Crispy chill in the morning air.
4 seasons in 1 day
World’s best Chicken & Peri Peri Sauce
Wine Country
21 Nov
swirls of syrup and golden glory
I was browsing through the Cafe World cookbook and this new addition leapt right out of the page at me. I’m not sure which part of it caught my eye first though;”buttermilk” or the visual temptation that was a stack of golden pancakes, sinfully drenched with maple syrup topped with a flourish of butter.
That fired up a search on Google for buttermilk pancake recipes and dug up a gem of a list of breakfast places.
Once upon a time, my favorite Brunch buddy and I dreamed up a list of cafes & other foodie places to go; the mere concoction of that list had our tummies in a rumbling frenzy and our hearts tizzy with excitement & anticipation.
Alas, the list is no where to be found now though methinks my Brunch khaki’s hunger for a scrumptious brunch still remains.
It’s been a long time, my friend. But maybe and perhaps, when your deadlines are temporarily over & done with, we could venture out again once more.
*Picture taken from www.shiohochiak.blogspot.com
10 Nov
sway.
I’ve always been a dreamer
I’ve had my head among the clouds
Now that I’m coming down
Won’t you be my solid ground?
3 Nov
Say hello to iO
“Fwap!”
The cashier shook open the iconic white & red paper bag as my heart leapt in somersaults and beat faster than it ever did for all my eyecandies combined. An euphoric gurgle exploded at the base of my throat as I desperately fought the urge to punch my fist in the air and shout “YES!” in a happy dance.
Several months and a 3 hour wait later, I am proud to introduce you to iO.
Meet my brand new white iPhone 3GS.
1 Nov
Denial
You know you’re addicted to Cafe World on Facebook when:
- You plan your menu around your access to the computer 3 days in advance
- Stay up late to serve Crackling Peking Duck even though you have a pounding headache
- Set an alarm on your hand phone to serve a Triple Berry Cheesecake because of a glitch in #1 AND wake up immediately when the alarm goes off unlike work days.
Not that I have such symptoms.
Just saying . . .
17 Oct
Smells like bull.
Au pair savaged by police dog after handler let it loose in her bedroom
By Beth Hale
Last updated at 11:39 PM on 16th October 2009Injured: It took five minutes to get the police dog off Agi Toth’s legs after officers allowed it into the house where she works
A nanny has been left scarred after a police dog burst into her bedroom and bit her.
Agi Toth, 24, was listening to music in the top-floor room and did not hear officers pursue suspects into the building.
It seems the police were equally oblivious to her presence. They threw open her bedroom door and released the snarling Alsatian.
It charged - probably thinking it had found its prey - and sank its teeth into her left calf.
In the seconds before the dog latched on to her, the Hungarian au pair had time to look up.
‘At first I said hello, because I did not think anything was wrong,’ Miss Toth said. ‘Then the dog attacked me.
‘The policeman tried to stop him but he couldn’t.
‘It was so painful. I was so scared. It was like having lots of knives stuck in my leg.’
It took the dog’s handler some time to coax it into releasing its grip. Miss Toth was left with a series of deep wounds on her leg.
She was given a tetanus jab and put on a drip delivering strong antibiotics.
The tooth marks in her calf could not be stitched up because of the risk of infection.
After a series of hospital visits for treatment, she still needs to make return visits to her doctor to have her bandage changed.
According to her employer, Jan Kooy, the police have not offered Miss Toth a formal apology or contacted her since the attack.
Miss Toth, who is studying English, arrived in the UK in July to help Miss Kooy and her husband Hans Poulsen with their three young children.
The incident unfolded at Miss Kooy’s home in Clapham, South-West London on September 29, an hour before Miss Toth was due to pick up her employer’s daughter from school.
Police are understood to have visited a halfway house for ex-offenders a short distance away. When they arrived a group of suspected robbers fled.
They jumped from garden to garden behind the Victorian terrace, and even leapt into a school playground - hotly pursued by police.
