The Sugar Thing

There are two types of people in this world: one who drinks coffee, and one who drinks tea. And maybe there’s another type who only drinks chocolate. I’m the latter. I prefer a steaming cup of melted chocolate over latte or chai anytime. But this morning, I ran out of cocoa for breakfast. After rummaging through everything in the kitchen, I found some teabags. They were organic bamboo tea. Better than nothing, I thought. I brewed my tea, poured into my favorite mug and mixed in a dollop of honey and a few stevia leaves. The stevia’s from my garden. Its leaves are nature’s own sugarcubes. You can even eat them on their own. This drink, in the end, tasted mildly sweet and comforting (making me thisclose to leaving good old chocolate for tea leaves).

Seafood Chronicle

For an early celebration of the Lunar New Year, my half and I went for some Chinese food for dinner. We wanted to have yong tao foo (stuffed beancurd) with soup at first. By chance, we stumbled upon an old seafood restaurant instead. The place had a humbling and nostalgic ambience, much to my delight. Just a few steps from where we were seated stood many aquaria-like tanks with swimming fish, lobsters, king crabs and other sea goodness. I dared not stare into the eyes of those fish for too long as I might meet either one of them on my plate. Alas, we settled for a giant tilapia cooked in Peranakan-style kapitan sauce and some fried kangkung belacan (water spinach with shrimp paste). Honestly, it was the best kapitan sauce I’ve ever had. We washed everything down with freshly-brewed Chinese tea. After the meal, we headed out for a drive around town to find more films to watch. The Chinese lanterns were lit up everywhere, illuminating the roads we were on. The night felt magical; I could see hope for prosperity in this little place we call home.

An Academic Diet

Breakfasts in bed are dreamy in notion. Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up from a dream, only to have your beloved presenting you with a tray of toasts, crispy bacon and freshly squeezed juice? Similarly, albeit a lot less romantic, I had my breakfast in bed with…a bunch of books. On top of my list right now are books on digital culture, which serves as the basis for the PhD project I intend to embark on. Like most academic books, they’re a bit on the dull side. But the developing theories on identities and bodies in cyberspace are nothing short of fascinating.

When Life Gives You Lemons

Earlier this morning, my half and I drove around the entire neighborhood in search of soda.  It was past midnight and the rest of the world seemed fast asleep. After driving through different sections, we finally came upon 7 Eleven and got ourselves what we wanted. Satisfied, we drank our ice-cold soda with sliced lemons. There's a story behind our sudden craving, though. A few hours before the search, we were amusing ourselves with some of the most controversial TV commercials found online. Our favorite was Sprite. The advert involved a man, a woman and unmentionable body fluids in the bedroom. We thought nobody of sound mind would be swayed to buy the drink! But after watching a few more naughty commercials and laughing so hard at each, we ended up bone-tired and thirsty. The first thing that landed in our minds was…you guessed it. The commercial worked like magic.

PS Our little late-night adventure reads a bit like Haruki Murakami’s short story.

Birthday Night

One of my family’s traditions for birthdays is to hold a dinner gathering with our partners invited. I had mine at Latest Recipe, a fancy hotel resto with my ma, sister, her man and my better half (who “serendipitiously” as he called it, wore baby blue tie that matched the blouse I was wearing). That moment was my favorite. We had lively conversations at the dinner table over good food (the teriyaki meat was, to say the least, divine). I look forward to being a year older and spending more good times like this with those I love. 

The Particular Happiness of a Birthday Cake

I’m proud to have baked my own birthday cake this year. It feels very grown-up to have done so. I call it the Betty Crockeresque rite of passage to being autonomous. The homemade cake bowled over my family the most. For a hint of variation, I put in chunks of pineapples into the batter alongside the carrots. While I usually enjoy the cake with good old whipped crème, I chose buttersweet frosting instead for a more traditional vibe. The sugar melted deliciously into the warm crevices of the cake. It was rich, tart and slightly nutty from the carrots. Above all, it tasted good. The candles were the only ones missing, really. I didn’t miss those much though. After all, twenty eight candles are a bit too many to blow ;)

Salmon Pink

I’ve had a lifelong affair with salmon. I first tasted the fish when I was living in London as a child. It was a smoked salmon sandwich with a thick slice of cheddar to savor with. As I bit into the sandwich, I imagined the salmon as ham. Both share that same intense pinkness. I was the only child in school who practiced eating kosher. The rest brought their ham sandwiches for lunch. So I guess that explains the odd imagining. That was almost twenty years ago. I remember the story perfectly as I prepared dinner on the eve of my birthday. I had fresh salmon chunks with me in the kitchen. I whipped up my very first pan-fried salmon with lemon parsley sauce. Did I mention that I wore my pearls and little black dress as I chop and fry? I succeeded with the apron as my witness. I invited my half over for dinner and our night looked like this. Nothing tastes better than adulthood.

Let Me Have Cake

A Thoughtful Free

The littlest gestures mean the most. For instance, today, my cubicle-mate J. offered me her spicy alfredo pasta for lunch and dinner. It may not be photogenic here but it tasted hot and delectable. J. is hands down the sweetest and most thoughtful colleague you could ever have.

Veg Lover

I consider myself lucky for having a partner who gives delightful surprises every now and then. Today, my half came over and took care of all the things in the kitchen for a late lunch. The man’s a fabulous cook-- the kind who takes pleasure wielding knives, chopping onions and squeezing the pulp out of lemons. He made sure I eat all the colorful vegetables that I'd stuffed in the fridge (but never touched). They tasted heaven.

PS You must be wondering about the dirt on my palm. That's just mascara.