Spaghetti al Gambero al Ristorante Acqua e Farina

We managed to get to Acqua e Farina at Keong Saik Road for the last order. Of course we sat outdoors. They thoughtfully tiled the flooring at the corridor, as well as installed ceiling fans. It was a hot hot night at 32°C, but not completely unbearable with the fans providing some moving air. 

I've stopped by its restaurant at The Rail Mail ages. It's a family restaurant that I would return if it were more convenient to me. The restaurant survived the fickle F&B industry for 20 years and just opened up an outlet at Keong Saik Road. I really hope they find a balance between manpower and rental and operational costs. We have many similar Italian restaurants in Singapore. If it's just pizza and pasta, one can find them anywhere. 

There's free corkage for bottles, but the per glass charges are imposed; fair enough. They have a decent enough wine list, so I'm not particular bothered about bringing wine unless it's something special for a gathering. I didn't intend to have a full bottle of wine. Opted for an easy carafe of wine tonight. 

This is by no means fine dining, but starters are priced between S$20 for a portion of soup and S$33 for a portion of braised onions with green asparagus and panfried air-cured guanciale. Pastas aren't going below S$36 a portion. The man took the tagliatelle al cacao con gamberetti e nduja. I never understand this pasta — the sweet hints come out stronger than the spicy or savoury. I wanted a simple spaghetti al gambero. It was done aglio e olio with king prawns. It was good, but I should have asked for it to be spicier. Hurhurhur. 

Congee at Sin Heng Kee

When we were hungry but not having any sort of giant cravings at mid-day, lunch was to be casual. It was blazing as hell, nobody thought it was weird to go to an equally humid non-air-conditioned food center in the middle of Toa Payoh to eat hot congee. LOLOLOL 

It was 34°C. And we had been outdoors all morning. This is as Singaporean as it gets I suppose. Well, we were rather sweaty to begin with, so nobody minded perspiring more!

We trooped off to Sin Heng Kee (新興記) for congee. Its Toa Payoh Lorong 6 outlet was the most convenient to us that day. This is a spot that is packed out from 11.30am to 1.15pm. Go at 1.30pm if you don't want to spend time waiting for seats. We turned up at 1.30pm and easily got a table for four.

Everyone chose different ingredients for their congee. I opted for a no-brainer sliced pork and century egg congee. Wow, they're really generous with the century egg, which came in cubes. I still added more century egg. Oof. The table also shared boiled pork and prawn dumplings.  

The congee is quite delicious lah — the home-cooked chunky type rather than the smooth blended versions the restaurants serve up. But some might say Sin Heng Kee's congee might be a tad salty. Of course one could request for less salt, but I don't know if I'm okay with the sodium levels though.

SIFA :: 'Home'

As hectic as my schedule is these few weeks, I also made time to catch some ticketed shows at SIFA venues. I was pleasantly surprised by how much audience participation there was in 'HOME'.

Created by Geoff Sobelle, who also acted in the show, it was a wonderful piece of performance theatre. What a talented cast! The set was amazing, as are the actors who had a comedic sense of timing at the right moments. What a great of absurdist theatre. 

We see a 'house' artistically built from nothing, and the actors made it a home. We see the people in the home simultaneously, going to bed as one resident, and waking up as another, although they presumably lived in it one after the other. We see morning rituals, getting in and out of the bath-tub, kitchen things and daily going-ons. Even the kitchen sink had water coming out of the tap. It was rather magical. 

The show travels internationally, but in each city, it involves and includes local audiences, and even local musicians. It was so fun for the audiences to be invited up to stage to participate in rituals of parties, friendship, marriages, childbirth, and death. The cast happily went around to pick people. I was sitting in the front few rows, and unfortunately, at the sides — quite a sitting duck. I totally shrank into my seat and avoided eye contact. Ahahahaha. 

There was a jar of olives handed out to audiences and passed around. Then we were all asked to help string up the lights. We all felt included. Two members of the audiences (who happened to be Singaporean) were given microphones, and asked to talk about their childhood homes and describe some details. That was an intimate touch. The audiences invited up were absolutely sporting, and performed admirably.  

Since this is a non-narrative performance, it's like a 'live documentary'. We were all made to think what makes a house, a home. As a rental venue, residents come and go, but we pretty much do the same thing. Well, except for serial murderers who might have secret basements or bury corpses in the walls. 

 Folk-rock musician Elvis Perkins provided vocals for the show's original music, with additional vocals lent by chamber choir The Crossing. Elvis also played the guitar and the alto-harp. That was really quite lovely. The show ended with a little band from the collective Jacept Brass that played 'Rasa Sayang' and it was a party all the way through. 

14 Pots of Biryani!

When the friends called for a table to gather for 'The Great Indian Biryani Festival' at The Line, we did. Well, it's a buffet, so we should be ready to eat. Unfortunately none of us could do lunch, so it had to be dinner. We were like, how to sleep after ingesting this much carbs!

I steeled my stomach for the onslaught of carbs. There were 14 pots of biryani laid out! From each region, there were two biryani presented — a meat and a vegetarian. Woah. There were some good ones and some middling versions. I didn't mind this buffet as a whole; otherwise I would have to get out there to different restaurants to get the various versions I would like to try. 

I skipped all the Lucknowi chicken biryani, and took the lamb biryani instead. I loved the Kolkata pumpkin and potato biryani, and the Beary black chickpea biryani. Unfortunately the Malabar prawn biryani wasn't as flavorful as I had expected. There was also a quite a delicious Dindigul mutton biryani done in Tamil Nadu style. The Ambur jackfruit biryani was tasty too. That goat biryani was described as 'Kolkata Aloo, Egg and Goat', but of course people took all the goat and left the aloo and egg. I felt like taking a marker to cross out the 'goat' on the tag. Hahahaha. 

