年，終於過了。我還當真在這十五天都不出現在那一家吃飯。連出外吃頓飯我也拒絕了。不願意。我可不要又被坑。領教了一次已夠了。之前農曆年的東西你們說了算、我無話可說。回家私底下發牢騷後繼續演戲。今年抗疫制度實行你們竟然置之不理，我看不過去，也不能無視某事、避而不談。謊話說多了，你們自己當真，繼續自導自演吧。我站一旁看得很清楚。
之後的路怎麼走呢？就是保持距離，擺出禮貌，說些一般的客套話、維持那種彬彬有禮的關係咯。要我做什麼都是個‘不’。和人家的性格、價值觀、飲食習慣完全格格不入，沒有話題可談。連寒暄也省了。反正我也不擅長搞虛偽和做無謂的小動作。
很高興這農曆新年我一盤魚生也沒有撈到！ 農曆新年也沒有什麼刻意‘慶祝’。沒有邀請任何人到訪、我們只出外去餐廳和朋友家，搞些普通的小聚會。幸好有一群心同此理的知己，這農曆新年還算過得不錯。這年尾年頭，我們有太多太多的朋友太早逝世、心底很沈重。想念他們，更為他們感到深深的遺憾。這幾個小聚會裡的知音人有一天也會離去。生老病死是宿命。願咱們能有多幾年的歡笑陪伴。簡單的聚一聚談談心，就是福。
 |
| 那一疊A1 - A5 的日本和牛肉。我還真的不會欣賞。米酒我懂！ |
 |
| No plating efforts. Just utilitarian! |
Luckily we came in with no expectations. I've never eaten anything much here beyond its dumplings and noodles. The rest of the menu doesn't exactly appeal. The kitchen has indeed changed. Dunno if it's the humans or the recipes. But the food we ate today, which we've had long ago, no longer tasted similar or as good. The changes were most pronounced in their basic foods.
Their dumplings used to be good. But today, those dumplings were not great. Ordered two flavors — the prawn and pork, and the cabbage and pork. The dumpling skin was barely passable; the filling wasn't ideal. The filling was... MUSHY, and frankly, a tad stinky. What sort of pork have they been using?! Ugh. Well we hadn't turned up in a year. Many things would have changed, especially the kitchen situation. Obviously the standard of dumplings has slid. Or maybe it slid for the day or the week, depending on the chefs' roster.
The basket of xiao long bao (小笼包) was a fail; the skin was okay but the meat kinda stank. Their zha jiang mian (炸酱面) was damn weird — noodles were fine and springy, but the sauce wasn't quite right. Their scallion pancake (葱油饼) tough, chewy and cold, and was surprisingly lacking in salt! Like someone forgot about it! Lunch was a washout. But luckily we weren't too fussed about it, since the point was to run errands, and we got that done. We didn't plan for a big lunch. So these items sufficed to fill our tummies.
Choya's a champ with raw food. She loves it, and thank gawwd her digestive system could handle it. It's offal that her stomach cannot deal with, so I have to be super circumspect with including <10% in every meal. Venison and beef remain her favorite meats. She likes chicken feet and offal, but she isn't so fond of chicken breast. The meat I wanted her gut to get used to, is duck. She's had freeze-dried duck breast and offal, and loves it! But she hasn't had duck in the fresh form. It's a novel protein to her.
So I ordered a batch of duck breast meat, testicles, feet and hearts from BOM BOM BASIC. That's like a grocery store with top grade meats and cuts. I love how they seal the frozen meats and such. I only have an issue with their delivery days and timings which are completely unfriendly to my schedule. I had to make a special effort to stay in one night to take delivery of the frozen items. If you prefer their help to customize meals for your pets, then BOM BOM is the way to go. However, not all pets' digestive systems can deal with a raw diet. It might also not suit your lifestyle. Don't be swayed by raw feeders who could be super aggressive. Do your own extensive and thorough research, speak to your vet, observe your pet, and then make your decision and stand your ground. After that, keep reading up and doing research as your pets' gut flora shifts throughout their lives.
I was extremely cautious with the portions of organ meats and feet when prepping Choya's meals these few weeks. Introducing a new protein to her gut is a slow process that could take four weeks or more. I also don't feed her fully on one protein. There hasn't been a need to do any food elimination trials. Her meals are pretty mixed and balanced. For now, I only do duck for two non-consecutive days (two consecutive meals separated by two days in between) in a week. Also, I mix in other regular food to line the stomach, so to speak. This time, I made sure to feed her on the days that I'm at home and could catch her cues to go out for a poop run.
That day, I bravely did two consecutive meals of duck. Foot, breast meat and heart. The first meal was dinner, and she was fine through the night. The second meal was lunch at 1pm. At 4.30pm, she asked to go poop. She had minor low-volume diarrhea; nothing that I was worried about. It was just a one-off. I fed her exactly the same things that same night for dinner, but added psyllium husk and slippery elm. So I guess she shouldn't have two hearts in a row. Oops. It ought to be one heart over two meals. Her gut is intolerant of tripe, liver and such organ meats.
Whatever it is, three weeks into having duck in her digestive system, coupled with daily probiotics, and fibre blend that includes slippery elm and psyllium husky, Choya's gut flora is pretty much balanced. Duck is in her food roster now! The one-off poop and such isn't much to worry about, considering that she rolls around outdoors. As long as she isn't poisoned. To see my picky-about-food small-eater dog enjoying her meals is such a relief. On days she's had loads of exercise and activities, she comes to ask me for more food. I'm happy about that.
Finally stopped by Meatsmith at Little India for dinner. The man was rather upset that the Bombay butter and fresh herb naan came without dhal or curry, and no add-on options. I laughed so hard when it arrived at the table. It looked like... never mind. The only curry currently on the menu is a soft shell crab curry. Naaah. I had to remind the man that this isn't an Indian restaurant anyway, so maybe we were supposed to eat this naan like a rosemary focaccia. Hahaha.
