The missus suggested that we head into Orchard Road yesterday to do some shopping, and I of course, had to agree. While we were preparing to set out, I suddenly remembered that I still had a pair of vouchers for Korean BBQ. I dug them out and discovered that they had yet to expire. So we decided that there was no time like the present to put them to use. Since there were only two of them, I'd have to pay for our daughter's share of the meal, but that was okay.
When we arrived, it was still early, and the restuarant was still setting up. So we wandered about the shops there, and I took the opportunity to scrutinize the vouchers. That's when I realized that it was a Sunday, and if accompanying a paying adult, a child dines for free! And the vouchers entitled us to the same deal! How wonderful!
Needless to say, the three of us stuffed ourselves silly with the beef & chicken & lamb therein. And the daughter enjoyed herself thoroughly with the ice-cream thereafter.
A good day.
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food. Show all posts
Monday, 19 September 2011
Friday, 11 January 2008
Substitutes
Strangely, I am in a rather good mood today.
Strange, because I have a seriously heavy schedule today.
Lagi strange, since the weekend is around the corner and that's even more hectic than work-days.
What can possibly account for my jolly-jolly-happy buzz?
The rapidly-depleting bottle of gummi-bears on my desk? Have to eat them up now that I've exposed them to air. They'll get sticky (and icky) otherwise. Chew, chew, chew. Gulp.
The stockpile of 'back-up rations' chocolate in the second drawer of my desk, conveniently located close to my right hand? Oops, expiry date approaching. Better finish them up and get a new stash. Ah! The dark stuff! Munch, munch. Yum.
Lunch time? Yes, it's approaching. But I'm an adult; I'm entitled to ruin my appetite!
Sugar high? Maybe. But it won't stop me from enjoying it while it lasts.
Joy has a sweet tooth.
Joy is a sweet tooth.
Strange, because I have a seriously heavy schedule today.
Lagi strange, since the weekend is around the corner and that's even more hectic than work-days.
What can possibly account for my jolly-jolly-happy buzz?
The rapidly-depleting bottle of gummi-bears on my desk? Have to eat them up now that I've exposed them to air. They'll get sticky (and icky) otherwise. Chew, chew, chew. Gulp.
The stockpile of 'back-up rations' chocolate in the second drawer of my desk, conveniently located close to my right hand? Oops, expiry date approaching. Better finish them up and get a new stash. Ah! The dark stuff! Munch, munch. Yum.
Lunch time? Yes, it's approaching. But I'm an adult; I'm entitled to ruin my appetite!
Sugar high? Maybe. But it won't stop me from enjoying it while it lasts.
Joy has a sweet tooth.
Joy is a sweet tooth.
Monday, 26 November 2007
Smells, Part 2
The world has become a more tolerable place after breakfast.
The consumption of a bowl of curry chicken noodles has definitely improved my disposition, if the looks of relief among my crew are to be believed. It has also helped to mask the flavour that has been assailing my nostrils the whole journey to the place where I am employed. I did not think that such a small change would have such an effect on me, after all, it was merely a citrus scent that has been replaced by something more .... flowery. Thank heaven for spice!
Come to think of it, I suppose it should have been no surprise. Alchemy has always shown that the slightest change to a formula would give rise to entirely different results. Of course, the boil-a-frog theory also predicts that my discomfort shall pass as my nostrils become acclimatized to the new smell. Just as it has become accustomed to the pungence of the bleach I use to clean my bathroom, or the fetor of my daughter's soil diapers.
On that last item, I am pleased to announce that she is, for the large part, toilet-trained. I am taking no chances while she sleeps or when we go on long drives, of course. I have also learned to interpret her little dance-on-the-spot moves: swinging her arms means she is just enjoying herself, while stamping and twisting (unaccompanied by arm movements) means she need to pee. Ah, what a proud father I am!
It was just two weeks ago that she took part in a mini-concert with the rest of her playgroup; a chance for the nursery school to showcase what they have been teaching the children, and to reassure parents that our lucre has not been squandered. As I observed to the missus then, I could not help but notice how all of us parents were alike. When our child came up with her class to do their song and dance, our eyes were drawn to our daughter and our daughter alone! Had it not been for the modern conveniences like digital cameras and handphone videos, I would have absolutely no idea what the other children were doing during the whole time! And every parent suffered from that same narrow field of concentration.
