I'm very much a person who believes that everyone likes celebrations in their own ways. Some like big parties with balloons, popcorn and beer. Some like little gatherings with coffee, cake, candles and tiny bites. We Chinese, of course, have a natural inclination for all the big gatherings and the grand, grand stuff, but as times go and situations change, we adjust, and we modify.
That's how The Parent and I found ourselves at a coffee shop "downstairs our house" on this very late evening, surrounded by fellow diners down for a late dinner or supper. It had been decided beforehand that we would come here for a special meal- the stall here was highly recommended for its char kuay teow, fried Hokkien mee and oyster omelette- all of which were family favorites.
So we had the fried Hokkien mee and oyster omelette.
Both of which were really good.
The noodles were prepared dry texture style- the way I prefer them- had full of flavour and with just the right amount of lard. Yeah, I know, fried pork fat and all, but whatever. How to eat this dish without lard? Where got nice?
I don't know how many pieces each of us had, though.
We didn't count.
We didn't count how many oysters there were in the oyster omelette either. I just know that they were really big, juicy ones scattered all over the thick, well-fried egg, and that there were two bowls of really spicy chili to dip the oysters in. Truth be told, I know The Parent loves oysters more than I do, so I took two pieces and surreptitiously played around with my chopsticks and the egg until I was told to take more.
That's how we do it most of the time- we do estimates of each other's favorites- unless, of course, we decide to play quantitatively fair and start counting out portions.
It was a lovely time we had that late evening.
After the coffee shop we headed to the shops around the 'hood- those that were still open- stopped by the supermarket to compare prices and chat about new shampoos, then crossed over to the NTWU canteen at the bus interchange for a cup of very strong, very sweet, very solid kopi.
(Don't mess with the bus uncle's kopi, that's all I'm going to say)
That's how The Parent and I found ourselves at a coffee shop "downstairs our house" on this very late evening, surrounded by fellow diners down for a late dinner or supper. It had been decided beforehand that we would come here for a special meal- the stall here was highly recommended for its char kuay teow, fried Hokkien mee and oyster omelette- all of which were family favorites.
So we had the fried Hokkien mee and oyster omelette.
Both of which were really good.
The noodles were prepared dry texture style- the way I prefer them- had full of flavour and with just the right amount of lard. Yeah, I know, fried pork fat and all, but whatever. How to eat this dish without lard? Where got nice?
I don't know how many pieces each of us had, though.
We didn't count.
We didn't count how many oysters there were in the oyster omelette either. I just know that they were really big, juicy ones scattered all over the thick, well-fried egg, and that there were two bowls of really spicy chili to dip the oysters in. Truth be told, I know The Parent loves oysters more than I do, so I took two pieces and surreptitiously played around with my chopsticks and the egg until I was told to take more.
That's how we do it most of the time- we do estimates of each other's favorites- unless, of course, we decide to play quantitatively fair and start counting out portions.
It was a lovely time we had that late evening.
After the coffee shop we headed to the shops around the 'hood- those that were still open- stopped by the supermarket to compare prices and chat about new shampoos, then crossed over to the NTWU canteen at the bus interchange for a cup of very strong, very sweet, very solid kopi.
(Don't mess with the bus uncle's kopi, that's all I'm going to say)