Long long time.
I’ve listened to this song a hundred times coming.
Long long time.
I’ve listened to this song a hundred times coming.
January, O you hard month.
January was also a month of books and more books. Some I took photos of, some my mind couldn’t forget.
One of my favourite thing to so is to walk around old shopping malls after hours. I cannot tell if it is nostalgia that urges me or the anxieties of urban excess.
In my trance-like state I figure art in trail-end businesses and apocalypse suddenness.
And it goes on.
Our friend tells us Henderson Waves was built for monkeys. She said, only matter-of-factly, that it was “to build a bridge so that monkeys and other wildlife can cross between Telok Blangah Hill and Mount Faber Park and there will be less roadkill”.
HW is the highest pedestrian bridge in Singapore, at 36 metres above ground. It is part of Southern Ridges, over 10km of free, open spaces of flora and fauna.
Which we WILL GO this November, in bright when all things light.
Back to our friend A. Of course HY and I cannot stop laughing when we came home. Because her face was so earnest and every Friday we wait (sort of in ambush) to listen to the stories (of acclaim) our friend tells us on our night escapades.
A also said she disapproves of picking up in bars. hahhahahh. This was in the car before we reached Mount Faber. Then when we were high above sea level on the HW bridge, we saw some teenagers blowing smoke through gaps in the bala wood, doing what teenagers do. She said they did not respect the “architectural art” of the place and throughout the rest of our walk echoed “architectural art” many a splendored times.
As I age I disapprove of wild nights of booze and prefer to turn off the tap of sex for those pockets of moments when I am reminded of adventure.
But you cannot deny being truly alive ravishes the same way being young indulges. Well, the closest. The feeling that there is life going on elsewhere.
…wise men at their end know dark is right
do not go gentle into the night…
er, excuse me?
That’s better. ♫♫
That’s it. That’s the secret, Daisho soup base. It’s a bit too thick and rich for hot pot soup, so we dilute it with one packet of water. You can buy it from NTUC or any Japanese supermarket. Endorsed by The Steamboat Specialist, Chef Yo. Chef Yo only likes to eat ikan bilis.
Also, you need to get one of those butane stoves. Hot pot needs fire. Induction cookers don’t cut it somehow. We had one of those and it was just weird. No fire no spark.
Xiang, this is where we’re going. All yellow, the food is probably nothing. Like all the places we find ourselves most comfortable in, it’s the ones that offer a little magic with very little effort. But at least nothing is underachieved.
hot pot broth ideas
Surrender at Raffles Hotel offers nice, traditional scents to burn. Not off kilter like some of the more ‘adventurous’ scents. Just the sense of scents that remind you of a time that exists only in film noirs. If I can’t have it in real life, I would still like to have its scent at reel.
I have not stepped into Raffles Hotel since the last time Long Bar meant something to the person who was dating. The hotel in 2014 is rather, slow. Being ‘relevant’ today makes sense if you want to stay around, and stay around at that time in the future because you are relevant. It is surprising there is no proper space for staff, including chefs and uniformed staff, to have a smoke or a moment to themselves (I’m not talking about a designated ‘room’ which I’m assuming to be already in place). There are some makeshift benches and a chippy table or two, placed around moodily, like the hotel is the rest of the heartland. Don’t even mention ‘The Grand Budapest’. Five-star honey must also mean how your bees are rested yes?
I guess C.Y.C. tailor is truly old school and there is a nice Sunny Hills bakery that serves a unique pineapple cake.
HY asks why they do not build a shed for their gardening stuff. Tools, pails, pots and a ladder are just stacked up against a wall in full view. (HY: It’s like our contractor neighbour Orh Ki’s [Black Mole] house. Once, we threw away a broken laundry rack and it ended up back at Orh Ki’s house, sticking out of one of his numerous pots of plants.) The thing about Raffles is its lush greenery, which Fullerton can’t boast that it has inside its hotel grounds. A proper gardening shed and staff jive joint should be in place my little sling.
HY: A few years back, we had the opportunity to stay at the Oriental in Bangkok. I was in my 20s and I couldn’t understand why the doormen had to bow all the way to their ankles every time they saw us. It was a little weird, and I was a bit uncomfortable with the whole colonial thing. There is a wing dedicated to all the famous authors who stayed there once, and an author’s lounge. I didn’t understand why those were still there, since nobody there looked like they read. But now I know it’s all part of the magic show, and EVERYTHING is about the magic show.
There is no magic show at Raffles Hotel. And what is Raffles Hotel without the magic show? A glorified version of Orh Ki’s house (which also has lush greenery and a koi pond) with mall attached.
Katong Delights ‘Taste That Matters’ is a strange place to be, but not to dine. Okay, if you consider we ate in absolute quiet, with only the burring of the overhead fan, it is rather strange.
It always feels like we walked into a set, because we’re in 2014. Everything is frozen only because it is a set. When we last stepped into this place a few years ago, the set was as is.
The food is of course good in places like these, truly real (authentic is not an operative word) because it is operated by the generation before us. The generation that is real because it doesn’t know about being authentic. Home-cooked Peranakan food must be served on lino mats and in someone’s house – this is it. When we ate, Maureen stood by the doorway and swung her arms and looked outside into the evening, perhaps not to leave us alone to the burring of the fan. When we finished, Maureen told us her name and waved us goodbye from the doorway as we cycled away.
At Figaro Street off Jalan Tua Kong in Siglap, they open till 9pm everyday and close on Sundays.
Here’s a photo of a scary HY standing in the same spot, years back.
Karen’s Hair Fashion is run by no one else other than Auntie May, at Roxy Square, #01-36. Anything with wheels is wheeled about over locks of hair; plastic apparatus with all primary colors punctuate fecklessly. Most times the salon looks like it is closing for good.
Gave in and got a penny board at Interstate Boardshop @Peninsula.
The tv was on. Lousy reception. Channel News Asia came on and there was a feature on ‘Uncle Ringo’. Eric said he worked there for $4 an hour once. ‘Uncle Ringo’ was this patch of fairground where Takashimaya now stands.