The dal makhani and bhindi masala were okay, not as delicious as I had hoped. But everything else was tasty. I liked the vegetarian kofta. I skipped the green pea aloo tikki. NO TO PEAS. There was an appam station! Wheeeeee. But the appam wasn't crispy enough. Ah well, at least the flour mix tasted fine. They offered some sugar things to go along. No thanks. I do appam savory. I eat it with something-masala.

We were disciplined and didn't do any sort of alcohol. Not when we have an early start in the morning. And I have a gym class to stay sober for. I stuck to water. The mango lassi and fruit punch at the side were rubbish. I ditched them after a sip.

'The O. Henry Prize Stories 2024

The O. Henry Prize is one the oldest literary award around, since 1919, with a break in 2020. It honors good short stories published in English in the journals and magazines in US and Canada. The award list for 2025 has just been announced in April. 

I like the annual compilation because it tells me the story trends, writing directions and inclinations of what authors want to do, slightly more than what readers want to read, because thankfully, we are still pretty diverse in our reading preferences.

I always read these stories a year later. I enjoyed the 2024 compilation. There are 20 stories/authors selected that are published in this edition of 'The Best Short Stories 2024: The O. Henry Prize Winners' (September 2024), edited by Amor Towles.

There's a story translated from Portuguese 'My Good Friend' by Juliana Leite (translated by Zoë Perry), and another translated from Italian 'The Soccer Balls of Mr. Kurz' by Michele Mari (translated by Brian Robert Moore). The compilation is a good read that I didn't intend to finish in one sitting. I split them over a few days, also because the book came in during a week when I was super busy. So I could only read it over coffee or over lunch when I get some precious alone-time. Here are two extracts from two stories I enjoyed. 

'The Honor of Your Presence' by Dave Eggers, published in One Story

Narrator Helen is an invitation card designer, and she has an out-of-work relative, Uncle Peter Mahoney who lives in her garage in Tres Pinos. One day, Uncle Peter egged her on to sneak into one of the galas that she had done the invites. It was a costumed gala at the museum in Monterey. So Peter dressed up as a leopard seal and Helen was a whale shark.

Then they conjured an extra invite and crashed another party at the fairground in Gilroy — the Gilroy Garlic Festival. Uncle Peter brought along his friend Gus too. She got to know bartender Terri at this party, and there were romantic sparks between them. Terri said she was going to work at another party. So Helen and Uncle Peter and her colleagues they began crashing another costumed party at Palace of Fine Arts. 

 "Don't you realize how stupid this is?" Helen roared. She pointed at her colleagues, one by one, like a scolding nun. "Sona comes to these events. She's probably somewhere with a headset and a clipboard. With every additional moron—and you're all just towering morons—you're exponentially increasing the chances we'll all get caught."

"Helen," Gwen said. "You really think she'd recognize any of us in period costumes, and half of us in masks?"

At the end of it, Helen left her colleagues because she didn't want to be fired from her job, and ran into Terri. And she was glad she crashed this party. Heheheh. Well, I suppose you have to chance it in life this once or twice, just to see where it takes you.

'The Room-Service Waiter' by Tom Crewe, published in Granta

Young Charles Bisset was working as a room-service waiter at hotel Le Meurice. There is a painting done of Charles by a hotel guest named Soutine in 1927. Charles was then 24 years old. Monsieur Soutine was now deceased, and ironically was highly esteemed as an artist now, and this particular painting is on its third owner, titled 'The Room-Service Waiter'. 

Decades later, a curator at the Louvre Monsieur DuPont came seek out Charles to invite him to an exhibition of Soutine's paintings at the gallery, paintings done of waiters, pastry cooks, valets, bellboys across many hotels. 

Attending the opening of the exhibition brought back memories of Charles's youth, including how he had met his ex-wife Josephine, who was a chambermaid at Le Meurice. Josephine and Charles were married for ten years, then they split. There was no reason given for their split.

I don't want to think about how art affects people, and having one's portrait done by an unknown and then later-on famous artist would affect one's life. I focused on the other parts of the story. I looked at the nostalgia in this story, and then some. Memories of one's youth, one's past, and now, as an older person, thirty years later, looking back at all those early years. 

He finished his sandwich and found some paper. He wrote a letter to Josephine, telling her about M. DuPont and the picture. He would be honored if she were to go with him one day to see it, as they had always wanted to. People said he was hardly changed! He was sure she would think that he was. I hope you will say yes to this invitation, he concluded: I would so much like to see you again. Forgive me, Charles. 

He sealed the letter in an envelope and left it on the table. Then he walked into his bedroom and stood swaying in front of the mirror. He smoothed his hair and tightened his tie and put his hands on his hips. "Bravo," he said quietly to the empty room. "Bravo."

Porcelina at Esplanade Outdoor Theatre

Thrilled to catch The Smashing Pumpkins tribute band Porcelina on a big stage! As part of Esplanade's program at the Outdoor Theatre in this theme 'Songs We Grew Up With: 80s - 90s', Porcelina played two 45-minute sets at Esplanade Outdoor Theatre. 

Took the dog along. Dogs aren't allowed at the steps/seats at the Outdoor Theatre. it's also too loud for their sensitive hearing. I wisely retreated to the restaurants. Our friends took a good table at Tomatillo; out in the open, facing the stage — we could hear the music well and see the big screen, but the volume was controlled. Although there was some weird lightning and overcast skies, the weather held. It was incredibly humid. Thank goodness for portable fans. Dog was very happy.

Porcelina played a great show! Kudos to the band for gritting through the crazy heat at soundcheck and the actual sets. The Smashing Pumpkins are coming to Singapore in October, to play a short set at F1 Grand Prix. I'm not bothered to go see them, not even if I have complimentary tickets to the races. But the husband is a huge fan, and he has been given a ticket. So he's going.  