The suckling pig biryani was delicious. Portions aren't too big, and while it was enough to share when the table has other dishes. The rice and spices were on point. I'm no expert on suckling pig, and I don't particularly take such of it. It seems okay. The biryani on the previous menu was crab biryani, and I wouldn't be able to taste that at all. This biryani still exists in a smaller sharing plate version for $14 as crab and tobiko biryani.
We had space for a portion of Madras fish kathi. It was quite cute. Like tacos. Hahahaha. Okay lah, it worked. The gravy was delicious, although they could have gone heavier on the spices. We had to remind ourselves that we weren't here for Indian food; if we were, we would have gone to other eateries in the area. Tehehehehe. Oddly we didn't go big on the smoked meats, which are the stars here. Skipped all the pork ribs, lamb and beef skewers, pork and beef cheeks, and even the brisket chapati. We were most interested in the Kerala beef short rib, but we had to shelf that for the next visit.
The man got to dessert. I took a spoonful. His choice of jackfruit pudding and coconut was rather lovely. It came topped with meringue. LOL My gripe- they flambé the meringue at the table, and also torched the husk at the same time, resulting in the bits smoking throughout dessert and after we called for the bill. Man, that smoke smelt like sickeningly sweet incense and made my eyes water.
Stieg Larsson died of a heart attack in 2004. Prior to finding posthumous fame as the author of the Millennium trilogy, he was an investigative journalist and was looking for clues to shield light on the unsolved February 1986 assassination of Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme who was gunned down in Stockholm while out walking with his wife. Jan Stocklassa was given access to Larsson's archives and files to the unsolved political assassination. He then tried to find more clues and establish connections to Larsson's theories to further progress the investigative efforts. (Reviews here, here and here.)
In Stieg Larsson's story about Olof Palme's assassination the antagonist had not been the murderer. Instead, Stieg was fighting something much more abstract, which I believed was the incompetence of the Swedish police. Stieg submitted multiple tips, and through a number of mistakes and bad decisions, they were never actually investigated. I did my best to move forward with Stieg's theory and also submitted concrete tips to the police, but more than three decades had elapsed since the assassination, and it seemed as if even a confession wasn't going to be enough to wrap up this investigation.
Piece by pice, I mentally reviewed what I now knew about Palme's assassination, based on Stieg's research and my own investigations, I was able to fill in holes with facts from other published materials, and for the gaps where there was nothing concrete, I added the guesses I personally considered most likely. A possible pictured emerged of how the assassination took place. If, that is, Stieg's theory was right.
I couldn't be less interested in Swedish politics. But I was keen on knowing about the Swedish far-right, and to take a look at police investigations, theories and what research has yielded. The extreme far-right movement in any country or city interests and horrifies me. It's not just the idea of white-supremacy. It's the whole movement of beliefs and notions so alien to my own that is fascinating.
The theories read like a Stieg Larsson thriller — Iranian arms deals, American intelligence, South African apartheid supporters and disrupters, middlemen agents, etc. Everything is murky, complete with a wrong conviction that identified the wrong assassin, and a lot was hinted about the incompetence of the Swedish police and its security forces for not being tenacious enough to solve the murder because of its political consequences. Olof Palme's wife Lisbeth Palme was injured in the episode, but not severely, seemed to have identified the wrong assassin that night. A trained child psychologist, she then went on to champion children's charities and causes, led the Swedish committee for UNICEF, until her death in 2018 at 87 years old. asklfjasl kjfaslf jaslfjaslfkjasf
This is by no means a fun book to read. It’s interesting only to readers who has an interest in these cases. The author believed that the mystery will be solved within two years of the publication of this book, perhaps by early 2021. In June 2020, he suggested that police had received new evidence and the new prosecutor will release those findings soon.
In the book's Epilogue dated 'Stockholm, 2019', Jan Stocklassa wrote,
More than a year has passed since the concert in Prague. I turned in my tip to the Palme investigation team. They have learned that the revolver might be in Jakob Thedelin's possession. The police also know that they have free access to everything in Stieg's archive and in my own research whenever they want it.
A few months ago, Jakob Thedelin was once again taken in for questioning by the police, more than three decades since the last time he was interrogated. The police continue to map his whereabouts and actions that late night of February 28, 1986. They are intensively investigating the possible involvement of South African security services and its agent Bertil Wedin. Unlike on Ölvebro and Danielsson's infamous trip to South Africa in 1996, their interest is real this time.
Happiness is when the girlfriend already saw my face during the birthday week, and still wanted to buy me lunch after. Hurhurhur. I greedily accepted, of course! Love this girlfriend's wit and insights; her words always keeps me sane, helping me keep my temper in check. Her company is always such a pleasure to soak up.
Stopped by a quiet Burlamacco Ristorante for a late lunch, and a super decent meal. Didn't want to think very hard — simply chose items from their set lunch offerings. A lunch of mushroom soup and torchetti pasta with smoked pancetta in tomato sauce filled me up nicely. Since this restaurant never offers tap water and makes you pay S$9++ for a 750ml of still or sparkling water, I decided to go with a glass of prosecco, and a cute San Pellegrino sparkling blood orange. I couldn't resist having the latter, especially with loads of ice cubes.
To be honest, having either soup and bread or a pasta would suffice. To have both together was rather filling. Luckily I had two workouts before that- krav maga and pilates, and no big dinner planned, so I arrived at lunch rather hungry. I merrily ate up most of the food. Yayyyyy. It was ideal that the set lunch option of dessert permitted a choice of coffee or tea. That was much appreciated. I don't particularly fancy dessert since I've already gotten plenty of sugar from food and drinks. A shot of decent caffeine was more soothing than another sugar bomb.
