Over Dim Sum & Pandan Cake

The year-end slow down in work trips and meetings resulted in many people calling for gatherings over drinks and meals. I rarely decline unless the date clashes with other plans. These invites have been whittled down over the years because I've said no to so many (peripheral ones) that they don't turn up in my inbox anymore. BEST. Invites that do stream in, are invites that matter.

One of these happened in the form of lunch with a bunch of ex-colleagues and celebrated a birthday. We missed two of them at this table. We'll have to fix up another date with them soon. I don't miss the work. I really miss them! Heh. We work well together, but for many reasons, our paths don't cross now, not in our current roles at work or in our private lives. We don't catch up one on one unless there's a strong reason to. Social media, however, is a boon to us in this aspect. I'd love to know that they're doing fine, healthy and managing okay on their respective paths of life.

I'm not usually this chirpy year-end or that keen to meet people for 'annual stuff'. But I'm in a much more relaxed mode these three months because this year, the organizers (for extended family gatherings) have thankfully freed me from a number of obligatory visits, it has put me in a much more cheerful mood this holiday season. The immense relief and freedom from these shackles do wonders for my mental health. There I said it.

The Boys Came Over For Tea

Ame and I fixed up a random coffee meet early in the morning, as well as an impromptu play-date for her nephews and Choya in the afternoon. All in a day! Sometimes I don't know whether one could call this a play-date. Choya doesn't know how to play with humans. She'll be curious about the guests and sniff them, then she'll move away for alone-time. She doesn't mind walks and running around though.

Ame was wondering if I'd be open to having the boys over so that they could meet Choya. Heh, why not?! As long they're not young toddlers who could hurt themselves against my stone walls, I'm happy to have them come help me train Choya. The dog welcomed us home with only three barks. Very well done. The boys had snacks and tea, lemonade and Yakult. They did pretty well with Choya. She took to them almost immediately. E was even brave enough to let Choya lick a dollop of nutri-plus gel off of his finger.

It was hilarious when a small bunch of flowers and a box of goodies arrived on my doorstep the next day, in time to brighten up the table for Thanksgiving dinner. I was like, WHO? WHAT? WHY?! Ame said that she noticed the wilting flowers in the jar, and she remembered that I bought them from the market 10 days ago. She said that her nephews wanted to get me something to say thank me for having them. Awwwwwww. It's definitely not the adults talking. E is very mature for his age (or are all 11-year-old boys like that these days) and he seemed to have enjoyed himself. They really didn't have to though. They already thanked me when we said bye at the carpark after walking Choya. Between Ame and the boys' parents, they definitely raised these boys right.

At Our Dining Table

We haven't seen K for ages. He's been out of the country so much. The stars aligned, and we fixed a dinner with K and A at home. We haven't had friends over for dinner for a bit. The crazy schedule meant that we have had no time to cook a decent meal for people. This time, the man was able to sort out dinner and he was sooooo excited about having K and A over.

The man decided to whip up an easy menu of vegetarian pasta, a side of mushrooms and for people who want meat, grass-fed beef. Gluten-free spaghetti tossed in brown-butter and miso and black garlic sauce, accompanied by a side of grilled zucchini drizzled with anchovies and chilli. We also grilled skewers of tandoori mushrooms with bell peppers. And seared a friendly flank steak.

Lots of gin and wine, and easy conversation flowed. We have all grown up, haven't we? The years melted away, and the bonds of friendship are renewed. We couldn't believe that it was time for the guests to head home. When you're having fun, five hours simply flew by. Let's not wait another ten years do this again.

A Bum Bag!

Walking Choya requires some items to be brought along. I have lightweight cotton totes to sling over the shoulder. They do the job fine. But as we move into monsoon season, I was hoping for a water-resistant hands-free bag. My current crossbody bags aren't exactly water-resistant, and the Freitag is too big. However, on some rainy days, a light raincoat with pockets is more practical. If it rains any heavier, the dog won't want to get out to be soaked anyway. Hahaha.

Found a hands-free option when I was randomly walking through the mall. I don't quite dig the color, but it isn't unoffensive. The Herschel hip pack seems practical. Haha, yes, however it's designed, it's called a 'fanny pack'. These bags are back in fashion now I suppose. I'm calling it 'bum bag'. Whatever it is called, it frees up my hands to control the leash, and it stays on my ass while I pick up poop and wipe the dog's butt. Then I don't have to contend with a swinging bag on my shoulder.

Packed stuff in for the evening walk when it was drizzling. The bum bag carries the poop bags and wipes fine, along with the phone and estate access card. It also fits a water bottle and a tiny collapsible bowl. Best. The man was ridiculously tickled and kept calling it a 'fanny pack', saying that he'd never carry one. Okay lor. I'm using it anyway. It's really practical. I only carry the bum bag when I'm walking the dog, i.e, I'd be in gym gear. That combination doesn't look that bad what.

A Quiet Night at Viio Gastropub

On a night when we had to pick up groceries and didn't feel like cooking or going to somewhere fancy, based on a tip from the friends, we stopped by Viio Gastropub on the ground floor of VIIO next to Zhongshan Mall. Perfect! Fairprice Finest next door met all our needs. The gastropub has been opened for a year now, and has quietly built up a little reputation for good beer and food at pocket-friendly prices, especially at lunch.

There's cosy indoor seating but indoors can be noisy, depending on your fellow diners or how much they've had to drink. We sat outdoors that night. The al fresco area was sheltered within the lobby of the building. It was a cool night, and a fan made the area even more comfortable. The choices of beers were more than sufficient for us. Rotating taps and a range of bottles. A Gweilo pale ale for me, and a seasonal stout from Heart of Darkness. We were pleasantly surprised by how decent the food was. Our red snapper paella and spaghettini aglio olio with prawns were rather delicious. Lots of garlic and spring onions. The pasta was topped with tobiko— I appreciated how the server helpfully pointed that out while asking about food allergies.

We actually got to dessert. I wasn't sure what the server meant when she said that they had dessert tonight that was 'yuzu gelato sorbet'. She didn't expain that it was two scoops of different things, and I didn't ask. It sounded fine. When dessert arrived, I laughed. It was one scoop of yuzu gelato, and a scoop of yuzu sorbet, topped with berries and cacao powder. Unbeatable combination.

Hello Bears!

I used to have stacks and stacks of National Geographic magazines that spilt out bookshelves and became makeshift tables, filling up every space in the bedroom. For many years, I had to give up the magazine subscription. Now, thank goodness for digital options. There're the free articles, but I also want to support National Geographic's writers and photographers. Without them, humans would be poorer when it comes to understanding our fellow inhabitants.

