuse calling him. His hands reached out for his phone. Huey swung her arms backwards, and with a graceful swing and a calculated arc of a radius that would be just right, flung his phone across the cafe where it smashed into pieces on the hardwood floor. The ringing of the phone stopped. Huey beamed widely.

Sambal Matah khas Bali

It's a little hard to go without chilli for my meals for more than two consecutive days, I need something more pungent than pepper, chilli flakes or plain fish sauce or soy with chilli padi. Bottled sauces also don't quite do it for me. Once, I couldn't stop giggling when I spotted a bottle of sambal matah on the shelves at Trader Joe's which further described it as 'Indonesian salsa with peppers, lemongrass, garlic and shallots'. HAHAHAHAHA.

My fridge always holds about three different types of sambal at home. One would normally fry up the mixture of belachan, onions or garlic, and chillies, and have it cooked. There is one type that I prefer raw to cooked- sambal matah. The only thing- I'd have to finish it in two days. Preferably within 24 hours.

Wanted to make sambal matah the next day, but forgot to stock up on lemongrass. Had to pop by a supermarket for it at the last minute- at Cold Storage at Centerpoint which has limited choices of fresh foods. Stared at the pack of lemongrass labelled 'organic'. That was all the shelves had. Nothing non-organic. S$2.99 for like six stalks. Chehhh. The usual S$2.45 non-organic pack held a few more stalks. Whatever, fine. I'm having them raw. #ImpieCooks2016

I still prefer using a lesung batu over a marble pestle and mortar. I'm not just bruising herbs and making cocktails. The marble and wood versions don't quite hold on to the spices when pounding. Someone gave me a molcajete that's made of the traditional basalt (lava rock). Wah, I didn't know how to clean it! Too porous! And my spices get caught terribly in all the holes! UGH. It now sits as a decoration piece to hold spice packets. Heh. Granite works best in my kitchen.

New ISOLATE Ear Plugs

The one accessory I always carry, is a pair of earplugs, even as an awkward teen trying to be cool while getting plastered at Zouk with strange music (mainly house and EDM) that I really can't appreciate.

I've got hypersensitive hearing which is very mild hyperacusis, diagnosed. Not tinnitus, thank goodness. If I want to continue to hang out with the cool kids at music festivals, rock and metal gigs, then earplugs are a must. Needless to say, earplugs in-flight during descent is absolutely imperative. Otherwise the pain in the ears is excruciating and I feel like my head and ears are going to explode.

Earplugs lower dB for sure, but I need them to also maintain sound quality. Over the years, I've been using Etymotic Research, DUBS, Eargasm, and various brands of custom-molded versions. They all work fine. But I'm always on-the-lookout for new stuff. Heh. Kickstarter is a great shopping platform. Hurhurhur. Well, hits and misses, but mainly fun. Flare Audio's ISOLATE earplugs looked great. They're definitely better than the traditional foam earplugs.

Didn't bother with the titanium PRO or platinum-plated. A bit heavy lah. Ordered two pairs of anodized solid aluminium in black and natural in September when the project was already fully-funded. It arrived in super-quick time! Great. Sometimes delivery of items can be way delayed. It's just earplugs. Packaging was snug and compact. The ear-foam come in sizes of small, medium and large. Just nice. The small is my fit, and I passed the extra packs of medium and large to the man, and took his unused small. There's a small impractical pouch to hold those earplugs. Ugh. Why didn't they just use a nifty case or a tube that would better complement these stylish earplugs? Grrr. That would have made it so easy and pretty to carry around.

Laksa At CreatureS

Made our way to CreatureS for some dinner after unsatisfying light bites at a social schmooze. It's been a year since the restaurant opened and the kitchen has ironed out all weird fusion kinks. Loved the scent of lemongrass that greeted us the moment we walked into the restaurant. The current menu sounded pretty fun. Familiar Asian-Peranakan items. However we weren't adventurous enough to try an appetizer of chocalate gado-gado or cauliflower and pink lentil with you tiao dressed with light coconut cream.

Portions are pretty big for two, even the bowls of soup, but good for three to four at a table, share everything! The itek tim which they dared put in the description as "boiled the old fashioned way", and we weren't disappointed. Heh. It was thick, salty and satisfying.There were prawns abound in the dishes, especially in a soup they named 'Broth of Hae' and spicy prawn pasta aglio e olio, both of which I eyed with suspicion and stayed the hell away from.