The giving of ang pows is both an art and the most irritating practice in all of the Chinese traditions. I honestly don't care about it very much. Social norms and etiquette dictate that I fulfill something if my finances allow for this indulgence. Sometimes, people are 'nice' and I feel like I ought to do something during one of the major festivals in Singapore and put that 'Chinese privilege' to some use.
I find it a conspiracy to dictate married couples having to give ang pows to people who aren't. Even if they're relatives and it's 'family tradition' to do so. It's just social pressure for you to have kids so you 'earn' back the ang pows from those who also have an equally big brood. Ang pow amounts are also calculated like this, for fairness and so as 'not to lose out'. It's damn silly, stupid and awkward. It's an utter waste of money too. I've never done this deed to embarrass any of my unmarried friends because the state of marriage or otherwise in any of their relationships doesn't bother me.
So I usually give ang pows (containing recycled notes deemed 'new-enough') to:
I don't care about what they think of me if I don't give out any. The one time I prepped a $250 birthday pack of presents for a first cousin once removed (a toddler), and I was primly told that presents weren’t enough, and I should give an ang pow on top of those because 'they threw a party and would have incurred expenses and we should cover their cost since we were invited'. HELLO, DID I ASK TO BE INVITED? I've never given any presents to said child ever since or attended any more of this party nonsense. It's not about holding grudges, it's about using these incidents for future reference. And remind myself that YOUR VALUES AREN'T MINE, AND THAT'S OKAY. I DON’T EXIST TO FULFIL YOUR EXPECTATIONS. I DON’T NEED TO MAKE MYSELF UNHAPPY TO MAKE YOU HAPPY. I DON'T NEED TO REACH YOUR HIGH STANDARDS OF BEING LABELED AS 'THOUGHTFUL' AND 'GENEROUS'. AND I’M STILL A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING.
Of course this year, on the first day of Lunar New Year, some willful hosts were deliberately evasive to our direct questions on number of visitors and intended time of gatherings, and sabo-ed us. Thanks, family. With that stunt pulled, I obviously wasn't prepped to give anyone an ang pow. I certainly don't carry extras around, not even on Day 1. What am I? The God of Fortune? TOO BAD. NO ANG POWS FOR Y'ALL. It's unorthodox, but it works for my mental well-being. Yeah, I'm still peeved, even after Ash Wednesday's reflections.
All helpful articles suggested 'hierarchy' as the guide to the amount to give. And the articles almost always mention giving out new notes, going digital and prepping extra unexpected ang pows. I know how much money I want to pack into each red packet, and their intended recipients. But I still take a look at what the 'recommended rates' are, and have a laugh, and gauge my decisions accordingly. On a personal note, I really cannot give out $2 ang pows. I might as well don't give! (Haha I really don't- I don't give for the sake of giving.)
 |
| Source: DBS's 'Your Essential Ang Bao Guide for Chinese New Year 2021', published on 19 January 2021. |
To be honest, the quality of the meat is fabulous. But the grilling and marinade would be entirely dependent on who's your chef that night. You wouldn't know. I've had yakitori that were way too salty or drowned (literally dripping with sauce). On other nights, it's as dependable as I expected. Tonight was a good night. LOL
Since I already popped an antihistamine, I also took a few pieces of chicken thigh. Just for a bit of meat, in case the stomach protested at too much offal. The man does like chicken when it's done right. So he went to town with the yakitori. Gizzards, liver, breast, cockscomb, et cetera. He also went for broke and ordered a bowl of oden and a oyakudon. Okay lor. I don't mind the soup in the oden. The man really loves a good oyakudon, and it isn't easy to find one that offers a decent dashi and doesn't turn out too sweet.
I love chicken hearts. I love them whole or half (as maruhatsu, or hatsu on the menu). The man was bemused. He knew that a giant batch of chicken and duck hearts were delivered for Choya, but those were of excellent quality for her to eat raw. That meant we could eat it too. Hahahha. No. I'm not stealing the dog's food, and I don't want to grill hearts at home. Lazy lah. I savored every bite of the meat off the skewer. What a treat! 焼き鳥の心とご飯が美味しい!
We usually either catch the low tide or high tide when we go. Or we turn up at 7am when the park opens. This time, we wanted to catch the high tide that was scheduled to roll in at 11.30am. Decided to park at Kranji Way entrance since that carpark was bigger. Neo Tiew Crescent's small carpark was full and nothing moved. Parking at Kranji Way entrance was easy because when we got there, the morning crowd was leaving, and many carpark lots opened up.
There were plenty of signs warning visitors about crocodiles. I was tickled by just how many signs were put up. Crocodiles don't get as good PR as otters. I doubt visitors would clamor to see them. But yeah, some people might topple over into the crocodiles' domain, and it's all over for the humans. Well, we didn't see any crocodile. It wouldn't be easy to catch a crocodile unless we get lucky. Or we get a float of them swimming over from the Strait of Johor.
I laughed when a few sites used 'trek' to describe Sungei Buloh's boardwalk and paths. Please, it's such a sanitized walk that you might not even need to wear track shoes if you prefer a pair of sturdy sandals instead. The trails are short and easy. I also didn't put on mozzie repellent. LOL At this time today, Sungei Buloh didn't even have mozzies bothering us. There were more than enough humans to feed off of, and it was too hot for them at the time we were there. Hurhurhur.
The wonderful news is, the government is taking steps to protect this area. They'll be creating a Sungei Buloh Nature Park Network. The current 202-hectare Sungei Buloh Wetland Reserve will be joined to the Kranji Marshes, the Mandai Mangrove and Mudflat Nature Park, and the Lim Chu Kang Nature Park (where Cashin House is, and will be restored as a visitor center and exhibition space) by the first quarter of 2022. This brings us to a new area total of 400 hectares of gorgeous nature to experience. I'm excited about it!