I like bears. No, I don't just mean the tiny cuddly cute stuffies and fluffies. I'm talking about the fierce snarling 3m-tall polar, grizzling and blacks. They're majestic and necessary to the eco-system. Unfortunately, they also need vast grazing space. Their range is enormous, and we have encroached on their homes. 

I don't think I can talk about endangered bears now. It's upsetting. No thanks to hunters. No matter how exhilarating a hunt is, it only serves selfish human desires. Very soon, the next few generations will see the extinction of many many species. On another note, this is about time that Japan's 400-year-old Bear Hunt tradition is undertaken in northern Tōhoku by Matagi hunters. They go after the severely endangered Japanese black bear. Apparently this is a deeply spiritual hunt that doesn't utilize guns. The Matagi hunters use exactly the same weapons used by their ancestors centuries ago. Some traditions can't be upkept in this world today. Because many hunters won't care about the old rituals and the old ways. Commercialization kills. Even killing one bear a year now is one too many.

Published in the December 2019 issue of National Geographic, Corey Arnold's story and photographs are arresting — he wrote about his experience in going along with two seasoned wildlife biologists to change batteries in the radio collar of a supposedly hibernating male black bear in Utah's Bryce Canyon National Park. It was a delightful little story.

The four-man team comprised Wes Larson and Jeff Larson, and Jordan. They set off to the mountains in February when it was miserable and ridiculously cold. It was a harrowing task, to say the least. A groggy bear is still a dangerous bear. And the team didn't want to let the bear out of the cave because they were concerned that half-sedated, it would fall to his death down the snowy canyon. The humans had to physically hold on to the bear's back paws to prevent it from moving fast away. And then, haul the 350-pound deadweight up the snowy embankment and back to its cave, before it woke. #winning

Thirty seconds later, they came flying backward out of the tunnel. The bear they’d collared a year and a half ago now weighed about 350 pounds—and he was awake. Wes had managed to jab him with the syringe, so we waited for the drug to take effect. When black bears hibernate, their breath slows and their body temperature drops by roughly 12 degrees Fahrenheit—low enough to cut their metabolic rate in half, but high enough for them to react to danger. Then, crawling on forearms and knees, I followed Wes, feeling only slightly more secure knowing that he’d be chomped before me if the bear charged. 

..................... 

The bear started crawling toward us until I was forced out of the den. We frantically blocked the exit with backpacks and sticks as Wes jabbed him again—but he powered through our barricade with groggy steps and began to crawl down the snowy slope. Jeff and Jordan lunged for his back paws, straining to hold on to him; Wes jumped on his back and grabbed his collar. 

The bear pulled them down the hillside and came to rest in the lower branches of a pine tree. The tranquilizer had kicked in—he was asleep. Wes and his brother changed out the radio collar and checked his health, but we had one more daunting task: getting a limp 350-pound bear up the snowy embankment and safely back to his den before he awoke. We pushed and pulled with every muscle. Before the sedative wore off, we succeeded. 

When spring came, signals from the bear’s new radio collar showed he’d resumed his everyday life—avoiding any more contact, we hope, with humans.

Paws & Furs 2019

Tanjong Pagar GRC incumbent Members of Parliament.

Decided to stop by Paws & Furs 2019. It was held at Tanglin Deck (beside Tanglin Regency condominium and across from the multi-storey HDB carpark at Block 129A Clarence Lane), which was small, but still conducive for humans and pets. Apparently Paws & Furs is an annual community event organized by the Tanjong Pagar GRC and Radin Mas SMC. Well, it obviously isn't of interest to us till this year. Heh. Although we don't live near Tanjong Pagar or River Valley now, we're still bounded within the Tanjong Pagar GRC,

It's not a closed-door event, but since it called for registration of humans and pets, we dutifully registered our attendance. To our surprise, we received a goodie bag sponsored by Pet Lovers Center. Inside held fish kibbles, some chicken terrine, a chicken jerky and the March issue of pets. Hmm... I'll just keep the magazine and pass on the food and treats. I was pleasantly surprised that that there was a buffet table of little snacks for pets! The snack cups held kibbles, meatballs and tiny chews—redeemable for registered pets with a blue coupon. Clearly you'd know whether your pets are allergic to it, and decide whether to feed them with it. I asked for a cup of meatball with beef and vegetables.  The kibbles were salmon. As expected, Choya picked out the meatball and kibbles to polish them off, but left the jerky, biscuits and dental chews. Hahaha.

There were of course many dogs, big and small. Birds (parrots and cockatoos mainly) and cats in bags and baskets went too. We saw a few cute rabbits sitting in bags as well. We went at 10am and left by 11am, so it wasn't that hot yet. The weather has cooled with the week's rains. There were some competitions going on- 'Best Dressed Pets', 'Pets Treasure Hunt', etc, along with a cheerleading demonstration from primary school kids. I didn't get the details because we didn't about those. We were there to see the booths/brands at the event and soak up the uhhh... barking, and importantly, socialize Choya to new smells, sights and sounds, and crowds.

LITHE 2019

Went to watch the eighth edition of 'liTHE', the annual showcase by T.H.E Second Company. It's not like I ardently follow the works of T.H.E Company. I go to their shows if the program is something I'm interested in and the performance dates match my schedule. I'm simply curious to know the state of dance in Singapore now, and how contemporary movements are being interpreted.

I cleverly searched for information to the choreographers and dancers for 'liTHE 2019' before going to the show. Sometimes, for contemporary dance performances, it's necessary to read up about it first. Contemporary dance interpretations can leave me with lots of head-scratching. The progam for the evening had three segments beginning with - 'This Is How We Meet/Part—Phase 3' choreographed by Marcus Foo, then 'Gaps' 《缺口 》choreographed by Goh Shou Yi, and ending with 'Quietly She Treads', choreographed by Anthea Seah. 

For 'This Is How We'll Meet/Part—Phase 3', Choreographer Marcus Foo had this to say, "Over the last three years I have been reflecting on the idea of human connection, in particular the nuances and complexities that occurs when meeting or parting." How we move along our respective life's paths, and whether we meet, walk together or split up, are all dependent on our choices.

'Gaps' by Goh Shou Yi summarized his journey in his practice and interaction with his dancers as "The gap between our thoughts. // The gap between our words. //  The gap between our bodies. // The gap between our worlds. // The gap between us." He made use of the rustling of plastic and costumes in this show to perhaps signify the noise and how busy we are in this world, and often, we allow to come between us in our relationships.

I thought that Anthea Seah's 'Quietly She Treads' was the strongest piece in tonight's performance. It could also be the most obscure. I enjoyed that very much. Her thoughts for her work are, "Fragile, // Malleable // Surely // Unfolding and un-creasing // Each facet grows loud"

I felt that all the dances could have done better with the music. That was very unremarkable and I wasn't taken by the compositions. As much as the music isn't the focus, and the choreographers want the movement to shine through, music is what highlights and brings out the nuances that the choreographers are trying to convey. In that sense, the lighting was more coherent, and the costumes were the best. Imho, the movements were rather conservative and a lot less experimental than it could have been.

