Malosa Me

I fell sick last weekend, down with a sore throat, cough and fever - just as I was thinking to myself I hardly took a MC, perhaps once every 2 years. It could be the birthday rochers or the overdose of pork knuckles but perhaps it was my body telling me to slow down. The week had been hectic too; tasting after tasting at the same ristorante (I want to vomitare already from eating the same food!) and preparing for the upcoming cat photo exhibition next Tuesday.

Finalmente everything was in place and I was beaming with pride as the last of the 29 photos went up at The Moomba upstairs. Each cat peered back at me, their woogie furry faces captured in their feline resplendence. I really hoped that everyone'd like it as much as I did. A local newspaper expressed interest in reviewing it (stress!) while the national daily has confirmed listing it next Thursday. Hopefully through this simple shoestring-budget exercise, more people will look at animals especially strays in a different light and with a more sympathetic eye. Animals deserve a place in this world as much as humans.

Buon compleanno di nuovo

I hate my birthdays. The thought of getting older always makes me sick to the gut and pulls my spirits down. Two months ago, eager beaver me was actually planning to have a party at a bhangra bar but as the day drew closer, the idea of a low key no-pressure affair won. So last Friday was spent at Gotham screaming our throats hoarse at the stripping hunky dory dancers. We also paid the hottest dude S to do a private lapdance on Ames who'd be leaving S'pore for Melbourne soon - a last dance she'd never forget. All of us ended up laughing and pissing in our pants as she was terrorised by S who grabbed her hair and pushed her face to his sweaty naked chest and crotch.

The next day, my classmates went to la festa di A (who was celebrating his 2nd year in S'pore - apparently as a Brazilian, he'd jump at celebrating everything) and then we ended up at a Hindi bar at Circular Road. For those who have never been to an Indian bar, go! It's great fun jiggling and clapping to the Bollywood soundtracks and observing how the nubile dancers flirt with the customers. One of whom was so drunk and had perhaps failed to notice that his member was poking through a well-positioned gap in his pants.

Si, I thought it was the whisky playing tricks on my eyes so I elbowed Q next to me and asked her 'Is that a left ball?' She took a look and in all seriousness said 'No, a testicle is darker. That is his *knowing look*.' Deliberate or not, we had been flashed. Nice. We had a 'ball' of a time nonetheless! On Sunday, F cooked up a storm to celebrate our 32nd birthdays (me and her hubby) and I had double servings of the cioccolato rum torta. Hmmm. As I blew out the candle and made a wish, I prayed that it'd come true like my wish a year ago (the scholarship lah)! Pray hard for me that I'd have the cake and eat it too.

On the actual day on lunedi, I got a shocker when 2 bouquets of flowers arrived for me at work - one from Cris, my Romanian pal (xie xie ni!) and another from sweet Ames. The girls also ambushed me with a song and gave me a lovely hamper of Italian cibo e vino! Che simpatiche! All day I also got sms greetings from friends but the ultimate shocker was when A called from Spoleto. I nearly fainted when I saw his incoming call flashing on my cell. He actually remembered! Madonna!

I was so nervous I promptly forgot all my italiano when I heard his warm familiar voice on the other line, saying 'Tanti auguri! E' oggi, no?' (Many wishes, it's today no?) When I told him 'ho vinto la borsa di studio', his reply was 'che bravissima' and we arranged to meet up this settembre. Elena, la mia cara ragazza, also sms me and had kindly sent a novel; un romanzo 'Cercasi Niki Disperatamente' di Federico Moccia. Spero che possa capirlo!

Macau at last

We were debating whether to go to Macau; sis and I felt it'd be far too crowded and too much of a hassle to go there to see a bunch of casinos and jostle with gamblers whereas gran wanted to see it while she still could and mom had promised her colleagues a truckload of Macau goodies. We swang from a tentative 'yes' to a 'no' to a 'yes' again in the end because it was something that needed to be done and to prove a point - whether it was worth it.