Police dog: The animals are trained to bite and hold on, which is what caused the injuries to the terrified nanny’s leg
The suspects saw Miss Kooy’s basement door had been left open while builders carried out work.
They ducked inside and went up the stairs into the house. Two of them eventually clambered out of a bathroom window and on to the roof.
Last night Miss Kooy, a credit analyst, said: ‘They knocked down the trellis at both sides of my garden and ran past the builders into the basement.
‘When the police arrived they apparently shouted “coming in with a police dog”, but Agi was upstairs with her door closed listening to music and didn’t hear a thing.
‘According to her the police couldn’t get the dog off her leg for five minutes, but I’m sure it seemed like five hours.’
Residents in the family-dominated street are campaigning to have the halfway house, one of two, relocated.
‘This is just one of a number of incidents, and it could have been so much worse,’ said Miss Kooy.
‘Parents fear for the safety of their children. We feel like we don’t have a lot of power.’
A police spokesman said an internal investigation was under way, which will look into whether the dog acted within its training.
Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1220970/Au-pair-savaged-police-dog-handler-let-loose-bedroom.html#ixzz0UA2dT1Lm
I don’t know about you but shouldn’t the crux of the issue lie in whether the dog handler had reacted appropriately? Afterall, the dog wouldn’t have attacked if he hadn’t let go of the restraint?
14 Oct
Friends Forever.
Before leaving for Hanoi, my mom told me that the Vietnamese ate dog meat. At that point of time & when I was in Hanoi, I was open to trying it if I ever chanced upon such an establishment there. During that time, it didn’t occur to me how dogs would be killed. My mind didn’t connect the dots; isolating the act of killing from that of serving up the meat on a plate.
Until 10 minutes ago. An ex-colleague shared a youtube video on Facebook that documented how dogs were transported, held captive, murdered & cooked. I didn’t have the heart to finish watching the clip & gave up when the murderer held up a club, ready to brutally bludgeon a captive dog fighting for its life, to death.
While it would have been a once in a lifetime experience to taste dog meat, it is one experience in life that I can do without. If anything, watching that video has reaffirmed my belief that we do not need to consume foods outside of our normal food groups.
The brutality involved, especially against Man’s best friend makes us, as human beings unworthy of their doggie love. Furthermore, there is no valid reason for such inane, mindless killings. Regardless of the reasons for eating dog meat (to keep warm in winter etc), alternatives are readily available which do not justify the innocent loss of dog lives.
I never thought I’d ever say this but the thought of going vegetarian suddenly doesn’t seem that bad now.
That and I’ve never been more ashamed than now to be a Chinese. Singaporean Chinese nonetheless, but still unfortunately, Chinese.
11 Oct
Hanoi: the city of many faces
Leaving.
The time was half past 4pm. Mdm. Chong & I were standing in the Budget Terminal while she was on the phone with my aunt. She passed the phone to me. Across the other
end of the line, my aunt reminded me to be extremely careful (she repeated herself 3 times) & told me that I was having fun at the expense of their hearts. Touched as I was with the entire family’s display of concern for my safety, my vision was slightly blurred. Not quite knowing what else to do with Mdm Chong, we decided that I would check in & she would go home.
She finally after watching me get through the passport gantry.
I while my time away in the shops, which were surprisingly good mix. There was O’Brien’s, Secret Recipe and even a bookstore. This was scores better than my last trip back in December. As I stood waiting at the gate, my mind couldn’t help questioning the sanity of my action.
Was Hanoi really as dangerous as everyone thought it to be? Was I really out of my mind to want to go at this on my own?
But it was all to late to have any second thoughts. Afterall, the money has been paid & I was standing at the boarding gate, ready to embark on the first mini adventure of my life.
Arrival.
The plane landed at Noi Bai Airport at around half past 8 local time. During the 2 1/2 hour flight, I’d made my first acquaintance chatting with a Singaporean couple on their way to Hanoi for a vacation as well. Quite interesting how an ephemeral bond can start with a request to borrow a travel guide.
