Steamed Threadfin

I ran the fastest 21 km of my life last Sunday at the Army Half Marathon. As with some of the other recent races in Singapore, the actual distance remains controversial. The fact that some of these routes are not IAAF certified questions the standard of professionalism of the organizers. On the other hand, typical GPS watches worn by the runners do not correspond well with elevations. So, who's right and who's wrong? As the blame game continues, I'm just glad that I ended the last of my half marathons this year with a sub 2-hour finish. Although, I am still considering the PJ Half Marathon in October. We'll see. The Army run was the best half marathon that I had participated this year. Rehydration points were aplenty, the cheerleading squads were energetic and there were even street performances along the way! My new Garmin Forerunner 210 (I got it at a good price at Comex just 2 days before the run!) had kept me running at a steady, consistent pace. But darn that killer slope at Fort Canning that had greatly reduced my speed! Towards the last 5 km, I thought I wouldn't be able to achieve a new personal best but I kept going. My mind, thoughtless.

The run started at 5.15 am and by 8.30 am, after gulping a few cans of isotonic drinks and getting a free massage at the Salonpas booth, I was back at home. Surprisingly, I wasn't as tired as I thought and decided to make a quick brunch before sleeping the afternoon away. Ahhh, just the thought of the sound sleep I had that afternoon feels good. There were 2 pieces of threadfin left and I decided to steam them. I know, I should be rewarding myself with something more sinful like char kway teow, KFC or bak chor mee. But I had to clear the fridge before the arrival of a new week, so I settled for a healthier brunch. Dinner was, yes, char kway teow. And Hokkien mee!

I went with the usual Cantonese-style steaming; minced ginger and garlic as topping, with a drizzle of sugared soy sauce. When the fish was cooked, I turned off the heat, added some hua diao wine and sesame oil before spreading the dish with a generous amount of chopped coriander and scallion. And covered the dish for a few minutes.

Threadfins bring back some childhood memories. As a kid, I was fed with a lot of threadfin porridge. The bones are hard and deathly, so I had learnt the art of simultaneously munching the meat and separating the bones in the mouth with my teeth and tongue before swallowing. And after some time, one will also be able to judge if it's an aged fish, from the texture of the thick skin. Back then, this was an upper-class fish. But I didn't have to buy them because I would get a good, unsold supply from my late grandfather. He was a fishmonger in a wet market. Mum being Hakka, would sometimes steam it with some sweet preserved vegetable and ginger. To be honest, I prefer this style because of the slight sweetness that gives a more interesting palate.

Back to my steamed fish, I vaguely remember reading some online articles on steamed fish served with rice noodle. It's a Teochew-style of cooking, I believe. Coincidentally, I'd frozen 2 stacks of carrot noodle that I made the day before. It was an experiment, by adding carrot puree to the dough, to inject some colour and sweetness to my usual handmade noodle. So, I cooked a handful of the carrot noodles and curled them into the steamed dish. By now, the soy sauce was infused with the spiciness of the ginger and garlic, and sweetness of threadfin, making it a tasty dressing for the noodles.

That was truly an enjoyable Sunday. So much so that I'd absolutely forgotten about the 4th anniversary of my blog. Looking at the amount of posts that I'd written this year, it seems like I'm bastardizing my blog. I'm not. I did mention, in one of my anniversary posts, that a blog is like one's child. Because you love it, you'll put in effort to ensure that it's taken care of. I believe my child has grown up. We've reached a level of understanding that infrequent postings do not equate to a love lost. In fact, I enjoy writing more now than, say 2008, because I begin to understand my priorities. So, I spend, whenever I can, more quality time in collecting and expressing my thoughts here rather than churning posts that mean nothing to me. Happy belated 4th anniversary, Black Tie White Lie.

Cooked And Shared A Pot Of Curry

I ran to the Lower Peirce reservoir last Sunday. Nothing unusual of course, except that I’ve not been running in this direction since the beginning of the Hungry Ghost Festival. My friend, a runner and triathlete, had advised me to avoid this route; the winding Old Upper Thomson Road, to be specific, because it’s dark and quiet. Yes, the perfect setting for a ghostly encounter. He’s an experienced sportsman, so I’d decided to take his advice. But it’s also for its tranquility, coupled with the green, natural surrounding and the company of unobtrusive monkeys (and the occasional wildboar) that make this my favourite running route in Singapore so far. At night, especially.