I was pleased to hang out with the friends for a drink and a chat. It was good to see many whom I haven't seen for a while too. We totally finished a barrel of beer at Tomatillo. Haha. I regretted drinking 1.5 pints of beer. I should have kept it at a pint max. Beer sh*ts. I got home early enough at 10.45pm for a hot shower, dog's bedtime feed and all. BUT my stomach churned till 2.30am ain't fun.

Pizzas at Anto

There's suddenly many new pizzerias popping up in town. I have no idea if they would survive, but as they remain operational, we'll swing by to check them out. The man is the pizza fiend. While I'm not the biggest fan of pizza, I recognize that the poor man needs a pizza fix once in a bit even when there are no friends to share with. 

We randomly walked into Anto (Pizza E Aperitivi) for lunch on a quiet week day. I stared at the menu. It was truly all pizza, and cocktails, and some wine. LOLOLOL Pizzas and two drinks in Singapore on a night out will cost you S$100++ per person already. It's kinda ridiculous, if you think about what 'beer and pizza' nights are, really.

Alright. Let's do this. We bravely ordered two pizzas — a polpo e patate, and a standard Margherita. They were seriously done well. Dough was decent. We managed to finish most of it, except two slices. The man was happy to pack them home for breakfast the next day. 

Since we had Choya with us, we sat out at the al fresco front lounge that was well cooled by overhead fans. Although the mid-day was brutal, we were not too uncomfortable. The side of the corridor held a Ziptrak blind that really kept out the sun and light rains. 

As we were leaving, the skies darkened and the rains chucked down. The man brought the car around. I was going to carry the Smol Girl and make a run for it. One of the young staff gallantly took a brolly to shelter us to the car. That was awfully sweet of him to do so. 

Delicious Lentil Roti & Seabass at Shikar!

S and I decided to have spices for our dinner, and opted to go to Shikar. She hasn't visited this restaurant, and I thought she would enjoy the dishes. For two people, I would generally order three items — a biryani or naan/roti, a meat main and a dal or vegetable of sorts. Tonight, I wanted to check out the tasting menus. 

We took the tasting menu that promised small portions, but we added on maize lentil roti, and one portion of chicken biryani. LOL That one portion of biryani KILLED us. S and I were over-estimated ourselves. Tehehehhe. Well, what's new!

No regrets ordering the maize lentil roti. It was delicious. I asked for it to be served earlier with the lotus leaf roasted seabass. This was done excellently. The rempah was gorgeous and went well with the roti. We really enjoyed this combination. 

I was chicken-ed out. Ahahahaha. The menu had chicken tikka and their version of butter chicken. I couldn't stuff in anymore chicken. S and I had a big spoonful of biryani each, and were done. We absolutely couldn't even eat the basket of naan, which held four slices. 

There were leftovers to be packed home, namely the chicken biryani, butter chicken and Shikari dal. It was quite sizeable. That could be my supper the next night. The food is too good to be wasted. I'm very good at sorting out leftovers, and I have no issues about eating them. Noms. 

Earned My Nasi Padang This Week

When I sweat it out at the gym, I burn enough calories to earn my lunch. That said, I can't just inhale a whole plate of rice. That would be crazy. I'm eating to build muscles, not to have a weight gain without the benefits. I wanted to have nasi padang this week, so I made sure I worked out enough to earn it. 

When I was done at the gym and heading out for lunch, the gym buddies were also on their way out. Decided on an impromptu lunch at Rumah Makan Minang on Kandahar Street. Figured that a 1.30pm lunch would have seats for us. It was crowded, but we got a table for four. Sat outdoors since we were all sweaty. There were fans and it wasn't a hot day; didn't need the air-conditioned tables upstairs. 

You can skip the sambal goreng here. It has always tasted weird, and nowadays, it tastes even worse; the tempeh is just sour. The other dishes are fine. The chicken rendang is especially sedap. I like its begedil and paru belado too. The sambal belachan and sambal ijo are still great. Some thing thing 

The table went to town with the rendang, and also added on sotong. They also wanted begedil, so we had seven begedil in total since I wanted three. Loads of really decent sambal eggplant and kangkong and all. The food arrived on two trays. LOL Everyone was very happy with lunch. 

Teochew Kway Teow at TOTO

Ended a work thing late-ish, and I was hungry. The husband brought the dog out to meet me. He had calls all day and while he managed a late lunch of a small sandwich, he hadn't had time to sort out dinner either.

Managed to get to TOTO Seafood at 9.30pm for their last orders. Haven't been to this restaurant for a while. They also haven't updated their socials much. I heard it has changed hands, but it didn't matter to me since the kitchen crew still produce good food. I don't know how long more they would exist; you know how F&B businesses are in Singapore — short-lived. 

The husband wanted salted egg yolk prawns, and we agreed on sweet potato leaves in a claypot. Added a protein in the form of ginger pork. I like this version. It's stir-fried with the right dark soy, and the kitchen still uses lean pork and sliced them thin. The husband's stomach was happy.

Skipped rice and went for carbs in the form of Teochew kway teow. I really like Teochew kway teow because it's dry and holds loads of chye poh. It's close enough to Penang char kway teow too. TOTO does a pretty decent version of it. I love it with its sambal belachan. 

We split a bottle of Orion beer too. That was kinda needed and super refreshing. Just one bottle, nothing more. No guilt. Heh. A great way to wind down after a looooong and tiring (but satisfying) day.

Stories by 11 Desi Voices

Picked up 'The Door is Open: Stories of Celebration and Community by 11 Desi Voices' (2024), a book of short stories contributed by 11 writers, and edited by Hena Khan. 

This is a compilation of the lived experiences of the South-Asian American community. The 11 inter-related stories revolve around a community center in the fictional town of Maple Grove in New Jersey.