The airport was quiet & it appeared we were one of the last flights to arrive in Hanoi for the night. Most of the customs counters had closed save for a few officers with tired uniforms. In that moment silly as it was, I was in awe to be in the presence of actual Communists. I knew they existed but it was just an eye-opener to be breathing in the same space as them; they didn’t look as demented or tyrannical as the media has portrayed them to be. I wanted to take out my camera & take a picture of them but was a tad worried that it might warrant a night in the lock-up.
Luggage collection was a it of a hoot. Passengers from the entire flight stood around an empty conveyor belt for what felt like some 20 minutes staring. As if more concentrated staring
would suddenly conjure our baggage to appear right in front of us.
The 45-minute drive to the hotel turned out to be an hour-ish long drive with plenty to see & hear. Despite the hour of night, the road to the city was congested due to a traffic accident. Along the way, I saw a lorry of caged live pigs drive by, a motorcycle with 4 riders zoom past and countless blares of the car horn as motorists weaved their way in & out of different lanes.
When we neared the hotel, we were enveloped by a night market selling all sorts of toys. The safety lines between pedestrian & vehicles were blurred and then rendered invisible as we were stuck quite literally in throngs of Vietnamese families with their children out to spot some buys at the bazaar. Colorful feathered masks, plastic toys, gigantic plush toys were everywhere, as were the people. It was a sight to behold. People who have seemingly so little but have so much before them at that moment.
Tanh, my driver sighed in frustration as he sounded his horn at people in his way.
We finally got to the hotel near 10pm local time. The friendly night manager was quick to give me my room keys & a local across the street helped with my luggage to my room. It wasn’t a 5-star hotel (not that I’d have the budget for 1) but it had everything that I’d need (1 queen bed put together with 2 single beds, 1 bathtub, TV
with AXN, Starmovies & HBO & most importantly, a very strong Wi-Fi signal).
Day 1: The city of early risers.
It was 6am local time & I woke with a jolt. The lightness of the world outside the window told me I had overslept. Alarmed, I searched for my phone & was relieved to find that I was early, too early in fact.
Already, life was bustling outside in the streets when I stepped out for the first time. Street stalls were crowded with locals in the midst of breakfasts, fellow tourists wandered the streets and the random cyclo operator called out to prospective passengers. A jaunt around the corner found the arts cafe that was featured in the travel guide as well as a clutter of similar cafes & silk shops. Shopping & eating was going to be a breeze.
By the time I returned to the hotel lobby, the tour bus that was taking me & a bunch of other people to Ha Long Bay had come. It was a relief to see Asian faces on the bus. It was after we’d picked up everyone including 3 Caucasians when the guides started speaking. It turned out the Asians on the bus were actually Japanese. I was the only non-Japanese on the tour. And so began the very long & sleepy drive to Ha Long Bay.
Along the way, we stopped by an emporium which sold Vietnamese produce such as ivory &
horn accessories, silk products & hand-made art pieces.
We boarded a refurbished Chinese junk at the jetty. In the distance, mists shrouded the magnificent limestone isles; a storm was brewing it way towards the bay & was expected to hit the same night. As it turned out, it pays to be a cheapskate; people who’d signed up for the 2 or 3-Day Ha Long Bay tours would be unable to proceed because the impending arrival of the storm made it unsafe to sleep on the boats & had to be canceled.
To the unsuspecting, the sunny day bore no other signs of the storm. There was a deck on the boat so most of us clambered up for a spot of sun & an unobstructed view of the limestone isles. The sun was bright & bore down on us enough to make us perspire but the easy sea breeze that blew dried our skin and stirred havoc with our hair.
The limestone karsts & isles were breathtaking & in a strange way made me glad to be alive. The road to see these wonders may not have been treacherous but the sight of these resilient works of nature that have survived every
thing from feudal naval battles in its early days to the Vietnam War & the privilege to be there with it as a part of its history was overwhelming. There’s a curious calm & tranquility in simply just being there.
We stopped by a fishing village where lunch was to be served on the boat. I shared a table with a 25-year old Swedish who was 2 months into her 5 months of solo travel in Asia and a family of native Vietnamese who’d emigrated to the States. They were in Hanoi for a holiday before visiting their native town.