Naturally, I was also acting as a critic.
Item: motor-skills - within normal parameters;
Item: sense of timing - able to keep time with pre-recorded music;
Item: stage presence - constant smile and some mild flirting with the audience;
Item: understanding of the song - good for those in English, with occasional bloopers for those in Mandarin.
Overall performance: easily in the top ten percentile.
It helped that some of the others in her class were inept. No, I am not being harsh or biased against them. They were hopeless. Two boys did nothing but stand, staring blankly out at the crowd. Stage fright? Perhaps. Then there was the girl that hid her face in her hands and did not even try to acknowledge her parents. Clearly suffering from a bout of shy.
Is this how it begins? This comparison of genetic load? My child versus the rest of them? Where does this lead? Does this mean I have begun sliding down the slippery slope of 'how can you score lower that XXXXX in spelling? You must study harder' parental expectations? Am I becoming my father?
I hope not.
The consumption of a bowl of curry chicken noodles has definitely improved my disposition, if the looks of relief among my crew are to be believed. It has also helped to mask the flavour that has been assailing my nostrils the whole journey to the place where I am employed. I did not think that such a small change would have such an effect on me, after all, it was merely a citrus scent that has been replaced by something more .... flowery. Thank heaven for spice!
Come to think of it, I suppose it should have been no surprise. Alchemy has always shown that the slightest change to a formula would give rise to entirely different results. Of course, the boil-a-frog theory also predicts that my discomfort shall pass as my nostrils become acclimatized to the new smell. Just as it has become accustomed to the pungence of the bleach I use to clean my bathroom, or the fetor of my daughter's soil diapers.
On that last item, I am pleased to announce that she is, for the large part, toilet-trained. I am taking no chances while she sleeps or when we go on long drives, of course. I have also learned to interpret her little dance-on-the-spot moves: swinging her arms means she is just enjoying herself, while stamping and twisting (unaccompanied by arm movements) means she need to pee. Ah, what a proud father I am!
It was just two weeks ago that she took part in a mini-concert with the rest of her playgroup; a chance for the nursery school to showcase what they have been teaching the children, and to reassure parents that our lucre has not been squandered. As I observed to the missus then, I could not help but notice how all of us parents were alike. When our child came up with her class to do their song and dance, our eyes were drawn to our daughter and our daughter alone! Had it not been for the modern conveniences like digital cameras and handphone videos, I would have absolutely no idea what the other children were doing during the whole time! And every parent suffered from that same narrow field of concentration.
Naturally, I was also acting as a critic.
Item: motor-skills - within normal parameters;
Item: sense of timing - able to keep time with pre-recorded music;
Item: stage presence - constant smile and some mild flirting with the audience;
Item: understanding of the song - good for those in English, with occasional bloopers for those in Mandarin.
Overall performance: easily in the top ten percentile.
It helped that some of the others in her class were inept. No, I am not being harsh or biased against them. They were hopeless. Two boys did nothing but stand, staring blankly out at the crowd. Stage fright? Perhaps. Then there was the girl that hid her face in her hands and did not even try to acknowledge her parents. Clearly suffering from a bout of shy.
Is this how it begins? This comparison of genetic load? My child versus the rest of them? Where does this lead? Does this mean I have begun sliding down the slippery slope of 'how can you score lower that XXXXX in spelling? You must study harder' parental expectations? Am I becoming my father?
I hope not.
Thursday, 9 August 2007
Hunger
This is not a food blog.
I make that statement up front because I shall be delving into Food at length. Having been tasked to work on a holiday - yes, I have been given substantial amounts of leave just to make up for this eventuality - and being separated from the rest of my colleagues who were unfortunate enough to share my curse, I find that I have been abandoned to my own devices regarding food. And since I am not permitted to leave my post, I am forced to rely on the goodwill of those about me:
Um, you going to get food? Yes? Good, can get some for me too? What do I want to eat? Dunno. What are you getting for yourself? Same thing, lor.
Yes, when begging for favours, ettiquette demands that you do not make too outrageous demands. Even when you are craving for something happy and festive, to go along with the holiday (WHICH YOU WILL NOT BE ENJOYING!).
Sigh.