Through middle-schoolers and their voices, the 11 stories celebrate diversity through festivals, major life events, holidays and the everyday activities at events held at the community center. They also had to fight against xenophobic campaigns to shut down this community center. It's a dilapidated building, but it's a focal point for the South-Asian American community in this town. 

I'd be doing the writers a disfavor if I didn't name them all. They are Veera Hiranandani, Supriya Kelkar, Maulik Pancholy, Simran Jeet Singh, Aisha Saeed, Reem Faruqi, Rajani Larocca, Naheed Hasnat, Sayantani DasGupta, and Mitali Perkins. The writers didn't shy away from 'difficult' topics. They touched on single-parent households, disability and domestic violence, in-group judgments both real and perceived, ethnic and religious racism. I'll highlight my favorite three stories in this book.

'A Taste of Something New' by Simran Jeet Singh

Do we care if we liked the food that we're ethnically supposed to grow up with? I certainly don't like all the foods I eat as as child, nothing to do with whether they're Chinese or Japanese food, or Nyonya cuisine. 

I generally like Asian food, but if you ask me if I like food from China, my answer is NO. So there. Foods from China aren't the types I grew up with. I dislike that sort of flavors. Ugh. 

Narrator Jeevan doesn't like eating Indian food. He's irritated that it comes up in conversations all the time, especially when he's ethnically Indian. And he was shellshocked when his parents, without asking him, signed him up for an Indian cooking class at the Maple Grove Community Center. 

"I HATE INDIAN FOOD," I MUMBLE AS I STARE AT MY PLATE. There's a green blob of palak paneer staring right back at me. It feels like I've eaten the same food and smelled the same smells every day of my life. Couldn't we just have pasta for once?

"You're so dramatic about food," Neena says, rolling her eyes at me from across the dinner table. "And picky."

"I'm not!" I argue. "I eat everything they serve in the school cafeteria. Enchiladas. Pizza. Turkey sandwiches. Even those mashed potatoes that stick to the tray, no matter how hard you bang it against the trash can."

"Nasty!" Neena wrinkles her nose. "If you can eat all that stuff and hate Indian food, then you're a self-racist."

"Taste buds aren't racist," I shoot back. "You're allergic to milk. Does that make you racist against cows?"

As unwilling as Jeevan was, he sighed and obediently went for class to help out his Prem Auntie who apparently was feeling lonely after her husband passed away. He still really disliked sabji. Although why ah, it's very nice vegetables and potatoes what. 

Jeevan somehow decided that he enjoyed food prep and cooking. He isn't super into the food, but he isn't grossed out by the food anymore. "The sizzle begins almost immediately, and I brace myself for a visceral reaction. But to my surprise, the familiar aroma of cumin seeds and diced onions doesn't bother me." He even looked forward to returning next week to cook with Prem Auntie. 

'Together at the Center' by Hena Khan

The editor herself also wrote this story of inclusivity and embracing diversity and divergent opinions. 

A family is having an celebration, an ameen at the Maple Grove Community Center to mark narrator Halima's accomplishment of reading the entire Quran in Arabic after six years. 12-year-old Halimah didn't want her parents to turn it into a fancy party for adults. She wanted pizzas and a 'bounce house' and all that. 

Then she heard her father and others talk about people wanting to close down the community center, and how the rest are fighting to have it renovated and stay open. She decided to do her bit too, for the community. 

When we walk into the lobby, there's a small group of people hanging up posters that read COMMUNITY MEANS U AND ME AND ALL ARE WELCOME HERE AND DIVERSITY MAKES US STRONGER. They're old and young and a mix of races.

I hear a little catch in Mama's voice as she leans over and says, "Look at that. That's the Maple Grove I know."

As we stand there, watching them, I realize they must be reacting to the letter in the paper that Baba showed us, and to the fight over the community center. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I turn to Mama.

"How about instead of having the party the way we were planning, we turn it into an open house, for anyone who wants to come?" I asked.

Mama nods thoughtfully, "Are you sure, meri jaan? You really want strangers there?"

I don't say that she's already invited a bunch of aunties and uncles I don't know. So really, what's a few more strangers?

"If they want to come, that's good, right?" I ask instead. "I don't know if it will, but maybe this can help. If people who feel like they don't know people like us can come to the ameen, talk to us, and eat some biryani, I'm sure they will love it. And if not, there's dessert."

Mama's eyes grow wet. She doesn't say anything but pulls me into a big hug and kisses the top of my head. 

'The Map of Home' by Sayatani DasGupta

This is the final story in the collection. 12-year-old narrator Munia faces the same issues as every third-culture child in America and elsewhere. When asked by her substitute teacher 'Where do you come from' or 'Where does your family come from', Ohio, Massachusetts or England isn't the right answer that people want to hear. They want to hear India or someplace equally exotic, given how Munia looks like. 

The children see and read posters about people not welcoming foreigners, and to 'KEEP MAPLE GROVE WORKING FOR REAL AMERICANS!' The children are like, 'real Americans? like we aren't?'. 

Themed 'Save Maple Grove Community Center' rally and fundraiser, Munia and her sister Veda and their friends formed an all-girl punk rock band and played a gig at the event. At this young age, they know to join the march and the fundraising fair at the community center to keep it open, and to protest at being seen differently by racists and bigots who want them out and 'go back to where they came from'. They sang a punk rock anthem that they wrote, and that they're staying right here and they all belong.

"Perpetual foreigners ,"I say. My mom's a big-time activist who runs a women's shelter and is always lecturing me and Veda about different stuff. "That no matter how long we've been in this country, or how many generations, we're still seen as outsiders."

Yup, this is definitely still happening in 2025 America. 

