A Cartier Event

Going through some of the pictures in the "Meeting" album of my phone, I came across these that I'd taken a couple of years ago.

To be honest it feels like a lifetime.

Nine years. 

i don't exactly remember what my mind was like at that time. 

What I do remember is that the consultancy was just picking up, I was still working to make the complicated nature of our work sound coherent to others outside the industry, and I was learning to sound confident all at the same time.

It wasn't just for a professional reason that I agreed to go there.

There was a personal one too.

Victoria Concert Hall (due to SSO) has always been associated with classical music, opera performances, oratorios, and the like. Born and bred here, local citizen me- with years of classical piano training behind her- had never stepped foot inside, not for a concert, not for a performance, not for anything, never before. 

There had never been any opportunity. 

But this evening came one. 

And I wasn't going to miss out.

Can't say I was very comfortable though. 

Guess I'm not very good with formal events, especially those that need networking.

I mean, I'm better now, but those days weren't good. 

In any case, the event this evening was an awards ceremony cum networking opportunity. 

I can't recall if the networking part came first or after or if there were two before and after.

But there was a bar, a sort of lounge-like space, with a beautiful, classy-lit, candlelight-reminiscent glow where there was wine and canapes and finger foods, and you could have a glass whilst chatting with someone. 

My colleague took a glass of wine.

Me, I hung out by the side watching everyone and anyone around me.

A part of me was curious what they were talking about.

Another part of me quietly wondered how it was that they seemed to know each other, as if they had all met somewhere before. 

After a while came the awards ceremony and we all trooped into the hall. 

No assigned seats, we simply sat wherever. 

The ceremony began. 

Here's where it gets a little funny. 

The name of this event, I don't recall, but I know it involved luxury goods conglomerate brand Cartier, likely main sponsor- it was their awards show. 

What I can be sure is that it was a ceremony to celebrate the achievement of women, particularly those who were entrepreneurs, start-up founders, or those whom were making a difference in the industry they were in. 

Honestly... I didn't pay very much attention during the course of the ceremony. 

So if you ask me today, I have no idea who the presenter was.

I have also no idea who the women were, or what they did. 

But there's something that still resonates with me after all this time. 

"Wow."

That's the word I kept hearing from winner after winner after winner as they went upstage to receive their awards. 

And silently I wondered why. 

I mean, ought there not be more that these lovely, good-looking, capable, intelligent women could say? 

Surely there could be more expressions of thanks that they could say as they shook the hand of the presenter and collected the award?

But perhaps that be the answer. 

Sometimes in life there ain't no need for lots of words.

Sometimes in life everything that needs be said can be wrapped up in a single word, one, or two. 

There may even be a reason for that choice of a word.

I won't know.

I won't ever know. 

Much time has passed since then.

I've changed a lot.

I've also grown a lot. 

In that sense I'm glad I took the picture of the canapes I had that evening. 

Blur as they are, they remind me of that one evening I was there.

And they remind me of the new friend I made. 

A New Wallet

I got a new wallet for myself. 

It wasn't a spur of moment thing.

On the contrary I had been wanting to change my wallet for a while. 

Not because I don't like it anymore but because the time has come for a radical change of the day to day. 

This wallet holds a great deal of memories to me. 

It's been over two years, almost three, since this pastel blue wallet was gifted to me. A blessing this wallet has been. Not only has it seen me through a house move, it has also seen me through several rounds of travel in the region, from Thailand to Malaysia to Korea to Vietnam to Hong Kong. It's funny how I never thought about it much but I can't remember the number of times I stuffed this wallet inside my handbag and brought it all around Bangkok, and Busan and Seoul and Melaka. I also brought it around Saigon.

More than just the good times, this wallet too has seen me through two, almost three challenging years. For much of this long season, once a week I would put the wallet aside and transfer cards and money to another purse. I've since stopped. Too troublesome. So I just place my wallet in my bag, and leave it there. 

Interestingly enough, feeling it through the thin fabric of my black tote bag has brought some sort of comfort to me during those short few hours. 