My run began at 8 am (ahah, so this is not a ghost story!) that Sunday, so I completed 14 km around 9.30 am. Brunch at Paradise Pavilion was to start at 1 pm, so I had ample time to shop for ingredients for my curry dish at the neighbourhood wet market. I decided to stop by a tiny shop manned by a middle-aged lady. To be honest, I was rather disappointed with the garam masala that she offered as it came pre-packed. But the cost was only a micro fraction of the Masterfoods version on the supermarket shelf, so it was a compromise.

The lady looked at me curiously as I handed over the plastic basket of mostly spices to be checked out. Boy, what do you want to cook? she asked. I told her of my plan to cook a pot of vegetable curry with yoghurt. She gave me a few cooking tips and seemed pleased that I’m taking on an Indian-style curry. She just didn’t know that that’s the only style that I know of.

Why vegetable curry? I thought a mélange of colourful vegetables would make the dish more photogenic and this post more attractive. This plan of mine was laid out a few days earlier, after reading about the unofficial Cook And Share A Pot Of Curry campaign and receiving an invitation from Keropokman on Facebook.

There were five types of vegetables in my curry – brinjal, cauliflower, long bean, carrot, corn. There were pureed tomatoes too, for a creamy texture; a tip I’d picked up from the lovely Anjum Anand. I’d initially thought of including tamarind paste for a bit of tang and savouriness but replaced that with yoghurt and a light touch of cider vinegar instead. A handful of chopped coriander was mixed into the curry as I left the curry to cool. It’s obviously a simple dish to prepare but the combination of spices like cumin, turmeric, cinnamon, pepper and coriander was really aromatic and appetizing. Soon, version 2.0 will include more fried spices, tamarind paste, curry leaves, chilli paste and definitely more of the full fat yoghurt from the same stall. The yoghurt was so smooth and rich that I’d selfishly saved some to top my own serving.

Coincidentally, I had lunch with a colleague from Bangalore the next day and shared some of my vegetable curry with him. I almost burst into laughter when he said it was very tasty. I’m sure he was just being courteous. He then shared his lunch of more vegetarian curries cooked by his maid (what a lucky man) that made mine tasted like an elementary school science project. Over lunch, we discussed many issues including the curry campaign (of course) and the presidential election. It was an enjoyable lunch, one that I’ll gladly have regularly.

So that’s my Cook And Share A Pot Of Curry story. I had fun that Sunday.

It’s amazing how a Facebook page of such triviality can spice up our lives. As I welcome Cook A Bowl Of Bak Chor Mee Saturday or Fry A Plate Of Hokkien Mee Friday in the future, I should still exercise good judgement before clicking “ATTENDING”, so to not be misinformed and subsequently, misinterpreting and tarnishing the campaign.

Anyway, I don’t see such socio-culinary events taking place in this week. Everyone’s busy choosing their next President. So, happy voting, my Singaporean friends!

Mostly about Chinese fastfood restaurants...

Unlike the previous business trips to China, there were no lavish banquets to occupy the nights. It didn’t matter. Alone, I had a good time roaming about central Chang’an and Shenzhen on foot and tasted some, by corporate standard, cheap food along the way. Rechecking my trip's reimbursement claim, I realize that I am potentially the most (willingly) spendthrift employee of the year.

Chang’an may be just a small town but is well-known for being populous within the industrial city of Dongguan. That’s according to my Chinese colleague. I must explore Chang’an, I promised myself. During the day, I worked mostly from the hotel room and in the evening, I would hit the streets. No hotel food for dinner, thank you.

I would walk about 2 kilometers to central Chang’an. Into the first 500 meters, my shirt would soak in sweat. July in the Guangdong province is hot and humid, so don’t be alarmed to see shirtless local men everywhere, be it on the streets, in restaurants and even in shopping malls. I would have gladly taken off my shirt too, had this not been an official visit. Another observation is the group of line dancers that I passed by daily. Despite the heat, they seemed to be enjoying themselves tremendously.

