Stop all the clocks

Posted on December 9, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

(An excerpt from Stop all the clocks, Cut off the telephone by W. H. Auden)

In the wake of the tragedy that has befallen the people of our nation, I sanction myself for allowing myself to be dominated by selfish thoughts about my own personal mishaps. One thought keeps going through my mind – Why do bad things happen to people? The knowledge of the ever familiar Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle of shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, testing and finally acceptance haunts me, simply because I know I haven’t reached the end yet. Sometimes, I wonder whether blaming one’s self is cowardice, that is, in not wanting to accept reality and in denying one’s self the course of true mourning. In not recognising the full extent of my own loss and in masking it with chirpiness and smiles and assurances that I am okay, in telling myself that the sun will come out and everything will be zipadeedoodah zipadee-a, I have slowed down my process of recovery.

I make no apologies for the fact that I can’t smile today.

(Note: In the words of HairyBerry, this post is not about human relationships)

How To Make Your Man Happy For Under RM30

Posted on July 31, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Roast duck and mango salad (with char siu surprise)

With the way things have been in the political scene, it’s hard to think of only food all the time. But if one had to just talk about food, how about that Samantha sushi scene in Sex and the City, eh? I cackled till I cried. And talking about Sex and the City, I was reading Kevin Cowherd’s article in The Star the other day where he said that men should refrain from watching this movie…let your wife watch it with her girlfriends, bla bla bla….well, I have only one thing to say. Bald Eagle is a real man, baybeh, coz he surprised me with tickets and laughed throughout the movie. But then again, how many straight men can confidently tell you that Blahnik isn’t the name of the latest space shuttle to take off from Russia? And talking about men, I’ve been faithfully listening to Flyfm for the longest time, for 40 minutes in the morning from Mondays to Fridays which adds up to a gazillion jillion hours, but I’m finally going to change loyalties. Why? Have you heard their latest lame car-giveaway-to-Mazlan-almost-a-scam thingy? Whoever came up with the idea ought to be sacked. Anyway. I’m in a dilemma right now. I don’t know what to listen to in the mornings. I’m stationless. Decisions decisions. And talking about decisions, if you’re like me, a devoted wife who wants to provide only the best to her husband every night (and I’m still talking about food here), I am sure you would be occasionally faced with mental block. It is even more of a challenge for me ever since we resolved, 6 months ago, to eat salads for dinner at least 3 times a week. I mean, how many different ways can one present a bunch of leaves? But I suppose when you’re fast approaching the unmentionable years (grey hair, sagging breasts, et al.), it is wise to eat less and eat healthy. Or at least, I try. 20% of the time. Anyway. Bald Eagle was one very happy man this week thanks to me. (We’re still talking about food here.) I fed him this very easy to prepare roast duck and mango salad (with char siu surprise). The base consisted of a bunch of rocket and coriander leaves, a fistful of sweet and crunchy taugeh (bean sprouts), julienned red capsicum for colour and chopped ripe mangoes for sweetness. Because it was beginning to feel thai, I added a packet of glass noodles (pre-soaked to soften), and then tossed all the items in a sauce made with olive oil, ground palm sugar, a dash of sesame oil, peanuts, minced dried shrimps (fried) and the sauce that came with the roast duck which I had purchased from a chicken rice stall in Lucky Garden at 9.00pm after a hard day’s work. Well, we all need cheat tactics. The sauce had a garlicky sweet flavour, so I didn’t bother adding more garlic. While waiting for the roast duck to be chopped by the kindly old man at the Lucky Garden stall, I saw a tiny piece of glistening fatty char siu. If there’s one thing I cannot resist, it’s char siu. Especially if it’s fatty. A little bit unpremeditated (and unhealthy!), but like my philosophy in life and everything else, cooking should be an adventure. So in went the roast duck and the char siu. I squeezed the be-juice-s out of 5 calamansi limes onto the pasta to lift the flavour, and I can tell you this – Bald Eagle was one very happy man that night. (Are we still talking about food?)

Chawan, Bangsar Baru

Posted on June 18, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Like most double-income married couples with no kids, our Saturday mornings are spent at home, with breakfast either on the patio or in front of the TV, while the part-time maid cleans the house. Our usual argument would be about who had to stay at home. “I wanna go to the gym.” “No way, dude. Last week, I took care of the maid. It’s your turn.” “But I stayed with her for four weeks in a row last month when you said you had to work weekends at the office.” “That doesn’t count. Work’s work. Work doesn’t equal play. 3 Work weekends off = 1 Gym weekend off. I have 2 more work weekends to redeem.”

Never argue with a woman. Especially if she knows how to count with her fingers. Especially if she has all twelve of them.

Breakfast on a Saturday morning with half of the Just Heavenly duo is such a pleasure. Part of the pleasure is in escaping the responsibilities of staying at home on a sunny Saturday morning, and the other part is in hearing Nigel’s loud booming laughter reverberate through the cafe.

Chawan had just opened a few days earlier (at time of writing, it has been open for over 2 weeks), and we were curious to try this place having seen it being used as a meeting point for the last BN team campaigning for the losing candidate. I like the interior -grey walls and bare stones encased in galvanised wire netting, surrounded by steel and cement structures. Situated at a corner lot, the idea of keeping the cafe open with lots of air is a great one as it appears more welcoming. So one inhales the fumes from the passing vehicles along the busy Bangsar stretch, but at least the illusion of wind is there, albeit a manufactured one.

Food is typically Malaysian fare. The nasi lemak bungkus served before 11am is great despite its RM3 pricetag for a simple packet without any frills. The nasi kunyit served with thick chicken curry is delicious, but it would be better if they served it with more curry. Nigel doused the Ipoh koay teow in soy sauce before he ate it. Soy sauce is the boon for many types of food to make the food more palateable. It tasted fine after the special treatment, of course, but I probably wouldn’t try it the next time. The rice dishes looked a lot more tastier. I liked the keropok lekor, but it was a teensy bit too soft. Do try the mango juice….thick and pulpy. There is also an amazing variety of local coffees; the Kemaman coffee is one of their bestsellers. At the end of the day, flavours were good, but there were little deficiencies in other areas – texture, quantity, value-for-money. There were also some initial teething problems which I hope they have sorted out. Waiting half an hour for a packet of nasi lemak bungkus just doesn’t cut it. Judging by the crowds that throng this place, I suppose they’ve improved. Having said that, I thought the staff who served us were great. They were all friendly, courteous and knowledgeable, and these traits go a long way. Would I go to Chawan again? Without a doubt.

As for my Saturday mornings in the near future, I shall be putting in my share of work when the hubby goes off to Austria for the Euro 2008 finals while I’m stuck at home taking care of the maid. It’s a fair world after all.

Also see masak-masak.

Chawan (at the former Devi’s Corner), Jalan Telawi 3, Bangsar (opposite Bangsar Village). Open daily from 8am till late.

Food pictures:

Nasi lemak bungkus