So on Sunday, we got up to an early start and made our way to the Central area for dim sum breakfast at a loud, bustling 'Lin Heung Teahouse' - not far from Yung Kee restaurant on Wellington Street. We managed to find space at a table among 5 locals who were reading the papers and sipping hot black chinese tea (served from a bigger cup to a smaller one). Sis' colleague had recommended it as an authentic local joint and true enough, we found it charming and the food delicious and cheap.

There was no menu but the pushcarts where you could point to the bamboo baskets of goodies and the aunties would just bring them to your table. Besides the usual suspects like 'siew mai', 'har gao' and 'char sao bao', we also lapped up the steamed chicken feet (mom and gran), steamed pork liver (hmmm me) and glorious 'chee cheong fan' slathered in soya sauce. We were seriously addicted to this.

Satiated, we made our way to the HK-Macau ferry terminal to board the 10.40am Turbo Jet (HK$150/ S$30) which was comfortable, save for the stanky gambler next to us who was reeking of beer. An hour later, we found an insanely crowded customs and had to fought the loud mainland Chinese tourists who were trying to cut our queue. Once out, we grabbed a map off the tourist counter and hopped into a cab (HK$20) to 'Xin Ma Lu' aka Avenida de Almeida Ribeiro in the historic centre.

Here, Portugese was the de facto lingua because Macau had been a Portugese colony since the 16th century. Administered by Portugal only until the handover in 1999 lately, it was the oldest European colony in China. Before coming, I had read news report and saw travel shows on its glitzy casinos (including the new Venetian) so I was kinda expecting a gambling mecca short on charms but surprisingly my sis and I found the historic town quaint and cosy much like those in Spain (I haven't been to Portugal lah).

In fact the historic centre which housed 28 historic monuments and 8 public squares, was deemed a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. Our first stop was at the famous postcard-perfect landmark, Senado Square, with its swirly-patterned mosaiced piazza, fontana and colourful surrounding architecture. Mom was anxious to buy the local "lao po" (granny) biscuits so we walked around aimlessly for half an hour in the freakin' heat.

We also spotted the butter-yellow facade of St Dominic's Church amidst the small lanes of shops and cosy cafes. There were two old drinking fountains that led us to a quaint piazza which somehow reminded me of Valencia and Figueres. Lost, we backed up to the crowded Senado Square again before finally locating a busy gourmet shop that had all kinds of Macau specialties including Portuguese-style egg tarts, bbq sweet meats, crispy pork skin and biscuits.

I wasn't a big fan of egg tarts but hey, I had to try it now since it originated from here. It was better than I recalled; a moist, thick fragrant centre with a nice flaky crust. After we loaded up on the goodies, we then made our way to the backlane stalls along the Rua dos Mercadores and bought clothes (S$2 each!) for our baby cousins. There was so much character with every corner that sis and I were planning our next trip to explore more of Macau.

With no clue as to where to eat, we wandered around untill we were satisfied with the menu at Quinella cafe that offered Macau dishes such as its signature pork chop rice with a light curry sauce, B-4 pork bun and noodles in fish soup. They had pork chop with everything such as spaghetti (in a bizarre ketchupy sauce), baked rice and in salads. Smoking was allowed in the air-conditioned eatery so you could imagine our eyes tearing as the customers lit up at the next table!

Before we knew it, it was almost 3pm. Time flies when you're having fun! Gran had wanted to check out the casinos but we had reserved seats on the 4.30pm ferry so our last stop was at the Ruins of the Church of St Paul. To get there, we fought through the crowds along Rua de S. Paulo who were enticed by the shopkeepers touting their delicious snacks. As a result, Mom bought more almond biscuits and granny biscuits!

By the time we got to the foot of St Paul's, we were weighted down by so many bags of food. Sis and I climbed up the stairway and what's left of the imposing facade for a view of Macau's old quarters. Ruinas de Igreja São Paulo was apparently a Jesuit church built in the 17th century by Japanese refugees who fled anti-Christian persecution in Nagasaki. In 1835, a fire destroyed all except the facade, mosaiced floor and stairway.

From up there, we could spot gran among the crowds thro' our lens and we also witnessed the beautiful late afternoon sunrays shining dramatically through the thick fleece of clouds. Macau was wonderfully tranquil from that spot and we agreed it far exceeded our expectations. Sadly we didn't have enough time to explore the rest of it but at least we came, saw and were convinced to return again - all in due time.