In general, I am all for streetfood but here, I was mostly disinterested because they were all provincial cuisines that are readily available back in Chinatown. Also, hygiene was of a concern. I had to constantly remind myself that this was an official visit, so I had to stay healthy. I decided on something less adventurous but still fun – tackling as many Chinese fastfood chains as I could, starting with 真功夫. Its trademark, a Bruce Lee-like figure, can be found all across China. The food is, as they claim, steamed to retain the nutrients. I think some dishes, like soups, are boiled, then steamed. Anyway, the staff recommended the herbal chicken soup set meal, which included some broccoli and steamed rice topped with minced pork. There’s nothing extraordinary about the soup that came perfumed with the usual Chinese angelica but it was a filling set.

The types of food that these fastfood restaurants offer do not differ much from each other, as I’d learnt in a week. All the menus have a similar listing of soups and steamed rice served with a variety of ingredients including braised pork ribs, stir-fried vegetables, beef slices and chicken cubes. However, I did find some rather noteworthy dishes like the Vitamin C noodle (with a reddish broth loaded with lots of tomatoes and pickled cabbage) at 永和大王 in Shenzhen and lean pork balls with 石解 (Radix Aristolochiae Fangchi, a rope-like herb) soup at 添添聚源味 in Chang’an.

I’d dined mostly at 活力旺, a local fastfood chain in Chang’an. It’s slightly cheaper than the competition and unlike its more glitzy rivals, 活力旺 does not thrive on a formula of modern (and clean) interior, bright displays and creative marketing but simply serves hearty dishes on worn plates and bowls. I really enjoyed the sour and spicy pork ribs soup noodle, served with peanuts, lettuce and dried daylilies. What an explosion of flavours in the mouth! Not numbingly spicy, but it made me sweat a bucket. The rice sets come with a good selection of toppings including bittergourd, yellow chive and some undetermined exotic vegetables. All walks of life dine here; elders, students, couples in factory uniforms, small families, etc. They made my dinners more interesting as I observed their eating habits and overheard conversations that were not too heavily accented.

Being in southern Guangdong, Hong Kong seems like just a few steps away. At Shenzhen, I found some Hong Kong bakeries and cafés, including Maxim’s and Café de Coral. On a sweltering Saturday afternoon, after hours of frenzy shopping at 华强北, Shenzhen’s mega electronics market, I replenished at Café de Coral with some generously herbed, tender roast duck and pork belly. It was a random but good choice.

Since we’re on the topic of Hong Kong, I did, after trying so much oriental fastfood in China, plan to lunch differently at the Landmark’s l’Atelier de Joel Robuchon, before catching my evening flight back to Singapore. A check on the airline’s schedule later, I’d decided to forgo Robuchon to catch an earlier flight on the A380. It was my virginal boarding this aviation wonder, so I was quite excited. With some time to spare at the Hong Kong airport, I headed to the reputable (and rather expensive) Maxim’s Chinese Restaurant for their signature roast goose and some dim sum before started shopping for confectionaries and mooncakes at Kee Wah and Wing Wah.

Back to Guangdong. If I were to choose the most memorable food-related experience during this trip, I think it has to be enjoying the pack of mini wife’s biscuits from a local supermarket that cost only RMB5. Considering the price, the biscuits were good. Perhaps freshly baked, the skin was crispy and the filling of glutinous rice flour paste was soft and just nicely sweet. Oh, there were bits of winter melon too! Best deal of the trip, definitely.

Besides exploring Chang’an and Shenzhen, I spent the rest of my free time watching the cable news channels. It was during that week that we were horrified and saddened by the Norway twin attacks, Wenzhou trains collision and Amy Winehouse’s death. Reports on the devastating Horn of Africa famine didn’t making the week any easier. But instead of ending this rather lengthy post with obvious, neutral comments or even suggesting unintelligent remedies to these issues, I just want to be thankful for this safe trip. And a healthy and peaceful life so far. Once too often, I do take these blessings for granted.

