Truffles and More

Truffles and More

It may have been almost two weeks gone by, but I still have the taste of truffles lingering on my tastebuds. I had my maiden experience with black autumn truffles -- shaved on a subtle cream based angle hair pasta, with perfectly grilled tiger prawns -- at Le Papillon. I sent my compliments to the chef through the head waiter.

I honestly had set my expectations high. So many had raved about truffles and it was more than a pinch at the pocket at S$60 a serving. I did something quite nerdy too in anticipation -- I googled for truffles, hoping to get a literary preview of what people said of tasting these rare tubers. Nothing but unsubstantiated raves, I'm afraid.

We went on a relatively non-crowded evening to this small and cozy cafe. Not many other patrons, hence not much cooking needs to be done. But the dining area was filled with a strong musk of truffles (we discovered later only three people were having truffles but it was strong enough to cover the room). When my dish finally came, I could confirm the smell earlier and each bite was sinfully-heavenly. It was earthy, it was rich and it felt warm. When you factor in the anticipation, it was almost intoxicating. I just did not want to talk anymore (an activity I really enjoy at dinner, mind you) and did not feel like sharing either! I did not know whether it was the ingredient or the chef, but I could give up half a lifetime of Penang hawker food if I could have truffles every now and then.

Truffle oil is hardly a comparison or even a mere suggestion for truffle slices. It is not yet a full blown craving, but I do hope to be experiencing them soon again during my Saigon trip, or with some persuasion to the beau for another romantic dinner involving French cuisine.

The past weeks have also been interesting for the Singapore Writers' Festival. It was fun meeting the people behind pens, and for seeking inspired new reads. Being at the right place at the right time, I had a 20 minute *tête-à-tête with a once controversial, great writer. I was a little stumped at introductions, but I finally went with "aspiring speech writer -- currently in training". Goh Poh Seng, unlike his rather intimidating form with the younger writers and usual SG crowd who could not ask intelligent questions, said most modestly that it is most challenging to write for others. He wished me good luck and then asked who my *clients were (!). In a joking tone, he had also warned me that speechwriting is not at all going to be like what I envisage from the West Wing. We carried on to talk about Malaysia and about Penang. He misses the food and I my family. But how I wished I could have this conversation many years after -- when I am possibly more established and possibly have read some of his work. In the meantime, I could have been another one of those lousy question ask-ers.

But I think the most exciting joint experience for Jules and myself would be asking Tan Twan Eng to autograph our books. First up was a very gushy me (*Jules, perhaps it wasn't Eng's popularity, but rather, I find him cuter and more charming each time I see his picture) asking to autograph Julian's coffee stained book (my fault). He noted something along the lines of "coffee stains ease the pains". I'm sorry but I still don't get that. Do you? And in the second book for *Winky, he signed "don't let *Damsel spill coffee on this book".

For *Jules too he must have had a good time. We believe the love of his life should have the form, talent and charm of the very lovely Ms Madeleine Thien of the book, Certainty.

For my short sessions there also, I think I've learned invaluable lessons about writing and the passion for writing. First, I really am not reading as much as I need to be, and second, rewriting/revision needs to be a joy rather than the pain it is right now. And it a most twisted, unexpected yet crystal clear outcome, is that I think I am ready to go back and do my masters now.

As for Tan Twan Eng's book... it really would be a highly recommended book by me. Heck, it could easily be one of my shortlists of sorts. When a key character died and left a letter, I was tearing in the midst of a crowded train. Waterworks part two almost happened at the death of my other favorite character. *Jules may have complained about too many akido references, but it adds richly to the story and does not distract. It was a combination of story line, very strong characters (one writer at SWF pointed out, if you know your character well, we don't have to say things like "her favourite colour is pink", etc) and beautiful culture. Nonetheless, it wasn't always that combination I look for -- historical novels are sometimes a bore, and I am sometimes airhead enough to want to know her favourite colour. And for those who know me, I almost always want a female protagonist or a female author. What was Eng's winning quality, really, was his ability to say precisely the scene, the emotion and the subtext all in very few words. I kinda think the beauty of Mandarin is like that (precisely a word for each little nuance) and not at all like my lengthy rambling in today's carefree writing (unedited!!!).