HK On Heat

Summer in HK was no joke. The temperature soared, and combined with the mad crowds and concrete jungle (where are the trees?!), I was not a very happy cat. The only thing that motivated me to leave the airconditioned apartment was the food - in particular the dim sum, and boy did I enjoy them. On the 2nd morning in HK, gran and mamma got up early to buy chee cheong fan which was freshly made downstairs. The old man poured a scoop of watery flour batter onto a flat basket steamer, and in a matter of minutes he cut it up, stuffed and rolled each piece expertly. Why couldn't we have this in S'pore?

Anyway our first stop was at the 'Tian Hou' temple nearby, which was gazetted the oldest building in that area. We offered our prayers to the deities and tried not to lose our patience over the rude ladies there. It still puzzled me why some locals still remained so hostile and unpleasant especially at the street level, even though the general service standard at the malls and restaurants had gone up. Being here for 2 months now, my sis advised us to be stern with these incorrigible bad eggs and don't let them affect our mood.

We took the metro to Mongkok and were promptly soothed by the excellent dim sum and service at the elegant Ming Court restaurant in Langham Place Hotel (which sis reviewed). True to her word, the custard buns were da bomb; molten golden yellow custard tinged with delicious salty egg yolks encased in fluffy white bun! We were so orgasmic over each mouthful we ordered 2 baskets and devoured 3 buns each. Now that's sisterly joy.

At high noon, we skipped over to the nearby open-air Ladies Market - a mistake - because it was unpleasantly hot and crowded, plus the vendors had no humour at the bargaining game. For someone who's very patient and chatty, my mom was very turned off by their attitude and switched off eventually. So we seeked refuge in the mall where we slurped up some chilled fruity desserts and then stopped over at the supermercato for groceries. Sis was craving for some homecooked food so I decided to whip up dinner in her small kitchen.

The only problem was a lack of dining table and chairs but that was easily solved as we tucked into the porridge, chicken stew, fried vegs with prawns and the tiniest baby kidney mangoes on our cosy sofa bed. At sunset, the eagles came out to play and soared high in the skies. They kept us entertained till 8pm when the city put on its daily show of lights and fireworks on both shores to mark HK's 10th year since the handover to China.

We watched memerised in the dark, a shared moment of simple family bliss, as the buildings and skyline were illuminated with a choreographed dance of lightbeams and explosion of colours.

Back in Hong Kong

I couldn't believe it has been 10 years since we last went to Hong Kong; the 3 of us - me, mia mamma and nonna. Esatamente 10 anni fa in luglio. This time round, it was to visit my sister who was based there for a year. We flew on budget air and touched down at the extremely crowded airport 4 hours later. I didn't remember it was so suffocatingly hot and crowded, although the new airport by the sea was much nicer than the old. Henry, the arranged cab driver (HK$270/ S$54), kept us amused with his HK-accented English as we drove 35mins to Hong Kong island from Kowloon.

He pointed out the tallest gleaming commercial towers as well as the cramped albeit poshy residential apartments with their tiny windows. HK is notoriously known for their lack of space so you can imagine the rows of erect buildings edging one another out in a vertically looming concrete palace built on slopes. When we got to her place, the friendly security guard let us in as he could tell that I was 'the younger sibling' (bonus points to him!), just that my sis was skinnier and darker.

Given the horror stories I heard about the claustrophobic living spaces in HK, I was imagining the worse but her modern nest was not too shabby, perched on the highest 24th floor with a prized location (8mins from Causeway Bay) and priceless view of Victoria Park, the city's skyline and harbour. She left a map and notes for us to orientate ourselves until 6pm at knock off time, so we immediately went downstairs at Wun Sha Street in search of lunch and found it at a Crystal Jade-ish restaurant, already packed with snobbish tai-tais and white-collar professionals.

We were quite taken that lunch cost HK$297 (S$60) for only 2 noodles, 2 dim sum and a plate of crunchy kailan vegetables but this was HK after all. The standard of living was supposedly higher than S'pore but I wasn't so sure about the quality of life based on how crowded and polluted the city is and how hard people work here. It had a certain frenziness to it that made my head spin and skin crawl. I think I might be developing an allergy to cities.