Bubbly & Wine at Bar Cicheti

It's always a pleasure to indulge in an evening of wine and pasta. I can rarely go for long without my default carbs. Off we went to Bar Cicheti for dinner. The man had never been here, and I was eager to rectify his horrid food experience at Cicheti on Kandahar Street.

We ordered starters, so we didn't go crazy on the pasta. Just three modest starter portions sufficed. We made it to dessert. There was the burratina, which didn't have its flavors tweaked and remained average, but the cheese was pretty decent. Also had the appetizer of slow-braised Spanish octopus that was nicely spiced. Of course the man had to have the braised beef tongue with tuna salsa and onion marmalade.

Tried the ten-hour braised grass-fed beef cheek with agnolotti, fondo bruno and parmigiana. The little cute pockets of meat in a starter portion were more than sufficient for us to share. This was very manageable. Then came the tagliolini nero with Hokkaido scallops, Indonesian squid, Japanese uni, parsley and bisque reduction. I had to have the cacio e pepe. Hehehe.

The man was glad to have dinner and lights drinks before another 10pm conference call. He totally enjoyed Bar Cicheti. He definitely prefers this restaurant (location) and its kitchen to Cicheti's. It was perfect that L was able to come eat too. We've missed her and it was lovely to sit down to another unhurried dinner (that she didn't have to cook). Totally justified having a bottle of wine. Hahaha. A glass of easy bubbly was perfect to start the evening, followed by a bottle of barolo.

ウメダチーズラボ :: クッキー

When your friends know that the man's the dessert fiend, they still managed to find delicious cookies that I will eat. They came back from Osaka with packets of dorayaki and a gorgeous box of cream cheese and white chocolate cookies from Umeda Cheese Lab (ウメダチーズラボ、クッキー).

We opened it on the night when the man had a looooong 10pm call. (We had stayed in on this dreary rainy day and I rustled up easy tenggiri fish masala and dhal.) The man was still peckish and was happy to nibble on cookies. The shop claimed that they used gorgonzola and gouda for the filling. Those layers of cheese lent so much flavor to the white chocolate that only the savory hits me and not so much of the sweetness of white chocolate. OMG. THESE ARE AMAZING. I LIKE!

That napping dog, exhausted after a fun day at play school and didn't eat that much dinner, opened an eye when she heard the rustling of boxes and such. Then she got up proper when she smelt the cheese. She stared at us and our cookies. Nope. You ain't getting a bite of it. (She's not lactose intolerant and she can have bits of cheese as a treat, but not in this form.) She stared and followed me to the kitchen when I went to wash the plates, and stared some more. She doesn't come into the kitchen and lie down to wait with that look unless she wants food. Which is a rare occurence. Even during usual meal-times, if she isn't hungry, she wouldn't be doing her little 'I can't wait to eat' skips and hops. Fine, she got supper — not cheese — a wee portion of goat, salmon, egg and chicken giblets.

Goat Dum Biryani

The man is obviously on a biryani cooking streak. He did an old favorite—goat biryani. Well, it was mainly because he wanted to have Choya try goat meat (much healthier than her current lamb and way less fatty than minced meats), so he toddled down to Tekka Market to buy some, and at the same time, might as well stock up on spices and cook dinner for us too. The quantity would be sufficient for another two lunches!

For many reasons, I doubt we'll be eating at Swaadhist on Chandar Road for the next year too. We haven't bothered to find out where else serves up a decent goat biryani, so we'll do it at home. The Staub cast iron pot is sooo conducive to doing biryani. Goat isn't tough, and the marinade usually softens the meat so that cooking time isn't extended.

This batch of goat biryani was spectacular. Not too wet rice, not crazy sour from the lemon juice and yoghurt, and full of umami. The dog didn't seem to have an averse reaction to cooked goat. Froze some cubes to cook more for her next week. I'm more keen on eating goat than chicken. And never mutton. Always with potatoes. Heh. Biryani keeps really well in the fridge, and so does cooked goat meat. In fact, the goat biryani tasted fantastic the next day.

How Will This End For Hong Kong?

The developments at The Chinese University of Hong Kong and its surrounding train stations looked like a full-blown siege. The situation at Polytechnic University looked even worse. We only lacked the real guns. It doesn't sound like there's any space for negotiations. Both the police and the pro-democracy protestors are adopting a 'stand down or else' approach. I canceled a short vacation to Hong Kong this week. The going-ons of the anti-government protests are too unpredictable if I can't get around by car and train and the streets erupt in escalating violence every other hour, it isn't going to be much fun. Luckily for me, it's a flexible air ticket and I haven't bothered with booking accommodation simply because I knew there would be rooms at wherever. It isn't exactly a popular destination now.

There's plenty of political commentary and written opinions about hows and whys, China's next move, and comparisons with the situation in Hong Kong, and Singaporeans' thoughts. It's clear what the people of Hong Kong want, and it's even clearer what the incumbent government is able to give. Having this entire Cabinet step down isn't a solution; future governments won't be able to meet such demands or want to meet it. Above all, China will never permit said changes. Only a truly independent Hong Kong can quell the demonstrations and calm the protestors. It will never happen in our lifetime.

This article written by Andrew Jacobs left an impression- 'Behind Hong Kong’s Protesters, an Army of Volunteer Pastors, Doctors and Artists' published in The New York Times on 12 November 2019. I read this in NYT, but TODAYonline re-printed it too with no paywall. Last I understood, the police also arrested doctors, nurses and journalists, preventing them from rendering much needed first aid assistance to the injured, presumably the protestors. That is pure cruelty. PLA's 'out-of-uniform' soldiers to 'help' clean the roadblocks and clear obstacles so that residents could get through and resume some form of daily normalcy. That is a brilliant move from China, which is actually helpful, and stopped short of contravening HK's Basic Law. May Hong Kong sort out the chaos before China needs to send in uniformed and armed PLA soldiers.

Behind the scenes, this largely leaderless movement has been sustained by a vast network of ordinary people who hand out bottled water and red bean soup at marches, drive home stranded protesters late at night and donate the gas masks that fortify demonstrators during their pitched battles with police. Hong Kong professionals have been especially vital. 

Graphic artists create the eye-catching protest posters across the city. Psychologists provide free counseling to the emotionally distressed. And emergency room doctors, working in clandestine clinics, set shattered bones. 

One measure of community spirit can be heard many nights at 10 p.m., when residents in densely packed neighborhoods open their windows and shout protest slogans to the heavens. Another is expressed through the crowdfunding campaigns that have raised millions of dollars for medical treatment, legal defense funds and other expenses. 