When the man asked me what I would like for my birthday meal (which doesn't have to be celebrated on the 9th itself), I picked Kamoshita (カモシタ、三好シェフそして貝山シェフの店). The food that appeals most is comfort food at a casual restaurant. Of course I would have to stop by Kamoshita for a cup of good sake and to get my fix of sea bream claypot rice! The restaurant offers boutique and really good sake. Picked a bottle from Saiya Shuzoten (齋彌酒造店). This sake brewery in Ishiwaki, Akita Prefecture is likely my all-time favorite. I love all their expressions.
We ordered in moderation this time. Over-eating is just not ideal for our stomachs! I just wanted the restaurant's homemade cold tofu with nori no tsukudani (海苔の佃煮), and a sweet cold Momotaro tomato. Stayed away from oden except for a slice of daikon that the man really loves. He went for the karaage too. He excitedly talked about food in the episodes he watched of 'Izakaya Bottakuri' 『居酒屋ぼったくり』. Hahaha. I haven't watched it on Netflix, but I've read the manga.
I gave all stomach space to the carbs in the sea bream claypot rice (tai-meshi, 鯛めし). And we still had leftovers in a box to take home. Oof. The iteration of this rice was still gorgeous, but a tad saltier, and the kitchen neatened up the presentation with finely chopped spring onions and coriander. Hurhurhur. The rice grains and fish were still fine and perfectly cooked. Savored every bit, and poured in dashi at the end to turn it into chazuke. No dessert was needed. We still had sake left to finish up as a lovely end to the meal.
For a while now, I have been following Swedish artist Lap-See Lam’s work. She explores the Cantonese diaspora in Sweden through multimedia, using 3D scanning, VR and animation to capture pieces of disappearing Chinese restaurants in Stockholm. She questions the relationship we have with time and space, and memories of physical venues.
Many years ago, I was intrigued by Lap-See Lam’s creative project titled ‘Mother Tongue’ (2017). It began life as an interactive smartphone app modeled after those virtual/digital tours. Visitors to the show could sit around a Chinese dining table, part of the set, put on VR goggles to take a tour. Viewers are transported into Chinese restaurants which have fantastical hyperrealistic interiors. The Chinese restaurant itself is the narrator, a female. There're subtitles, but the voice uses vocabulary and phrases from a mixture of Swedish and Cantonese. I love it! To me, it's hilarious, because I understand Cantonese, and I could vaguely make out the Swedish since it is rather similar to Norwegian which I haven't entirely lost.
It’s fascinating to read about what Chinese restaurants mean to the diaspora, and how many of these restaurants were owned by Cantonese-speaking folks churning out familiar-to-me foods. It is no longer like this now. A new generation of Chinese migrants opening up restaurants and cooking have redefined ‘Chinese’ menus in cities outside of China. Every continent’s Chinese restaurants trot out different foods. Hotpot is ubiquitous. However, American Chinese food (died laughing when I realized what the heck ‘moo goo gai pan’ is. 蘑菇雞片 in a pan lah) isn’t anything like Swedish Chinese food. Care for a Swedish smoked salmon wrapped in a Chinese bun (mantou)? Anyone?
Eva Heisler’s interview of Lap-See Lam for Asymptote noted that,
Mother’s Tongue has several iterations, and the same 3D scans of Chinese restaurants used as a source for Mother’s Tongue have been reworked in other creative projects. The recent 2020 exhibition Phantom Banquet at Galerie Nordenhake, Stockholm, included an immersive virtual reality work as well as sculptural objects. The objects—archeological, speculative—are ghostly fragments of Chinese restaurant décor assembled from 3D scans using a process similar to archeological and forensic reconstructions.
The artist explained how the sale of her 36-year-old family restaurant in 2014 pushed her to document the space she was so familiar with, only to have the new proprietor decline. So she was inspired to find other similar restaurants in the city to document. She began this project with fellow artist and friend Wingyee Wu.
Mother’s Tongue is not only a fantastical hyper-real journey through Chinese restaurant spaces, but it is also a fictional narrative told in the voice of the Chinese restaurant. Where did this voice come from? Is it at all autobiographical, based on your family? Or did you conduct interviews with restaurant owners?
The story is divided into three chapters set in the past, present, and future through fictional monologues led by three generations of women. All three women reflect on someone who’s in some way “foreign” to them. In “Peach Tongue” (set in 1978), a daughter reflects on the relationship with her mother; in “Miss China” (set in 2018), a former Cantonese restaurant proprietor talks about the restaurant’s new proprietor, a mainland Chinese woman; and in “Cyborg World” (set in 2058), a grandmother records a voice message to her possible future grandchild. These stories are not only about the history of Chinese restaurants in Sweden, but also stories about human relations, community, language, othering, and mortality. We created these characters so, no, they’re not autobiographical nor based entirely on my family. The idea of using the restaurant’s own voice came from a need to problematize ideas of representation.
The artist had a solo exhibition at Galerie Nordenhake in Stockholm last June themed and titled ‘Phantom Banquet’ (2020). She has a major solo upcoming exhibition in mid-January 2022 at contemporary art museum Bonniers Konsthall in Stockholm. With all these global lockdowns, may that open as scheduled. Sweden is still holding out with no official lockdowns, although they’ve finally passed an emergency lockdown law last month. It’s a pity that I’m likely not going to be able to travel and see this show IRL.
Instead of a slab of cake, she gave me a whole cake. Wow. It was bulky and heavy, and only good friends could get away with giving me this kind of gift. Hahahah. It was such a pleasant surprise. It was nice because I didn't have plans to head out after I met her. She made sure to check on that. Heh.
The pumpkin cake was filled with bits of lupcheong, loads of preserved radish and spring onions. OMG. MY FAVORITE THINGS. The sheer amount of chye poh and spring onions was incredible. One will really have to like those to like this cake. It's similar to a Cantonese turnip cake (蘿蔔糕), but with more add-ons. I suppose this isn't exactly dessert. It's more dim sum huh? It is my kind of dessert though. Too funny. She might have given me my one and only birthday 'cake' for the year!