Ippudo (and Ippudo X Tao)

We arrived late in Osaka from the Tottori prefecture, exhausted, but our Japanese colleague insisted that we still head to this shop for a taste of Hakata-style ramen. This colleague of mine is a foodie and so far, his recommendations had not been disappointing. In fact, they were excellent. Despite the late hour, the restaurant was still packed to the brim, a contrast to the quiet, dark street where it’s located. We were fortunate to have found seats at the communal dining table that resembled an old, big tree trunk. There were jars of condiments on that table – preserved vegetables, pickled ginger, soy sauce and chilli powder. On that cold, early autumn night, I waited eagerly and hungrily for my bowl of ramen, unknowing and uninformed of the ingredients and taste.

When I had my first taste of the tonkotsu broth there, at 一風堂 in 2003, I knew my life would be changed forever. The broth was white, but it was not from evaporated milk that we so conveniently pour into our fish soup noodle to enrich the flavour. Instead, the tonkotsu, in general, is the result of long simmering of pork bones and fatty cuts of meat. Served hot, the aroma from a combination of lard in the broth and garlic oil was heavenly. Topping the ramen were some crunchy slices of wood ear and melting soft pork belly. I said this exceptional noodle dish changed my life forever because until today, the aroma and taste still linger in my mind and I’ve never stopped craving for it. For me, the choice of broth is quite obvious whenever I drop by a ramen shop.

Perhaps too indulged in my first bowl of tonkotsu ramen, I’d forgotten to inquire how the kanji words of 一風堂 are pronounced. It has, for a long time, remained as the nameless, excellent ramen chain that I’ve been proselytizing recommending to my friends and family back home.

一風堂 is pronounced as Ippudo, as I’d discovered recently when I visited their first shop at the Mandarin Gallery. By now, I’d tried more than a dozen tonkotsu broths in town; some better, mostly not. I was interested to compare the tastes; between now and my first experience in Osaka, eight years ago. The condiments offered in Osaka back then were not found here. And instead of the rustic, rather unkempt interior, this branch seemed to have been jazzed up with a touch of contemporary zen. I prefer the rustic design, actually. One thing remained – the required snaking queue.

I’ve been revisiting the Ippudo branches in Singapore rather frequently, not because of my now tamed addiction to their tonkotsu, but of requests from visiting friends from abroad. The perpetual queue at Mandarin Gallery is repulsive and at times, almost drove me to turn to Ootoya at Orchard Central, which could possibly guarantee a crowd as well. I’ve been enlightened by some websites to visit the UE Square branch. And since then, snaking queues were never again a problem for me.

Ippudo Shiro, which means white in Japanese, refers to the tonkotsu broth. Despite the difference in presentation (the bowls look strange but ergonomic now), essentially, the flavours and aroma were very much similar to what I had years ago. It was a good taste down memory lane. The strands of ramen were cooked to my desired texture - springy, but on the soft side. I guess in Ippudo, that kind of texture is termed medium.

What's new to me was the incorporation of Tao in the UE Square branch's name. Previously, I thought Tao was the name of another famous Japanese ramen joint and that this branch serves both ramen from Ippudo and Tao. And I've been telling my dining companions (all of them!) of this too, partially to impress them with my ramen knowledge.

Actually, Tao refers to a famous Japanese drum group! According to the website, IPPUDO TAO is a synergy of two Japanese traditions: ramen and drum performance and At IPPUDO TAO, one can enjoy TAO’s live performances via a huge screen while having ramen that have been created exclusively in the spirit of TAO. I'm still digesting the concept while burying my embarrassment in misinterpreting the restaurant's name.

I tried the Tao Aka (red in Japanese), which consisted of curlier egg noodles in a tonkotsu broth with the addition of spicy miso paste. Previous dining experiences had taught me to take spicy lightly (and sweetly) in Japanese restaurants but this particular paste was, though far from a habanero chilli, rather spicy. Although I still prefer the shiro, this serves as an interesting alternative, especially on a cold, rainy night, like now.

For me, it's hard to explain how good is a tonkotsu broth. It's a measure of density, richness, lightness, aroma, flavours, patience and skills. Although the last few years have seen ramen shops sprouting across the island, I've not had one version of tonkotsu that embodies all the said characteristics. I won't be surprised if some shops use powdered tonkotsu flavouring too.

I can't and won't say that Ippudo serves the best tonkotsu or Hakata-style ramen in town but this is definitely one of the very few outstanding ones.

