Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Tell-A-Tale (Part 16): The Silence Of The Beans





Okayama, 2008.




Shiori was never a friend.
But I was slightly hungry.
And mostly curious.
So, I ate her.

I remember our hot bath.
She looked helpless.
Submission is such a delicious word.

Run? Hide?
Why?
These hands will be gentle.
Caressing with a lullaby.

Beautiful adornment.
That smooth touch of epidermis.
That ever slight friction.
Kimi no perfect tone.

I could have done it at the kaiten.
But it would have been less fun, wouldn't it?
I'm glad you came.
For my little game.

Hush now.
What you can't see scares you the most.
But the melodies of the blades will sooth you.
Twirl to the rhythm of the rotation.
Dance! Dance! Dance!
Don't scream, for it's painful to my ear, dear.

It’ll end soon, I promise.

Smooth.
Your blood never felt so fresh.
And silence was that sweet taste of you.



Arigato, my Shiori-chan.
You were oishi.



(Blended, boiled Edamame milk with syrup)

Friday, August 15, 2008

Tell-A-Tale (Part 15): HairyBerry's Delhi Belly

Recently, after my trip to India, I discovered the meaning of a Delhi Belly. Rather unpleasant, I must say.

But did I get myself a Delhi Belly when I was there?

I was awed, yes, AWED by India’s thalis, vegetarian or not. It was all about the variety. Tasty varieties. From the very touristy version to the Rajasthani’s, every set was an explosion of colours and flavours. Consisting of tangy starters, flavoursome mains (rice included) and sweet desserts (imagine gulab jamun…with ice cream!), it was completeness at its best. I’m still AWED.

Familiar sights. The ever-filling rotis; naan and parantha. But don’t expect anything lesser than those with fillings like mashed potatoes, mint, onions, mixed vegetables and paneer (cottage cheese). A good complement to the spicy curries.

Some snacks to munch while awaiting the mains? Gladly. Pyramidal samosas filled with minced lamb or chicken, decorated with crunchy vegetable cubes and a generous amount of spices. Too spicy, say you? Perhaps a milder, smoky vegetable sheekh will tantalize your tastebuds. Remember to dip it into that chilled, mint raita (dahi) for a taste of culinary juxtaposition. Or perhaps some juicy momos, crispy-skinned fried paneer...or simply, savoury papads?

Delving into the mains, the all-time favourite briyani rice is the best bet. Saffronized long-grained rice, laced with aromatic spices and purified butter. The taste lingers. But of course, one should never forget the pulaos as well. Dig deeper, and one may find pieces of chicken, mutton or simply, eggs for added flavours. And how is it possible not to complement the rice with the rich, spicy, crimson-hued Mughlai Chicken/Mutton? Let the combination of cinnamon, cardamom seeds, garam masala, star anise and yoghurt bowl you over. There’s also the familiar soft, charred tandoori chicken for the unconvinced.

We can’t possible neglect the ubiquitous yet distinctive South Indian cuisine. The endless sides including dahi vadai, onion bajji, appam and ghee paper masala dosai will keep one entertained. When it comes to rice, specials like bisi bela bath (a blend of spiced rice and lentils), pullogare (tamarind rice) and chitranna (lemon rice) sure provide a good exposure as to how interesting life is beyond the plain, white rice.

Youngsters (or youngeesthanis, they call it) prefer to be hip. And hipsters eat what’s cool. And happenin’. Like the Maharaja Burger from I’m Lovin’ It. Think Big Mac, where beef is substituted with curried chicken patties. Pizza? Yes, Indianized with toppings like kadai chicken and murg mussalam. The masala lemonade’s definitely for the adventurous at heart. And Khan ChaCha at Khan Market got the huge crowd goin’ with their snacks like the mutton seekh kabab roomali roll and chicken tikka roomali roll.

When it comes to desserts, sweets are seriously sweet. No in-betweens. I can’t forget that cooling kulfi on a summer’s night in Jaipur. Frozen milk, embedded with nuts and candied fruits, it was divine. That hot, firm rawa kesari bath sets a nice, sweet tone to a scrumptious South Indian meal. Like falling into Willy Wonka’s factory, India’s dessert shops are full of shapes and colours. And immensely sweet. From a plain milk cake to the green coconut barfi to a crunchy badam pista to the what I call sweet muruku (syrup drenched deep-fried batter called jalebis), one can be assured of a sugary high.There is also the Swiss confectionary pioneer, Wenger’s, to provide pastries like fig tarts, coconut macaroons and cheesecake tarts, which are equally sweet and rich.

What is a trip to India without a cup of chai? Smooth, aromatic and sweet. A sip of India.