Loads of pork. Ngoh hiang in the usual form stuffed with minced prawns and pork, and cuttlefish kueh pie tie. The not-strangely named 'Bali' was a dish of grilled pork collar slathered with Balinese style tumeric-based rempah with a side salad of raw baby sprouts and lychee. The salad was the perfect accompaniment to the fiery spices. The sambal belachan was awesome.

I was curious about their fish and congee. But not that keen at S$30 for a portion which by now I know will be nicely done- '喜 Xi', pan-fried medium-rare salmon fillet served with poached white cabbage, and dried scallop congee with crispy bacon slivers. It honestly sounded comforting, but naaah. Another day.

I was there for the laksa, which is only available on Friday nights and weekends. The broth was pretty good. Well, it is laksa lemak, but it held too much coconut milk and to my tastebuds, it became overly lemak and became jelat. If it could ease off a little on that, it would be perfect. The accompanying sambal was great. At S$24, it was a big portion more than sufficient for two to share, full of pieces of chicken, prawns and tofu puffs, slices of fishcake, and four quail eggs.

'Creatures Laksa', nyonya-style.

SWF 2016 :: Sayang

There were plenty of events at this year's Singapore Writers Festival. Nothing jumped out at me though. No panel that was a 'must-go'. Still, I dutifully bought the festival pass, scanned through the programs and bought tickets, unconsciously making space in the schedule for some panels.

There was this strange new ticketing system for non-chargeable events that was baffling. Like a festival pass plus an attendance ticket that is free but must be registered and collected. Anyway. For me, there were four sessions that were quite the highlights.

1) Atia Abawi's lecture 'Europe's Migrant Crisis'- I'm not sharing my thoughts on any online platform about the contents of her lecture, except that it was very good, touching on fundamentalism, starvation, Afghanistan, Europe's crisis, refugees and religion. The Middle-East-based foreign correspondent and author's lecture was human and sobering. I found it a bit ironic for many reasons, least of all how my affluent tiny country has no capacity to accept refugees. I'll chat about this with my like-minded friends offline though. Her semi-fictional novel 'The Secret Sky' (2014) set in present-day Afghanistan is worth a read.

2) 'What Makes A Story Singaporean?':-  Moderated by Richard Angus Whitehead, the panel held familiar names of Simon Tay, Balli Kaur Jaswal and Philip Holden. The question is on ongoing debate on identity. We don't need Singlish to make it sound 'authentic'. Setting stories in Singapore never makes them Singaporean. i.e. imho, Jonathan Lethem's rather lousy 'A Gentlemen's Game'. It was a robust discussion. And there wasn't any sort of conclusion. Writers will continue to flounder, and of course we saved the discussion on cultural appropriation and the sorts till the following weekend.

3) Jonathan Friesen's lecture 'Creating A Society of Empathy':- Admittedly, I'm not acquainted with any of his books till I did some last-minute homework before attending the lecture. The author and motivational speaker talks about his struggle living with Tourette Syndrome and epilepsy. Inspiring? Always.

4) Lionel Shriver's 'An Unflinching Eye Into the Truth':- I was too curious. I do like her writing. Had to pop in, and sat as near as I could to the exit. Moderated by Divya Victor, it was erm a really candid session. I rushed through 'The Mandibles: A Family, 2029-2047' and read its associated criticism. Hmmmm. That wall in the novel built to keep out Mexicans got really real. The author didn't quite deviate from discussion about the book although the results of the US Presidential Elections were commented on. She seemed really shocked about that as she only found out the results upon landing in Singapore. In the aftermath of the US Presidential Elections, the author's prior response to her book's criticisms in the Washington Examiner published on 23 September 2016,

This, Shriver wrote, has made the Left now the "oppressor," the ones who enforce conformity. Shriver said she is a "lifelong Democratic voter" but is "dismayed by the radical Left's ever-growing list of dos and don'ts — by its impulse to control, to instill self-censorship as well as to promote real censorship, and to deploy sensitivity as an excuse to be brutally insensitive to any perceived enemy." 

She said all the "frenzies" surrounding claims of cultural appropriation, trigger warnings, microaggressions and safe spaces are "overtly crazy" and will push people toward GOP presidential nominee Donald Trump.

We've all heard about what happened in Brisbane and what the author said in her speech. In an interview with our national newspaper on 1 November 2016, she said,

"I am of two minds about whether I should have given that speech - and not because I can't take the flak or because I've experienced the slightest regret about any of the sentiments it expressed," she says. 

