13 August 2008

Super OL

Now that I am officially an OL (Office Lady), let me tell you about the most powerful tool that a Singapore Office Lady has. It is the humble packet of tissues. What? Surely not! you must exclaimed. What ever could a teeny pack of disintergrating tissues do? Well, this!



Kapow!!

Strategically placed, this nondescript packet of tissue just "choped" (reserved, in proper parlance) this seat while the owner joins the queue to get her food. I am always highly amused seeing random packs of tissues, garnishing almost every seat in the food centre. I have to admit that the devil in me is sorely, sorely tempted to just pick up the tissue packs and see the mayhem that will ensue.

For the guy office worker, a sissy pack of tissue won't do. Thank goodness for free newspapers, conveniently given out at said food centre. So we'll see seats with folded newspapers instead.

I am beginning to discover my favourite foods in Singapore, starting with Seah Im Food Centre opposite HarbourFront. One teh tarik after another and we voted this one as our favourite :



Iced Teh Tarik.... the ones served by in the morning are the best.

Fragrant, good grade red tea with no trace of bitterness or overbrewing, skilfully blended with milk and of course, 'tarik' for the froth on top. The hot version is simply delicious with great milk notes but with the iced version, you'll get to taste how fragrant and mellow the tea is - delicate tastes otherwise hidden when your tastebuds are scalded with the hot version.



It is served here at Shamsudeen Tea Coffee Stall; on the side facing the bus interchange. Here is what I had - mee rebus with paru! The mee rebus is nice, although as not as nice as the ones served at Bedok. The paru is lovely and soft - a result of boiling for a long time and not overfried.



I am mad about paru and making up for lost time in London. It is so difficult to get them in London and more difficult to cook them still. Whenever they serve paru either in Nahar or Mawar, I guaranteed it will be the first dish to finish. Serve them any way - fried, with sambal, with veg, I take them all.

7 August 2008

Off to KL!

We are off to KL next week. I have to say I am a little excited! The last time I've been there was some five years ago. We would be meeting some friends on their summer break from London this time round; so it should be good.


I've always love KL. Don't ask me why. Attractions-wise, there is not much to gawk at but I always have fond memories of it. Maybe it is the infectious buzz of the place.


I remember by first time in KL. I was with a big group of uni mates, coming down from Genting Highlands. Whilst they decided to go straight back to Singapore, I was bent on spending a couple of nights alone in KL. My first time ever. My poor pals tried convincing me otherwise but it was just something I had to do.


There I was... A KL virgin, with an orange backpack, in a dodgy hostel, in a rickety shophouse opposite Pudu Raya bus terminal. I was either very brave or very foolish because I opted for a mixed dorm. Ah the bliss of ignorance and youth. The thought that it could be dangerous never cross my mind one single jot.


It was a dim 3 bunk bed room and I secured one of the top bunks, right underneath the airconditioning unit. A wooden locker stood to one side, with a large padlock supposedly to keep your valuables safe but one good kick could have disintergrated the lot. Bed looks clean but the most interesting thing about the room were my room-mates for the next couple of nights.


There was Kwan* (not real name), a HongKong girl who spent her childhood in Brisbane and was backpacking around Asia. And there was Tong, an ex-Buddhist monk. He was in his mid 40s and must have been one of the long time renters. Chatty and with a heart of gold, he took it upon himself to look out for Kwan and I for the short stay.


He gossiped about the other long-term occupants of the hostel. Apparently there was a lot of drug users. "Be careful! Don't eat anything they give you!" was his perilous warning. He gestured to a lower bunk, covered all the way round with a curtain and stage-whispered that the occupant is a transvestite. One that comes back in the early hours of the morning. I didn't have the pleasure of meeting him/her but did see the curtains twitched briefly.


Wandering around KL on my own was exhilarating. No need to make conversation. Just walk in and out. Stop for coffee and people-watch. Stop for a bowl of noodles if you fancy.


One of the things I remember fondly is sitting in the 2nd floor (1st flr to you in UK) of a McDonalds, nursing a coffee and looking out at the horrendous traffic jam outside with pink Bas Mini, looking like iced cakes clogging the arteries.


The other is walking along Petaling Street, looking at cheap shirts and fake watches. The sun was burning hot. And what better way to cool down than to visit this stall.



The famous Air mata kucing stall. For the princely sum of RM1 then, you'll get a cold, cold bowl of refreshing air mata kucing, served in an even colder metal bowl with metal spoon. Locals and tourists alike will stand around, slurping this heavenly concoction before handing the metal bowls back.