We rested till we got restless at 6pm when my sis returned to a home of warm embraces and familiar faces. My mom missed her pet terribly and couldn't stop fussing over her health and apartment. Hungry, we made our way to the famous Yung Kee restaurant www.yungkee.com.hk in the Central district in a cab (taxis are aplenty and so cheap here!). Its shopfront was gleaming with glazed roasted bodies of geese and other meats - an advertisement in itself. Though it was packed on two levels, the hungry customers were promptly managed and everyone was happily seated and attended to swiftly.

Greedy us ordered the roasted meat platter (goosemeat, suckling pig and bbq char siew all soooo gooood!), winter melon soup, scallops with broccoli and dessert (HK$732/ S$146). My friend F had begged me to buy the century egg 'pei dan' as they were deemed the best she had tasted. I had never tried them so I thought, hell I'd give it a go even though my gran told me they're cured in horse piss. Hmm they didn't taste as bad as I imagined. In fact I quite liked the gelatinous texture. The rest of the meal was a blur as I inhaled fatty slivers of goose and pork till I almost exploded.

An evening passeggiata (stroll) was in order so we skipped to the nearby Lan Kwai Fung, infamous for its meat market of watering holes. It was still early at 9plus but already the bars were getting packed with Friday revellers eager to get pissed. We got to The Peak - HK's highest and most prestigious summit - in a cab and got a priceless view of the city's glittering skyline from above. As the cab found itself down the winding road, we also peeped into some of the most expensive properties in HK (as much as $25million) - home to celebrities who are shielded among the lofty clouds from the notorious papparazzi here.

Neapolitana festa

As we entered July, I had begun the countdown to Settembre when I'd step on that plane to motherland where I can finally stuff my face with all the good food I miss! Anyway a big shout out to mio amico L whom I met in 2005 at Napoli (who thinks I write rubbish on my blog! Blaaah che stronzo!). He has kindly invited me 'la scema' to his cousin's wedding in Napoli - woo-hoo! - knowing how much I love a good festa. Already we are both salivating at the prospect of the 10-course dinner served alongside un fiume di vino (river of wine). Eat your heart out!

IL MENU
Aperitivo (to set the mood)
~
Antipasto (10 different kinds of frutti di mare!)
~~
Primo Piatto (3 pasta for first course!!)
Sfiziose alla Fontanina – misti formaggi e salumi
Fettuccine ai frutti di mare e soute di cozze'
Linguine allo scoglio, assaggio dello chef
~~~
Secondo Piatto (2 meats!!!)
Grigliata con carne mista
Sorbetto al limone (to cleanse palate)
Cosciotto di vitello (more meat!)
Mozzarella olive e grana
~~~~
Dolci
Macedonia con gelato
Torta e buffet di dolci

Note: Dancing to live music is highly recommended, in fact, it's compulsory to burn off the 10,859 calories in between courses while trying not to drown in the river of wine.

Note to myself: Practise elegante dancing moves, with possibly equally drunken strangers while trying not to vomitare from all the good food and river of wine.

Matrimonio di nuovo

This Thursday, I got invited to yet another wedding - this time by P, my classmate, who got hitched to his longtime Italian partner I, who flew in with her mom from Padova. Era molto unico - brief (thank god) and beautiful - at the decade-old Freemason Hall (one rarely gets a peep inside, you have to be 1. male 2. sworn in as a fraternity bro). After that, we all sat down at the tavern-style hall below for an early lunch at 10am where the wine flowed readily as the speeches and tears.

P made a touching speech peppered with some well-rehearsed jokes while the Freemason brothers' laughter soon became louder and louder with more vino and whisky consumed (by now it was only 11.15am). I managed to get some great shots of the couple (she in a gorgeous sari and he in a penguin tux) before the Indian ma-ma cameraman nearly knocked me unconscious with his heavy-set camera. The poor guy was so apologetic but I jokingly said I'd send him the medical bill. They'd be having 2 more celebrations - one in italia this settembre and another Hindu ceremony next January which we are all looking forward to.