But the wallet now has become a little faded and its insides torn. 

By right it should not be an issue using it. 

But for some reason- maybe I wanted to change the financial fengshui- so I decided to shop around for a new one.

I knew what kind of wallet I didn't want. 

I knew what kind of wallet I hoped to get.

So I went around the places I thought I might be able to find.

And I got it. 

At Turtle in Chinatown.

Say hello to Tuxedo Meowwww my new wallet.

I got her for the pictures.

Needed them for a spark of cheer, that's why. 

I've been using her for a few weeks now and thankfully she's pretty good.

A bit slimmer than the other pastel blue one, and her pockets are a bit tighter (I have had to adjust the cards a little) but she has the coins area, the notes area, the part where I can see my bunny card, she has a neat structure, pleasant to look at, and whilst quirky and whimsical, color-wise, from a distance at least, is mature to the eye. 

All Them Coffees

So there I was, rolling around with some of the pictures in my phone when I came across a whole series of coffee pictures that I hadn't previously realized.

It wasn't that I didn't know they were there. It was that I didn't put much thought into them when I took the pictures, and after all this while for some of the pictures I don't actually remember just where I took them, or with who I met. 

Still it is a bit of a waste to not treasure these pictures, so here they are, and let's see what of all these I can remember. 

Okay, truth be told, none of them I remember. 

I don't know where these cuppas I had.

I also don't know with whom I had. 

Some of them were probably from coffee houses in random hotels where at different points in time I had meetings with an American-Italian client, his party, some of his partners, and our party. Being an Italian he was very insistent on the quality of his coffees and he always made sure everyone at the same table had one. 

But which is which, which I drank at where, and which hotel, I don't know. 

What is obvious, though, is that I used to take a lot of lattes or cappuccinos. 

Nearly every cuppa here has beautiful latte art.

I don't take that many lattes now- the milk no longer gets to me- and in fact, unless I'm trying to cool down the system, or if there're aren't options, I don't even take coffee with milk or sugar anymore. 

That being said, it's not that I don't remember every cup. 

I remember the one with the 'abc'- that one I had at a coffee place somewhere on Balestier Road near the Whampoa side. 

But I no longer remember which hotel. 

It's a little strange how I don't even remember nor recognize most of the cups, save, again, for one. 

The fourth cup, with the thick red handle. 

It looks like one which Hong Kong-based Pacific Coffee used to serve their coffees in, but there aren't any more of those outlets in Singapore now, there haven't been any outlets in recent years (I think) and it wouldn't surprise me if this cup actually were from somewhere else. 

You know, I'm thankful for all these coffees. 

Not being the cafe culture type who spends money on coffees to people watch and pass the time, every cup means a prospect meeting, a business opportunity, something serious to discuss and talk on. 

Every cup means money. 

Of course, that doesn't mean I don't spend money on coffee for my own. 

I'm not stinge like that.

I just happen to be very particular where I buy them from. At best I like them local- because, oy, support local and price wise they're gorgeously affordable. 

Best part, I like them strong.

Depending, sometimes I like them sweet. 

But importantly, I like them takeaway.

So here're two cups, one from Ya Kun, one from Hans, and yes, sipping from them little cup lids is my joy. 

Don Q's Salmon Dinner

The pictures of my dinner this evening at Don Don Donki didn't turn out as nice as I hoped they would be.

Might it have been that I was hungry, might it have been that we were eager to begin eating, or might it have been the lighting, but these be the pictures I took, these be the pictures I have. 

We got three kinds of salmon this evening.

First one was salmon sushi- reasonably fresh, a cheerful bright orange color, pleasantly chilled- and although this might be a typical no-big-deal kind of meal to some, it were the colors, the rice, and the taste that absolutely drew me. 

Same thing too for the Aburi salmon sushi, which, in recent years, has become one of the things I look out for whenever I'm at sushi places. Aburi salmon has become one of my new favorite sushi- not so much for the slightly burnt taste that the flambe sushi has- but the soft (sometimes not so soft) texture that I get when I eat the semi-cooked salmon with the rice.