In most restaurants, when one asks for the bill, a tray (or bowl or plate) of cumin seeds and rock sugar is presented. A natural mouth-freshener.

So, to answer the earlier question on whether I developed a Delhi Belly in India.

Yes, I did.

A good Delhi Belly at that.

None of those unpleasantnesses.

But one full of colours, spiciness and flavours.

Unforgettable.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Tell-A-Tale (Part 14): Her, INDIA

Warm were her summer days
Spreading her arms wide
Unto acceptance of the unworthiness
With her colours of life.
O how one sing praises of her songs.
Of her beauty.
Of her grace.

- Sharma S.N. -

Her Jaipur, the Victorious City was a construction of infinite shapes and colours. The majestic Rajasthani city speaks of ancient gloriousness with the majestic City Palace and Amber Fort. Pink and crimson hues steal the daylight from the Old City, only to resonant as one at sunset. Life begins with the first beam of sunlight and the Jantar Mantar (Royal Observatory) is a testament of the superiority of the sun in sustaining the order of the day, and life. Her bustling Johari bazaar sparkles with fabrics that can untangle even the saddest of expressions of a woman.

13 May 2008: Bomb blasts in Jaipur killed 60, injured 150.

A city of love should be a measure of devotion, not the amount of bulbs lighting a lifeless metal structure. Her city of Agra spoke of such with conviction as Shah Jahan devoted his mortality to completing his “teardrop on the face of eternity (Tagore)”, his Taj Mahal, in memory of his deceased second wife.

But is devotion mere beautification of a mausoleum?

Or a startling Agra Fort overlooking the mausoleum and the holy Yamuna River?

No, devotion was his imprisonment in the fort by his own son, Aurangzeb and his last, perpetual glimpse of his love through the window, as he exhaled his last breath.

Her Mughal-reigned Old Delhi humbles the largest of men. Lal Qila, the Red Fort greets its visitors with a stunning entrance, the red-sandstoned Lahore Gate, promising a view of the respected, royal, liberal Mughal governance.

Cleaned and barefooted, worshippers walked on the burning ground to reach the largest mosque she offers. Patience is part of faith. The grand Jama Masjid. 40 metres high, the climb to the top of the minaret further described the vastness of her Delhi, her pride. The wind seemed to guide the eager ones towards the right direction.

The chants and veda inscriptions in the Laxminarayan Temple or Birla Mandir transports one to a state of meditation, and serenity.

25 July 2008: Bomb blasts in Bangalore killed 2, injured 20.
26 July 2008: Bomb blasts in Ahmedabad killed 56, injured over 200.
26 July 2008: Mumbai, Calcutta, Surat and New Delhi were on high alert.

Shimla, Himachal Pradesh, north. The exhaust fume from the "horn, please" trucks spurs a welcoming gesture onto the passengers' face, from Kalka onwards. They were mostly trucks of apples, the in-season fruit. Scandal Point, Middle Baazar, Lower Bazaar; they promise happy faces and beautiful mountainous smiles. The Jakhu (Hanuman) Temple and English Christ Church remind us of guidance we all need. At over 2200 metres above sea level, one can never not be curious to know the Tibetan life beyond the Great Himalayan Range. It often takes a song to greet. And flowers to know.

She had been kind. For the usual, awaited cooling rain did not dampen our clothes or spirit (not even once) during this time of heat.

I left with a melancholic song.
Wrapped with praises and hope.

I wish her peace.
I wish her well.

Her, beautiful India.

Friday, August 8, 2008

Jarrod & Rawlins @ Desa Sri Hartamas

As weekends are more or less similar to a RM50 pre-paid reload these days, (in true kiasuism fashion) should we make full of the 2880 minutes by catching up on things/people we missed or should we save up our qi (or credit) and just chill, and enjoy the tranquility away?

When I went to pay for my parking ticket (somewhere near the overpriced Desa Sri Hartamas foodcourt), I found alphabets below each numbered button. So, does that mean I have to punch in the three alphabets of my vehicle’s identification plate before I enter the 4 digits? Because technically, I don’t think it is possible.

The first time I dropped by J&R on a Saturday morning (8ish), it was closed. This time, I went around 12ish. It was open. Thank goodness! So, technically, when I ordered my Fried Breakfast that afternoon, was I going for brunch? Or breakfast?

Too much lar, Nic. You have just wasted 0.5% of your credit. So, just shut up and enjoy your breakfast. Or whatever you call it.

Ok.