What I really want is this as a starter. Followed by perhaps, this. And finally, for desert, a double scoop of vanilla ice-cream. Yes! Vanilla! Got a problem with that?!
I'm not a civil blogger when I'm starved of the things that I crave. Perhaps I am making it worse for myself by surfing all these food blogs. Then again, it is far better that thinking about my current situation:
Being a one-man contingency(!!!) is utterly depressing in itself. Even more depressing is the fact that you are sitting in a bloody windowless room with no-one but your terminal for company, when the rest of the country is having a bloody good time out on the bay. And that the head honchos in the Tech department has blocked all video streaming, so you can't see what the hell is going on out there. Big, bloody hell!
So what is a man to do? Switch off the part of my brain that concerns itself with work, and the near impossibility of something going wrong, for one.
But that brings my attention to another part of my anatomy. The stomach demands attention (since it is not getting food). So I dream about what I would rather be eating, instead of the fried hokkien mee that I am most likely to get in about a half-hour's time.
Sigh again.
So it's off to the food blogs. Hey, if I can't eat it, I can at least think about it. Then there are all those blogs with the wonderful pictures - not only think about it, I can now see what it looks like! BTW, the Traveler's Lunchbox is the bane of anyone on a diet. Take a look. See what I mean? Chocolate & Zucchini isn't very far behind either. Damn! My stomach's growling again.
Worst of all, there's not a beer to be had. Nor whisky. Nor anything vaguely alcoholic. Even my third favourite (and politically acceptable, on the basis of its caffeine content) is unavailable.
This is hell.
I make that statement up front because I shall be delving into Food at length. Having been tasked to work on a holiday - yes, I have been given substantial amounts of leave just to make up for this eventuality - and being separated from the rest of my colleagues who were unfortunate enough to share my curse, I find that I have been abandoned to my own devices regarding food. And since I am not permitted to leave my post, I am forced to rely on the goodwill of those about me:
Um, you going to get food? Yes? Good, can get some for me too? What do I want to eat? Dunno. What are you getting for yourself? Same thing, lor.
Yes, when begging for favours, ettiquette demands that you do not make too outrageous demands. Even when you are craving for something happy and festive, to go along with the holiday (WHICH YOU WILL NOT BE ENJOYING!).
Sigh.
What I really want is this as a starter. Followed by perhaps, this. And finally, for desert, a double scoop of vanilla ice-cream. Yes! Vanilla! Got a problem with that?!
I'm not a civil blogger when I'm starved of the things that I crave. Perhaps I am making it worse for myself by surfing all these food blogs. Then again, it is far better that thinking about my current situation:
Being a one-man contingency(!!!) is utterly depressing in itself. Even more depressing is the fact that you are sitting in a bloody windowless room with no-one but your terminal for company, when the rest of the country is having a bloody good time out on the bay. And that the head honchos in the Tech department has blocked all video streaming, so you can't see what the hell is going on out there. Big, bloody hell!
So what is a man to do? Switch off the part of my brain that concerns itself with work, and the near impossibility of something going wrong, for one.
But that brings my attention to another part of my anatomy. The stomach demands attention (since it is not getting food). So I dream about what I would rather be eating, instead of the fried hokkien mee that I am most likely to get in about a half-hour's time.
Sigh again.
So it's off to the food blogs. Hey, if I can't eat it, I can at least think about it. Then there are all those blogs with the wonderful pictures - not only think about it, I can now see what it looks like! BTW, the Traveler's Lunchbox is the bane of anyone on a diet. Take a look. See what I mean? Chocolate & Zucchini isn't very far behind either. Damn! My stomach's growling again.
Worst of all, there's not a beer to be had. Nor whisky. Nor anything vaguely alcoholic. Even my third favourite (and politically acceptable, on the basis of its caffeine content) is unavailable.
This is hell.
Wednesday, 20 June 2007
Chocolate
I am eating far too much chocolate for my own good. Of course, I have tried to offset the ill effects with greater amounts of physical exercise and a higher degree of restraint at mealtimes. Still, it worries me that I am gradually sliding down this slippery slope into addiction: quite frankly, my brain refuses to work without suitable gastronomical stimulation, and chocolate is the handiest food substance to keep around.
Sigh.
Sigh.
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