It might not look so pretty here, mind, but the teeny weeny balls of cod roe did give off a bit of crunch eaten together with the mush of the slightly chilled sushi, and the large, solid grains of rice.

My favorite, however, had to be the bowl of salmon don which presence at the table turned out to be quite a surprise. I had thought 20 pieces of sushi be more than enough for the both of us, but my friend said the sashimi looked nicely cut, fresh to the eyes, and most importantly, cold. 

So he got it. 

Working my way through the pieces, it got me thinking of a time where sushi (especially salmon sushi) was not as affordable, or even accessible as it is today. It was that kind of season where sushi could only be consumed in legit good classic Japanese restaurants where the word convenience did not exist. 

Later conveyor belt sushi came in and things changed. 

Perhaps there might be those who have eaten sushi since they were young, but no, not me. 

Until I was 18, that is.

And up till now, I haven't forgotten the time I unwrapped the sealed piece bought from the convenience store in tertiary school, savoring the taste of salmon with sushi rice (plus a little wasabi) for what I think might have been the very first time.

A Block at Toa Payoh

Hardly is it, I tell you, that I get writers' block whilst trying to write something about a housing estate. 

Yet here I am, on this day, with two deleted posts, now trying to make a third attempt to write a new one whilst nursing a brain fog that for such and such a topic I have never, not once, had before.

Truth be told, I have no idea how this post should go on.

How do I begin? 

What do I start writing about?

Should I begin with the gorgeous, and surprising view from the upper floors of the block?

Should I begin with the void deck and the community space on the ground floor of the block? 

What do I do?

Maybe in recent days I haven't dropped into as many blocks as I should, but, really, what can be so hard? 

Basics of basics, this is a housing block on a street called Lorong 6 in a mature residential town of Singapore called Toa Payoh. 

For those who don't know Toa Payoh, well, she's a residential estate in the Northern part of the Central region of the country. 

What makes this estate significant is that she holds the title of being Singapore's second oldest satellite town, and Singapore's first to be built under the (then) (newly set up) Housing and Development Board. 

Not just that, she also holds the title of being an estate visited by dignitaries, important Persons of State, and Royalty. 

Queen Elizabeth II visited Toa Payoh twice- once in 1972, once again in 2006.

So this is a block along Toa Payoh Lorong 6.

What makes this block so unique?

I don't know. 

But that don't mean she's cookie cutter.

That also don't mean that there's nothing special about her. 

Nope, every block in every housing estate is unique. 

Not merely because of their aesthetics or the color of their external walls, but because of the life, the living, and the stories they hold inside. 

When it comes to HDB flats, there's so much to be told.

Whether it be behind each door, whether it be at the void decks or the community spaces or the shops, or even, along the corridors. 

It doesn't matter whether it be a clean, empty corridor devoid of belongings, or if it be a corridor with shoes and umbrellas and shelves and small cupboards or other paraphernalia, it's a story.

There're some corridors that have lots and lots of stuff all tossed and turned in such a way that you know they've been used not too long before. 

However there're also some corridors that have lots and lots of stuff neatly stacked, neatly placed, and you won't know if the owner has just used them, or used them some time before. 

I was, admittedly a little intrigued by the corridors I had the opportunity to see on this afternoon. 

I had thought, like many other a HDB, that there would be semblances of living here and there along the corridors. 

But no, some corridors here were almost empty, even, clean. 

I was a little surprised. 

But once I got past that, I loved how the late afternoon shadows fell so symmetrically on the concrete floor of the block, I loved how the light, filtered through the leaves of the trees, lighting up the neat, sturdy-looking corridor with its bright, calming glow, and I loved how personal, how intimate it made the corridor feel.

For once it didn't feel like the concrete of the corridor was glaring at me. 

The corridors of this block offered me a variety of views. 

If the view outside this particular floor had been gently filtered by the presence of trees right outside the walled concrete, other corridors gave me contrasting, even polarizing views. 