“Without this public support, the movement would have lost steam a lot sooner,” said Victoria Hui, a political scientist at the University of Notre Dame and the author of a book about the Umbrella Movement, the 2014 pro-democracy protests that fizzled after 10 weeks. “It encourages young people to keep going, giving them the sense they are not alone and that what they are doing is righteous.”

I'm not even sure I like the liberal usage of the term 'protestors' in this context. It refers to anyone who's anti-incumbent government and all who disagree with the instructions of the Hong Kong Police and authorities. The connotation is, protestor = troublemaker = no good = bad person. REALLY?

Much has been discussed and debated about the protests in Hong Kong. I watched the news channels, read the official discourse, and checked in with the many friends who live in Hong Kong. If the anti-government protests and sit-ins are intended to be peaceful, somehow, violent elements and groups will disrupt that, and everything goes downhill. The core group of protestors are surprisingly (or not) young people and students, who put their lives in danger in clashes with the police for "greater democracy and an investigation into police conduct."

I don't quite care about the anti-government protests. It isn't my country, and we run a little differently here. If China interferes in Singapore, then I will care a lot more. But for now, I don't see Singaporeans and concerned long-term residents do what Hong Kongers do. Half of us won't even understand what fuels the protests and how it has only gained traction and not lose momentum. Our society is honestly, not at the level of political awareness Hong Kongers have. They are by no means naive. They know what they're in for, except no one can tell how it will end. It's almost as though Hong Kong society wants a revolution like.... I'm afraid to say it, so I won't. Thinking it is horrifying enough. Haven't we learnt something from all the revolutions that happened in the China, especially a certain protest in Tiananmen Square in 1989? There is much anger in the city to drive people to do this, and quietly help behind the scenes. Nobody seems to want to cave. It might be the last major protest Hong Kong will ever see.

“These young people are trying to right the wrongs that we have long been avoiding,” he said, referring to Beijing’s two-decade effort to chip away at the vaunted liberties that differentiate this former British colony from mainland China. “They are paying with their futures, risking the possibility of being locked up for years. We owe them.” 

The sense of public service has also mobilized dozens of doctors, nurses and medics. Much of their work takes place in secret. That is because all but the most grievously injured protesters avoid Hong Kong’s hospitals following the arrest in June of several people who had sought care for broken bones and blunt trauma. These days, the injured are sometimes treated at clandestine clinics that provide X-rays and rudimentary surgery. 

..................... 

Many of the group’s volunteers are retirees like Ah Lin He. A fiery, reed-thin woman, Ms. He, 68, was born in the Chinese city of Guangzhou and swam to Hong Kong in 1972 to escape the chaos of the Cultural Revolution. She doggy-paddled for 10 hours with five other people. Only three of them made it to shore. 

“I’ve seen the repression and madness that can be unleashed by the Communists in China,” she said as the group trudged to a protest that had turned violent.
Walking beside her was Joe Pao, a 29-year-old pastor, who joined the group after a brief stint as a protester. “I realized I could do something more useful than throwing bricks,” Pastor Pao said. 

He acknowledged that his role as a putative peacemaker was rarely gratifying. Most of his work involves urging the police to exercise restraint. “When they catch people, we tell them to please respect the powers they have and not abuse them,” he said. “The impact is definitely small.”

Choya Haz Presents!

O'maJ makes its own beef treats for visiting dogs and Choya gets to eat them at each visit. The lovely servers Angie and Xena always bother to come around, and Choya patiently waits for treats to be handed out. This girl doesn't bother much about treats; when she does, she's selective about the type of treats and who feeds her.

Choya also learnt to eat salmon here, when this was in its old location as Pasta J. Hahaha. She stole a few pieces of human-grade salmon off the floor and her poop for the next few days wasn't too affected by the olive oil, rosemary, thyme, salt and pepper. That made me realize that her stomach (her poop, really) is open to salmon and the associated benefits of salmon oil derived from searing the skin and fats. From then on, she has salmon weekly in her diet, and it's rotated with pollock.

The restaurant recently put up Choya's photo on the wall. I suppose the photos will rotate, but she gets the honor of being the first one up. It's such a sweet gesture. So I couldn't believe it when the ladies at O'maJ bought Choya birthday gifts. That is crazy! The girl's so spoilt each time she goes to the restaurant. Treats, ice cubes, rubs and hugs. I'm super grateful that the restaurant is so kind to her.

Choya now has a new heavy mainly white ceramic food bowl (which I will use soon), and a hip decorative wood block that I could place around the house. Very fun. The words on the wood block read, 'Live, Love, Bark'. Indeed. Except I'd rather Choya not bark too much and I definitely don't want her to scream. She doesn't do either very much lah. She only barks when she's startled, or when she's trying to warn me of strange happenings or being fierce and aggressive to other dogs. Heh. Perhaps hers could read 'Live, Love, Whistle'. The Shiba Inu whistle is hilarious. She whistles when she's anxious or when she's happy. Ooof.

Appreciating Urban Green Spaces

With a dog, I've been getting an incredible amount of exercise in. I feel better, sleep deeper and I move faster. Housework is a breeze because the effort and sweat are nowhere near the amount expended on a 40-minute walk. Well, there isn't much of a choice there. Choya toilets outdoors and needs the exercise too. I walk her minimally 40 minutes each time, twice a day. That gets cut down to 20 minutes if we run. Hahaha. Thank goodness she doesn't require as much exercise as working breeds. I think I'll keel over first.

On the average day when the humans are busy, the dog only gets a walk around the estate. She gets to pee and roll around on sad grass patches. There is a park nearby though, except it's under some sort of renovation and refurbishment right now and the space is halved. I've been looking at the ground loads and noticing just how dirty our pavements and grass patches. Cigarette butts, litter, sharp bits of glass, metal and plastic. UGH. Humans are very inconsiderate. Poor Choya's paws. This is why I insist on a foot bath of diluted povidone iodine for her after every walk. (I also bring along a bottle of water with me to dilute her pee.)

I've only just begun to appreciate our city's urban parks. They're actually clean. When we walk through parks that permit dogs, it's almost fun. Before having a dog, there has no reason to hang out there. As much as I love greens and blues, there isn't an impetus to visit our beaches and parks. It isn't chilling out when the moment I sit down, beads of perspiration roll down and swarms of mozzies attack. Sure, I go walking at MacRitchie and at the Bukit Timah trails. But I don't bother walking around Bishan Park, Punggol Park or even Botanics. TOO DAMN HOT. Now, I've to creatively find green spaces for Choya, and grow more accustomed to our searing humidity and heat.

