the Caveman BBQ skewers

It was one of those days that we felt like having a little beef for dinner but not an entire steak with potatoes and the like. So we googled around and decided on this place at Orchard Central.

The vibe at Caveman BBQ is, in one word, atmospheric.

Stepping through its doors is akin to stepping into a cave where the walls are dark, the overall lighting is dim, and the individual grilling stations at the tables are reminiscent of cosy little fires.

It is a place where the menus are laminated and you are given a marker to write down what you want, how much you want and because it is so easily erased, invites you to order, order and order some more.

Most of their meats are presented in skewers, so what you do is to fit them into the slots on the grilling stations and watch as the electric flame does all the work. Vegetables- really large portions- are served on platters and which you arrange on a grill raised high above the flame.

We decided on beef chunks, chicken pieces, and salmon cubes. Second from left, suspended over the glowing flame are the salmon cubes. It is a test of one's skill, honestly, because timing is important here. It is a delicate business. A little too slow and you get uncooked meat. A little too long and your meat becomes overcooked.

Good thing we got the timing right. The salmon was tender, the beef was juicy with its own jus and the chicken was tasty, but for me, what made the meats really special was the seasoning.

See, many a BBQ place offers you a standard array of sauces but there's none of that here. What they offer you at your own table are jars of dry seasonings- crushed peanut (with a bit of sugar mixed inside) and chili powder- that you can take as much as you want. 

Moreover, your dining plates are specially designed for you to place the seasonings within each section. Diehards with discipline for structure and order will love being able to place the peanut in one row, and the chili in the other. It would make for a pretty sight, but I skipped the chili powder, so all you see is a heap of brown.

I liked the peanut with the tender, slightly salty, melt-in-your-mouth salmon. :)
 

Most of the extensive menu here consists of the grilled stuff. There's beef, lamb, chicken, pork, vegetables, noodles, and even dessert where I'm sure I will try the grilled bananas one day.  But there're other main dishes too, like this lovely huge bowl of egg and tomato soup that came served to us smooth, thick, and with chewy sago inside.  

beef bits @ Pizza Express

 

This might sound a little strange, but if there is one thing about this Hamburger Al Formaggio thin crust pizza that I like, it is the rocket lettuce that they scatter so generously on top of the pizza.

See, many people would heap praises on the béchamel, the crispy, crunchy beef bits, the beef ragu, the thick, gooey mozzarella cheese and the fresh, lovely cherry tomatoes, and I do, too, but what I really, really do love about this whole pizza are its leafy greens. 

To me, the rocket makes all the difference.

Faintly bitter, it pops up at the back of your tongue and is a surprising complement with each bite of the pizza. No more does your pizza taste merely salty, chewy, crunchy, crispy, or even juicy,  now there's the rocket which adds a bit of raw texture and throws that hint of bitter. 

I like it.

Beats eating the leaves alone as a salad with vinaigrette, and it was rather fun trying to prevent the lettuce from falling off the pizza,..

The menu at Pizza Express looks to be a carefully curated one. It is one where you don't get the usual Hawaiian (ham, pineapple and cheese) but it offers you a variety of classic pizzas, Romana pizzas and even localized ones- there was a Laksa one, I saw. And they have salads and starters and desserts.

We haven't tried their salads or desserts, but we did have one of their starters. They call it Doppio, and essentially it is a dish of cute little bread balls served with three dips of garlic butter, spiced tomato and pesto.

a birthday in July

I'm four months late writing this.

I should have written this months ago, but with everything placed on the backbencher...… let's just say that I'm glad for the understanding of the birthday dude the same way I'm glad for the fact that this year I could finally get a gift without needing to ponder, plan and consider.

The gift of a watch was presented during the birthday dinner at the Crossroads Café in Marriott Tang Plaza. We've had a few celebrations here over the years ranging from high teas to lunches and dinners. We chose dinner this time.

Particularly because we have our favorites amongst their offerings. The birthday dude loves the freshly shucked oysters, the salmon sashimi and the slices of roast beef. Me, I have my love for their dessert range.