It may look cheap and minimal but it tasted exquisite. The Fried Breakfast (RM28.00) which should consist of two sunny side ups, sausages, bacons, grilled tomato, toast, tea and orange juice was surprisingly filling. Sausages, in general, make me cringe because of that frozen, stale taste. Ever more prevalent when one is in a cinema or bus. J&R’s were definitely fresh, flavoursome (with a touch of pepper to boost) and firm. The bacons were aptly cured and tender. Heck, even the tomato tasted rather sweet. My orange juice did not turn up and I failed to realize that until I started drafting this post. A dab of butter on the crispy toast curtained the sunny breakfast, as if to remind me of an afternoon nap later.

More bacon glorification. The Bacon Sandwich (RM13.50) oozed deliciousness with each bite, eventhough it was simply toasted soft bread sandwiching savoury/tender pieces of bacon. As with a curvy body, do we need a diamond studded, plunging neckline dress to make it shine? Just throw in a petite-sized plain white T.

I couldn’t resist looking into the mirror. No, not to admire my bacon-like self but to read the specials written on it. Shouldn’t I say yes to the Mexican Spare Ribs (RM32.00)? Now this was the total opposite of the sandwich. Came voluptuously red, I fantasized of being capsized by the Mexican wave and (gladly) suffocate in the aroma of the majestic Cajun spices. Alas, a summer breeze passed me by instead. Yes, it was rather bland. But the ribs were tender and flaky.

The approximately 4.2% of the weekend was well spent at J&R. The sausages and slices of bacon were indeed top-notch. The relaxing ambiance made the clouds move faster.

I am thinking of something crazy.

Maybe I’ll scrap my up-coming 48 credit hours allocation and just go with the flow. With this, perhaps I’ll have less unnecessary questions and answers. And maybe, just maybe, food and life will taste better.

Jarrod & Rawlins
No. 36 (Ground floor)
Jalan 27/70A
Desa Sri Hartamas
50480 Kuala Lumpur.
Tel: (+603) 23000708
Website: http://www.jarrod-rawlins.com

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Geylang Claypot Rice

Be it the incessant neon lights or simply, the buzzing nightlife, Geylang excites one in every way imaginable. It’s a world of its own here. Same goes for the food. Don’t expect fastfood or coffee chains. Instead, be prepared to indulge in a taste of classic contemporaries ranging from Teochew porridge to beef hor fun to chicken rice to soy base desserts.

Filgrimages (food pilgrimages) are paid to Geylang whenever time permits. The gastronomical experience (on macro or micro scales) is indeed therapeutic, especially after a rough day at work.

Sitting inside the Geylang Claypot Rice restaurant, hordes of passersby provide side-entertainment while waiting for the food to arrive. Are they visitors to the certain even-numbered lorongs? How stereotypical of me. But don’t blame me. I got the same suspicious look from a few taxi drivers when I told them of my mouth-watering destination. That’s part of the fun, perhaps.

Still using charcoal as the source of heat, cooking time takes at least 25 minutes. Therefore, réservez, s’il vous plaît. Opening of the lid revealed a spectrum of brownish hues from the marinated chicken pieces, waxed meat & liver sausages and salted fish. A swirl of dark soy sauce bonded the ensemble with a slightly sweet taste. The fluffy rice added an appetizing factor. What it lacked (personally), was the distinctive charred flavour. However, the fact that the bowl could be scraped clean showed that hygiene was assured. It could have been more flavoursome, definitely.

And the brussels sprouts were fresh, sweet and firm.

The subtly sweet lotus roots made the rather bland braised duck tasted interesting. The soft duck meat contrasted the crispy lotus root slices well. The sweet gravy would have dressed a plate of white rice perfectly while chestnuts and lotus seeds could have added extra sweetness and texture as well.

As interesting as it may sound, the steamed star grouper did not blow the tastebuds out of cosmic proportions. Still delicious, nevertheless. Laced with a seductively red sweet and spicy sauce, the fish was fresh and well-cooked. As with many other fish-steaming styles, the crunchy fried lard bits exhibited a crunchy texture and of course, aroma, as the bits crumble in the mouth.

Accolades for claypot rice are countless and service was efficient on the night of visit.

I’ve once heard of a few famous claypot rice stalls that don’t scrape off the burnt, remaining rice adhered to the lining of the claypot. Apparently, it adds a distinctive flavour to the dish. A fear factor for many, me, on the other hand, don’t mind a little carbon in the body, if it’s delicious. Afterall, how often do we indulge in claypot rice?

Right?

A menu for 2:
Claypot Rice – S$14.00
Brussels Sprout – S$6.00
Lotus Duck – S$10.00
Steamed Star Grouper – S$32.00

Geylang Claypot Rice
No. 639, Lorong 33
Geylang
Singapore 389570
Tel: (+65) 6744 4574/3619
Website: http://geylangclaypot.com

Other review:
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