Choya loves the parks. She loves trotting through and checking out the smells and the wider green space. If we go early enough, it isn't that hot. We tend to get out before it heats up at 9.30am. Say on a hot Saturday morning at Botanics, it feels a lot cooler running along the tree-lined paths. No tree in Singapore is allowed to grow wild. I always think that every tree is accounted for in this city. I'm not even sure we've got any real patches of forests left. Still, these intentional green spaces are way better than not having any. I take time to stop and breathe the air, and look up at huge banyan trees. It's a gorgeous view.

Tandoori Duck Hearts at Thevar!

Was pleased to see a slight change of menu at Thevar. The man and I love its flavors and how beautifully the kitchen make each dish new yet stay true to its spices. The chillies carry heat, and while everything is made elegant, nothing is dumbed down. The tiny narrow restaurant is perfect for a casual night out for us. Many nights we ask to sit at the bar counter. There isn't a difference at the tables since the restaurant's space constraint meant that seating is designed as small high tables and chairs. The only regular seats and table for six or eight are rather uncomfortable and sited outdoors on the narrow five-foot-way.

Gin always goes best with Indian food. I suppose you could do bubbly, but I prefer gin. Two glasses of gin are perfect for dinner. I do like its house mix of Thevar Fizz, just a gin and tonic with yuzu. I'm still supposed to watch my alcohol intake. So with gin, I would go slow to reduce the chances of a headache settling in. The second glass of gin is usually dessert too. This round, we were so stuffed that we weren't keen on dessert at all, no matter how cute they sounded. Heh.

Duck hearts.

I couldn't resist the tandoori duck heart with foie gras and pineapple chutney. I didn't ask for the foie gras to be removed. But the next round I will. I'm not keen on the taste that foie gras lend to the grilled hearts. Honestly, just the heart alone tasted superb. Wheeeee. Each serving held four hearts on two skewers. I ordered two servings. Oof. I can't resist hearts. Chicken hearts and duck hearts. YUMMY.

We also had sambar croquette with chilli and tomato raita, crunchy smoked eggplant pajeri, and mains of Sri Lankan crab curry rice and veal bone marrow murtabak. I didn't mind the crab curry rice, but because the crab meat was liberally mixed in, I had to take only two small bites. Currently battling allergic reactions and I shouldn't irritate them further with seafood and shellfish.

Indian grandmothers (and maybe some mothers) would likely roll their eyes at the small portion of veal bone marrow murtabak and chide us for paying S$35++ for it. Well, the portion came as four bite-sized pieces of thin murtabak. I dunno if S$35 for bone marrow is worth it, but it was really delicious! We giggled at the side of raita though. The cucumber raita was simple and satisfying, complementing the heavy murtabak perfectly. However, the raita's flavors were ridiculously familiar — they were exactly what we do at home! Down to the exact spices used and how thinly we sliced the cucumbers and chillies! Hurhuhur.

Said S$35 veal bone marrow murtabak.

柴犬はどこにでもあります！

Our friends have surreptitiously bought us many things in the images of a Shiba Inu. Walaoeh. 🙄 I already have to face one neurotic fusspot of a Shiba Inu daily; I don't want to have to see cutesy things everywhere at home! I don't even like cartoons very much. I certainly do not want my home to be plastered with cartoon characters and stuffed toys everywhere! Can we have elegant and practical designs rather than cutesy and not very useful?

I can live with small items, but I most definitely do not want cushions in the shape of fat Shiba or its head! It's like having Hello Kitty mocking me each time I look up and around! The man however, has no qualms plonking Shiba Inu stickers all over his laptop. Yeah, the one that he sometimes takes to the office. I think he even stuck them on his office pass and gym card. The man is definitely more enthusiastic about dogge memes and such, more than I am. N gave us a cup in the shape of Shiba. Luckily she didn't buy two cups. Whewwww. That be his cup to hold ice-cream for sure. It's a good size for two scoops of ice-cream. We don't have a proper bowl for ice-cream bowl at home.

Even the BFF got into the game. She bought me a pile of stickers the last time she went to Japan. The stickers are cute, but I have no idea when I will use any. I might stick two somewhere, but what am I going to do with the other 988 stickers? Stick them on the flap of envelopes to Christmas cards?

She's going to Tokyo again in a few weeks and I warned her NOT to buy me anything that isn't on my shopping list. She has already bought me a tote bag with a giant Hello Kitty there. She instructed me to make sure that it's used, and she wants a photo of it in use. What the. I bet you she'll turn up with a Shiba Inu tote bag of sorts very soon. What I didn't mind is, a subtle key holder made of rubber, for the only key I own- to the letterbox. Hahaha. On this key it stays; it's very useful.

I say it loudly ah. All of you, especially those people going in and out of Japan this winter season, don't you dare buy me Shiba collectibles and merchandise! They'll just become sad clutter. I dunno what to do with them! Can y'all just buy me shower gel and diffusers with reed sticks?! 😂 What I do want, are these legal tender banknotes that will circulate in Japan in 2024. Hurhurhur.

Cicheti and Bar Cicheti

Cicheti on Kandahar Street

Went to Cicheti for dinner and our table was terribly disappointed. The standards have plummeted since Bar Cicheti opened. The Napoletana pizza was sad. The base was dough-y and frankly disgusting. The first taste was simply tomatoes and dough. Even olives couldn't remove that lingering taste of flour. Never order those pizzas now. My linguine with nice big hobinosugai clams was way over-salted (this, coming from me who loves salt). At least it was done properly al dente. The friends' paccheri with pulled beef cheek and parpadelle with braised lamb sugo fared much better. Our starter of burratina with toasted pistachios, pesto and onion marmalade was good.

Cicheti failed in its pizza and didn't offer pasta at its previous standards. (Its pizzas are currently nowhere near the consistent standards of the ones at Luka or Pizza Trattoria Logic.) The pastas are the saddest. How could you over-salt it?! When pasta is supposed to be so simple, you do not make the mistake of adding a teaspoon of salt when it's supposed to be a sprinkle. When you cook pasta at a standard I can produce at home, I'm not inclined to return. The meal was so disappointing that we ditched dessert at the restaurant and went elsewhere. The redeeming factor—they carried decent beer. I don't know if they rotate it; currently it's Trouble Brewing's 'Stolen Boat' summer ale.

The not good Cicheti on Kandahar Street.

Bar Cicheti on Jiak Chuan Street

It's a restaurant I pop into often since this sister outlet of Cicheti opened in May 2019. I'm familiar with Bar Cicheti's menu and the slight variations in pastas trotted out on different days. I popped in for lunch at Bar Cicheti just two days after the sad dinner at Cicheti, and the difference in its pastas couldn't be more stark. The pasta menu at Bar Cicheti is wider, and even the wine list here offers better years from a larger range of wineries! The kitchen is definitely superior to Cicheti, which is odd. Why should there be such a jarring difference when both restaurants are under the same corporate branding with one group executive chef?