Between us we shared plates of oysters and thick-cut salmon sashimi. The dude had a portion of noodles (the joys of being Chinese), a bit of double boiled soup, a bit of roast duck, a bit of roast chicken, a bit of dim sum, and slices of roast beef with a leg of lamb along with sauces and oils. Why anyone would choose to attempt a slice of roast beef with avocado oil I don't know, but hey, one's palate, one's choice. 

Let's just say that much of the dude's dinner was dedicated to the five plates heaped with oysters and two plates of sashimi.

I chose a more varied platter. Let's see, I had a bit of pearl barley, a bit of gnocchi, a bit of steamed fish slices, a small portion of noodles, one crystal dumpling with chives inside, a bit of char kuay teow and a bit of the roast beef which I tried with some sort of jam. There were finger sandwiches that I took for the fun of it, and then I decided on a plate of lettuce salad which I added some cheese, some olives and a liberal smattering of couscous.

Of course thereafter came dessert, which, as cliché as it sounds, with the spread that they have here at Marriott, it is really true that you just have to leave space for.  

I had a couple of sponge cakes, a couple of matcha cheesecakes and two scoops of ice cream. The dude decided on chocolate everything- little cups of dark chocolate mousse, a whole plate of cute chocolate fudge cakes and a single scoop of milk chocolate ice cream. 

It was a great dinner, really lovely, really fun, really delicious, but the celebrations didn't end there.

 

Not that the dude expected it, but a few days later, there was more ice cream- one whole block of Viennetta chocolate ice cream with clean cut swirly patterns specially chosen because it was a childhood favorite, and a boxful of cupcakes topped with some sort of sprinkles and rich buttercream. 

 

 

 

a Tuk Tuk Cha meal

This place has become more than just a dessert hangout to me.

At one time, I thought that would be all Tuk Tuk Cha was- but after having more of their meals, I have come to realize that this place is indeed more than just a spot for toast cubes with dip, thick toast, ice cream waffles and milk tea.

It is a place for spicy tom yum boat noodles.

It is a place for beef soup noodles.

And it is a place for beef rendang.

We've gone to a couple of outlets- my Co Diner and I- and it's funny how each time we tend to eat the same thing that we did the last time, the last, last time, and the last, last, last, time.

I guess that's what happens when you have your favorite dish at the café..

I like the beef soup noodles. Not only are the thin flat rice noodles prepped in such a way that they stick together when they're first served, which is exactly how I like them, they've got plenty of beef too. Three different kinds, don't ask me which is which, I don't know, but I like the ones that look like they're beef strips and are really soft, slightly fatty and super tender.

But it is the broth that draws me in the most. See, where beef soups done Chinese style tend to be clear (and sometimes tasteless), this broth here has a lovely brown color, a nice smooth texture, and a rich rounded taste. 

The Co-Diner has a special love for the beef rendang. The rich vermillion color, the distinct sweet taste, the floury potatoes and the chunks of beef make for a great dish that goes well with the soft, perfectly fluffy steamed rice.

It might seem amusing, but I find the steamed rice here particularly appealing. You don't get the hard rice grains that sometimes come served with mixed economical rice, and neither do you get the moi quality of Teochew porridge. Here the rice is steamed such that you can see the grains, you can count them even, but scooping out each spoonful is like eating a warm rice cake, moist, warm, fluffy, full of warmth, and full of soul.

her Stable chair

If one must know, this is the chair that Miss Brown was required to sit on after her stroke. 

 

No more was she allowed to just sit about anywhere as she was wont to do. No more was she allowed to sit on the flimsy, cheap black foldable chairs as she often preferred to do. And no more was she allowed to hang things on the chair she was going to sit on.

 

This chair, and its sisters, became the main pillars of support throughout the house. One was placed in her bedroom near the door where she could hold to the back as she swung herself out of bed. One was placed at the dining table where she could sit and have her meals. Then another was placed near the wall so that she could sit on it on her way to the kitchen.

 

The one in her room eventually doubled up as a hanger and shelf which she would toss her clothes over the back, hang her sling bag at the corner and place some of her belongings on the seat.

