Goodbye Saigon, Goodbye Kuala Lumpur
Hello Singapore, Hello 2008
I'm back from KL and with massive food poisoning. I guess the nasi lemak (plus 6 other side dishes) for dinner did not survive the long bus ride and is not an idea for recycling. For what it is worth, dinner was delicious.
The 2 day trip back home was a full week's worth of activity. I reunited with family members, and I bought enough things to fill up two whole racks in our cupboard of gifts for *Gallant's family when we visit Shanghai next year. Gifts include an elegant one-piece hand carved walking stick for his grandfather; diabetic jams, biscuits, vanilla powder, chocolate, etc for his grandmother; Malay inspired batik, tudung saji and wayang kulits; and all types of rempahs for them to try out Malaysian style cooking. From Saigon, gifts include large replicas -- all hand painted, all-year lanterns and Saigon coffee. We'll still need to get some M&S bath sets, story books for cousins, food stuff gift baskets and his-her watches for his maternal grandparents 45 year anniversary.
Saigon was beautiful. Others may say it is incomparable, but to give those of you who have not been to this city yet, I feel it is like Penang in flavour, Thailand minus tourist and Sarawak in its development. Motorcycles swarm the streets, practically outnumbering cars by about 30 to 1 and the city is just full of the nicest, most hospitable people down to the lady selling hot egg-rolls at the market. It was sweltering heat, and you risk your life crossing the street each time but it is worth it for a bowl of simple, but hearty pho noodles.
At Saigon, I saw the a Chinese temple with the most character, witnessed a Caodai prayer and climbed down the Cu Chi tunnels that played a significant part in the Vietnam War. This was also the closest encounter I had with Communism style feminism I've read from text books -- to see this alive in the propaganda, women soldiers in the museums and videos, and of course, so many women working the streets and holding their right as equals. It is definitely a different culture and respect for women we see here than in Malaysia in general. Other than his and her toilets, there was no further separation necessary.
Love was also evident in the young Vietnamese. Never have I seen a lovers park more deserving of its name. Although you do not see couples holding hands or kissing anywhere else in Vietnam, it is unmissable in a very friendly, affectionate and warm population.
Overall, it was a fantasitc visit to Saigon, worthy of a 'wow' and with nice travel-mates like *Fongky and *Jules (well, it would have been nicer if he was not grumpy and sarcastic at times). Makes me look forward to visiting, seeing and loving more of Asia in the near future.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
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!!!).
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!!!).
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
the wedding dress
Wedding Dress
No intention of freaking the boy out, but I actually went looking for a wedding dress online. There is no use asking or guessing why. It is prolly just a girl thing.
When I finally walk the isle, I want to wear this. Recreating it would be great fun in itself and I envisage a whole Audrey Hepburn looks-simple-but-took-a-lot-of-effort grace to it.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Lady AP
Lady of the Manor: Adventures of Agent Provocateur in the morning
*Click* here. Right now. Do as I say or prepare to be whipped.
=) I doubt I'm very effective as a dominatrix. But do go see. I wish more advertisement are as creative and titillating as this (of course, spare it from work hours and if kids are around!)
And Maggie Gyllenhaal, from Secretary, as Lady AP? Yum!
*Click* here. Right now. Do as I say or prepare to be whipped.
=) I doubt I'm very effective as a dominatrix. But do go see. I wish more advertisement are as creative and titillating as this (of course, spare it from work hours and if kids are around!)
And Maggie Gyllenhaal, from Secretary, as Lady AP? Yum!
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
No need for ceremony!
A Different Kind of Green Grass
Today, I really am starting to wonder where is worst. The old job had not a single care for values but gave me so much freedom to just get the job done.
This new one is all about ceremony. While I celebrate the fact that I'm finally in a task where I explore my creative side -- I am really tired by the CC protocol of emails, constant agonizing of tone of the emails to colleagues, hierarchy matters, utter disregard for timelines (guessing games, more like it -- you finish it when I think you should, or in Big Boss' case, when I decide I need it), uptight PAs, and CIA-level secrecy and how you have to be hushed a million zillion times if you're told something. People here speak in code and expect you to read their minds. How can the creative side flourish like that lah I ask you! To those who think working *here is an easy, nurturing environment -- boy, are you wrong.
I'm already a superbly paranoid, hyper sensitive person. Under this congested situation my levels of hypersensitivity and paranoia are off the charts. Perhaps this is a day worse than others, but gosh am I perturbed!
Then again, I have not cried a single time compared to my last *master. I guess that must be a good sign.
Today, I really am starting to wonder where is worst. The old job had not a single care for values but gave me so much freedom to just get the job done.
This new one is all about ceremony. While I celebrate the fact that I'm finally in a task where I explore my creative side -- I am really tired by the CC protocol of emails, constant agonizing of tone of the emails to colleagues, hierarchy matters, utter disregard for timelines (guessing games, more like it -- you finish it when I think you should, or in Big Boss' case, when I decide I need it), uptight PAs, and CIA-level secrecy and how you have to be hushed a million zillion times if you're told something. People here speak in code and expect you to read their minds. How can the creative side flourish like that lah I ask you! To those who think working *here is an easy, nurturing environment -- boy, are you wrong.
I'm already a superbly paranoid, hyper sensitive person. Under this congested situation my levels of hypersensitivity and paranoia are off the charts. Perhaps this is a day worse than others, but gosh am I perturbed!
Then again, I have not cried a single time compared to my last *master. I guess that must be a good sign.
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