My Birthday of 2023

I should have written this at least a month or two ago.

At best, before the year ended. 

But as things go, my heart (and mind) wasn't all there, and furthermore, I didn't have much of a time time. 

To be honest, it wasn't that I didn't have time, but that I didn't have the space to think, or process, or read or write. 

I still don't have the space now.

But I hope it will get better, that what I'm facing will soon be over, and that I'll be able to focus on what's treasured and important and what I want to do, very very very soon. 

This birthday wasn't unpleasant.

It was, however, a little pensive. 

Because unlike other years when I didn't feel it this much, this year there was one thing I had only recently come to realize, and which I knew I wanted fulfilled. 

See, for a long time now I'd been so enmeshed in a dynamic that I found myself unable to describe, or decipher just what I was, just what my personality was, and what the difference was between me, and those around me. 

I didn't know what I wanted. 

And even if I were told to make a choice, more often than not, I would spend a long time ruminating over decisions trying to rationalize them out and hoping to make the best one. 

There was just no me. 

It's never a good thing when you just go along with what others want. 

You lose your presence.

You lose your identity.

You lose just what it is that makes you, you. 

I've been struggling, honestly, and worse still, I've been ashamed and embarrassed to speak out just what it is I want, just who it is I am. 

But this birthday I didn't want to completely, entirely, go along. 

I wanted to hold on to a part of me that was, well, me. 

Perhaps at another time, at another year, I shall make plans for myself. 

But this year- in 2023- I was just glad enough to be able to celebrate a birthday. 

Really. 

I didn't think I would make it this far. 

It's often my style that I just roll along with whatever's planned for my birthday, and even though I did wonder (quietly) to myself just what it was we would be doing, because lovely surprises do descend upon me, but I do love doing anything and everything just so long as I'm happy with the one whom I'm doing it with. 

So, nope, no plans for the year of 2023.

I didn't care.

Offhand first, however, there was a lot of food. 

I'm with someone who continually ensures that I have more than enough to eat, and that I am happy with whatever it is I'm eating. 

When it was, or in which running order it was that we had all this food, I don't remember- the dates all clash- but we celebrated over the course of the October month, and each occasion was delightful.

I loved the dim sum at the coffee shop in Bedok outside Sheng Siong. 

Don't underestimate its status or its brand- the stalls there have something going- including a well known fried rice stall, and this stall offering big, silky, gorgeously smooth cheong fun. 

From the same coffee shop too we had a bowl of wanton soup with huge dumplings of pork meat and amazingly silky smooth skin all bobbing about inside. 

We went for a birthday salmon sashimi at Tanuki Raw on another day, and may I say that I hope they continue to have this birthday promotion thingy, because it's totally worth the value and it's just so, so good. 

The sashimi, of course, wasn't the only Japanese food we had. 

There was sushi too. 

With fresh oysters, more salmon sashimi, scallops, chicken karaage and prawn tempura at a casual Japanese place that delivered your food to you on cute little trains. 

It's interesting how some of these places we go rather frequent, and so have gotten used to how they are, but there're also some meals that were completely new to me, and I hope to experience them at a due point next time. 

One of our favorite things to do when it comes to celebrations is to go for buffets.

But what with our method of strategic eating these days where we no longer eat as much as we used to, for my birthday in 2023, we opted for a semi-buffet, where at Hotel Jen Orchard Gateway we ordered ourselves a main each, and then, along with it, came a soup and salad buffet where, besides all the green leafy vegetables, lettuce, carrots, olives, corn and whatnot, there were also quail eggs, a rojak station, various kinds of cheese, and breads. 

I had Spaghetti with Salted Egg Sauce and Soft Shell Crab.

The Hedgehog had Sous Vide Veal Shank that came with a piece of brioche. 

We had our salads. 

What The Hedgehog chose, I can't recall, but mine had my favorite lettuce, a heap of quail eggs (because I love them), cranberries, and black olives (because again whenever there're black olives I'm never able to ignore them). 