On another visit to KL, a friend and I stayed in a hotel at Chow Kit Road. I just love wandering through the colourful market stalls, piled high with fresh produce, with the sellers raising their voices "Ah pilih pilih pilih". The food stalls were a dream! Nasi campur, take as you please, with delicious dishes one after another. I couldn't make up my mind and to be able to dress my own plate of rice, my way, with whatever I please was amazing. I am quite particular about what chicken cuts I get and how much kuah. I simply hate it when some kakak or makcik drown my poor mound of rice with overzealousness.

At night, other stalls set up. A particular one I remembered is the nasi lemak stall, selling classic small packets of nasi lemak. Wrapped up in a banana leaf and a piece of newspaper, it is shaped into the classic pyramid. Inside is warm fluffly rice with a killer sambal, ikan bilis and half an egg. One hand-sized packet is not enough. Nothing is nicer than partaking a packet or two, chatting with your friends and sipping teh tarik under the stars.

Another glorious KL memory was when we supported the Singapore team in the Malaysia Cup Tournament. Up we went in coach and stayed in a dodgy hotel in Brickfields. With a name like Hotel Mexico, we almost expect Speedy Gonzales to come blazing through the door. It was however a tired old hotel with holes in curtains. But it will do. The roti canai sold nearby was simply delicious.

We were looking for transport to Shah Alam and somehow, this pakcik made us part with RM100 to bus us to and fro, dangdut music on high thrown in complimentary. We got there in one piece and had a rip-roaring time, by virtue that Singapore won 4-0 and hoisted the Malaysian Cup. Incidentally, right after that win, a few Malaysian states kicked up a stink and suggested not to allow Singapore to participate in Malaysia cup. Ever.

We waited for the pakcik to pick us up after the match.. and we waited in vain. The pakcik didn't turn up. A volley of curses and swearing later, we got back to KL by sheer luck - by hastily flagging taxi son a very busy highway. Once back in KL, we celebrated Singapore's win and trooped off to a 24hr KFC afterwards. In between biting into Colonel Sander's 11-herbs secret recipe chicken, it dawned upon us how funny it is that one pakcik can smooth talked 7 supposedly smart young adults.

Funnily enough, the next day we were at Chow Kit and bumped straight into him. The guys collared him, with a threatening "Pakcik tipu kita ye? Pakcik pegi mana semalam?" . He said in all earnestness, while stroking his new gold ring "Pakcik carik anak, anak tak ada. Pakcik carik sampai kat airport!" Ah? Kenapa kat airport? Kita tunggu kat Stadium!

My last visit to KL is some 5 years ago and regrettably, the group I went with was more interested in visiting mega malls. It was pretty but rather sterile and frankly, I found is rather similar to shopping in Singapore albeit less squeezy. I didn't get to eat my air mata kucing nor eat classic nasi lemak. So I am hoping I will get to do these next week.

Of moves and grooves

I have plenty to write. Too many. You can't move continents without having a tale to tell.

We are settling down better now; getting into the groove of living in SG. The first few months had been hard mentally. Even though we were born and bred here, we still experienced re-entry shock.

At times, we just wanted to shake our fists at the boorish behaviour here. Like nonchalantly strolling through doors we held often without so much as a thank you, the rushing for trains and buses without due care if grandmas or babies are trampled underneath, the way they try to squeeze through the smallest gap, often overstepping buggies and strollers in their haste.

A well-dressed lady on a bus walked past my seat and accidentally bung her large bag against my knee hard. She gave a cursory glance at her bag and looked away. Until I shamed her by loudly saying "Sorry?" She had the decency to look slightly embarassed and said sorry with a giggle. On hindsight, I got lucky. She could have fixed me a dour expression and looked away again.

Don't get me started on the TV and newspaper here. I've succumbed to subscribing to newsbiscuit.com for a much-needed dose of British humour as well as trawling through metro.co.uk. Come back free newspaper vendors! All is forgiven.

At times, we just miss London. The cold, fresh air, lovely blooms in spring and gorgeous colours in fall. The way the British would run out to tan in a small patch of sunshine during lunch time. The lovely, lovely parks and the fantastic museums. Strangely, I missed the kebabs at Taza and of course, Tuk Din's great cooking.

On the other hand, I am loving all the delicious local food, available 24/7. Mind you, our tastes have changed somewhat. No more dunking chips in chilli sauce for us. But we are having fun trying to find our favourite nasi lemak, teh tarik, briyani etc. again.

We are revelling in durian, durian and more durian. Perhaps some manggis for distraction and durian again. It seems to be a bumper crop this year with D24 selling cheap. With such largesse, we are now not content with poor cheap varieties, gladly shelling out moolah for top notch stuff. Frozen durian at $12 per seed is a very distant memory now.

In all, this is where we will be for the near future. Alia is speaking a little Malay now, which amuses me to no end. Her lovely British accent is slipping little by little and I felt both shock and horror when she told me one day "Mummy, I love Tom and Jelly"