 

But the rest, especially the one at the dining table, they remained as they were. 

therapy Post Stroke

She was back in the hospital yesterday afternoon to see the lady doctor.

And she was d*** hungry, having had no breakfast because of some stupid blood test she was taking. After drawing her blood, she had one small cup of hot Milo, and then she went out  with her caregivers to the nearby mall for lunch.

She remembers this mall.

They used to come here for meals in between her morning and afternoon therapy sessions. There was some Chinese cafe on the third floor. Today they went for porridge and dough fritters and soya bean drink. They used to eat salmon and rice back then during the early post-stroke days. A lot of salmon and rice- and she always felt guilty eating such good and expensive meals.

The funny thing is, if anyone had told her that three years had passed since her very first session, Miss Brown would not have believed it. It felt just like yesterday when she was pushed into her first session seated on a wheelchair.

The first few weeks she was in her wheelchair, a very cranky one that was stiff and made a lot of noise. Subsequently, she slowly made her way in, using the technique that her rehab therapist had taught her on the very first lesson.

They were fast; these therapists. Second lesson only, and he had her out on the escalator going up and down and up and down, practicing until she got it right. Every time she came, he revised with her how she ought to walk. He made her practice walking along the long corridor. He showed her how to climb stairs and then made her do it step by step by step. 

But he wasn't here today.

The other therapist who'd played the computer game with her wasn't here either. He used to teach her how to play this game in the room where she'd move her arm with this machine and pick up apples and put them in the basket. She wondered if they still had the game.

Only the lead therapist was there. She recognized him when he came over, but she didn't want to tell him how she was and she worried that he would ask more questions, so she didn't say anything in response to his greeting, merely nodding her head a little.

Miss Brown wondered if he'd noticed her gesture.

He probably didn't.

She didn't make those big, dramatic gestures that she used to. She didn't speak as much as she used to. And where there was once she cried here and told everyone here that she wanted to die because of all the family stresses and family problems, today she wasn't able to shed a tear at all.

Everything had changed.

The place was really, really busy now. There were people everywhere. They didn't rehab one by one anymore. They were in groups now, and it was all very noisy and lively. So different from when she got the fullest attention from the therapists.

And then there were so many people on the other side of the room now. It used to be so quiet!  

And then, how she looked... what she wore... all different now.

No more the blue backpack she used to carry. No more the blouse over her t-shirt. No more her water bottle and her hat. No more her big white comb or all her tissue papers or her biscuit. Then she used to have her bus pass on a lanyard over her neck or stuffed inside her bag.  Then she used to have her phone in her pocket or in her bag's pocket. Then she used to walk her way in.

Now her hair was cropped short and neat, she didn't know where her dentures were, she didn't wear her spectacles, she had no more phone, she had no more bag, she had no more tissues with her, she didn't have any belongings with her, she was dressed in the pale green uniform of the nursing home she lived in, and she was sitting on another wheelchair with little wheels by the side.

No, it wasn't the same anymore.

Nothing was the same anymore.


prettty foods: koka Laksa

I've written about instant noodles before.

 

I'm sure of it.

 

It comes with being Asian, and it comes with having a Hygge personality where you love cold weather because you can have something warm, and you love noodles in soup because the feel of it steaming on your face warms the depths of your heart.

 

And for someone who makes no bones about her love for noodles, instant noodles, ban mian, mian fen guo, tang hoon, ramen, kuay teow, ramyun and the like, I'm sure a bowl or two has popped up on this blog before.

 

But what I have here is not (just) a bowl of instant noodles.

 

What I have here is a bowl of Laksa instant noodles.

 

 

Specifically, a bowl of Koka brand laksa instant noodles- The Parent chose the brand-  and although my picture doesn't look Insta-worthy- because environmental lighting plays a part- the taste is as homecooked, and as wonderful as I love it to be.