原本對農曆新年沒什麼好感，現在更覺得噁心。想說細節，但被拘束。又無法憋著。只能在這裡發發牢騷。原想以泰文寫，就誰也不知道我到底是在怨什麼。唉。偽君子和蓄意違例之人、可惡。假惺惺與強詞奪理之人，可憎。蓄意違例、無情可談。故意坑我、卑鄙。我會用自己的方式處理。以後再也不會上當了。
初一的亮點是早上和朋友狗狗們晨運和晚上到另外一群好友家吃晚餐。早上狗狗們在海邊瘋狂的跑啊跑啊，享受海風、陽光和燦爛的每一刻。小狗開心、主人也開懷。狗狗的世界很單純，對主人沒什麼特別艱難要求，很直爽。能給狗狗幸福，也算是我人生中的小小成就吧。
晚上，到好友的餐桌吃頓安神的家常便飯，繃得緊緊的心，鬆懈了。菜單上竟然有兩種主菜可選。有日式烤牛肉飯和豬肉絲豬腳米線。麵線可選擇吃碗乾的或加湯。我選擇米線湯。湯裡還有白菜白蘿蔔。吃牛肉飯的當然還有一樣的湯喝。朋友還笑說我一肚子氣還喝湯，不怕肚子漲嗎？不怕！微甜微鹹的濃湯底。啊...... 這湯還熬的真細心。我很感激。很慶幸我還有這些友誼圈子給我安全感。參與遵守和尊重防疫措施的聚會是件開心事、至少不會給我一肚子悶氣。
今年能我行我素，太開心了。謝謝你啊防疫安全距離措施！年味淡嗎？我無所謂。我不在乎一年被逼見一次的‘親戚’。你對我一無所知，我對你更是不聞不問。我重視的，是已在心裡的那些、整年都有聯絡和歡笑，感情深厚、可靠的至親。
今年年夜飯和 BFF 一起 吃。十多年來，這也是她第一年在新加坡過農曆年。Choya 也很辛運，去年有好多機會和契媽接觸。吃什麼根本不重要。只要餐館菜單不隨便起價，食物和招待還可以，我們沒什麼投訴的。重要的是我們重視的親人在身邊、他們也不介意在此，那就足夠了。好久好久都沒這種感覺了。送鼠年三十晚這年夜飯，我吃得津津有味。
I haven't dined at Miraku for a long time, so I was pleased to be here again. Opted for the S$88++ omakase lunch set. 11 pieces of nigiri sushi was more than sufficient to fill the stomach space at lunch. There'll be standard fish, and it also depends on what is in season. Chef Hei preps his sushi with loads of variations; they're such tasty little morsels. In addition, there were an anago temaki and a small ball of uni-ikura rice, and a substantial dessert platter to end the meal with. If you're still hungry, they offer add-ons of negitoro-don or some ikura-uni-don. But that will be a lot of rice, and I definitely don't want to fall into a food coma.
Chef Hei's local take on sushi is fun. I enjoy his creations, which are significantly different from the older generation of local sushi chefs. He has improved tons since the first few times I went when he first opened Miraku. Today, he checked in with us on our allergies and accommodated our requests — mine for no scallop or prawns (i.e no shellfish), and J's for no beef in her portions. He swopped out our food items accordingly, and the replacement items were creative and still tasted great.
I was very impressed by the chawanmushi. It was a soft melty cup that held onions for mine, and scallops for J. The botan ebi head in the soup became a fish paste ball in mine; and the final item of beef-wrapped uni rice became a wide piece of tuna for J. Nice! Next time when I visit, I might request for no tuna either. LOL I would happily eat all the shiny fish that he has in stock, or whatever he can prepare.
I already had sugar in the form of all the sushi rice, and a glass of umeshu. But I ate everything on the dessert platter. I was just rather pleased that it wasn't mochi. Hahaha. The platter held small and cute portions of satsuma mandarin, tsubu-an, yubari and genmaicha ice-cream. What a lovely luncheon!
It was such a thrill to catch up with Y, Missy and V over non-alcoholic drinks. I was so touched that they made time to mark my birthday. They prepped presents for me too, at this ripe old age of 43. Hahahaha. I love it! Presents are awesome when they're given by gorgeous friends who know exactly what to get. My gratitude actually lasts for a long time, and I often am stunned into silence without knowing how to express it beyond words on a text message. How do I reciprocate and how would I ever match up to these heartfelt gifts!
My friends are talented. They really could do hand-made things. Bake, cook, sew, draw, create, and et cetera. I don't have the skills at all. Missy made a card for me, and strung cable holders from Oh Little Envelope to jazz it up. Handmade cards are always appreciated. Y made me another very special, very precious MissyMessy (the label is now commercially closed) blouse. I couldn't believe she went through all that trouble to do one. To get the fabrics, to get the design and cut right, and then zip it out on the sewing machine. 🤍💙
Months ago, I had shamelessly asked V for a loaf of bread as a birthday gift. She had been secretly honing her bread-making skills in 2020. She found the perfect recipe for a loaf that isn't a sourdough, and meets her tastebuds and her husband's. I most certainly am not asking for the recipe, because, hellooo, baking, naaah.
V really indulged me with a gift of a loaf of freshly baked bread. As it was, on the day I received the bread, the man and I made no plans that night. Once I got home to slice up the bread to keep in the fridge, I slathered some butter on a small piece to taste. I was like, WOW. Then I gave a small bit to the man too. We were like, "Okay, this is too good. We're eating in." So we picked up a bouillabaisse for the man, and a chunky mushroom soup for me. Carbs were the bread. We demolished the entire loaf. Hahahah. That was such a satisfying dinner. 🤎❤️
My jaw dropped. All those months of recall training. This was the first time it actually succeeded in open ground, albeit unplanned. LOL We've always worked on recall in an empty dog park or fenced-off basketball court, etc. The goal is not to let her off the leash regularly. The goal is to have a successful recall during an unexpected... event. She's a Shiba-ken. She still wasn't going to obediently trot to my feet and lie down. She ran close and slowed down enough for us to grab her leash. Then she promptly laid down panting heavily, and asked to drink water.