SIFA 2025 :: ‘The Sea and the Neighbourhood’

I loved it that the Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA) built a pavilion at Bedok Town Square and held its Festival Opening Night there as well. The Opening Show is ‘The Sea and the Neighbourhood’. It is a a multi-disciplinary collaboration with Philip Tan and The Orchestra of the Music Makers, Christina Chan and Singapore Ballet, and vocalists Claire Teo and Mathilda D’Silva.  

The orchestral piece 'Ode to the Sea' and the dance 'Pact of Water' have separate names, but they all came together in one cohesive show as ‘The Sea and the Neighbourhood’, along with visual artist Wang Ruobing's installation 'Beneath Tide, Running Water' that's integrated as part of the stage at this pavilion.  

What a fabulous Opening Show!!! I was pleased to run into many friends whom I hadn't seen for a while. Sure, we're in touch via social media and texts, but it was way more fun to catch up very quickly IRL. SIFA is always a festival in which I get to see all the friends, especially those who flew in to watch the shows!

Bedok Town Square is extremely friendly for Choya to attend too. So she put a batik sailor bow and came along. She wasn't the least bit perturbed, except when the flashbulbs went off as the Guest of Honour arrived and did his rounds. The flashes were non-stop for ten minutes and The poor girl thought it was lightning, that well, preceded thunder. I'm very proud of Choya. She got plenty of attention and head rubs from all her aunties and uncles, kor-kors and jie-jies. She didn't mind that one bit tonight; she was in a super sociable mood.

The SIFA team that organized this post-show reception is a gem. Whose idea was it to have chilled sugarcane juice? That was so awesome. I couldn't resist post-show nibbles of the cutest nasi lemak and vegan otak, and vegetarian rojak. I was really tickled by the 'white rojak' because that was all freeze-fried. It really felt like Choya's food. 

I loved the venue and the whole concept the SIFA Pavilion at Bedok Town Square. I was very tickled by the backdrop of hawker stalls. We’ve never attended a performance in which the scents of kway chap, satay and Hokkien mee wafted by intermittently. Belachan too. Hahahaha.

I had stared at that signboard for spinach soup for the past two hours, before the show and after. Everyone else had been staring at different signboards of the stalls at the hawker center in the background. We all decided that we would get supper. So we did. I got spinach soup. Heh. It was really satisfying.

A Second Pint of Blood This Year

Had a mild shock when staff from the Bloodbank called and politely requested for a pint of my blood, and within seconds, fixed an appointment for me. Over a phone call. Wow. It wasn’t a scam. After the text confirmation of the appointment date came in, I double-checked it on the app. Okaaaayy. Legit.

I had just donated a pint in January. (One can donate 430-470ml of whole blood every 12 weeks.) I guess they really needed stocks of O-. Toddled down to a conveniently located Bloodbank to do the deed. I wouldn’t mind a new Blood Buddy squishie. 

Considering that I just cleared my medicals with the gynecologist and the cardiologist, and alcohol intake is still drastically reduced, it was a pretty good time to donate blood. My haemoglobin levels read 14.3 on the day of the appointment, and blood pressure was excellent-normal.

As the bag fattened, I broke out into cold sweat again. My blood pressure had plummeted and I had to rest. It wasn’t too bad though. It was very nice to have a cup of Milo in bed. Teeeheee. I really liked that bandage they wrapped for me — paw prints! 

They didn’t let me out of the bed till the doctor checked my blood pressure a third time. I went to the rest area, chugged a can of isotonic drink, rested for another 10 minutes, then strolled a Lululemon boutique to buy things, then cabbed home. With my new Blood Buddy squishie.

The staff gave me the whole spiel about after-care and taking it slow the next day. The fluids and iron needed to be replenished. They offered me iron tablets, but I declined. I have no issue with iron and red blood cell count and haemoglobin levels; food will balance them out within a day.

I heard the caution about not exercising for 24 hours after donating blood. It was repeated a number of times. I ignored it. By noon the next day, I have had a snack, a full dinner, and a glass of milk. I didn't touch alcohol and I don't intend to drink much for the next two weeks. And I had slept a full nine hours. 

When I woke up and felt perfectly fine, I made a judgement call. Went for an easy cardio class at the gym the next day at noon. Wheeeeee. It was themed 'Short Sharp Springs'. It ain’t no strength training day. It was truly all cardio, with an easy portion of weights. Of course I went light on the dumb-bells. I'm very attuned to my body. No wooziness at all. All good. 

Celebrated D with a Chicken Pie!

Celebrated D's birthday at The Social Space Potong Pasir. The cafe does food and desserts, so it's not seeming if we bring our own cakes and such to eat there. What we can do, because the cafe is gracious enough to permit that — is display the 'cake', do photos and a 'cut cake' thingy, then we pack it all home. That would be fine. 

When we got to the cafe, that stalk of carnation got me LOL. It was given out the Potong Pasir grassroots volunteers (under People's Association / PA) and the Potong Pasir Community Club. I didn't get there early enough to receive it. Whewwww. Our friends did, and blinked. For human moms, and also for fur-moms. We were like, is this a 'thank you for your vote' kind of thing. I didn't think PA grassroots would do this for a non-PAP party if it had won Potong Pasir SMC in the recent General Election.

D got back after a loooong run, said hi to us, swigged a satisfying cold can of beer, went off to take a shower, and came back down to receive all our wishes. Tehehehehe. All the floofs went to wish him too, by sniffing. Some wanted head rubs, even Choya who usually doesn't bother, deigned to show the birthday boy her belly to ask for some scritches. Hahaha. The floofs are comfortable in this pack, and with one another, and all the humans. They know.

D isn't a cake kind of guy. So we got him a chicken pie instead. Got the birthday boy a bigger pie from Chicken Pie Kitchen, and small personal-sized pies for the rest of us. For fun, we also bought and shared the XL egg tarts. Everyone packed our pies home for tea/supper/breakfast. Wheeeeeee.