So disparate were they that you wouldn't think they were of the same block facing the same side. 

No (publicly planted) trees there to block out the light and filter the view out the corridor parapet here. 

No horticulture (municipal) plants too, to double up as a natural barrier between the light outside, the light inside, or enhance the scenery with a tinge of green. 

From the highest floors one looked out across the road of Lorong 6 into the blocks- and hawker center- of Lorong 7, more blocks on the other side of Lorong 7, then those of Lorong 8 behind, with a glimpse of Lorong Chuan and maybe even the tiniest sight of Serangoon estate in the distance beyond. 

Such height also meant you got a glimpse of the schools, including Pei Chun Public School and Madrasah Al-Arabiah Al Islamiah side by side.

The view of them blocks on Lorong 7 and 8 were the northeast side. 

But there was the northwest side too, where the closest, nearest landmark was that of the nursing home with its logo gazing across at you. It wasn't very overwhelming, I'd say, because there were also view of the blocks close by, and, if I'm not wrong, slightly further, those of Lorong 4.

If from the highest floors the corridor view was unblocked, the view on the lower floors was specially, deliberately, beautifully filtered. 

Not with chunky metal add-ons that sometimes detract rather than enhance, but with plants- all of which made me think a little of camouflage. 

At first glance one might wonder if it were a bit messy, but then the sunlight broke through, and all of a sudden I saw the shadows on the tiled floor, and I felt the immersion in a sort of garden suspended nine storeys in the air where the flowers glowed and the leaves shone.

It weren't just the plants that caught my eye.

It were how aesthetically they had all been arranged.

Someone had placed very careful thought into this garden. 

And the same someone had also put plenty of effort into making sure the plants were all prettily pruned and taken care of.

I don't think I'd ever seen such a gorgeous garden on a staircase landing before.

In any case, this block here at Toa Payoh might seem non-descript like any other block in any other random housing estate, but she does have features that make her distinctly her own.

Like the lift landing.

Which, I have to say, was one of the largest lift landings I had ever seen.

It would have been lovely had I been able to take more pictures but there seemed to be a lot of people going up and down the lift that afternoon and I didn't want to get seen with Chonkycam in hand.

Not so good lar.

So all I have are these.

It's not obvious, but you can tell that these aren't the smallest lift landings at HDB blocks in the country. 

So large are they that I think they're literally gathering points for the residents on those floors. 

As in, you can almost see a child's birthday party taking place, balloons, all, or even a catering set-up being arranged there. There's more than enough space for all them trays of food, plus the drinks corner, plus the dessert corner, plus the random tables and stools and chairs. There's enough space even for games. 

Yes, I might be overstepping here but hey, who knows, maybe at one time that's what this landing might have intended to be. 

Sometimes it makes one wonder what the 'hood was like back when this block was still new, when the water tank with its signature design was still new.

Was it the same as it were today? 

Seeing the block right now, it is a little hard to tell, and I don't want to read too much either.

What's important is what's there right now, who's there right now, and how important the home means to them. 

This afternoon I didn't wander very much around the entire block- I decided not to- so went back down to the ground floor where there is a sheltered walkway, a very well paved outdoor path, and a sort of small community garden with pots and plants that I know not what, but was being taken care of by an elderly man who was diligently watering them with a watering can.

Avocado & Salmon Bowl @ Refuel

Some of you will know I'm not a fan of new places.

As in, I am not the type who will be so eager to go try.

On the other hand I am the type who will be questioning, skeptical, unsure, and half critical (sometimes) until such time I take my first bite of the food, and repeat, doubts, mind, otherwise. 

Such was the attitude I had when my friend told me of this new cafe he had discovered and suggested, as part of the birthday month, we go try. 

It wasn't because of the location, mind. 

Who cares whether or not the cafe is at Blk 744 Bedok Reservoir Road in Reservoir Village? 

Coffee cafes and brunch cafes have been opening up a dime a dozen in our local housing block estates, and most of them, I have to say, have not only not disappointed, but are amazingly worth a second, third, fourth, even fifth time. 