"I still think the whole notion of 'cultural appropriation' is wrong- headed and poisonous, as it applies to anyone or anything really, but also fiction writing in particular." 

She adds: "Because I find this concept so unworthy of perpetuation and the discussion unworthy of conducting at all, I worry that by starting what turned into an international debate, I inadvertently fired up a fad I had wanted to help extinguish." 

"Sometimes to have an argument at all is to lose it. So I am in dread of this issue continuing to follow me."

While I'm not a fan of Lionel Shriver's 'The Mandibles', I think we need to discuss more than cultural appropriation. It's about how races are portrayed in a story and the stereotypes she placed the characters in. That's one huge issue. Yeah, I checked my privilege at the door too. This thing about cultural appropriation is well, in a very generic and simplistic term, like our uhh 'Racial Harmony Day' which I'm befuddled by. Each time 'cultural appropriation' is brought up, it needs to be expanded in its context and not just bandied about as a term. If cultural appropriation is defined loosely as such, or not quite as interpreted by said author, then what will our Singapore writers write about? What language can we use? What is majority privilege? What is Singapore?

This Bit About North Korea

Read Adam Johnson's nine short stories in 'Emporium' (2002) and enjoyed that. However I resisted reading his 'The Orphan Master's Son' (2012) for the longest time. With a huge dose of skepticism, I finally opened it. At least the author has taken one trip to North Korea, one more than I have. Heh. (Reviews here, here, here and here.)

I like the author's narrative style and use of the language. In two parts titled 'The Biography of Jun Do' and 'The Confessions of Commander Ga', the book takes readers through protagonist Pak Jun Do's growing up years in a state orphanage Long Tomorrows because his cruel father is its director, his subsequent life in service to the state and its subversive activities.

Of course there's a bizarre trip to Texas where Jun Do was part of an unsuccessful unexplained mission. He subsequently escapes prison and impersonates Commander Ga, whom he may or may not have killed. He also moves into the house as Commander Ga, taking over this life with a wife, famous actress in the capital Sun Moon and her children. Then the story ends in the only way it could. Imprisonment, or death for Jun Do (as Ga), and a daring escape to America by Sun Moon orchestrated by Jun Do (as Ga).

Ga looked up to the jet trail overhead and followed it toward the horizon. A wave of satisfaction ran through him. A day wasn't just a match you struck after all the others had gone out. In a day, Sun Moon would be in America. Tomorrow would fnd her in a place where she could perform a song she'd waited a lifetime to sing. From now on, it would no longer be about survival and endurance. And this new day, they were embarking on it together. 

Returning the Dear Leader's gaze, Ga felt no fear looking into the eyes of the man who would get the last word. In fact, Ga was oddly carefree. I'd have felt this my whole life, Ga thought, if you had never existed. Ga felt his own sense of purpose, he was under his own command now. What a strange, new feeling it was. Perhaps this was what Wanda had in mind when she stood before that expanse of Texas sky and asked if he felt free. It could be felt, he now knew. His fingers were buzzing with it, it rattled his breathing, it allowed him to suddenly see all the lives he might have lived, and that feeling didn't go away when Commander Park's men knocked him to the ground and dragged him by his heels toward a waiting crow. 

There's this thing about 'realism' going on. After a while, I didn't care if the author meant the story to be set in North Korea. It could have been a dystopia in a parallel universe for all intent and purposes. It's this thing about the absurdity of life in a totalitarian state, which is honestly, not unlike some strange families in liberal democracies.

I'm also really curious as to how 'pumpkin rind soup' tastes like. This dish mentioned in the novel can't be referring to hobakjuk, can it? 

Pasta Carbonara, Properly Done

Normally another generic mall restaurant I wouldn't bother with, but the dear girlfriend sent a photo of Caffé B's menu that piqued my interest. Almost the same photo here. Do you see the outline in red? It offers a carbonara with egg yolk, promising absolutely NO CREAM. How rare is that?!

I don't hang out at Marina Bay Sands (MBS) or its restaurants. But on the usual work day when I'm zipping around offices, it isn't difficult to head over to the Central Business District and the Marina Bay Financial Center to meet friends for lunch or drinks. This dear girlfriend made a date and took me to Caffé B to satisfy my curiosity. We strolled over for lunch on a day when it decided not to rain.