 

I've had my instant noodles with soups of chicken, seafood, sesame, tom yum, duck, stewed beef, miso, shoyu, cheese, kimchi, and a smattering of other flavors, but I can tell you that laksa is one  flavour that goes very, very well with cuttlefish balls and fish balls. :)

 

No other flavor, except maybe curry, goes as well with fish balls as laksa does. It is either the spice, or the coconut. Either one or the other. :)

 

And what you see right up there is what I call personal preference.

 

Because I'm the sort who will stand by the stove or the cooker and wait and wait and wait, staring at the tiffin carrier or the pot, until my noodles turn soft, almost pudding-like, before I dish them out. 

 

And I'm the sort who likes egg and additional ingredients with my noodles, and there is nothing more precious to me than a steaming dish of noodles topped with beef balls, fish balls, cuttlefish balls, hot dogs, cherry tomatoes, fresh lettuce, and the like.

being hand-fed Papaya

So she was sitting on the couch that warm Saturday afternoon in mid January, with only her supposed caregivers- her adopted daughter and daughter's boyfriend- at home.

 

It was a dull day; for someone who had always kept herself busy all hours of the day on weekdays and weekends, to have to sit on the poky brown sofa and do nothing because there was nothing she could physically do, was awkward and mind-numbing.

 

Her adopted daughter and her boyfriend bustled around the cramped living room, but she wasn't sure what it was they were doing. They always seemed to be very busy on weekends. If having a five-day work week was not enough, on weekends they would be working on the computer. Her adopted daughter, especially, would sometimes come home on Friday armed with a stack of papers- Miss Brown didn't ask specifically what they were- and she would refer to them as she worked on the computer.

 

All this computer work seemed very complicated to her.

 

After all, her adopted daughter had gone for a three-year program after completing her A Levels, obtained a diploma in computer, and had even a university degree in computer.

 

It was natural that she would always be working on the computer.

 

However this afternoon she wasn't. Neither of them were. They seemed to be in the kitchen, or so she heard, whilst she rested on the sofa with her eyes closed.

 

"Mummy, do you want papaya? Just bought one."

 

She answered yes- even though there was no table nearby and she didn't know how she was going to cut up the papaya.

 

Her daughter brought out a bowl with two pieces of cut papaya inside. She stood there hesitantly for a while, not knowing how her adopted mother was going to have the fruit.   

 

"Haiya, I feed you lar. You cannot use your hand anyway."

 

Which was precisely what Miss Brown did. She sat there, leaned back, closed her eyes, and opened her mouth. Her adopted daughter cut the papaya and fed it to her.

 

Miss Brown knew this wasn't something her primary caregivers wanted- they were very emphatic on independence. But privately, Miss Brown relished it. For years and years she had dreamt of the day when she could rest, really rest, and she would be taken care of by her adopted daughter. She had dreamt of the time when Daughter would take care of Mother, lovingly, like Mother to Daughter.... and today seemed to be the time. 

It felt like it.

She lay there, head resting against the back of the sofa, mouth opened, waiting for the spoon with the juicy, soft papaya to be placed in. It was a blissful feeling, a trusting feeling, to place herself in the care of her adopted daughter. This was how it should be. 

But there was something on that warm Saturday afternoon that Miss Brown did not see. 

Months later it would appear in a formal document- a sworn affidavit- a statement made by her adopted daughter of which she could not reconcile. 

That on that afternoon, in the heart of her adopted daughter, there was no intention to have long-term loving Daughter-Mother physical care. There was never that thought. Instead what the heart wished for was to make Miss Brown love her helplessness, let her believe that there would be Daughter-Mother care, demand for it, hasten it forward, and then after that, leave her in the care of random persons.

Love from a Child, Care from a Child, Filial Piety and Relationship was never on the agenda.

the Waterloo Street temple

On occasion I find myself going to places that I normally wouldn't go. Also on occasion I find myself in between places that I normally wouldn't be.

 

But there are days when I so happen to take short cuts.

 

Like this day when I was heading towards Bencoolen Street from Bugis and so decided that the fastest route was to cut through Bugis Street, come out near the Fu Lu Shou Complex and then make a left towards the temple that stands at Waterloo Street.

