You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September, 2007.
I have a friend who talks funny. She talkslikethat and sometimes (actually that happens veryfrequently) she is at a loss for _________. Lately, I’ve been verydisturbed by her inability to spellproperly, and p.u.n.c.t.u.a.t.e at the right places, and because she is a tabloidslashmagazinewriter, whose articles halfofSingapore reads (the other halfofSingapore apparently reads t r a s h), I’d make that veryverydisturbed.
ohthehilarity!
…is getting very side.stitch.hilarious.
ohthehilarity!
Wholegrain bread, generously smothered with Nutella, and topped with a dollop of (low-fat or not) cottage cheese.
It was this morning’s spark of brilliance, and it was absolutely, lipsmackingly divine.
We’re headed for the MSAC again tonight for a swim. I’ve decided that I get a far better work out in a 50m pool than a 25m one (even though technically that shouldn’t even matter) because it’s less boring that way and hence I end up clocking in more miles. It’s not the distance that kills me; it’s the repetitiveness of scaling a lap that bores me to death!
So despite the exorbitant entrance fees, I am totally in love with the complex’s sprawling grounds. And perhaps it also has to do with the thrill of stroking the waters that Michael Klim, Grant Hackett and the like (Thorpey just doesn’t do it for me) have competed in.
Photo credits: Steelwool
The cousin’s parents are down for a visit, so we took them to the Dandenongs for some flower-powering at the Tesselaar Tulip Farm for the Tulip Festival.
After a few wrong turns and backtracks, we finally arrived at the farm, and were greeted by the most refreshing burst of colours – rows and rows of tulips that stretched on for miles. Red, fuschia, yellow, orange, magenta, violet…it was astonishingly beautfiul!
Photo credits: Steelwool
Danny’s Takeaway – Burger with the Lot
Image taken from The Age.
A 1.5km swim at the sprawling MSAC grounds and an artery-plugging spree of burger and fat chips after.
And don’t even ask me about my detox week. I needed my caffeine to get me through braindrain day yesterday so I figured that since I’d officially broken my detox regime (or whatever of it that existed), I might as well keep at it.
But ooh, burger and fat chips were aaabsolutely, lip-smackingly divine.
I couldn’t help but notice that not a single mention was made of her husband.
Because it’s been a while since I last did a lunchbox post.
Antipasto sandwich of baby spinach, marinated eggplant & olives, bresaola (or breseola), seeded mustard and cheese on Bürgen soy & linseed bread.
Homemade sandwiches can be so incredibly tasty and wholesome, it’s been a month of sandwich-eating but I’m still lovin’ it!
Having officially put myself on a self-declared detox week (after reading about the benefits of liver detox), I decided to pay Zoom Organics (a little shopfront selling organic products) a visit during lunch today.
I browsed around the shop for a while and picked up some organic cocoa powder and organic chocolate. I figured that since I was there, I’d order myself one of those organic fruit juices a la Boost juice. Naturally, since it’s supposed to be detox week, I opted for the detox juice – carrot, apple, celery…and wheatgrass. Wheatgrass. I thought hard for a while. The green mucky thing has received much bad press from even the culinarily adventurous, but I figured it can’t be that bad, can it? After all, it is detox week!
So I gamely placed my order at the counter. One thing I couldn’t help notice was that the cashier looked extremely frantic, or in Singspeak, very kan cheong spider. One would’ve thought that all these organic places would have their staff looking more relaxed, calm, and perhaps rather ohmmm zen *cue in sound warp*, but this one certainly looked like she was either on steroids, had not enough sleep, or it could be that organic food isn’t good for your nervous system at all.
Anyway, I digress. After what felt like an eternity of waiting for my juice, it finally arrived. I took a big slurp of it…and well, it was gross. Pretty gross. If not for the apple and carrot juice that helped to mask some of that raw, grassy taste, I might’ve gagged.
I still have two-thirds of a cup of the juice left, and I’m still trying hard to finish it. Next time, I think I’ll just stick to green tea.
The Sydneysider sister, M, came visiting over the weekend and bunked in with me. Like all “sisters” do, we spent a good deal of our Saturday afternoon shopping at the factory outlets, eating yong tau foo and painting the town red. Perhaps the highlight of her entire trip here, albeit far too short, was the durian party we had inside my room (as we feared that those husky little fellas would scare the living daylights out of my non-Asian housemate and drive her, or me, out of the house).
We bought some frozen ones from the Asian grocers that were as good as what you can get in Geylang. We defrosted them in a pot of warm water and snuck them into my room. And it was there that we had our stink fest as we huddled by the backyard door, braving the night chills and devoured every.single.seed. That thick, yellow, creamy, pungent fruit that sends chills of thrills down the back of a true blue pure bred Asian. All this, while the Jman shook his head at us disapprovingly.
Ooh man, but it was sheer bliss, pure heaven…you bet the both of us went to sleep very, very satisfied.