I wasn't concerned about the location as I was more about the food. 

Especially after we got there and I realized the menu was really, very good. 

Now, one expects the (typical) brunch fare, but oy, they had things like Bacon and Pancakes, Croffle Eggs & Avocado, Truffle Mushroom Bruschetta, and Bagel Pulled Pork & Cheese. 

All these were just part of the All Day Breakfast, and which, to be honest, the Bagel Pulled Pork & Cheese, and the Croffle Eggs Avocado I had wanted to try. The Bagel had fried egg and fried shallots and came served with tortilla chips. The Croffle had miso scrambled eggs and mushrooms and tomatoes. 

Sure, some might want a Mentaiko Waffle, which, I have to say, sounded quite appetizing- it had chicken karaage- or even the Refuel Pancakes, which here came with scrambled eggs, salad, maple beans, three pancakes, and a selection of either chicken sausage or smoked salmon. 

But then there were the mains to look at, all of which too, I have to say, sounded equally good. 

It was quite a challenge trying to choose between the options of Salmon Mentaiko Don, Miso Baked Salmon, Honey BBQ Ribs and the Unagi Don.

Not to mention the varieties of pasta they had, which included lovely things like Meatball Gochujang, Bacon Mac & Cheese, Mentaiko Mac & Cheese, and the all regular Spaghetti Carbonara. 

I was all for the Honey BBQ Ribs, because, mind, so seldom is it that we have ribs these days, plus they had whipped/mashed potato and coleslaw. 

But the toughest fight was between the Miso Baked Salmon and the Salmon Mentaiko Don. If one had the salmon baked in miso broth, plus broccolini and mushrooms, whilst the other had teriyaki salmon cubes plus mentaiko plus avocado, trust me, it was hard to decide. 

In the end we chose the latter. 

And it was not a bad choice, I tell you. 

The food was absolutely appetizing. 

And the portion was perfect. 

What surprised me most was how they had measured out the portions carefully, so much so that none of the flavors, nor texture, overwhelmed. nor overpowered each other. 

Not only was the dish aesthetically pleasing- just look at the symmetry of the avocado and the perfectly cubed salmon- but the portion of mentaiko sauce was also appropriated just right that it almost felt like you were meant to have your meal eating spoon by spoon of salmon and slice of avocado with the mentaiko sauce and rice all mixed together. 

I ought to have tried how it tasted like. 

But because this evening we were sharing, so everything we ate separately. 

I first took a few cubes of the salmon with the rice. 

I then took a few slices of the avocado whilst my friend had the rice and salmon. 

Back and forth this way we went until the entire bowl was finished. 

This Don was so good.

The salmon was tender, with a distinctive chew, and despite it being served under a ladle of umami-type sauce, you could still taste the fresh of the salmon underneath. No staleness, no mushy softness whatsoever. The flesh was firm.

My only gripe was that it seemed a bit too small for two to share. 

Perhaps that were their measurements; that one order- bowl, plate etc- be more than enough for one person, but so satisfying that it would feel too little for two. 

I'll want to have their Honey BBQ Ribs next time. 

Or maybe their Bacon Mac & Cheese.

Pretty sure both be good. 

We opted to have a dessert this evening.

And although, like the mains and pastas, there were a fair bit to choose from, we decided on a Pancake Stack, enabling us to try their pancakes whilst getting to have an ice cream, and salted caramel sauce at the same time.

Their pancakes  were really good.

I had worried they'd be like flapjacks, or McDonald's Hot Cakes, which, although I love, won't have the same feel as fluffy, soft pancakes will. 

Theirs might not be as thick as how the Americans do theirs, but it had a softness, a smoothness, a faint sweetness, easy to cut, and so nice to have. 

I tried them with the ice cream, without the ice cream, with the salted caramel sauce alone, without the sauce. 

Pancakes kosong really did taste just as good. 

Perhaps next time we might go for two desserts instead of one. 