We decided to do starter portions of three pastas. Hahaha. Well, we love carbs and there was really no reason to restrict ourselves to a main portion each. Sharing three plates would allow us (two persons) to satisfy all pasta cravings! Didn't even need any meat in terms of beef or lamb. Taglierini with housemade tomato sauce, basil, chilli padi and stracciatella, casarecce cacio e pepe using Sarawak black pepper, fresh marjoram and parmigiana, and paccheri with slow cooked Spanish octopus, anchovies, capers, housemade tomato sauce and breadcrumbs.

We had the burratina too, and it was served a tad differently from Cicheti's; this held slightly less umami with the accompanying Greek olive oil, sea salt and burnt onion jam. We skipped dessert of course. The only sad thing about lunching here is that there aren't any good coffee places next door. We'd have to cross two streets to get there, and sometimes, weekday lunches don't allow the luxury of time.

The currently very good Bar Cicheti on Jiak Chuan Street.

I Don't Care To Have Suntory Time Again, But I Get It.

Of course I had to read Aaron Gilbreath's 23-minute 5939 words article published on Longreads for October 2019, 'Can We Ever Make It Suntory Time Again?' He laments about how much he loves Japanese whisky, and how he regrets not stocking up on those bottles that are now out of production and never to be seen again.

While I enjoy reading about Japanese whisky, and living through the boom times when the popularity of Japanese whisky exploded, I'm not a fan of Japanese whisky. Even the most peated ones are a little too sweet for me. Many Japanese companies own Scotland's whisky distilleries now. I'm just glad that they haven't interfered too much with the distinctive tastes produced by the different Scotch distilleries. Oddly, I still have few of those now-considered-rare bottles of Yamazaki and Nikka sitting on my shelves, remnants from long-ago gifts and purchases from some rather crazy nights drinking in Tokyo.

The limited availability of certain whiskies adds another layer of scarcity value; when distilleries close, their whisky becomes irreplaceable. No more of those Hanyus or Karuizawas will ever get made. No more versions of the early 1990s Hibiki, since Suntory changed the formula. For distilleries that still operate, their whisky is irreplaceable, too. The exact combination of wood, temperature, and age will never produce the same flavor twice. Even when made according to a formula, whisky is a distinct expression of time and place. The weather, the blender, the barley, the proximity to the sea, and of course, the barrels — sherry, port, or bourbon? — all impart a particular flavor along with the way blenders mix them.

I belong to the lucky generation — I had the chance to taste the good Scotch and Japanese whisky from the father's liquor cabinet, honing my tastebuds for my own tasting for a good decade before the whisky stocks run low and my desire for imbibition of fermented grain mash diminished. Those were very good years for whisky. I'm glad that in the process of discovering whisky and honing my palate for it, the liver and kidneys didn't suffer, and there aren't any lingering consequences.

Did I mention that the man and I acquired the Bowmore 1964 Trilogy (Black, White and Gold) a decade ago, and recently let it go slightly below market price? We've tasted a few bottles from the Trilogy. It didn't matter to us anymore whether we own it or if we'd taste them again. We were more insistent that the bottles went to a connoisseur who would appreciate it, and he mustn't be an asshole. Thankfully it's sold to someone who came across as one who is without much airs, efficient and prompt in our communications with him. In addition to having less inclination for whisky, I've also called time on my relationship with Bowmore because I realized that they'd hard-pressed to produce the expressions that I love. The distillery would need two or three more decades to even get those flavors again.

And maybe we should think less about what we missed and more about what is yet to come. In 2013 and 2014, Suntory expanded its distilling operations to increase production. It, Nikka, Kirin, and many smaller companies have laid down a lot of whisky, and when all that whisky has sufficiently aged there will be a lot of 10-to-15-year-old whiskies on the market — maybe as early as 2020 or 2021. “I always tell people not to worry about not being able to drink certain older whiskies that are no longer available,” Osaka bar owner Teruhiko Yamamoto told writer Brian Ashcraft. “Scotch whisky has a long tradition, but right now it feels like Japanese whisky is entering a brand new chapter. We’re seeing whisky history right before our eyes.”

Chicken Biryani at Home

The man didn't have to do a long-haul work trip, and I was really glad about that. I'm secretly grateful to his colleague who went on this trip instead, and took one for the team, so to speak. It's not as if I don't want the man to travel. I'm cool with it. But I quake if he has to be away for a month. Because of the dog, and my lack of a driving license. GrabPet and cabs have been rather disappointing.

With the close of the quarter for work accounts, the crazy peak has dipped and the man could breathe easier. It’s telling when he’s forced to skip two or three gym classes a week for three consecutive months to clear paperwork, and also skipped out on many dinners and could only go for drinks and quick burgers. His early morning and midnight calls, and the flood of urgent-due-yesterday emails decreased in intensity.

He found time to make an easy pot of non-chilli-spicy chicken biryani for dinner. Other than a sprinkle of chilli powder, he didn't even bother to use any actual chillies in there. It really wan't necessary. Biryani doesn't need to be chilli-spicy. He used skinless chicken thighs for the higher fat content and bones. Onions were sliced up for raita. Now, you could add green chillies or chilli padi to the raita. Very good. This dish can be replicated for friends who don't take chilli, but don't mind spices (not fiery-hot type), chicken and onions.

I'm not keen on the chicken, but I always go for the rice. And this version of biryani held cashews, raisins and pistachio nuts. He also seared potatoes in ghee. Mmm. A gorgeous combination. While I didn't mind the chicken within and how its marinade lent flavors to the rice, I didn't need to eat the meat per se. Just having the rice alone was absolutely satisfying. A perfect one-dish meal.

Peanut Balls & Rolling

I've been pulling out the massage balls and rollers to do myofascial release in order to ease out knots in the neck from poor sleeping posture over a few nights. That levator scapulae muscle is forever being irritated and inflamed.  The crazy thing is, you could injure it (get a stiff/frozen neck and shoulder) from simply carrying a heavy bag, or turning your head too rapidly. Grrrrr.

For the whole of last week, I had to lie on yoga block and balls to stretch out the strained bursa and a tendon in one rotator cuff. Luckily I didn't tear them. Because I climbed out of a narrow window to a 2.5-meter drop to the ground, and had to jump and do an awkward swing pull-up to haul myself in. Purely based on upper body strength. There was no ledge or support of any form for my feet because the glass panels extended all the way down. #winning I honestly wished I was a bona fide ninja warrior. At least I'm practicing for the zombie apocalypse, and have been doing rather spectacular 8-foot wall jumps. Crucial pull-ups in the real world are seriously draining.