Ippudo Singapore's website

A New Attempt and Rediscovery

Unknowingly, I’d spent more than 3 hours in the kitchen that late Saturday afternoon preparing dinner while listening to the limited, repetitive coverage of the Bersih rally on Channel NewsAsia. My menu was a progressive build, which started from my purchase of a bottle of white truffle oil (that made up a third of the dinner’s cost) at noon. The rest of the ingredients were picked up at a hypermarket, mindfully and economically, as to not exceed my personal budget (truffle oil included) comparable to a main course at most starred restaurants in town and yet, are able to be used to create dishes that are much more interesting than most weekday dinners of stir-fried leftovers from the refrigerator with soy sauce, dark or light.

Cream of Carrot, Dried Shrimps and Pumpkin with Truffle Oil

I have been using a lot of carrots and pumpkins for my regimented weekday dinners. Apart from being a rich source of vitamin A, I begin to discover the immense natural sweetness of these two ingredients and have been planning to create a dish to just showcase this character, hence the cream of carrot and pumpkin. I used a stock of sun-dried local anchovies and pork bones, which were simmered for almost an hour. It’s an easy starter to prepare – just pureeing the softened mirepoix of carrots, onions, garlic and pumpkin with toasted dried shrimps and stock. No cream of any kind was used. I topped the dish with a crack of black pepper and a drizzle of truffle oil. I should have omitted the latter as its scent was overshadowed by the pungency of the dried shrimps. The sweetness of the cream was expectedly intense. The dried shrimps gave the starter an Asian twist, which I thought was interesting. This was served with slices of dark rye sourdough.

Spread of Spinach and Anchovies

The chilled spread of spinach and Spanish anchovies in a yoghurt/chilli powder dressing, believe it or not, was supposedly a two-dish of palak paneer and fish/vegetable curry! I’d decided to scrap the idea of preparing two dishes as it was laborious and of course, more expensive. I toyed with the idea of canapés for the spread as well, but ended up conveniently smacking a thick layer of the green paste on the sourdough. I thought the combination of savouriness of the anchovies, sourness of the yoghurt and tinge of heat from the chilli powder worked well with the bland, finely chopped spinach. The remaining spread was sandwiched between multi-grain toasts for breakfast on Monday.

Angel Hair Carbonara, Truffle Oil, Assorted Mushrooms in Balsamic/Muscovado Reduction

One of the reasons why I bought the bottle of truffle oil is to improve my carbonara recipe. Previously, I’d used truffle salsa and the scent was consistently mild, despite my pouring of almost half a bottle to approximately half a pack of spaghetti. Perhaps I should have made some truffle butter for the mix but I guess I’m just too lazy for that. So, this time, with three raw eggs, a pack of grated parmesan cheese, some truffle oil and another generous pouring of truffle oil to every individual serving, the scent was much more prevalent. Instead of the usual bacon strips, I’d incorporated a medley of mushrooms (white, porcini and portobello) into the carbonara mixture. The sliced mushrooms were flavoured with a reduction of balsamic vinegar and a dash of muscovado for a sweet contrast against the rich carbonara sauce.

Not every dish that I make turned out edible like any of the above, I must note. And embarrassingly, I still haven’t been able to grasp the fundamentals of cooking plain white rice. Desserts? I’m definitely a goner. In my last attempt at something sweet, I’d wasted a few eggs, cubes of cheddar, sugar, dried longan flesh, beancurd skin and some wolfberries. Among other memorable sweet failures include a carrot cake that ended up dark brown lumps of carrot shreds, crushed walnuts and pineapple cubes that resemble...I shall not elaborate further. I did consider restarting with simpler desserts like a trifle or crepe. But I’m not really interested in either, so why waste time and effort constructing such dishes, right? I’d decided that I should just stick to what I enjoy making the most – savouries. :D

Ah Kow and Tai Wah Bak Chor Mee - Hong Lim Complex

There's no doubt that my favourite Singaporean dish is bak chor mee (bcm) or minced pork noodles. I'm always impressed by the strong memory of these bcm sellers in remembering each customer's order because, as simple as a serving may look, the combination of ingredients is endless - from the types of noodles to the optional liver to the addition of chilli paste to a choice of either dry-tossed or soup, etc. Oh, and eat-in or takeaway ar?