 

It was a busy scene; it always is, over here. This is one place of worship where worshippers, even elderly ones, make a special trip for to offer incense and sincere prayers. At first I walked through the crowds, near the entrance,  politely refusing the stalks of flowers thrust in my direction by flower sellers underneath their huge umbrellas just outside the main gates.

 

I wanted a picture, but somehow I decided it seemed rather insolent to interrupt their earnest prayers, so I stepped far back from the flower sellers, took our my camera, and snapped this picture.  

meals @ Kim Dae Mun

If there's a day when I'm in the Orchard belt and I feel like having authentic, heart-warming, soulful Korean food prepared by the Koreans, there's just one place I will go.

 

Kim Dae Mun at Concorde Hotel.

 

Sure, the place isn't as snazzy or hipster as some of the bingsu cafes that have sprouted all over town, or as atmospheric as some of the BBQ restaurants along the Tanjong Pagar stretch, but when you consider that Kim Dae Mun used to be a stall at the basement food court in the same building but now has its own place.... now, that's a lovely thought, isn't it?

 

This is a place popular with just about anyone. It doesn't matter whether you're alone or with a companion. I've seen office workers here at lunch time. I've seen couples. and I've also seen individuals have a comfortable meal with their phones for company.

 

There's little to scream for décor- I'll give you that. Here you won't find beer posters on the walls, you won't find posters of Kpop groups, Hallyu artists or K-dramas, and there's no Kpop music blaring through hidden speakers. But it doesn't matter, no, not one bit at all. Kim Dae Mun is just a place that is all about the food. Go in, place your order, sit down, wait for them to call out your order, go take your food, have conversation if you're with someone, and eat. 

 

What they do have on the wall right next to the counter is a huge lit sign that shows the menu. There's quite a bit to be had. You have the fish- a full sized grilled one that you pick out with chopsticks, potato pancake, mandoos, bibimbap, beef and chicken hot plates that you have with rice, lovely soups, and ramyun.

 

I like the soups, particularly the seafood one and the soybean one, but most of the time I tend to hover my meal choices between ramyun and bibimbap, whilst my Co-Diner prefers the hot plate beef, and mandoos from time to time.

 

The portions here are fairly large, and each set comes with a single dish of banchan that you can choose. I take kimchi most of the time. The sour, sour taste whets my appetite. And my Co-Diner goes straight for the snack-like deep fried anchovies.

 

 

The bibimbap comes served piping hot in a stone bowl, chock full with chopped vegetables and the beef, so all I do is to mix in the gochujang, try not to break the lovely fried egg sitting delicately on top, and just eat, each mouthful filled with vegetables, beef, rice and all.

 

There are days when I want noodles, and so ramyun, prepared with the springy QQ texture, it is for me. Here, the dish can be served spicy, or non-spicy. I've had both, and because my spice preference is dependable on the weather outdoors, I usually go for the non-spicy version, which, with the flower egg and all, cosies me up nicely and makes me think of warm chicken soup tinged with a bit of seaweed.

 

The mandoos here are cute little fried dumplings served with a dipping sauce of vinegar and a bit of ginger, and which I find crispy at the edges with lots of chives and meat filling inside.

 

I haven't had the hot plate beef, but I hear the meat is quite tender, and then there're onions and cabbage all marinated in a great-tasting sauce. 

 

What I love most here are the vegetables that come with every dish ordered. They're really generous with the portions here, whether they be stewed together with the sauce in the beef hot plate dish, boiled in the soup that comes with the ramyun, or mushy and soft in the soup that comes in the little bowl when you order dishes with rice.

 

I just have to try their potato pancakes, and other shared dishes one day though. :)

Strolling Sights: Alexandra Hospital

It doesn't matter whether Alexandra Hospital has moved to Jurong East and become the Ng Teng Fong Hospital, or how long it has been since they moved there.

Whenever there's a mention of Alexandra Hospital, there's no other site but this one at Alexandra Road bordering Queensway, IKEA and Bukit Merah that I immediately think of.

This is not a property familiar to me.