Is this luck or fortuitous timing accumulated from months of training and bonding with my silly Shiba-ken? I won’t speculate. I never attach superstitious actions to the absurd notion of ‘luck’ or ‘for luck’. Lady Luck is capricious. Sorry fengshui and random traditions, you’re not for me. I’ll take my chances with God’s plans and await His timings. I prefer to pray for wisdom and guidance, and I attribute wishes to that. If wishes were granted, I’d first check if it wasn’t Lucifer playing tricks.
But on birthdays, perhaps wishes are more powerful. If I get a birthday wish that might come true, then as I sat in quietude and reflection at dawn today, I wished — may this wish and prayer be whispered out in ripples to reach loved ones. May this wish be for the friends and faeriefolk: To protect and nourish your mind and soul; stay sane and be well, so that I might lurk in your lives and pester the toenails out of you for another shitty year.
Today I turn 43. I celebrate by wearing Hello Kitty face masks for the whole week. Hahaha. Well, I bought a box of 30 pieces to share with some equally silly and fun girlfriends. I arbitrarily assumed that the masks would fit them. (The height of chin to nose bridge is 13cm; the width of chin to edge of ear is 11cm.) I only need eight pieces right? Plenty to go around. Hurhurhur.
I am relieved that the writer's dog Chloe survived the attack, and felt sad for the attacker Jasper who gave in to his instincts, and for his humans who didn't leash him in spite of his history. Or fence up their compound. (That's a whole other story about securing permits from the building authority and your neighbors to build add-ons to your property in America and Europe.)
The woman fought hopelessly to gain control over Jasper. As she grasped at his collar, he bit her hard.
On our walks we see all sorts of dogs, and owners. There are the off-leash dogs who come bounding toward me. The owner is always nearby, assuring me their pet is friendly. This drives me crazy. These people are taking a huge risk, blindly betting their dog will mix with mine.
Then there are dogs like Jasper, dangerous and often roaming around alone. After Chloe’s first brush with Jasper I bought pepper spray. But when he came for her this time, I wasn’t carrying it.
In the days after the attack I heard from friends who felt that Jasper’s being a pit bull was to blame. I fault only the owners, who failed to leash Jasper. After Chloe was attacked I watched “The Champions,” a documentary about the fate of the pit bulls abused by Michael Vick, the professional football player who served time in federal prison for operating an illegal dogfighting operation. Dozens of pit bulls were seized and rehomed. The movie is a testament to the idea that many dogs, regardless of breed or the conditions they were raised in, can be rehabilitated with proper attention, training and love.
In the right home, with informed, responsible owners, even Jasper could have had a safe, happy life. But in that home, on that morning, he was only dangerous.
While I emphasize on training and matching the right dog to the appropriate family with the right attitude, I'm also glad for Singapore's laws on dog ownership. We're improving on regulating breeders and responsibilities of dog owners to hopefully decrease percentage of abandonment of pets in the country. We also ban certain dog breeds and require dogs to be leashed at all times in public, and some breeds are required to be muzzled at all times in public too. I rarely let Choya off the leash in public. Well, we've got a lot of work to do on her recall. Hahaha.
When out on walks, I'm quite frightened of unleashed small dogs charging at humans or other dogs. This isn't at school or at the dog parks. The other leashed dogs knew their expected behavior on walks. Faced with a charging dog, even the trained dogs wouldn't know what to expect, and would always react defensively to an invader. You can't fault the canines for that. An unleashed chihuahua, can cause fairly deep puncture wounds in your calves and ankles, or nick an artery in your dog's hock and thighs. Your cute and maybe well-behaved dog at home, isn't so cute when dealing with strangers and other dogs.
And, I wouldn't hesitate to kick a dog that I perceive to be attacking mine. I'm not going to wait for blood to be drawn before acting. Choya is small and I could always carry her up to safety. I mind being bitten, but I would hate for my dog to be injured. If I am bitten, I'd love to settle the score with the attacker's owner. It all depends on the owner's attitude. At the end of the day, the dogs are innocent. The owners need to bear a huge responsibility for the behavior of their dogs. Nobody wants to see their dog impounded and put down.
“It’s for the best and we all know it,” the father wrote.
As I read the email, sitting in my car in the parking lot of a local Home Depot, I began to sob. I was devastated for Jasper and his family. I believed they loved their dog. I wanted to find him another home, a pit bull sanctuary, something. I imagined their goodbye at the humane society. I wished we’d never walked by their house that morning. I wished Jasper had been leashed.
Chloe is recovering from her injuries. For weeks after the attack my body was covered in bruises from holding Chloe tight to me as Jasper attacked her. Shawna is anxious on walks now and carries a large stick. I do not leave the house without pepper spray.
A few nights later I saw a post about Jasper on Instagram. He looked peaceful and sweet in the photograph. “Rest in peace Jasper, my heart is breaking,” the caption read.
It made me sad for everything that didn’t have to happen.
The man went straight for the oyster omelette. He also wanted the seafood white beehoon, cabbage and fried wontons. A LOT OF FOOD LOR. He always thinks that a full table of diners meant that he could order many dishes. Dohhh. I passed on the prawn paste chicken wings, and went for the sambal kangkong that was nicely done without being drowned in oil. The pig trotter beehoon was good because the meat didn't come out of a can. (Think, Narcissus cans.) Hahaha. The kitchen braised it themselves.