What Is 'Travesty'?

It's a very thought-provoking short story. It's 'Travesty' by Lillian Fishman, published in The New Yorker on May 4, 2025. It explores the concept of a 'forbidden' romantic relationship, how it's viewed as morally corrupt, and in today's terms, 'sexual politics'. It talks about moral pressure, and how young people manage that.  

Narrator Prima is an undergrad major in philosophy at Columbia, on the brink of adulthood and grappling with her identity and decisions as an adult. She becomes romantically involved with a professor, Eugenia Heiss. She thinks that her classmates know of the relationship, and kept their distance from her. Ruth, is Prima's friend, who seems to act like a moral compass with her leading questions. 

Professor Eugenia Heiss taught a module on marriage. She spoke about the deceptive monolith of marriage. Prima was fascinated by Heiss's concepts and thoughts, her voice and her energy. Her relationship with Heiss began a month after the semester ended, and was pretty much taken off-campus. Heiss would visit Prima at her apartment.

“Marriage” was a word, like “motherhood,” like “betrayal,” that seemed to Prima to belong thoroughly to adulthood and to contain inexhaustible intellectual riches. It was one of the great excitements of adulthood to realize that marriage was not always just a response to expectation and convention, as it had been for her parents; marriage could be a complex, intimate architecture, an institution through which all the responsibility and power of adulthood might be expressed.

However, Ruth, together with a Thalia Campbell in the background, quizzes Prima on difficult thoughts about Heiss. Ruth asked if Prima knew about Heiss's history with students, her indiscretions, especially one Anne Lucas. Ruth thought Prima needed 'rescuing'; she wanted Prima to talk to Anne Lucas and see that Heiss is a predator. Prima didn't think she needed that. She wanted to define her own concept of love. And not be just a name to be pitied like Anne Lucas. 

Then she hung out with a schoolmate Fernanda, and heard about Nicole Mangoula, a girl before her, whose relationship with Heiss ended badly and felt manipulated. Now, Prima begins to think deeper. She wrote Heiss a love letter, intending to deliver it via the faculty boxes at the English department, but she ultimately didn't. She ditched that and wrote a simple note instead, addressing Heiss as a teacher rather than a lover.  

She asked for the first time, aloud, standing by the door to her apartment, a spot from which she had not moved in an hour, Why did Anne and Nicole wish they’d been protected? What had happened to them with Heiss? She shook her head. They were not her. She was not in a system; she was in a relationship. She had read enough to know that one day, in some way or another, she would feel that she had been tricked, even if not at Heiss’s hands. This would happen to her! She hoped it would happen to her—she hoped that hers would not be a sheltered life. In this surge of feeling, Prima became aware of how alone she was. She was alone in her studio apartment in Harlem. She could not believe that only the previous night she had been in Heiss’s apartment, in Heiss’s bed, and that she had felt completely fused with Heiss. In a way that she did not understand, and that had nothing to do with Ruth’s implications, she now felt strangely abandoned by Heiss. Why was it that Heiss was not going through this with her? Why had Heiss not been frank with her about how hurt Anne and Nicole had been? Why had Heiss not confided to her the pain of being accused of these abuses, and said to her, You and I know that we are in love, you and I know that you are a woman in your own right?

Perhaps Heiss had been afraid that, if Prima knew that Anne and Nicole felt mistreated, she herself would become distrustful. If so, Heiss had underestimated her in a manner that caused her more pain than any of the conversations she had had on this bleak day. She sat in the high-backed chair in her kitchenette. She unlaced her shoes and pulled them off. If Heiss had not confided in her, it had to be because Heiss considered her too young or too fragile to comprehend this wretched history in its context. Did Heiss think that she was just like Anne and Nicole? Did Heiss—loving her, touching her, enjoying her—throughout all this imagine that someday she, too, would rebuke Heiss for the distortion of her sense of love, and the theft of her innocence?

Prima decided to end the relationship because she couldn't find an equilibrium with how Heiss is treating her, versus how Heiss treated Anne and Nicole. This relationship between Prima and Heiss ended within three months. As a reader, I have no issues with Prima's decisions, whether to begin a relationship with Heiss or to end it. What's important to me personally, is that Prima found growth and illumination in that process, and didn't get hurt badly. She was also independent-minded enough to make her own decisions.

So travesty. The word came up twice in this story — the first time in a comment and shock that Heiss was still allowed to teach after all these 'known' and badly-ended relationships with students, and the second and final time uttered by Heiss who told Prima that she shouldn't be blaming the former for her own decisions that she can make as an adult. Well.  

Heiss stood up beside her. It’s a shame, Heiss said, for you to talk to me about teaching, about power and trust and betrayal, as if you believe that you and Anne and Nicole are children in my care, and as if I’m like a father who convinces you that the dirty things I like to do are for your own good when you’re too small to know better. I did not take you from your crib, and certainly not from your dorm. It’s a travesty that you insist on thinking of yourself as a child, when you have a woman’s mind, a woman’s freedom, a woman’s body. I didn’t know that you thought of yourself that way. Forgive me, Heiss said, spitefully, with a down-curled mouth. Heiss took the waxed coat from the chair and pulled it on. From a pocket of the coat Heiss removed Prima’s note and her ribbon and tossed them onto the counter.

This short story is drawn from a novel in progress. The author decided that 'Travesty' is a chapter, and it follows Prima. In an interview, the author was asked, 

Do you know already how it fits into the rest of the book? Is Prima the protagonist of the narrative throughout?