There was a spicy fish aglio e olio. It was topped with a nicely-seared piece of seabass with skin. We appreciated that. Of course I ordered the spaghetti carbonara. It came out looking and tasting exactly what I had hoped for. Hurrah! The spaghetti was nicely al dente, and all that egg yolk. Mmmm. 😍 It was a tad salty, probably from the pieces of bacon. But I could happily live with that. I don't take the bacon, but don't mind them in the pasta for flavor. That's the whole point of carbonara. I love pasta and its accompanying carbohydrates. So I ate up all the spaghetti and left a pile of bacon at the side. Heeeheehee.

Caffé B offers limited choices of pasta at lunch, but they sufficed for a one-dish meal. At its current prices of S$18-S$20 per pasta, it's super comparable to many restaurants in town, way surpassing some other restaurants' and cafes' crap pasta that are priced at S$24 a dish. I HATE THAT. Good pasta isn't difficult to cook; good pasta also doesn't have to be priced at more than S$20 each when it's just plain aglio e olio or arrabbiata. MBS isn't inconvenient to get to. I'm definitely coming back to the restaurant for more of its food at lunch. Not dinner. Dinner prices aren't friendly.

'A World United'

It was a hectic morning that began at 7am stuck in boardrooms. Needed to get some fresh air. Glad for the change of pace and temperature at mid-day when strolling out to lunch. Glad it wasn't raining and even though it was cloudy, it was nice to feel the UV rays on my skin.

Walked by the Promontory at Marina Bay and stopped at this public art sculpture. I've never seen it till today. It was much later that with a tinge of shame, I realized that it's one of the two winning artworks commissioned by the City Development Limited (CDL), Urban Redevelopment Authority (URA) and the Singapore Youth Olympic Games Committee in August 2010.

This is titled 'A World United', created by ceramicist and sculptor Huang Yifan, then 22 years old. He's 29 now and is still a full-time artist. The installation reflects the 26 sports of the Youth Olympic Games, illustrating the ideal of peace through sport, encouraging mutual respect, and ideals. The second installation at the other end is titled 'Breathe', a 33ft-tall kinetic wind sculpture created by artist and designer Edwin Cheong, then 36 years old.

Haizzz. I've been in a bit of a funk all week, and sighing deeply all of yesterday... not exactly struggling to understand why the electorate voted the way they did. I get that. Analysis is what I do at work, whether I agree with a course of action, or not. I have to distill it into its pros and cons and lay it out there, for someone else to decide what they want to do with it. But it's still staggering to see political theater play out in full glory, at how some countries are so influential to the extent that their Presidents and policies could affect the world's economy, and our minuscule existence and insignificant lives.

Well, I definitely needed this reminder, beautifully placed outdoors today.  

Huang Yifan's 'A World United' (2010) measures 4m in height and 1.5m in width.
Material: Stainless steel and 2K auto paint. 

The Star-Spangled Banner

Screenshot taken at 3.45am on Wednesday 9 November 2016, Singapore. 

We can't deny that the results of the US Presidential Elections don't affect us. The President-Elect, the House and the Senate. Both Presidential nominees aren't ideal. It's between the devil and the deep blue sea. The ratification of the Trans-Pacific Partnership (TPP) that our government so badly wants is likely going into limbo. Also, Singapore, said President-Elect might rescind a lot of privileges from a nice fat US-Singapore Free Trade Agreement 2004 (USSFTA). He did accuse us of stealing American jobs.

Generally, it's 'business as usual' when the stock markets right themselves. But the words and actions will trickle down; we can't underestimate the upheaval and ripple effects to the rest of the world. And future wars. While I can see the proposed policies and changes beyond the brash human and understand their appeal towards a disillusioned portion of American society (which I can't even begin to understand), I can't turn a blind eye to an American President-Elect who seems to stand for everything I stand against, and this gradual and strong rise of the far right. He will hold executive orders that he can push through without being caught in a congressional gridlock. Remember them? I don't think he'll forget all of them. So half of the United States of America is potentially chock-full of blatant bigotry and misogyny from now on. 😢😱😵

Certainly, as a non-American, my position and outlook is going to be different from a voter's and even then, voter opinions differ in different states, cities and towns, all dependent on how the various policies have affected their lives. And the frightful Electoral College. My dread seeped in pretty early, like as early as a week ago, but it turned into stone by 2pm Singapore time yesterday. This is going to be an awkward Thanksgiving. But at least New York and the West Coast stood their ground. Thank gawwd for Reps. Tammy Duckworth, Catherine Cortez Masto, Mazie Hirono and Kamala Harris, and always Patty Murray.