I was rather contemplative that morning, deeply affected and concerned about the chaos that would take place in my hometown later in the afternoon. As trifling as it may seem, I related the bowls of bcm in front of me to life itself. You see, the Chinese believe that life is a combination of tastes, more specifically (and in no particular order) - sweet, sour, bitter and spicy. I can't think of many dishes that represent this philosophy. BCM is one of the very few. Sour comes from the black vinegar that, to me, gives the dressing it's distinctive character. Spicy is the dollop of chilli paste coating the noodles. Slivers of liver provide a tinge of bitterness while sweetness is in the broth simmered with pork bones, among other flavourful ingredients. Let's not forget the savoury taste of braised shitake slices and a piece of flatfish crisp. Of course, there's the quintessential, aromatic, crunchy fried lard bits. Imagine mixing all the above. Then imagine taking a bite. Now that's a taste of good life there. I had two bowls that morning but this pleasurable calm before the storm was not that much of a comfort, that's for sure.

I come to Hong Lim Complex whenever I can, to savour Ah Kow's (#02-42) version of bcm, which to me, is a complete bcm experience. Complete means a combination of springy noodles, optimal tang and appetizing aroma of the black vinegar, immensely soaked, soft shitake, sizable serving of minced pork, unlimited offering of fried crunchy fried lard cubes, a dumpling filled with pork, chives and flatfish powder (it's a very simple but thoughtful touch, it is) and a bowl of broth topped with seaweed and coriander. Surmounting all the accolades and respectable ratings that Ah Kow has garnered over the decades, it is this package, the complete, delectable bcm experience, that had me (and many others) returning over and over again.

As mentioned earlier, I had two bowls of bcm. One was Ah Kow's and the other was Tai Wah's (#02-42), from High Street. I had failed to notice this stall until now, thanks to a noticeable queue. And the buzzing Outram Park Char Kway Teow located just opposite Tai Wah. Initially, I thought it was a branch of my other favourite bcm stall, Tai Hwa from Hill Street, now residing at Crawford Lane. Apparently, they are somehow related, as I'd read from some websites. Their dressing was sweeter and lighter as compared to Ah Kow's while the noodles were skillfully cooked to a springy texture. The taste and choice of toppings (pork balls included) did remind me of Tai Hwa's, so that's good.

Approximately two hours after I'd left Chinatown, a group of fellow countrymen were having a picnic at the nearby Hong Lim Park. A much quieter affair compared to the other cities that joined in the call for a fair and clean election back home. I don't believe that it's an impetuous act, but one that is rational, responsible and noble. Had I been informed, I would have dropped by to say hi, at least. Seriously, to oppress, in the most distasteful way, the articulation of national issues and reformation for the better is utterly foolish.

Snowflake

The Japan! Combo. I don’t know why I like it so much. Or how did I end up choosing this over the bestseller - taroballs with whatever. Or what the heck was I doing in a shaved ice dessert shop in the first place? I don’t know. But I really like it. Maybe it’s the soy ice crush. Soy milk is one of my favourite drinks - warm, iced or frozen. Or maybe it’s the chewy green tea balls. Or the slight bitter aftertaste and artificial chlorophyll scent that work wonders with sweetened soy milk. Like Starbucks’ costly, classy soy milk green tea latte - my only choice there. I don’t know. It just tastes good. I have a loyalty card, by the way. The words Dessert Lover Club fill 1/3 of the card. Sickening, I know. And I'm just five stamps away from redeeming any item from the menu. But the Japan! Combo is no longer listed on their website. Instead, a new monthly special has been introduced. Sesame Sensation. Peanut ice with sesame balls. Great, just great.

http://snowflake.com.my/

Lunches along Sin Ming Road

Courses and talks are effective tools in improving one's field of work or study. So, it’s only right to pay attention and absorb as much information from the trainer or speaker as possible throughout the duration. I’m amazed at the constant display of immense concentration of some participants. I admit that I can’t last a full hour without drifting to la-la land. It worsens in the final hour before lunch, when I usually proceed to guessing the menu (if the meal’s catered for) or start searching for nearby eateries on the web. I do very much look forward to this breather, lunch, but would attain torpor state by the first post-lunch hour. It’s an embarrassing vicious cycle that I repent but could never break. It doesn’t help when the lunch is deliciously heavy.

