My Present, My Now, Happy Birthday to Me

Posted on August 27, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Mummy and botak me

What’s the obsession with the Number Three?
I must insist that it doesn’t suit me
I squeezed and I scrunched but could barely free
Any memory of turning thirty.

I can hardly sing, I didn’t win the grammy
I dance like a klutz, quite like a zombie
A philanthropist I’m not, I’m no Gandhi
I can’t bake although I worship Jamie.

Well the walk down the aisle must definitely be
The highlight of being two and thirty
And even then I almost nimbly
Did a somersault in my snugly tied saree.

My hairstyles have ranged from short to frizzy
My hair colour would have made Renoir envy
Isn’t it a mystery why as a baby
I was hairless and bald just like my hubby?

These were the years of discovery
New interests like painting and making jewellery
And then came blogging, my latest hobby
It was a match made in heaven, like me and Kenny.

I suppose I should count myself lucky
For weekend B^*ches like dear Hairy
Who spends a good hour or three
Explaining to me his love for KFC.

Dear God, when I grow to be forty
Let my boobs be big and firm and perky
Let my waist always be twenty three
Inches, not metres, possibly?

Oddly enough, I am not wrinkly
It must be the char siu I eat regularly
For fat is surely the instant remedy
No crow’s feet, but I’ve become rather pimply.

The elderly are definitely quite happy
Just look at my idol, F-B-Bee
I must be like him, benevolent and jolly
A baker of pavlovas most legendary.

Yes, age, welcome, I stand and greet thee
Take me, mould me, and keep me healthy
I’ve never been happier, this is my ecstasy
My present, my now, happy birthday to me.

Please sir, may I have some pavlova?

Ochacha @ The Gardens

Posted on August 21, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Topsy Curvy Brownie

In my household, Bald Eagle will attest to the fact that desserts aren’t really my thing. Given a choice, I’d always pick savoury over sweet. On the other hand, Bald Eagle is Kelantanese and everyone knows how much the Kelantanese like their sugar. (Opposites attract?) But the interesting thing is, when two people have been together for so long, their traits start rubbing off on each other, especially their mannerisms and their tastes. Sometimes they even start looking like each other. Which would be tragic in my case. It does take a certain head shape to be able to carry off the bald look and hey, we all know I’m not it.

Nowadays, I hardly say no to a good dessert (especially pavlovas). But Ochacha doesn’t carry pavlovas. Not many places carry good pavlovas. Sometimes, one has to beg good baker friends to make pavlovas for them. Sometimes, one resorts to dropping broad hints.

U Call This Tiramisu (no seriously, that’s what it’s called)

Ochacha does carry a wide range of green tea desserts and beverages, though. The Ochacha Latte is a nice way to kick things off. The brownie, I felt, despite having a strong chocolatey presence, had absolutely no matcha flavour despite the thick green cream. I had a lower expectation of the tiramisu as I was warned by a more seasoned patron of Ochacha that the green tea flavour was mild, but even he agreed that the tiramisu was good that day, with a good matcha flavour and a lovely creamy texture (despite the lack of alcohol). The moral of the story is that it is always good to approach a subject with an open mind instead of having preconceived expectations.

And sometimes, even chefs have bad hair days.

Ochacha Latte

Haiku for Edamame

Posted on August 19, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Was it in 2006? Or 2007? I discovered you in a Japanese restaurant, and I glanced at you thinking that you weren’t very delectable and pushed you away for other meatier stuff. After all, you were just a bean.

You appeared before me, over and over again after that. You didn’t give up. Soon, it wasn’t just at Japanese restaurants. It was also at friends’ parties and supermarkets. I have to give it to you, you were persistent.

My first taste was with hesitation. I licked you. You were salty. I bit into you. You came into my mouth. It was love at first bite. You are a little…nutty.

I like you, Edamame. You may be Japanese, but I am colour blind.