In my first attempt, this book was about a former student and lover of Heiss’s reëvaluating her experience in retrospect. Then I wrote a draft mostly from Heiss’s perspective, in which “Travesty” was the only chapter that followed Prima. It took me a long time to recognize that the question of how a student-professor relationship will seem in retrospect is actually most acute and threatening for the very young person who is being warned about how she may someday feel. It’s more harrowing for Prima than for someone older, like Heiss, who can contextualize it. The book in its current form is almost entirely about Prima, and about the frustration she feels—a frustration that I experienced, too, at Prima’s age—about how and when she will be taken seriously as an adult. In a certain way, it’s a privilege to be allowed to make reckless or naïve decisions and regret them.

Excellent House Rules at Bailey & Patch Pet Cafe

I'm very iffy about stepping into pet cafes. After all, ill-disciplined unleashed dogs and unreasonable owners seem to like these places, and the food almost always is terrible. After all the hype, I decided to brave one visit to this social enterprise cafe at Enabling Village. 

We went to check out Bailey & Patch. It was really quite conveniently located with plenty of parking available on a week day at 12.45pm. Once you drive in, turn right and go on to the end of the road. The cafe is located on the right corner at far side of the Village. 

I was really pleased to see Bailey & Patch's house rules for pets prominently displayed with excellent copywriting. What a pleasure to read. It advocated space for the dogs, and requested owners to be responsible. All dogs are to be leashed; no random wandering about. That's great because it isn't just a pet cafe. Its menu ensures that it gets a steady flow of diners at lunch from the nearby offices.

I was just bemused by this elderly lady who was walking ahead of us with a limp and a walking stick. I wasn't in a hurry to over-take her. Choya was happily sniffing around the grass patches and pillars. We kept a safe distance behind and didn't rush her. 

We realised that she was headed to the bistro as well. For lunch, presumably. At the entrance, she turned around to ask if Choya was friendly and if she would bite. She said she was scared of dogs. 

I was like, 'walao Auntie, you do know that you're entering a pet cafe right?' I didn't say that out loud of course. Instead I said, "She's very sweet and friendly. She doesn't bite." I paused. "Unless you make her angry." 

In response, the elderly lady looked damn disgruntled, and muttered something under her breath and shuffled into the cafe. I happen to have very sharp hearing. I heard it, but let it slide. Why bother. People who are dumb would remain obstinately dumb. 

We were pleasantly surprised that the food at Bailey & Patch is actually decent! We ordered food to share, and went easy on the carbs. The claypot sesame oil chicken was delicious, and less salty and less oily than those at the zi char restaurants. I only wished it held more spring onions. Heh. I was very extra and very happy with the way the spam (or luncheon meat) was sliced and served. For S$4.80, it was wonderful. 

Added the bok choi. I liked it that the gravy/sauce was poured in separately at the table, so that I could control the volume. Next time I'd request to skip the sauce. Blanched vegetables are just lovely for me. Skip the nasi lemak-anything. It's nasi lemak cina; very forgettable — the lemak cannot make it, the sambal is a mega fail. 

The drinks were okay too. The Milo-peng was done quite thick and satisfying. I had nothing to complain about my glass of iced lemon-honey. I'm just so happy that it offers Asian dishes instead of the usual fried foods and eeeky items so typical of middling cafes. We were there to try the food more so than the bakes. I'm not keen on sugar, so I'm not even bothered to try the desserts. But the man was more than happy to get a small box of brownies to-go.

Soy-Braised Chicken Stew

Since I turned on the stove to steam stuff for the floofs, I decided that the humans should get something too. Ordered a bunch of ingredients, including a 1.6kg whole Anxin chicken, and a pack of skinless chicken breast. 

The kiddos got their steamed pumpkin, broccoli and carrots. Those went into freezer trays for consumption over the next two weeks. These are toppers for their meals. Choya takes the steamed pumpkin. Some variety in her food is always good, and pumpkin is one of those magic ingredients that balances the gut flora. 

I boiled up an easy pot of soy-braised chicken stew with potatoes and carrots, and fried up some vegetables. Had to watch the braising time for chicken breast since those turn rubbery easily. The man was super pleased for a pot of tasty stew. He declined to have it with rice, and instead opted to have shokupan with it. LOL Alrighty, that worked too. #ImpieCooks2025

The portions for the humans sufficed for dinner, as well as another two meals. It's great for those days when we have long work calls and a grueling schedule. I'm usually not as fussy with food. As long as the man is fed, he's happy. 

Insomnium in Singapore

Had to catch Finnish melodic death metal band Insomnium's show in Singapore. For this tour, they named it 'Beyond the Shadows of the Dying Sun', after their sixth album released in 2014. The members have changed, but the band has largely stayed intact for the 28 years. That's amazing. 

The band began the show with '1696' from their latest album 'Anno 1696' (2023). This is a superb album. All the riffs and lyrics. From this, they played 'The Witch Hunter'. They also played 'And Bells They Toll' from the 2019 album 'Heart Like a Grave'. Wheeeeee.

It's not like I know every song. I like the band, but I don't have the bandwidth to remember all their songs over the years. Hhehehe. I only know my favorites. I had to refer to the crowdsourced setlist too. Hehehe. They did three encore songs — two from the 2014 album 'Shadows of the Dying Sun' — 'Primeval Dark' and 'While We Sleep' and a final 'Heart Like a Grave' (2019, from the eponymous album). 

Held at the small Phil Studio, it was packed out. The sound was great for the 1hr-15min gig. The band played such a good show. There was a meet-and-greet after the show, but I didn't bother staying. Didn't need to lah. The show in Singapore was mild, and no controversies happened. Metal gigs are honestly over-rated as being 'trouble'. Tsk tsk. Honestly, it felt really good to be watching a death metal gig after the GE2025 weekend. The friends and I needed this. 

Singapore General Elections 2025

For the past few weeks since mid-March, I resolutely refused to read too much Singapore political news. Everywhere and everything is touting the Singapore elections, the candidates and their words. Everyone and their grandmothers' opinions are coming out of the woodwork. There's so much inherent racism, so much prejudices. It's absolutely dismal. 