Slapped on Biofreeze and laid flat on the floor to stretch it out a little to calm the initial sharp jolts of pain. There was limited mobility and I couldn't lift that arm. No strength in it either. Ugh. Luckily the injury happened at 7.30am, and there was a scheduled gyrotonic session at noon. I asked for help. Hahaha. The instructor took me through gentle movements to ease the rotator cuff. A combination of gyrotonic and pilates movements helped me heal. In two days, I had more mobility and could raise my arms, reach the shower head without grimacing too badly, and gingerly wear a sports bra. In four days, I was back at 100% strength. But I prudently laid off weights for the week.

I know many people cannot deal with gyrotonic and pilates because they find them boring and slow. But for me, I've been doing these movements and stretches for like two decades. I guarantee you that they built my core and maintained it, managed my mild scoliosis (at < 20degrees curvature, it responds best to exercise treatment), strengthened the muscles and had these muscles protect me from worse injuries. When injuries happen (and they will), I heal faster. As far possible, painkillers and surgery aren't my first options as treatment.

Egg Fried Rice + Pork Chop + Spicy Pork Rib Soup

The BFF found a break in her crazy travel schedule, and after a whole afternoon of revising for her Spanish exam, she came over for dinner and carried out her Godma duties to Choya. We didn't cook. Had a busy day and opted to do take-out. There're plenty of choices for food delivery services. We could simply schedule it for 6.45pm.

We tapau-ed food from Golden Mile Tower. The man had a craving for fried rice, and he specifically wanted the version from King of Fried Rice at the basement of Golden Mile Tower. Hahaha. He zoomed there at 5.15pm; he said it was more like 'king of long queues'. We usually ignore its mala and tom yum fried rice, and XO fried rice. Just go for the simplest egg version. That's the best. Egg fried rice and pork chop. A simple dish that is excellently cooked. Hit a spot for me that night. Honestly, that pork chop was fantastic.

Since we were three persons for dinner, and the BFF doesn't mind carbs at all, the man went next door to Leng Saap เล้งแซ่บ @ Rot Fai Market to get more food. He returned with single portions of som tam, spicy pork rib soup, prawn cakes and sautéed kangkong. All were pretty decent! The som tam was okay, not as horrible as I had expected. That prawn cake was thick and delicious! Went pretty well with fried rice.

I raised an eyebrow at the spicy pork rib soup. (ต้มเล้งหรือต้มแซ่บกระดูกหมู, or Chinese-Thai style 'tom saab leng'.) One portion meant for two persons came in two giant plastic bags- one held soup and the other held parts of the meat and spine. I didn't have bowls big enough for them. Had to put them in two cooking pots. It could feed four people! The crazy amount of coriander was sifted out when we ladled out the soup into smaller bowls. The spicy pork rib soup was good, but I feel that at this 'normal spicy', it was still too spicy. I love spices, and I love me a spicy clear tom yum soup, but for pork rib soup, this is just weird. I say this because the spice kills the taste of every other food, the good soup base, and my wine. Next time, I want it to have MINIMUM spices in this soup. Maybe the 'mild', or something lighter even.

The BFF rolled her eyes to high heaven when we put on 'Dolor y Gloria' (2019). Eh, since she doesn't have time to immerse herself in Spain for two weeks, we should encourage her to listen to more Spanish by way of... well, watching films. Netflix and Hulu FTW. Hahaha. Vamos chicos and vamanos aren't quite the same thing. Estudiar mucho, BFF. Esa es una buena chica! 

'The Far Side of the Moon' :: Ex Machina

Zipped out to a matinee show of celebrated Canadian auteur and thespian Robert Lepage's 'The Far Side of the Moon' (2000), presented by his theatre company Ex Machina, and in this performance helmed by just one actor, Yves Jacques. This play premiered in 2000 and Robert Lepage has restaged it, and it has begun touring internationally again.

The storyline goes with two estranged brothers Philippe and Andre cannot be more diametrically opposed in terms of confidence, outlook, opinions and values. The brothers come together to deal with the death of their mother, and examine their relationship. The underlying commentary flags the rivalry in the space race between the United States and Russia. In a review of the play at the Perth Festival 2018 by Brigid Delaney for The Guardian published in February 2018, she wrote,

The brothers’ struggles are essentially an allegory for the play’s overarching theme: the space race between the United States and Russia. Archival footage charts elements of the race. The networks eventually tire of showing it, but Philippe’s passion does not wane. In a flashback to his teenage years, one of the play’s more poignant moments, he takes LSD and lies on the Plains of Abraham – the plateau outside Quebec where the pivotal battle between British and French armies took place in 1759 – and stares at the moon, trying to see a Russian satellite.

The two-hour solo performance by the very talented and versatile 63-year-old Yves Jacques was boosted by multi-media, puppets, lighting and a plethora of props designed to bring out every character he played. This was theatre illusion at its best. The props that were meant to be tech gadgets were amusing — those gadgets used technology that seemed rather outdated today in 2019. The veteran actor has performed this play for over 370 times in 45 cities, backed by a skillful team of theatre technicians. It was obvious how awesome their partnership is. Everything ran on cue, and scenes blend seamlessly into one another.

It's a beautiful play about reconnecting even in the face of fierce rivalry. I was suitably mesmerized for more than half the performance. Well, the cynical part of me rolled eyes like crazy. Blood relations don’t make us kin. I'm not at a stage of my life where I understand how necessary reconnecting can be. For many people, it’s a type of emotional healing. I get it; it works for some, especially when they need closure, but it isn't for me.

Spaghetti & Meatballs

Spaghetti and meatballs are like this basic pasta dish that everyone loves. It's comforting, and tasty, provided you like tomato sauce and meats. Anybody can do this dish, but it's the way you do it that determines the awesomeness. The meats can be done in a ragoût, but meatballs are way cuter. This is a dish I can't do, and will not do well. Therefore, when L called for a casual pasta dinner, we were sooooo there. Apparently we couldn't contribute anything to this dinner, and for reals shamelessly turned up with only empty stomachs.

Good meatballs use a ratio of ground beef and pork to lend flavors, and that would make it not stink too much of either meat. I didn't ask what ratio of meats L used. I didn't need to know! They were delicious, and that was all that mattered. Whatever spices that went inside these gave them fantastic bite and flavors. I refused to take the last meatball in the communal serving tray. Hahaha. I went for the last scoop of spaghetti. Mmmmmm. Hey, I ain't gonna pass up on tasty carbs done this way! Never underestimate the effort that goes into prepping a superb one-dish meal.