All I know of it is that it used to be a military hospital- the only hospital that had a helicopter landing- and that there were rumors of tunnels running beneath the hospital grounds all the way towards Labrador and across the sea to Sentosa.

Which is why when I finally found myself in the area with time to spare, I took me and my feet around the grounds of the old Alexandra Hospital- to see it now, and to see how it used to be. 

 

 

There was no specific route; I just followed the long winding road from the gates into the main grounds, crossed the huge car park, then took a further left I thought would lead me to the back of the hospital.

Midway however, I decided to descend a flight of stairs and found myself walking along an elevated walkway that had natural foilage (birds' nest ferns!) on one side and air con compressors on the other. That walkway led me to a much older walkway- the kind that builders used to construct as a link between two separate blocks. Following it, the route led me to climb up another flight of stairs on the other side.

From there I wandered back to my starting point- taking a picture of a narrow drain along the way- and continued  on towards the back. Along the way there were singular two-storeyed buildings- each with their own little steps, big tree, little garden, and patio. They looked empty.  

But I didn't venture in- I didn't want to be asked questions.

I continued on the road. This was a long one, and it led me past a modern 70s type of building that I think housed research facilities on the second floor, and then suddenly I found myself at the rear of the hospital grounds.

When I say the rear part of the hospital grounds, I really mean the rear. Here there was the fences bordering a large field, plenty of trees, and the mortuary.

Also here was the sunset, the magical, magical sunset which I totally hadn't anticipated, and which I wouldn't even have seen, had it not been for an abrupt, spur-of-the-moment decision to stop, and turn around.  

It was beautiful, so beautiful, and I suppose I must have lingered at this spot longer than expected, because it was dusk when I finally circled my way back to the main building.

The hospital today is quiet; way quieter than the hullabaloo of other fully functioning hospitals, but the old AH isn't completely deserted There are still medical staff going around, there is a Day Surgery (I think) and there are rooms currently occupied by Day Clinics in the main building itself. 

I didn't hang around long in the interiors, but because I still had some time and I didn't want to leave the property just as yet, I wandered around the gardens a bit, taking a casual peek at the pond with its classical-looking fountain, the birds of paradise flowers beautifully landscaped along a path, and admiring the natural greenery within a space that seemed locked away in her own perspective of time, far, far away from the bustling traffic outside and the Queensway Shopping Center next door.

 

trees near Hill Street

There's always a sense of nostalgia whenever I stroll past here.

 

Not least because a long time ago there used to be a famous hawker center here, and which is now no more. Maybe I've written of it before. Maybe I've spoken of it before.

 

But memories don't change.

 

And each retelling brings new perspectives.

 

Mine memories of the Hill Street Hawker Center are of the night.

 

Of the time when I was a young child and The Parent brought me here after a session at the nearby library, and where I had soft, crumbly, perfectly steamed peanut filled tu-tu kueh for the first time.

 

And of the time when a friend and I walked all the way for two hours from Killiney Road to Mohamed Sultan Road and then the Liang Court area before ending up here where we had plates of the famous Hill Street char kuay teow downed with mugs of refreshing sugarcane, before heading back home for the night.  

 

When it was that the hawker center was torn down, and why it even had to be torn down, I no longer remember- too many pursuits in the intervening years there have been- but walking past here right now makes me think of tu-tu kueh, of char kuay teow, of my childhood and my youth, of the years past, and yes, it still brings me a quiet, pensive smile.

forested Views

How ironic it should be, honestly, that despite living in a Garden City, few and far between are the times when I feel like I'm completely immersed amongst the coolness and freshness of trees.

 

It isn't that my eyes don't land on a wash of green- it is that many of such trees have become so regular a part of living here that their presence tends to fall to the wayside.

 

You don't actually notice what tree it is whose crown you're walking under until one day that tree is gone and the emptiness sets in. Neither do you realize how valuable those pockets of green grass and little fields are until bulldozers roll in and ground digging starts.

 

Still, I try to capture as many green moments as I can... sometimes not without some effort, and if I don't feel the mist of the trees swirl about me, at least I can still imagine...