I want to try their Salted Caramel Waffle, I also want to try their Biscoff Croffle and their Homemade Apple Crumble. 

Apple Crumble always sounds like a great way to end the meal.

Then again, any dessert will. 

Near The Verbatim Office

I don't know why these pictures are saved under the "Meetings" album inside my phone.

Especially since I hadn't gone there for work, I hadn't gone there to meet anybody, and the only reason I'd gone there was to make an exchange of a portable battery that happened to be still under warranty. 

So, the Verbatim (Singapore) office sits in an industrial building on a street called Genting Lane. What's interesting about this area is that it means different things to different people. 

Some people know it for the office that they go to five, six days a week.

Others, however, know it for the clothing distributor company that (I think) still has their office there, and maybe a print/publishing department or two that sees good-looking people from Beauty and Fashion make their way there. 

This afternoon we weren't there for this nor that. 

Instead we were here because my friend wanted to switch his under-warranty battery and the store had told him to come here to Verbatim's main office and warehouse instead of doing the switch at the store. 

So we did.

It wasn't difficult to find the place. 

The Verbatim office is located at one corner which you find right after you step out from the lift and walk along this wide, sunny corridor. 

One thing I love about industrial places is the space. 

There is just so much space you won't get if you plonked yourself, say, at a designated office building just about anywhere. Sure, you might get great lighting, air conditioning and carpeted corridors but they tend to be narrow, there's no space for more than two people to walk along the corridor, and god forbid you try to put anything too heavy or bulky without security complaints. 

No such thing at industrial buildings where the space is designed for work, for storage, for shifting, for movement in and out all day, all night. 

It might not be the same for everywhere but here at least the corridors were wide and sunny and even the staircase landing had its wide square space that I'm not sure what it were intended to be used for. 

I found myself a little fascinated by the staircases. 

Rather, the staircase landing, because, really, whilst there are usually such spacious landings in industrial buildings, not every place comes with a window. 

This one does.

Now, don't laugh at me for my fascination. 

I'm not, and never have been adverse to industrial spaces.

Mr. Radioman had always worked in one, beginning with a factory at what I think might have been either Jurong or Lower Delta, then Chai Chee, then back again to Lower Delta. 

And then after that came the time when the company I worked for decided it were wiser to be in an industrial space rather than a shop house. 

The thing about industrial spaces is that they offer that heavy duty, 24/7, workaholic kind of environment where it don't matter what you store, how you store, what you place, how you arrange- just so long as it's not dangerous and it does not affect your neighbors left and right. 

Generally, nobody cares. 

There's no one to bother who comes in at what hour and stays how long.

There's no one to fuss about their wood floors if you so much as place a CPU down on the floor.

There's also no one to check on you about whatever electric load you're using because they're concerned you'll short-circuit the whole place down. 

Everything that needs size and volume has already been catered for. 

This is a place for the heavy duty. 

But beyond that, what I like best about industrial space is that it's like a blank canvas. Some might find the place too rough tumble and coarse, but step back and you'll see that the bare bones space actually gives room for one to explore and be creative and do up the aesthetics whatever way you like, however you like, whichever way you want just so long as it's within the rules.

You don't have to deal with a carpeted floor unless you want to.

You don't have to deal with a perfumed space unless it's your own room scent that you chose. 

There's no concern that you'll be moving things in and out at all hours of day, or night. 

The aircon's yours- no central aircon that will get switched off.

And you don't have to worry whether or not your workspace will look personal, or professional. 

It's entirely up to you.  

If you want the workspace to look and feel like a living space, no problem, throw the work desk and office chair and armchair and carpet down. 

If you want a space barebones with nothing else but a mug and wires, also no problem.

It's your choice. 

You don't have to worry about anybody else's aesthetics except for what your work permits, and what you want. 

At one time my workspace was very homely, complete with plastic drawers, bamboo mat, garden armchair. 

Perhaps next time I might make it a bit more spa like, a bit more relaxing, with faux grass and carpet and little flowers everywhere and maybe, even lavender-scented air.