I had a bowl of mushroom soup too. 

Then there was dessert, where for this evening, we chose Cendol ice cream with caramelized banana and strawberries, as well as a meringue, which, I'm going to say, was super unusual, and so good. 

I loved this buffet. 

And occasion, or no occasion, certainly I hope we'll get to go back soon. 

It wouldn't be much of a birthday if there were no cake, and am I thankful to say that there were two. 

For another year i might get a cheesecake or some other fruit cake, but this year there was chocolate, and whether it were the one from Paris Baguette, or the one from Henri Charpentier, both I liked- the latter had hazelnut- and I'm thankful for the one who, whilst eating the cake, listened to me and understood me. 

Turkish @ Sahara Bar & Restaurant

So it's a little funny, but what for me all being a Singaporean who knows her way around Raffles Place, Boat Quay, Shenton Way and Clarke Quay, I had no idea that right in the middle of the famous Boat Quay shophouse stretch was a restaurant serving up good Turkish food. 

That is, until this afternoon when a late lunch date brought me to Sahara Bar & Restaurant- a place that my friend told me had come recommended, and had been said to be really good.

He wasn't wrong.

The food was good.

The ambience too.

Perhaps the place might have seemed quieter than expected- I mean, by that time the lunch crowd had gone- but I actually liked it better than, say, at night, when I'm pretty sure music would be playing, and drinks flowing.

It was a good place for a conversation.

It was also a good place to have mains, and dessert.

Given that my friend had gotten recently interested in the breads which the Turkish make, we ordered a Spinach Pide. 

Then because it is difficult to come to a Turkish place and go without either meat or vegetable, we agreed on a kofte lamb kebab, with butter rice.

And finally, what with my current craze for Kunefe, we had one, complete with ice cream, for dessert.

Honestly, I wouldn't have minded if we'd had nothing else but the Kunefe and the Kunefe alone (filo pastry counts as a proper meal, doesn't it) but there's too much they have on the menu to consider nothing else.

I was rather attracted by their appetizers. 

Maybe because I do have a especial liking for Babaganoush, which roasted eggplant blended with tahini, garlic and yogurt, I've not had for a long time.

Maybe because their Halloumi Cheese and Falafel seemed to be particularly good. 

And despite it being a weekday, I wouldn't have minded an entire Mussaka casserole baked with (more) eggplant, potato, capsicum, carrot, and chicken all to myself. 

But then on the table there was this delicious-looking Spinach Pide right in front of me, and I wasn't going to give it up for anything else. 

I hope I won't come off sounding rude, but maybe I've been used to Pide looking like an open-faced sandwich, or a pizza, and so I was a little surprised when the Pide came to the table looking like a sliced-up crusty wrap stuffed with tasty vegetable and cheese. 

Whatever surprise there was disappeared the moment I took the very first bite. 

I had been afraid that the fillings would fall out, and they might have had, but then I decided to stuff the entire slice into my mouth, and all at once I felt the crisp of the hot, crusty, crunchy, slightly burnt bread crust melt with the hot mush of soft, thoroughly-baked spinach and cheese.

Like a warm embrace, it was unforgettable. 

After that, however, I decided I wanted to savor the Pide better and so peeled off the top crust and ate it first, leaving the filling to be eaten on its own. 

What I loved best about this Pide was the portioning. 

They didn't scringe. 

They also didn't scringe when it came to the Kofte Lamb.

Not in terms of size (the portion was just right), but in terms of flavor where every single piece of sausage-shaped meat on the plate was rich with the warm, rounded flavors of ground lamb marinated in a concoction of herbs and spices. 

 I loved just how soft the meat was, and how perfectly grilled all of them were. 

So occupied was I in relishing the kebab that I didn't know just how many pieces I'd eaten, and only when told that I'd taken one too many did I realize. 

I guess that's what happens when your senses get lost chomping through a meat that's not tasteless, coarse or dry.

So good was it that I didn't even need the sauce, and simply accompanied it with the cold chopped cucumber salad, and the rice thereafter. 