After lunch, we headed for a tour in the caves to catch a glimpse of the intricately formed stalactites & stalagmites.
One thing I’ve learnt about visiting caves- there are always steps involved; steep, uneven stone steps with fatal falls if one were not careful. After the cave, we were bundled back onto the boat & the bunch of us headed back for the top deck to cool down with some sea breeze.
Day 1 was rounded off with dinner with Gypsy, Kak-Shannon & a new friend – May. We trooped into the French cafe I’d seen earlier today in slippers & had a meal fit for a millionaire (quite literally). The dinner bill amounted to more than 1 million VND.
Sleep that night was somewhat fitful. Gypsy’s hilarious dinner tale of her shaking bed must have stuck with my sub-conscious mind because on top of experiencing a shaking bed, I also “heard” an entity speak to me & was rendered immobile for a while. I’d never been so grateful for the daylight that came in the morning.
Day 2: The City of great eats.
It slipped my mind that my 2-night lease of the lake view room was up that day & I was going to have to change to a city view room. So after my shower began an epic race against time to blow dry my hair, pack up my laptop & stuff everything into the luggage for the hotel staff to move it into my new temporary home later in the day. I made it in time & even managed a few spare minutes to skim through a Marian Keys novel before Gypsy, May & Kai Ru arrived to pick me up in their cab for a breakfast interview with Steve Jackson at KOTO.
KOTO, short for Know One Teach One is a non-profit restaurant & vocational training program that started off to give impoverished kids a chance at a better life by taking them off the streets & imparting skills for a career in hospitality. The moment we stepped into KOTO, it was apparent that KOTO is more than just a school & a means of a new lease of life for its trainees. There is an easy camaraderie that’s shared among its trainees & trainers. The atmosphere is heartwarming & casual despite the finer trappings in its decor. While the service standard may not be first-class, it is precious for its honest heart & earnest. Over a delectable breakfast of banana pancakes & french toast with poached pear, Steve Jackson shared with us how many of KOTO’s graduates have returned after a successful career to take on positions as trainers to impart their knowledge & experience to new generations of trainees.
After that, it was to Hoa Soa for our cooking class. We started with the most expensive grilled fish & sticky black glutinous rice. What we didn’t know, was sticky black glutinous rice was Pulut Hitam. I didn’t know that the grilled fish di
sh was also known as Cha Ca, a Vietnamese grilled fish dish & ended up paying $10 to eat it for breakfast 2 days later.
The afternoon, we had a baking class that would send chocoholics into a tizzy. On the menu were Chocolate Mille Feulle, Chocolate tarts, Chocolate Profiteroles & Eclairs.
Due to the storm at Halong Bay, many of the guests at Golden Sun 1 Hotel which I’d stayed at were stranded at the hotel. So they shifted me to their sister hotel 2 doors down which was supposed to be as good as Golden Sun 1. Golden Sun 3 was nothing like its sister hotel. The room was stank with the stench of stale cigarette smoke, the room faced the streets which meant I’d to bear the brunt of the incessant honkings from late night to the wee hours of the morning & was infested with a never-ending flow of mosquitoes. To top it off, the room was right by the stairs & I could hear people coming up & down the stairs through the night.
I skipped out on a Vegetarian dinner with Gypsy & May that evening. Kak-Shannon & I popped by Little Hanoi instead. It was a quiet cafe located on a street corner that specialized in baguette sandwiches. It’s location made it very ideal for people watching by the window seats. The rice paper roll that we ordered was fresh & crisp; the fries that came with my burger were to die for with their ketchup/mayonnaise sauce. It was here that I discovered Lotus Tea.
After dinner, we adjourned to Highlands Coffee located on the 3rd floor of a nearby shopping complex. It was raining by then & the cafe provided a vantage view of the city just winding down. The dying cries of car horns echo in the streets as Hanoians scurry across the roads. Empty roads glisten in the rain and all that’s left are the twinkling lights of the buildings within radius.