Our last General Election was held on 10 July 2020. Workers' Party (WP) made a huge win with Sengkang GRC. This is 2025. WP kept Sengkang GRC, and Aljunied GRC. I hope the electorate has done a better job of educating ourselves, especially with the ease of internet access and right to knowledge in this city. 

I refused to read the 'he said, she said, they said' thingies. I'm keeping all my opinions to myself. I don't wish to discuss them, and I don't wish to discuss people I know, or how they would be in future. I'm more interested in watching the horror that's unfolding in Trump's 'America First' policies and how the Supreme Court is finally taking him on. 

How I vote, is my business. Am I voting for the candidates in my GRC? Or am I voting for the incumbent and majority party? All I know is, I don't want to vote for clowns. Clowns may come from all parties. I'm in Tanjong Pagar GRC. I look at the contesting parties and I'm like, I don't have much of a choice, do I?

The country went to the polls on May 3, 2025. The sample count was fairly accurate. The actual results were posted shortly, and to a large extent, the overseas voters' choices, while important, didn't make any dent in the percentages, even for those in a close fight at maybe two GRCs and two SMCs. (Alamak, Jalan Kayu SMC, why like this.) 

PAP got a total mandate of 65.57% of a supermajority. As expected. The opposition party, namely Workers' Party (WP) put up a good fight, and secured their spots too. They retained their GRCs, but didn't manage to sway hearts and minds in the other two they were fighting for. An aye-aye to all the women standing as candidates in the elections. As for those really weird-ass candidates from the other parties, I really don't know what those morons in the smaller opposition parties are doing. 

What's scary, are the people/citizens who are completely politically apathetic. They live in the country, but refuse to vote or get themselves re-registered onto the electoral rolls. Their reason — 'I can't be bothered.' That is terrifying to me. I suppose if we're younger, we might just get away with it. But as we get older and more invested in making this country home, and wanting it to be better for future generations of Singaporeans, wouldn't it be worth our time to vote? When people say 'I'm not bothered', it opens my eyes to what these people care about exactly — not politics and not how the government works, and imho, are certainly a tad shortsighted. These people figured that they get all the benefits and none of the cons anyway. Riiiiight.  

If these politically apathetic people live in a GRC that's being 'fought over', then their votes would have counted for something. It would have at least spoken their wish for PAP to stay stronger, or a desire to have a counterbalance. Many of us don't wish for chaos. The PAP ought to stop their 'know it all' attitude. Stop talking to us and make us feel like we're being scolded. WTF. We're not dumb. Stop trying to say you'll 'fix the opposition'. What on earth is there to fix. Work with alternative voices, engage civil society. A paternalistic and dictatorial government isn't what we want. Haven't our leaders learnt that by now?

I'm not disappointed with the results of this General Election. I didn't have any expectations. I had hoped a little, but it didn't feel too crushing when dreams didn't come true. The statistics told me that it's a tough dream. But looking at the numbers of how WP performed in Tampines and Punggol GRCs, it tells me that people are thinking, and thinking hard. The PAP shouldn't take it for granted that the electorate will allow gerrymandering if there's a worthy and measured opposition to the incumbent. 

漬物 :: キャベツの浅漬け

S gave us a pack of home-pickled tsukemono. I wasn't expecting it, so that was really lovely. It was cabbage /キャベツの浅漬け. Oh noms! I'm not a kimchi person, but I am all about tsukemono. 

It came at a perfect timing because I was kinda on a 'fake diet' before a scheduled medical. LOLOL So I couldn't do alcohol, and I was trying not to do so much spam and beef (steak) and such. Yet I didn't want to eat salads for my meals. Went easy on the carbs too. The tsukemono would add a crunch to my 'streamlined' meals. 

I didn't want to have it go to waste or dis-respect it. So I decided to cook a simple meal to go along with it. S laughed and said that my "kitchen exists because of Choya". She is not inaccurate. Hurhurhur.

Happiness is knowing that I have a frozen portion of fish bone broth. A few weeks back, I had used bones of hamachi, mackerel and threadfin to cook a pot for the dog, and froze a portion for the humans. That made meal prep so much easier. 

Hopped in to the supermarket to grab clams, prawns and ikan batang. The man would require more protein than just fish. Clams and prawns always hit a spot for him. Mine wouldn't hold the shellfish. Pan-seared the ingredients before adding them to the fish bone broth for a short boil. Ta-dahhhhh. The man had it with brown rice. I passed on the carbs. That was dinner. It was supremely satisfying. 

Lamb Shank Biryani at Shikar

Stopped by Shikar for lunch instead of dinner so that our stomachs had all the space to digest the food before bedtime. They now have a brand new menu for Sunday brunch, so we need to come eat its duck biryani.

Today we didn't over-order. Had starters of papadum, grilled young jackfruit patties, panner tikka, and of course lamb shank biryani, monkey head mushrooms and dal with urad lentils. Freshly fried papadum is seriously tasty, and the restaurant's mix of chickpea flour, garlic and spices is on point. Those mushrooms totally complemented the biryani and dal. Absolutely delicious. We wisely chose to skip having garlic naan. We could have lah, and just tapau home what we couldn't inhale.

We couldn't finish the biryani and dal. There was exactly one generous portion to pack home. So I did. Leftovers always make a nice breakfast or small lunch for the man. And he can't do without his spices weekly, so at any chance of having Indian food, he would. 

This is lunch, so we didn't bother with alcohol. We had masala chai instead. Unfortunately it was a disappointing pot for S$25. A cup would be S$15. It was cloying more than satisfying, and while elegant with saffron, it overly sweet, and contained too much milk. The table shared ONE dessert. I didn't know what they ordered actually. I didn't bother with it. It was some milk 'cake' jamun with rose and pistachio.