God Bless America. 

Cat Grant's Lines Are Fun!

**NETFLIX SUPERGIRL S1 SPOILER ALERT!!!**

Checked out DC and Warner Bros. and Netflix's 'Supergirl'. Not quite keen to follow through the way I did for Marvel and Netflix's 'Daredevil', 'Jessica Jones' and 'Luke Cage'. But I still ended up fast-forwarding through some of the 'Supergirl' episodes. The bits where I paused to watch are the scenes of Calista Flockhart as Cat Grant. Cat Grant still reminds me of Ally McBeal, not so much of her other characters Kitty Walker or Ellen Kelly-O'Rourke. The same upward twitches at the mouth, the same stares. Heh. Cat Grant is certainly less neurotic than Ally McBeal. Heh.

Couldn't help grinning at these lines in one scene between Cat Grant and Lucy Lane in S1Ep10. All good for a girl's career and, yeah, I've recently been guilty of wearing Lululemon tights to the office. In black of course, that's the easiest color to get away with under a blazer and heels. I don't drive and refuse to lug around a bag of clothes to change into after pilates. Just a clean blouse works.

Cat Grant: A few weeks ago you were briefing the Joint Chiefs of Staff. And now you're available to meet me on a day's notice wearing a glorified pair of yoga pants. 

Lucy Lane: Oh, they're Balenciaga... 

Cat Grant: They're yoga pants.

Said scene in S1E10. But can't quite see Lucy Lane's 'yoga pants' under her hands.
(Google images)

For context, Cat Grant is offering a job to Lucy Lane as General Counsel in CatCo Worldwide Media. It's a pseudo interview that Lucy Lane isn't even aware that she's participating in. After those opening lines and polite talk, Cat Grant continues,

Now, look, I'm not immune to the allure of James Olsen wearing a shirt that is unbuttoned one too many. But a woman with brains who gives up everything for love inevitably finds herself staring into an existential abyss that men, babies and cardio bars simply cannot fill. 

You are a smart and accomplished woman who needs to work, or you will lose your confidence, your sense of identity, and most importantly, your mind.

Hear, hear. 

Nasi Lemak

'Recipe Plate'- Supermama.
Material: Food-safe melamine;
26.5cm in diameter.

Love nasi lemak sold by the makciks. Made for so many memorable childhood lunches. I don't care about the fish or chicken wing. I doubt there're any decent S$2 versions nowadays.

All that's required to make a good nasi lemak, is a thin piece of omelette, ikan bilis and toasted peanuts, and very good sambal. On the assumption that the cook knows precisely the ratio of coconut milk and water to rice grains.

There're also very few nasi lemak stalls that I fancy. Most makciks and their stalls are long gone. We can only have fabulous mee siam and nasi lemak from the friends' kitchens. I avoid eateries named Ponggol, Adam Road (even the 'original' at the hawker center), and I have a special dislike of Fong Seng since two decades ago. Currently, we zip to Boon Lay Power Nasi Lemak at Boon Lay Place hawker center, or Nasi Lemak Kukus that moved from Upper Thomson Road to its current Selegie location.

Yeah, there's this hip new nasi lemak eatery at Ann Siang Hill, but hey, we all can cook a mean version at home too. So on a weekend when we bothered to do it, we made a potluck out of it. Hosts J and L whipped up the fragrant nasi lemak and eggs. They used basmati rice. Yay. The also fried up chicken wings and drumlets, and ikan kuning. Can't believe that this tiny fish that I've eaten all my life is now endangered. I suppose we could replace ikan kuning with ikan tenggeri. What a pity that we didn't fish sustainably and a piece of childhood memory might fade.

The man and I contributed rendang daging. An easy dinner that hit all the right spots. I even asked for two eggs sunny-side up. Wheeeeeee. There were nyonya kueh, butter cookies from Jenny Bakery and a single-cask whisky from Westland for dessert. Busted my carb quota and had to have a quick late night trudge up and down the stairs to aid digestion. No regrets.

Are they all Yunior?

Got a new stash of books from D and am pleased as punch. Started with 'Drown', the first compilation of 10 short stories by Junot Díaz which was published in 1996. (Reviews here, here and here.)