Day 3: The City of Faith
It’d been a hellish night in the temporary hotel that popped by at Golden Sun 1 to request for a transfer back. I was on my own for the most of today. So, I finally took a walk around the lake. Hoan Kiem Lake also known as the Lake of the Returned Sword carries a legend of its own. According to the legend, emperor Le Loi was handed a magic sword called Heaven’s Will which brought him victory in his revolt against the Chinese Ming Dynasty . After he’d won in the battle a great turtle Golden Turtle God (Kim Qui) rose from the lake one day & retrieved the sword.
Present day Hoan Kiem Lake is a favored spot for Hanoians to practice Tai Chi in the early mornings & evenings. The temple as well as the Pagoda on the center of the lake are famed tourist spots.
The beauty about Hanoi, is that you’ll never be lost. Not for long anyway. Somehow, the streets are all connected so even if you make a wrong turn somewhere, you’ll always be able to find your way back. Either that or simply ask any local on the street. Most of them are friendly enough to point your way to where you wish to go. Otherwise, traffic policemen in their observation points are also pretty useful.Walk with no destination in mind & keep your eyes open. You’ll never know what you’ll find, especially in the little nooks & quiet alleys. I found a quaint temple and a display window of antique cameras, not together in the same place, of course.
At least, this was how I wandered my way to the French Quarter. St. Joseph’s Cathedral is the crown jewel of the old quarter. Flanked by street cafes & quaint boutiques, the Cathedral is famed for its precious hand-painted glass within its walls. Unfortunately, it was closed when I was there during the lunch hour.Instead, I went browsing in the shops nearby. That was where I stumbled on the cap that would cost me USD$30. It was simply too pretty to not buy.
It occurred to me that I hadn’t bought a single souvenir since arriving in Hanoi & I sought to look for some on my walk back to the hotel. In the silk shops near the hotel, I came across of shop selling shawls of every imaginable color. Unable to resist, I bought 5 shawls at USD$27 from the shoplady after much haggling & 2 silk tie sets which came with cuffl inks & a handkerchief.
After the shopping, I had Bun Cha for lunch at a cafe near my hotel. It was the most glorious thing ever, savory & a bit tangy. Bun Cha consists mainly of rice noodles & grilled pork. It’s served with a teacup of sauce t
o dip the rice noodles with; sort of like the Vietnamese version of Soba.
When I returned to the hotel, they’d already transferred my belongings back to Golden Sun 1. Kak-Shannon came by soon after & we headed to Restaurant Bobby Chinn’s to meet the girls.
After they left for their train to Sapa, I crossed over to Cafe Cross for dinner. While waiting for my burger (yes, again) to arrive a male server came by & commented on my handwriting & started to strike up a conversation. It was getting a bit chilly what with storm clouds blowing nearer. The burger was nothing to shout about but the crab & corn soup which I ordered after was worth the wait. Steaming hot, and thick with fresh crab meat, it was worth every dong and way better than the ones in Singapore.
Day 4: The city I’ll be back for again
There’s a melancholy that woke up with me because it was my last day. Despite the disturbance to my sleep that the incessant honkings has caused, a part of me had come to accept it as part of Hanoi. So I set off to finish whatever shopping I had undone & see places I hadn’t yet managed to see.
1st up on the list was Cha Ca La Vong on 14 Cha Ca St which was supposed to be famed for its Cha Ca (grilled fish). The shopowner was a curious man in his late forties & borrowed my travel guide to browse while I waited for my Cha Ca.The shop was inconspicuous for a century-old business. At 100,000VND, Cha Ca’s a tad too expensive for a 1-dish meal for me though it was considerably more palatable than the one at Hoa Soa. Despite the shrimp paste which was generously heaped into my bowl for me, the shrimp paste together with the cilantro (I hate cilantro) countered the oiliness of the fish & gave it a tangy freshness and made both ingredients palatable.
My initial intention to scope out some cheap buys at Hong Da Market was aborted when I managed to get lost & ended up at an unrecognizable street. It was still early when I got to St. Joseph’s so I stopped by Moca Cafe for a snack.