I can't remember whether we finished the rice.

Maybe we did, maybe we didn't.

But there was the dessert right after, and I was not going to miss out on it for the world. 

Kunefe has become my newest favorite dessert and just like the one I had at this place in Far East Plaza not long ago, here at Sahara Bar & Restaurant this one I too fell in love. 

I don't know whether it's the thin filo pastry- the way that it crumbles when you eat it- that makes this dessert so moreish.

Or that it has (familiar) dairy in the form of evaporated milk mixed together with the distinctive taste of finely chopped pistachios and walnuts to give the added crunch. 

I love the savory, milky taste of this dessert.

I love how the pastry soaks up the milk and becomes a bit of a melty mush when I place it in my mouth. 

It's one's choice whether you want to have it savory or sweet.

Some like the contrast of both together at the same time. 

Some don't. 

Me, I like both, but I decided to balance out the flavors with the ice cream that we'd also ordered this afternoon.

It might seem a little strange to others who go for either one or the other, but I decided to ratio out the dessert per spoon 70% Kunefe, 30% ice cream just so I could enjoy- at the same time- both the salty, and the sweet. 

Gu Zao Ren's Zichar Chok

Okay, so it's kind of funny, but despite having had plenty of meals around the country at different points in time, there're only two zichar places here and there that (for now) I say I will want the most. 

One place is Chin Chin Eating House near Beach Road.

The other, is here. 

Gu Zao Ren Taiwanese Porridge at Changi Road. 

But, wait, you might ask, how is Taiwanese Porridge even close to zichar? Yes, there're dishes of pork and chicken and fish and vegetables, all that sort of thing, but in no way can the smooth, silky, rice porridge with a sweet potato bobbing about inside be compared to the robust, gravy-laden, oft fried dishes of the zichar! 

You know what?

I thought the same thing too.

But a quick turn of their picture menu soon proved me wrong. 

On all fronts, Gu Zao Ren feels like, and looks like, any regular zichar place that's got a rich offering of zichar favorites.

But right at the bottom of their ordering list a surprise pops up- the option for their rice porridge- and that's what you might have if you want something more liquid, or if you don't want rice, fried rice, or any of their noodle dishes that are on the menu.

I was rather interested in their noodle dishes the first time I visited there. 

But then my companion wanted to try their mains, and since I hadn't made up my mind about noodles, rice and all, I agreed.

We spent a good amount of time mulling over the menu. 

There was so much we wanted to have.

I was keen on their omelets (don't ask me why), and I really wouldn't have minded a hotplate tofu. Then again, I probably would also have wanted to have sweet sour pork, stir fried kang kong and maybe some sort of chicken or the salad youtiao whose picture in the menu I found exceptionally appetizing. 

But there're only just the two of us, so we had to choose, and in the end, none of the above I wanted we had. 

No complaints, though.

The Hainanese pork chop and the hotplate venison were really good. 

Far from being incompatible with the warm, smooth rice porridge (as I had initially feared) the gravy of the venison went very well with the porridge, the venison slices were very tender, and even the breaded pork chop didn't get soggy and weird after I dunked it in.

So good were the flavors, and so satisfying was the portion that a week after we went back there for dinner again. 

This time I was (again) very attracted by their sam lor hor fun, their beef hor fun dry, their omelets and their fried rice, but because the rest of their dishes in the ordering list sounded just as delicious, and which I was also keen to try, we went for other dishes again.

No hotplate meats did we have this time.

No stir fried vegetables either.

Unless, of course, if you consider homemade ngoh hiang prawn rolls some sort of a vegetable (which, thinking about the ingredients, it is, isn't it).

Anyway, that's one of things we ordered, along with a plate of prawn paste chicken wings and the Hainanese pork chop (again) that, like the last time, came served with a bowl of tomato sauce, and a heap of criss cut crispy fries. 

It didn't matter to me that we didn't order what I wouldn't have minded to have.