The author seems to favor a type of protagonist. Half of his protagonists in these stories set in the city of Santo Domingo are named Yunior for short. With an older brother named Rafa. The other protagonists are simply referred to as 'I'. I don't know if they're one and the same person sharing different experiences with the readers or the author just likes to name them all Yunior. Had to google around to read about the author's frame of mind and intent when writing these stories.

I modelled Yunior's struggle on my earlier self in that it wasn't until my late 20s that I began to realise 'this shit doesn't work'. Over the 16 years this book took to write I always pictured this image of Yunior having this terrible metal mask that he is trying to tear off his face, all the while not sure whether he still has a face underneath it. 

~ Junot Díaz's words in an interview with The Guardian in September 2012.

Although eponymous title story 'Drown' is full of teenage angst, shoplifting, misdemeanors and even the exploration into sexuality, it's written in an even tone in first person narrative. The protagonist in this story has no name. His best pal Beto went away to college and the last summer they spent together involved two sexual encounters. However, right at the beginning of the story, we know he doesn't speak to Beto anymore, presumably because of that last night spent together.

My mother tells me Beto's home, waits for me to say something, but I keep watching the TV. Only when she's in bed do I put on my jacket and swing through the neighborhood to see. He's a pato now but two years ago we were friends and he would walk into the apartment without knocking, his heavy voice rousing my mother from the Spanish of her room and drawing me up from the basement, a voice that crackled and made you think of uncles or grandfathers.

I blinked at the title 'How to Date a Browngirl, Blackgirl, Whitegirl, or Half'. To my relief, it's entirely satirical, of course. Almost hilarious. Picked out an excerpt here that doesn't require that much background or explanation. However, it's totally worth it to read this witty story in its full context.

You have choices. If the girl's from around the way, take her to El Cibao for dinner. Order everything in your busted-up Spanish. Let her correct you if she's Latina and amaze her if she's black. If she's not from around the way, Wendy's will do. As you walk to the restaurant talk about school. A local girl won't need stories about the neighborhood but the other ones might. Supply the story about the loco who'd been storing canisters of tear gas in his basement for years, how one day the canisters cracked and the whole neighborhood got a dose of military-strength stuff. Don't tell her that your moms know right away what it was, that she recognized its smell from the year the United States invaded your island.

In 'Negocios', we learn how Yunior's father Ramón de las Casas left Santo Domingo and the family for a better life in the United States. The father was already regularly cheating on his mother before he left, and in the United States, of course the fastest way to citizenship is to marry an American and secure it. That's exactly what Ramón did, to a Nilda and had children with her. But in the end, he left her too, in the most cowardly of ways. Fast forwarded to years later, the children from the two marriages meet as adults, and Yunior also met Nilda. Googled for the meaning of 'negocios'. I took it to mean 'an agreement' in this context. Well well well.

With the hum of a new life Papi should have found it easy to bury the memory of us but neither his conscience, nor the letters from home that found him wherever he went, would allow it. Mami's letters, as regularly as the months themselves, were corrosive slaps in the face. It was now a one-sided correspondence, with Papi reading and not mailing anything back. He opened the letters wincing in anticipation. Mami detailed how his children were suffering, how his littlest boy was so anemic people thought he was a corpse come back to life; she told him about his oldest son, playing in the barrio, tearing open his feet and exchanging blows with his so-called friends. Mami refused to talk about her condition. She called Papi a desgraciado and a puto of the highest order for abandoning them, a traitor worm, an eater of pubic lice, a cockless, ball-less cabrón. He showed Jo-Jo the letters, often at drunken bitter moments, and Jo-Jo would shake his head, waving for two more beers. you, my compadre, have done too many things wrong. If you keep this up, your life will spring apart. 

Took The Lunch Buffet

Pleased with the buffet spread at Rang Mahal. Excluding the appetizers and desserts, I think there were about ten dishes including two biryani- chicken and vegetarian. Got my biryani, curries, sambar and chutney. Happy to sit down with M who's beginning a new job earlier than expected. We're seizing all opportunities to do lunch or coffee instead of dinner which is tougher to schedule.

There was an uthappam station. But with only one choice- cheese. I didn't ask if the chef could do another savory type. The cheese uthappam tickled me to no end. I usually prefer my uthappam done regular with onions and chillies, with sprouts or cabbage. But okay, cheese it was.