Uniquely yours

I was reading Anthony Bourdain's extremely entertaining 'The Nasty Bits' and came across this bit. "I'm a New Yorker, so it should come as no surprise that I think my city is the greatest city in the world." Which reminded me of the many people from different countries whom I've met and how these proud beasts declared too with a smirk on their faces that their hometown is the best. Hmmm, how many of us could truely say that of Singapore? I bet if you ask your neighbour/colleague, he/she'd say "Singapore ah? Ok lah. So hot, so expensive now, boring lah."

Actually if you bother to venture out of the air-conditioned comfort of your flat into the freakin' hot crowded citta, there are options lurking in some swelterin' corners like the National Art Museo, where N and I spent half a Saturday inspecting the 'Engraving The World' exhibition - a chalcography collection of the Louvre Museum - and the surreal modern works by Chinese contemporary artist Zeng Fanzhi.

The former SJI school building was gorgeous and I especially liked the hall upstairs with its ghostly old European chandeliers and ornate tiles. After that, we crossed the road to the newly renovated grand dame, Singapore National Museum for more heritage exhibitions. www.nationalmuseum.sg Three weeks ago, we were here for a really pretentious launch of a really pretentious bar and I cringed when I had to air-kiss some of the pretentious folks. We bolted out of there in 15mins.

This time, it was a more laidback outing where we sipped on our caffe latte at the Aussie-like trendy cafe Novus and gossiped about everyone but us. There were so quirky modern works including the wall that projected our captured images and the swinging chandeliers (justified by a really lengthy pretentious explanation). We liked the Food Museum though it could have easily been more fun, instead of being so safe and so textbook. What about the tock-tock candy man? What about the kachang puteh man? What about the ice kacang balls??

By the time we'd finished, the sun was setting and dramatic against the beehive of clouds. We walked over to the Esplanade aka 'The Durian' for beers, salty fries and wings at a bar and watched the NDP fireworks. My friend B and his bro G had invited me to watch the Bonfire festival where 'poi' professionals came to put up their fiery acts and free workshops. These guys were damn good! Later that week, F and I were inspired to pick up the ropes again and bribed the brothers with some beer to teach us new poi tricks.

Signorina Vana

Today I went to a women's magazine photoshoot and got all made up for the story feature where they posed the question "How much money is enough?" to an eclectic bunch of women from successful directors to independent professionals. One of them is a free-spirited writer friend who has called India home for the last few years I've known her. The make-up part was fun, as I got the whole dramatic fake eyelashes, coats of mascara and gold eye shadow - fit for a drag queen.

The make-up artist said it was necessary to apply heavier cosmetics so I'd look good in the photos - no shit under the glare of the studio lights. And the hairstylist was trying to study my white hair as he contemplated what style would work for me. The stressful part was having to smile and pose in different 'natural' ways under the disapproving glares of the art director/stylist, designer, editor and photographer. After 20mins and a dozen poses later, I managed to loosen up and gave them my best shot! Who says modelling is easy??

Anyway back to the question - I think money is important but I draw the line at having to work overtime and losing sleep over it. I see my friends making tons of money but leading equally stressful lives with no time off for the more important things. One should make enough to sustain your own level of living without it cramping your personal space and freedom. We should work to live and not live to work.

Babies alarm

On Sunday, we celebrated the first month of Kieran, my cousin's newborn who was a bundle of joy. His brother Javier was a little minx and giggled as mia nonna placed his baby brother in his lap which tickled him no less. My cousin J and her husband are only 24 and they have already 2 boys - at times I envied them a lot but then again there were trade-offs that I wasn't sure if I was ready to embrace.

I'd always love kids and had a deep materal instinct - perhaps it was the Cancerian nurturing nature. My earliest goal was to have 2 kids before 30. However when 30 came and went, I thought ok maybe I'd just aim for 1 kid by 35. At this rate with my 32nd birthday coming up in July, I feared that my shot at motherhood is quite slim because it means I'd need to get married in the next 2 years and get pregnant subito. Hmm just thinking of it turned my hair white. I have all these plans coming up and I'm having the best time. Will I ever be ready?