Food is food to me, just so long as it's good, and I was very happy chomping through the super fried and super crispy prawn paste chicken, I loved dipping the ngoh hiang into the chili then into the porridge (somehow the porridge had more flavor) and then the fries were so good that, despite the fantastically huge portion of all their dishes, I munched finished them all. 

Kallang Bahru's Factories

Not too long ago Someone decided that it was high time to replace the (still under warranty) portable battery charger at the store where he'd gotten it from. 

Unfortunately- or fortunately- the store redirected him to the office of the brand to which the battery charger belonged.

And so it was on one hot afternoon that we found ourselves on a bus from Jalan Eunos trundling down towards the industrial estate of Kallang Bahru. 

I had been given the choice whether or not I wanted to go- because, well, it seemed like a very long walk from the bus stop into the estate, and it was a very hot day. 

I didn't hesitate.

Of course I wanted to go.

It's not like I'm squeamish of unloading bays, wooden pallets, forklifts or rough, dark, well-worn cement floors. 

How could I be, when the C.Co Animation Studio that I work in (still, thank God) used to be in an industrial estate o'er at the other side of the island herself?

Trust me, that place was no glass paneled entrance, ambient lighting or carpeted flooring. It was as harsh, and raw, as an industrial, clonking, clunking, steel-everywhere place was supposed to be. 

I didn't mind. 

In fact I loved it. 

With an industry like ours where the gear and lights can weigh up to 50kg or more, you don't want a place where you can't unload your props- they're not necessarily cardboard, push a fully laden industrial trolley through the doors, or load everything in the space without damaging the precious floors. 

Pre-designed aesthetics can be very tiresome sometimes.

I much prefer a space where I can design the aesthetics on my own, and it is up to us what sort of feel we want it to be, whether we want to make it glamorous, functional, or keep it simply raw. 

What's more, there's no rule that says you can't wear nice heels or a nice dress in an environment like that. It's a place where you can dress up, or down. 

One thing distinctive about industrial estates is just how practical, and organic most of their architecture seems to be. 

I mean, everything's pragmatic there. 

The place doesn't look like this because it's dusty or dirty.

It's because everything is so heavily used.

The funny thing, however, is that I kind of thought that I had seen it all. 

But no, there was way much more that I saw during this little errand than I assumed there would be. 

It didn't begin from the building where we made the replacement of the battery. 

It began from the overhead bridge spanning across the expressway from the bus stop outside the old Kallang Bahru swimming pool. 

I don't think I've ever walked across such a long overhead bridge before. 

Neither have I ever seen such an inspiring view. 

It was a bit of a hike (mind you, it was a hot day) past the buildings of Infineon and Qualcomm, but we soon found ourselves on this little lane that led us from the newer, glass-windowed buildings to the older ones with more concrete pillars, brighter paintwork and concrete surfaces that glared in the sun.

From here we walked down a road, passing by one of them JTC-like factories (I think), past the food court aka canteen, and finally to the Warehouse that we were looking for. 

It was interesting to see workers from different departments come out from the building in groups of two, three or four. 

Here were the ladies in their corporate dresses, corporate blouses, pants cut off at the ankles, skirts, or corporate tops with their umbrellas, mobile phones and wallets. 

Then there were the men, in their shirts, ties, trousers, or in their work uniform polo shirts, some baggy, some fitted. There were men in work boots. There were men in regular office shoes. 

It was a colorful scene. 

I wish I got a chance to see what was inside the food court/canteen though. 

But we had other places to go, and didn't have time. 

Thankfully I wasn't that hot nor so rushed that I didn't have time to look around me.

And I'm glad I did. 

Because rare is it that one gets to see the well worn ventilation grilles of a warehouse at its huge back door. 

Rare is it that one gets to see a row of neatly arranged desks facing the wide open doorway of the loading/unloading bay with the files and the trays, and the work chairs arranged inside. 

I don't think I'd ever seen such a neat layout of three desks placed side by side in so long a time. 

But there they were.