Fried bee hoon at Block 22

If not for the interactive nature of this recent course, I would have easily drowsed after each good meal at the nearby Sin Ming Road.

Silkie soup at Earth Jar Treasure

The ground level of Block 22 along Sin Ming Road is a bustling lunch spot and it’s not difficult to recognize the more celebrated stalls – the endless queue at Hup Seng Duck Rice, the large lacquered jars from Earth Jar Treasure and the speedy, battalion-armed workforce of Rong Chen Bak Kut Teh. In a week, I'd tried almost every stall that's worth a queue.

Yam rice at Earth Jar Treasure

At Earth Jar, I had the black chicken (silkie) soup, which is a traditional Chinese concoction to cultivate red blood cells, and some yam rice to go with it. I'm not anaemic, but it's been quite a while since I had some silkie, which I really like, especially the smooth greyed meat and thin dark skin that melts (and sometimes, sticks to the mouth!) - the result of sufficient simmering. It's served in a typical Chinese claypot and the herbs-to-soup ratio was almost 1:3. I tore the large herbal pack and nibbled some of the more common types...because I was still hungry. And there was Rong Chen with their premium pork ribs cooked tender in a clear peppery stock that's evidently Teochew.

An individual set from Rong Chen Bak Kut Teh

Stir-fried white rice vermicelli from a tze char unit at Block 22

Down the road, there's another stretch of coffeeshops at Block 24 that I couldn't resist dropping by. Here, I only managed to try the briyani and roti prata from Sin Ming Roti Prata/Faisal & Aziz Curry. Their prata is well-known but it was the miniature version called the coin set that I found more interesting. These coins (almost half the size of a Roti Bom, hence the name) came with crispy fried skin but relatively less fluffy (due to the compressive dough-flattening process to achieve the shape) than the typical prata. Pretty addictive, these.

Briyani rice with mutton curry at Sin Ming Roti Prata/Faisal & Aziz Curry

The salted vegetable soup with duck leg at Hup Seng is easily the most memorable dish for me. The queue was long but flowed steadily. To me, it was worth the wait. The blend of saltiness from the preserved vegetable, the aromatic peppercorns, slight tang from the small plums and savouriness of the duck produced a very, very robust and sensate taste. Every sip was a delight. My small (or individual) portion came with a duck leg that was tender and flaky. I observed a customer showing the young lady manning the front (the owner's daughter, I presume) an emptied bowl and she refilled it with more of the boiling hot, glorious stock. I followed suit. Such joy, itellyou!

Salted vegetable soup with duck leg at Hup Seng Duck Rice

Oh, I'd gained so much from this course, I did. When is the next one?

Nasi Lemak at Medan Selera 223 (among other things)

Domestication, albeit reluctantly, has reminded me of how expensive groceries are these days. Every cent counts, really. But I'm determined to only lose old habits, not interests, with my now frugal financial management system - something that I'd learnt from some multinational corporations. It's doomed to fail but I guess it'll be a good learning curve.

Frugality has led me to shop at discounted gift certificate or coupon websites. Most, if not all, of the products and services offered are of a leisurely nature than necessity. And I’ve been a stalker cum customer for a month now. Hear me being foolishly paradoxical here.

One of the coupons that I'd redeemed was for a few hair treatment sessions. My friends and relatives can attest to my evident hair loss problem and I must say, are more concerned than myself. With a significant, shocking discount, I thought it’s worth a try. Miraculous treatment or not, at the very least, I'll be able to get a diagnosis from the package, I thought.