The beef hor-fun was stir-fried with bittergourd and salted black beans. It was delicious. Tenderloin was apparently the cut used; they didn't treat it or tenderize till there's that sickly sweet taste typical of beef at many zi char restaurants. The usual corn starch was used to thicken the gravy of the dishes, but the kitchen wasn't too heavy-handed with the MSG or salt. The restaurant has been around for a while, and we never realized that the food's so decent. It's an easy venue to return for another meal, or to have food delivered from them. It was such an enjoyable meal that gave us a chance to catch up with the friends.
By now, I know what type of eater Choya is, and how neat she can be. Her sharp snout meant that there usually wouldn't be a mess to clear after meals unless she takes out all the food to eat it off the floor. Hahaha. She does that to bigger bones, on the some days. I bought the smallest bowl, categorized as No.5 on the shop (at 11.2cm diameter and 5.5cm depth). It was perfect to hold goat's milk for Choya to drink from. The best part- the ceramic bowl is apparently microwave and dishwasher-safe.
Choya's handcrafted bowl arrived, and got promptly filled up with water to check for leaks. It felt good in my hands. The artist has got a lovely touch. I could put raw meat, offal and bones in there too. For a photo perhaps. I usually prefer raw things to be placed in inert bowls such as stainless steel or glass. Stainless steel works best because it doesn't break into a million pieces that still taunt me a week later if my cleaning up isn't thorough enough.
As I looked at the bowl, the dog silently padded over and laid down, looking rather expectant. WHUT. How could she assume that this bowl is hers?! Fine. 30ml of goat’s milk went in there. She was pleased as punch. As she sipped, the bowl was heavy enough to hold steady on the marble floor. I didn’t put a mat underneath and it didn’t move. I'm excited about future collaborations. Let's see what designs they churn out. I wouldn't mind one as a açaí bowl for myself. Heh.
Do you wear shorts? I rarely do. I don't wear them to run because 'wind rashes' appear on my thighs if they aren't covered by tights. I don't wear them to the exercise studios because I don't like so much bare skin touching mats and such. Also, I generally get a ton of bruises on my legs from krav maga, so I don't really want to show 'em off to the world. I don't wear shorts at home because it's cooler to wear dresses. Hurhurhur.
However during lockdown in the months of April to June, it was so damn hot exercising at home that I bought three pairs of shorts from Decathlon. Now that I’ve stopped working out at a gym, and do HIIT stuff at home, these shorts still come in handy. These shorts that are more like tights. The flappy shorts have got additional tights in there, upholding my modesty in all exercise moves. For S$10 each, I have no complaints!
My legs are too pale. LOL They're in the 'original' skin tone while my shoulders and arms are shades more tanned. Since the shorts are already being used, I try to wear them while walking the dog in the mornings. Let's see if the legs get a bit of color on them in the sun. I don't fancy wearing shorts when I'm out with the dog because, mozzies, and in case other enthusiastic dogs jump on me and leave nail marks down the front of my thighs.
That day I wore shorts to pilates for the first time. Even the instructor was like, “Oh. Is this the first time I see you in shorts?” Well, yeah, I guess. I had my own towel, so all was comfy. Had some bruises, but nothing splendid and eye-catching. Hahahah. I had my legs off of the Reformer and Chair mostly, so it didn't feel too awkward.
Made a last minute call to Enjoy Eating House & Bar, and luckily they had a table for four at lunch. Literally confirmed the table just an hour before we stopped by. Although they now have a new branch at Mercure Hotel on Stevens Road, we went to its original branch at Jalan Besar's Kam Leng Hotel. Small is nice. The original branch is a lot more charming for us.
We had randomly ran into the friends at coffee in the morning, and we were saying how we (all of us) had no plans for the day because it had been a crazy week. So we made an immediate and impromptu lunch date. We sent the dogs home. Yeah, the friends needed to deposit their cute Rottweiler at home too. I fed Choya, left her to snooze, and we shimmied out to lunch. Fuss-free.
Food was still good. A touch of zi char, a bit of your grandmother's homecooked awesomeness, and a bit of Thai flavors. We ordered very conservatively in order to keep lunch light for our stomachs. Tee Kah (pork trotters) Beehoon, Nyonya chicken curry, a bowl of XO white fish soup, and its Ugly Cabbage in Fish Sauce. Steamed jasmine rice provided the carbs we wanted to go along with the curry. No desserts. Oof. I was totally here for the Ugly Cabbage in fish sauce. I love how the kitchen does it!
Doggy daycare is serious business. The operators gotta keep the dogs safe and secure within and outside of the premises, keep them happy, exercised and fed, and also gotta have social media savvy hires to ensure pawrents get damn cute photos. Sunny Heights never fail to update me week after week with photos. Texts are sent if Choya skips her lunch or seems a bit moody or anxious. If her behavior is a tad off. Or touch wood, injuries happen. She's famous for her fear of thunder and heavy rain, so that doesn't require a text anymore. She can shiver together with her fweends who might be scared of thunder too.
While there will be strange and unknown dogs coming in on the days Choya goes to school, there's a core group of 'classmates' whom she's friendly enough with. School (daycare) isn't a bad idea for this dog and her temperament. Her handlers watch all of their charges carefully. They've definitely earned my trust, and chalked up plenty of brownie points to take rough edges of my anger should anything happen.
Choya has spent 1.5 years and counting at Sunny Heights. She's thriving. She comes home happy, and not traumatized. The exercise, socialization and mental stimulation are good for her. The man and I keep up with her daily training; while we can keep her exercised and well-fed, these happen in a different form. We wouldn't be able to provide a pack environment for her. (Also, we're not that sociable.) That's something the school can do, and do well.
It was a lovely stroll around the lake. It has been nicely done up and landscaped. Plenty of green for the dog. She merrily trotted along and was sniffing around loads. She was super happy peeing in many spots. Then we went to Five &2. The man ordered a spicy oyster scallop omelette pasta, and had to have cuttlefish balls because it's served with sambal. I had a spicy salted fish pasta with sliced pork, which was absolutely delicious although the nutritional factor was uhhh low. Hahaha. An easy glass of pinot noir and gin and tonic rounded up the meal.