SO MUCH SNACKS WERE TROTTED OUT AFTER DINNER. Popcorn, very sweet watermelon and mango, and two store-bought cakes that were surprisingly low on sugar. I was like, STAAAAAAAAOP. I was very happy with the savory for dinner, and wine for dessert. Hurhurhur. How do I put it? There wasn’t a special occasion (I think I shall take it as Thanksgiving, and a Christmas present); it was a get-together that could also have happened anywhere else. It’s a casual meal at home, and in that, the evening offered companionship and comfort food, and created valuable memories. When friends cook and have us come eat, and feed us wine and dessert, it's always a princely gift.

Completing Iditarod

I do okay in winter in the city or out in the countryside. I'm not keen on minus temperatures, but I'll live, especially when I have an insulated room to get back to with a warm bed and bathroom. But this girl from the tropics isn't hot about hiking in winter or trudging through miles of snow to get to somewhere scenic with more white and ice.

I certainly don't have it in me to train dogs and myself to last even a 100-mile sled race in the dead of winter, let alone complete the 1000-mile Iditarod. Reading writer and adventurer + dogsled racer Blair Braverman's account of training for Iditarod as a rookie in 2018 and then completing and coming in 36th in 2019 (52 mushers competed, and only 17 were women), her stories of #UglyDogs and her thoughts put a smile on my face. It wasn't just about racing. She was also raising money for school children in Alaska. She has put thought into training, shows genuine concern for her dogs, and considers all possibilities and plan ahead for race completion. I've gone on sleds pulled by dogs, and luckily for us, on this trip, we stayed with the family who own the dogs and sleds, and we could see for ourselves how the dogs were treated.

Published in Outside on April 24, 2019, 'Blair Braverman on the Iditarod, Fear, and Resilience', this was such a thrilling read. I'm comforted that in this account, from her Twitter and Instagram updates, her sled dogs seem well-treated, although she didn't mention injuries, rehabilitation or losses. Blair Braverman's lead dog Pepé is smart and strong, and has gone through the two Iditarods with her; all the dogs are now back home in northern Wisconsin. To feel free running wild on the trail in Alaska with your dogs on the sled. Wow.

Next came miles of bare tussocks that my lead girl, Pepe, loved and my knees hated. At the Iditarod checkpoint, an isolated ghost town that marks the race’s official halfway mark, warm weather had thawed the meat in my drop bags so we made do with kibble. This was the beginning of a hot-weather stretch of above-freezing temperatures that made the trail slushy and everything else wet. We spent 38 hours traveling up the frozen Yukon River in the rain, dodging pools of open water. We forded creeks that felt like rivers. We reached the bottom of endless hills, and I would lift my headlamp to see the trail markers, bright reflective specks, rising back up into the stars. I told myself constantly that the next checkpoint would be the finish line. All we needed to do was get there. After eating and resting, we didn’t keep going; we got up and started over. Our race ended and began a thousand times. 

In Shaktoolik, a village of 257 on the shore of the Bering Sea, I found an envelope that a friend—Chrissy, the cook at Alpine Creek Lodge, where my husband and I trained our dogs last winter—had tucked into my drop bag. “It doesn’t get easier,” she wrote. “You get stronger.” This struck me as the most profound thing I’d ever seen. Because I’d seen the dogs get stronger, day after day. Ever since we crossed the Alaska Range, they’d started getting a little less tired after each long run, a little more confident, a little bouncier. They were efficient. They developed incredible appetites, with each dog devouring up to three pounds of meat per meal. They rested when they could, napping at river crossings while I waded into the frigid water in search of the best place to ford, then got up quickly when it was time to go. They bonded as a team, trusting each other’s senses, sleeping in cozy piles with their heads on each other’s necks. I could see them growing, adapting, with each mile.

As an ideal, completing the Iditarod is totally a challenge for the musher/racer, and the dogs. It's billed as a race for elite athletes (humans and dogs). Nobody sane goes into this race untrained and emerge unscathed. I'd like to think that humans would place their dogs' interests above all else. However, this might not be the case anymore. (Also, horse racing.) In the race's 46-year history, the canine death count is chilling. The the annual 1000-mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race is tough and in all likelihood, cruel to the dogs. A race like this obviously has sponsors, along with lucrative prizes ($500,000 spread across the top 30 finishers), and its accompanying doping scandals in the name of winning.

In the recent years, Iditarod has been the focus of animal rights advocates. I watched 'Sled Dogs' (released 2016). It was a very sad documentary. The film produced by Fern Levitt flagged the abuse of sled dogs by mushers and handlers. Many puppies-in-training don't make it, and many trained dogs pulling sleds suffer horrific injuries. Ripped paws are the norm. To be very honest, I don't see a point to do Iditarod anymore if it means so many canine deaths and debilitating injuries. Not when dogs have to run 50km EVERY DAY to complete the 1000 miles within 8 to 15 days. That's crazy. It can be done, but we should ask ourselves, why? Why push our dogs along with us? What glory is there to seek?

Pasta Bar at Keong Saik Road

I've eaten a number of times at Pasta Bar, and am comfortable enough to term its pasta 'good'. Head Chef Alessandro Giustetti might not be always behind the bar, but his eye is on his team. There're 12 pasta items on the menu, and all the pasta is handmade daily. Took the man to Pasta Bar for dinner. It was his first visit and he loved the food. It's a small cute space with an open kitchen that's a little warm around the bar counter, but that's okay for us. Be warned, seating is around the bar on high chairs or at high tables. The regular table seats are very limited and you probably need to book quite a bit in advance to fit groups of six for easy conversation.

The man wanted to eat the beef tripe stew with potatoes, olives and herbs. He bravely chose the tagliatelle with the 24-hour beef ragu and parmigiano. I said 'bravely' because it's a heavy pasta, and very beefy. That ragu held shredded meat rather than minced/ground, lending it more bite. The man loved the restaurant's aged claypot negroni. As long as they have this, he can do without wine here. Hahaha. I decided to try its ciriole carbonara tonight. The server warned me that it would be 'savory'. I wasn't sure what they actually meant; I assumed it meant full flavored and rich, which would be fine by me. The carbonara was simply cooked with guanciale, egg, black pepper, and a mountain of pecorino, as it rightfully should be. It was delicious, BUT, I found the guanciale a little ermmm heavy, as in stinky-heavy. I no like that. Perhaps the 'savory' mentioned referred to this?

The portions of pasta are rather big for me. I need to be very hungry to finish it all. Most days I leave a quarter on the plate. Pasta Bar's sauces are robust and punchy, letting the full flavors of the meat shine through, so the pastas with meats somehow tend to be a little gamey. I don't quite fancy that. I prefer its vegetarian pastas to its meats. I think I shall have its vegetarian pastas from now on. I love the restaurant's take on rigatoni cacio e pepe. The vegetarian eggless lagane with just chickpeas, chilli and spicy garlic is superb.