Session 1 was a psychological war field in the consultation room. I understood the severity of my receding hairline from the scans and their explanation but to inject every consolation and solution with a special, promising treatment and its obvious advantages was too much to bear. These customized treatments are not cheap. I bargained hard, just to know their cheapest offer. Throughout the process, I've been approached by two very persistent consultants. Their marketing skills were good, no doubt. One empathetic-looking consultant said it's a pity if I continue to neglect my oily scalp and start balding at such (flipped and studied my customer profile) a young age. I must admit that I was slightly, just slightly sold at that point. Regained sensibility, I reminded myself that I came to redeem my coupon, got a diagnosis and understood my situation, unconvinced of the procedures and therefore, unwilling to pay the exorbitant amount. That's that. They'd done their best and I tried to be understanding. For courtesy sake, I'd informed them that I can't make a decision at that point as I won't be available for treatment due to my tight travelling schedule. And that I'll return when I can afford the time. They restrategized. Apparently, I can even be treated abroad as well - by purchasing their DIY treatment kits. There were many, many points worth debating there including the effectiveness of DIY kits versus in-house treatments and the content of the kit. But they are running a business and it's only right for them to sell. Unfortunately for them, I wasn’t convinced.

In the 1.5 hours of Session 1, I wondered if appearance should hold such importance in one's life. And if it's worth the cost. I'd only say yes if it's related to one's profession or that it affects one's health condition. Why bother when my family, good friends and (ex) girlfriends have been accepting of my different shapes, sizes and looks throughout the years? No one seems to think less of famous figures like Bruce Willis, Prince William and Vladimir Putin just because they are balding, right? With my head wrapped under the steamer, I felt ashamed. But at least I now know that my scalp's ridiculously oily. So, I should perhaps wash my hair 21 times a week to unclog and prevent more blockages.

Speaking of good friends (I've digressed too far and wide in this post, haven’t I?), we were at Medan Selera 223, another uncharted territory for me, much like the hair treatment center. At night, it’s a busy and crowded al fresco foodcourt that tests one’s vigilance in securing a seat. Reward comes in small packs of nasi lemak with savoury, mildly spicy sambal that’s best smoothened and flavoured with a couple of soft-boiled eggs. And there’s the list of usual beverages like teh tarik and Horlicks to keep the conversations going. Here, affordability means that it’s able to attract people from all walks of life. Regardless of the buckets of dripping sweat (it’s quite hot and humid here), worn out clothes AND receding hairline, everyone’s having a good time. And that’s all that matters, isn’t it?

Medan Selera 223
Jalan 223,
Petaling Jaya
Selangor, Malaysia

Sundown 2011

At Sundown 2011, I'd recorded a personal best timing in the 21 km category. I must admit that this would have been impossible if not for the wider roads (as compared to Standard Chartered Singapore Marathon 2010 at Sentosa) and the relatively flat route. The Deaf One's sound advice on pacing was a great help too.

My last meal before the run was a pack of mixed rice (with sweet and sour pork, and some greens) at 3 pm to carbo-load ahead of the 8 pm run. By the time I'd crossed the finish line, I was famished. The smiling attendants handed each finisher a medal, a can of 100 Plus, a bottle of mineral water and a banana. It was one of the tastiest bananas I'd ever eaten - the usual Del Monte-sized kind that you can get anywhere, only sweetened with a sense of accomplishment and pride. One banana was obviously insufficient. Not five, even. Then came the announcement of free candy floss and popcorn for all runners. I opted for the popcorn, despite the queue. It was very, very good. How good? Popcorn good - crunchy, caramel sweet, buttery, aromatic. It puts those soft, overpriced cinema ones to shame. I'm inclined to place Garrett's next to the cinemas' but I've only had it once, so....anyway, Sundown 2011's popcorn rocked.

Post race activities were aplenty, mostly involved food, naturally. I liked the performing bands that night too and must have stayed for a good 5 songs before boarding the shuttle bus back home, which was delayed for 30 mins. Traffic was congested as half marathoners began departing from the venue. Had I known earlier, I would have just chilled and stayed to watch the most talked-about (and unfortunate) match between Barça and the Red Devils.

I reached home around 1 am, did my laundry and decided to have a quiet celebration of my achievement with a bowl of Prime Taste la mian laksa endorsed by Olivia Ong. I'm not much of a laksa (or Olivia Ong) fan but this is one of the very few instant noodles that's sold in individual packs (no more buying in bulk as I'm trying to reduce my instant noodle intake) and inexpensive. Predictably bland, I added whatever I could find in the fridge - a bag of coriander and an egg. They were definitely not taste enhancers but at least the stomach's filled at 4 am.