Closed at the main entrance, the way to enter the Cathedral is through a side gate. Once inside, the caretaker would gesture for all caps or headgear to be removed as a sign of respect.
Out back, there was a wall that depicted the story of Christ. The priests’ quarters & a church school for kids were loca
ted at the back of the church. The happy squeals & laughter of children could be heard from a distance.
It was back to the hotel to pack in new buys from the afternoon & then to Little Hanoi to wind down & simply to linger in the essence of being in Hanoi- people watching. It was late afternoon in Little Hanoi. The quiet inside the cafe was in stark contrast to the traffic outside. In the distance, a street hawker with a bouquet of fat, plastic balloons tied to her back was bouncing along the streets. A group of students pondered by the curb on where to go; their uniforms rumpled by their boisterous youthfulness.
In the dim, coolness of Little Hanoi the server uncaps my last bottle of Hanoi beer & proceeds to expertly pour it into my glass without it foaming over. My order of fries & Strawberry Lemon Cake arrives as more travelers trickle in, lured by the air-conditioned comfort & the promise of good food.
I drain the last bit of my beer and stroll back to the hotel somewhat unwilling to leave and contradictingly, looking forward to the simple supper of porridge & fried prawn egg at home.
Hanoi was nowhere as dangerous as everyone, including myself had thought. While the accounts of other travelers who’d shared experiences robbed or pick-pocketed in Hanoi on travel forums may have been true, I guess it all depends on the level of individual self-awareness one has when in foreign countries. Afterall, one is as likely to be robbed in a developed country as that in a less developed one. The issue here is to be prepared & be careful.
I met the Singaporean couple whom I’d met on the plane to Hanoi hat the airport on the return flight. They hated their entire trip in Hanoi because they’d been ripped off by cab drivers with modified meters as well as the disrupted plans due to the typhoon.
Solo travel has given me a sense of liberation. It was everything that I’d expected and more. The freedom to see where my feet took me, to change plans with every turn in the street or to simply have no plans at all have lent a delicious thrill to the 4 days in Hanoi. Most of all, it is the beauty in the transient relationships that bond over something as simple as a common place of birth or comrades of the same circumstance. Where there is no need for names or contact information & a mere snapshot to capture us all in the same place at the same time one upon a time.
It is the wonder of knowing, seeing & walking actual streets that turn into the places that I want to go all translated from the guide book to reality. The realization that I am able to take care of myself in a foreign land and the comfort in the knowledge that I want to do this again. Soon.
5 Oct
flashback.
I was walking up the stairs on my way home and saw something that stilled my steps.
A pair of black men’s shoes were left, 1 side of each shoe on separate steps on the stairs.
As I continued my way up, I couldn’t help but keep a lookout of any personal belongings left around.
Afterall, that was the last thing my Dad did before leaping from the ledge on some block of high rise flats 12 years ago.
He placed his belongings on the stairs, scattered on different floors and then jumped from one of the higher floors.
1 Oct
7.18pm, 30 Sept 09
- Cafe Cross, Hanoi, Vietnam
Cliched as this sounds, I find it hard to believe I’m already on my last night here, in Hanoi. I’m sitting outside the cafe across my hotel waiting as the kitchen whips up a cheeseburger for me. An ice cold bottle of Hanoi beer sits at the edge of my table; above me, the sky glows an ominous purplish hue. Rain seems to be approaching tonight.
A clyclo operator idly rides by amid flashing lights & beeping horns from its more modern counterparts. Jack Johnson streams through the cafe. I’m sharing this open spare with 2 other Caucasian travelers & have once again been mistaken for a Japanese by the serving staff.
The beer is light & smooth against my tongue & swallows with a bittersweet malty aftertaste. It is hard to believe that time has come to go when I’ve only just started to know this city. The city of early risers, unruly traffic loud with the siren of honks & its people continually striving for a better tomorrow despite all the adversity.
My burger arrives; the perfect companion to my beer albeit not too authentic considering the environment.
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