Sometimes I wonder at the wisdom of picking a buffet over the a la carte menu. But that lunch, we wanted variety; we're two girls with small stomachs that will never have the capacity to do biryani and two other dishes. A buffet lunch would be ideal if we're having Indian cuisine. I want to taste all 'em curries and gravy!

A New Water Bottle!

Was gifted a lovely new water bottle by Y. Made by Fressko, it promises tasty water. Heh. It's a mixture of bamboo and double-walled glass. Secretly gleeful that the water bottle came in glass instead of the new vacuum flasks which holds a pink! Muahahahaha.

I'm definitely using this to infuse fruits and herbs with water. Only water. No other liquids allowed. If need be, yeah, smoothies and juices could go in. On work days, it's no sweat lugging a glass bottle to and fro. It honestly doesn't add that much weight if I'm mainly plonked in one or two venues a day. Y said "It's kinda frivolous la". Not at all!! It's such a practical yet gorgeous gift. It's in the perfect volume of 400ml/13oz.

One long day at the office, I even bothered to fill it with a smoothie for lunch and washed it out at the pantry before stealing an orange from the communal fridge for the bottle, then re-fill it with water. I don't care if there're benefits to drinking fruit-infused water. Totally not bothered to leave the bottle in the fridge overnight or whatever. The only reason I might leave it in the fridge is because I want it cold. The water filters at home work great. The main point is for these fruits to mask whatever metallic, flat and stale flavors from tap and boiled water that fills up the bottle through the day.

Man Man Unagi

Not a fan of Teppei in its original restaurant or whichever else outlet serving whatever-don or bara-chirashi-whatever. I found them all to be quite untasty. Some are downright awful, especially the outlets at Republic Plaza and Millenia Walk. When Teppei's newest venture Man Man Unagi opened, I was curious enough to at least eat there once. It brands itself as an unagi specialty restaurant. The man was more enthusiastic because he really likes unagi.

I rarely eat unagi or anago. One, eels. Eioowwww. Two, I'm violently resistant to putting anything with soft bones in my mouth. Eels, sardines, Bombay duck, the sorts. Three, Japanese freshwater eels are on ICUN's endangered list since 2014 and it's unclear if farming eels and limiting catches have helped. Man Man Unagi's supplies apparently come from Isshiki on Mikawa Bay in Aichi-ken. A good two-hour drive west from the famed eel region of Hamana-ko (or Lake Hamana) in Hamamatsu in Enshū, Shizuoka-ken.

I oddly had higher hopes for Man Man Unagi because I heard that the Head Chef Nakagawa has been grilling eels for two decades. I wasn't disappointed. The menu holds nothing else but eels. It serves up great quality food at reasonable prices. Say between S$25 to S$28 for a set. Be prepared for tiny tables placed so close to one another that you can't actually talk about anything meaningful without being overheard, and long queues under no shelter out the front door. We simply strolled in because it was a party of two and we were there at 6pm.

Once you get those freshwater eels right, the grilling is brainless. Get the timing right. There're only two styles- Kansai and Kanto (where eels are sliced open along the back, and steamed first before grilling). Man Man's kitchen uses my preferred Kansai style. There're many unadon sets on the menu. Take your pick. I'm not fond of tare sauce, so no kabayaki-anything. If I eat unagi, it's always done shirayaki, seasoned only with salt then charcoal-grilled. This one was done beautifully. Even I am impressed. I rarely get decent shirayaki unagi Kansai style in Singapore. The man wanted the liver (うなぎの肝焼き) and declared it delicious. He totally loved the unadon.

Depending on how much you can uhh stomach watching your still-alive food being sliced open with dripping blood and all, skewered and grilled, you might not want to sit at the counter. Eight seats right upfront. Kitchen prep and dining spaces are separated by a glass panel. It's a small restaurant that seats about 50 maybe, packing in diners like erm eels in containers. The containers that hold the eels are placed right by the entrance. We were right there when the staff came to scoop up a batch of eels into the tub and to the kitchen to be slaughtered belly-up. I literally saw my dinner alive, writhing. Oh man, that instant pang of guilt. 😞

Well, for many personal reasons that have nothing to do with the great food, this would be my first and last visit to the restaurant.

Man Man Unagi
1 Keong Saik Road #01-01 Singapore 089109
T: +65 6222 0678
(Its entrance is off the main Keong Saik Road and onto the small alley towards Duxton Plain Park.)
Hours: Mon to Sat- 11.30am - 3pm ; 6pm - 10.30pm ; closed on Sundays and public holidays.