It was a lovely breezy evening to be sitting out at the al fresco area to have dinner. The afternoon rains and fans cooled the area significantly. The dog was pleased. After checking out her surroundings and ignoring the barks of other dogs, she promptly fell asleep under my chair. We ought to enjoy more of these before the hot season returns with a vengeance in mid-February. After dinner, we took another stroll around the lake for the dog's final pee of the night. The moon was high and bright, the first full moon of 2021. And a quick check made us realize that this was the Wolf Moon. (Hence, Thaipusam was marked on this date this year.)
In a festive book exchange, I received a copy of Patrick Süskind's 'Das Parfum' (1985), translated from the original German by John E. Woods. Wow! I first read this book at 12 years old, and thrice more after that at various ages, and I was always creeped out. Since the book was sitting on the shelf, I read it again. It's still creepy. I haven't gotten around to watching the 2006 film directed by Tom Tykwer, featuring Alan Rickman and Dustin Hoffman, or the 2018 adaptation into a television series now showing on Netflix.
I was mesmerized by the horror. How do you even write about scents and smells? How should one describe them? Everyone's memory bank of scents is so varied! How do olfactory human functions translate into words? How do we capture the essence of a smell? A Roger Ebert review of the film in 2007 noted,
Not only does "Perfume" seem impossible to film, it must have been amost impossible for Patrick Suskind to write. How do you describe the ineffable enigma of a scent in words? The audiobook, read by Sean Barrett, is the best audio performance I have ever heard; he snuffles and sniffles his way to greatness and you almost believe he is inhaling bliss, or the essence of a stone. I once almost destroyed a dinner party by putting it on for "five minutes," after which nobody wanted to stop listening.
The stupor can be systemic. Some people with covid-19 seem to have been afflicted with lasting anosmia—the loss of smell—and the effects go beyond missing the zest of a just-peeled orange or the salt of a sea breeze; they may report feeling depressed or adrift. Dr. Sandeep Robert Datta, a neurobiologist, recently told the Times that, while many think of scent as “an aesthetic bonus sense,” it is a vital link between people and their environment. Losing that link can be traumatic. “People’s sense of well-being declines,” Datta said. “It can be really jarring and disconcerting.” Perhaps anosmia feels so traumatic because smell is so personal, wrapped up with one’s own idiosyncratic narrative and memory. Spongy vanilla cake dunked in tea may have rocketed Marcel Proust backward into his pampered youth, but the whiff of madeleines will mean something entirely different—if it means anything—to you.
There're plenty of olfactory workshops in Singapore, scents and those food styling sessions. They all deal with smells, taste and flavors. Say, soap-making, candle-making, perfume-making, assembling floral-bouquets, et cetera. I'm not into scents and fragrances. I use them, but sparingly. Depending on the ratio of ingredients, scents can be an assault on my senses. Parfum, like essential oils, while they might not be offensive on the nose, they tend to make me feel ill and dizzy, or create an allergic reaction with their vapor. Because flowers and herbs. Ugh. I prefer scents like 'ocean', 'salt spray', baby powder, aloe vera, hiba wood, orange, lemongrass... the sorts.
However, some scents make me feel positively nauseous the moment the reach my nose, especially food, for example, soybeans boiling in a pot, bakes in the oven (flour, butter and sugar being heated up), durians, desserts, cream and such such. I don't even like floral alcohol or beer. Hahaha. Hence I no like gin with strong floral notes; London Dry only, thanks. Cakes don't smell very good to me, particularly sponge and chiffon cakes. I'm not even fond of bananas and the stink that over-ripe bananas send out.
Scent studies were good for business, too. In recent years, the number of scented products for the home has exploded: where there was once just “lemon fresh” or “ocean breeze” dish soap, now there are hundreds of varieties, including “honeycrisp apple,” “sea salt neroli,” and “palmarosa wild mint.” One study predicted that the scented-candle business will net $4.22 billion by the end of 2024. You can now find candles that mimic the smells of Catholic Mass, a warm French baguette, a tomato vine in the hot sun, and a rotting bouquet inside a funeral home.
I've become very aware of scents used at home because of the dog. I don't put on strong scents when I take her out. I don't want her to be smacked in the face by a wave of crazy scents too overwhelming for her brain to process. "While we have about 6 million olfactory receptors, dogs have a staggering 300 million." She doesn't seem to react adversely to the calming mists, but I spray it on her bed linen in moderation. She smells us even before she sees us. Okay, she likely hears us too. But when she's older and slower, then she can only rely on her sense of smell.
Putting on a mask each time I head out isn't a bad thing. That, and washing hands and keeping up with hygiene are the only things protecting me from being infected with any type of viruses. I would have to hope that my immune system is strong enough to be battling whatever that tries to invade it. Masking up also ensures that I don't have to smell other human beings. LOL I don't really like being in close proximity to strangers and smelling THEM, their skin, or their day-old oils in the hair, or whatever perspiration and stink on the clothes. However, I sneakily remove my mask for a few minutes when I'm at the beach, by the water or in the park. Those smells are gorgeous and literally uplifting. Being immersed in the sounds and smells of Nature always puts me in a good mood.
Talking about smells can feel a little like talking about dreams—often tedious, rarely satisfying. The olfactory world is more private than we may think: even when we share space, such as a particularly ripe subway car, one commuter may describe eau d’armpit as sweet Gorgonzola cheese, another will detect rotting pumpkin, and a third a barnyardy, cayenne tang. What surprised me is that using phrases like “barnyardy, cayenne tang” is a perfectly valid, even preferred, way to write about nasal experiences. Many of the most seasoned perfume critics incline toward the rhapsodic, as do the would-be critics who gather on the Internet to wax eloquent about the things they’ve smelled.