Unoccupied, of course- everyone was probably at lunch- but ready and available once things started moving and work began to pile in. 

It was pleasant to be able to stand in the space of the very spacious and very clean corridor, wander along the units searching for the right one, and look out over the banister to the building opposite.

There's something about this place- I think it's Ruby Warehouse II- that makes it unforgettable.

I don't know if it is the strong, sturdy-looking sloped ramp that stretched from road level to the second floor. 

I don't know if it is the 70s feel that I somehow got whilst admiring the building.

Or if it were the unique color of the building, which, unlike most factories that hover between white and grey, was a mix between curry chicken brown and mustard yellow brown.

I had forgotten just how spacious these industrial structures were. 

I had also forgotten just how humongous they were. 

And yet it wasn't even all of this, but perhaps, if I'm not wrong, the open-air staircase landings that I saw in the building opposite, and the sheltered suspended staircase that I think connected that building, and this one- the one I was now standing in- both together.

Loving Kunefe

So we don't usually have dessert when we come to this Turkish-Mediterranean place at the basement of Far East Plaza.

But today (on account of a special celebration), we did. 

I was surprised when my friend chose this over the baklava. 

I had thought baklava was the go-to favorite at any Turkish restaurant. 

But then this came.

And now, dear friends, here to my very short list be my newest favorite, all-out-will-support dessert that I won't mind having any day thereafter.

Kunefe, or Knafeh, is probably one of the more unique desserts from the Middle East region. 

I don't know which name on the menu this dessert went by. 

But I think it must have been Kunefe. 

Because that's how the Turkish call it, and we were having this at The Mediterranean Deli Turk at Far East Plaza. 

Kunefe is the name of this cheese-based dessert consisting of a disc made out of wiry shreds of pastry, served hot with the cheese in between, topped with pistachios, almonds and walnuts, and which sits solidly like an island in a thick sea of clotted cream.

I'm not sure if the sea of creamy, ivory-white that I had here that afternoon was clotted cream. 

I don't think so.

It didn't taste like it. 

What it did taste like, however, was the local coffee shop favorite of evaporated milk. 

If you thought that the difference between clotted cream and evaporated milk deviated the taste by a whole lot, nope, it didn't. 

Rather, I think the taste of evaporated milk enhanced it. 

I had no fear of overwhelming sweetness.

And neither did I have to worry that the clotted cream would make me feel too full. 

I have nothing but praise for this dessert, I tell you.

My first taste of this still-hot Kunefe gave me such a burst of sensations,  not only wrapping me entirely in the embrace of her comforting warmth, but, after that, giving me the fun of feeling the crisp, (crunchy?) wiry oodles of noodles pastry melt away so easily on my tongue.  

It took me a while before I began to feel the sweet pastry blend perfectly with the slightly (salty) taste of creamy milk. 

And after that I was completely sold. 

There is no dessert that I've had so far which includes such delicate crisp with the rich texture of gently heated evaporated milk.

There is also no dessert that I've had so far that gives you multiple sensations of crisp, creamy, sweet, salty, hot, and cold- at the same time.

For the entire time I engrossed myself in breaking off parts of the pastry with my spoon, scooping it up with the evaporated milk, and carving out little slivers from the coconut ice cream. 

I paid attention to nothing else.

It didn't matter to me that amongst the sprinkles of almond chips and pistachio bits there didn't seem to be any walnuts. 

Or that I might have missed out on the orange blossom water even though I know there was a tinge of orange.

I simply loved the whole thing. 

It's not every day that one gets a post-meal treat where the textures get woven so seamlessly together as the flavors juxtapose so effortlessly.

I'm glad to have had it. 

Because Kunefe is a unique, lovely, strong-tasting, yet gentle dessert. and just like how I fell in love with mochi waffles a couple of years ago, I've fallen in love (even more) with this culturally-rich, Middle Eastern dessert too.

A Kopi at Kimly

You know, the idea of franchising to me used to be nothing more than just a long-taught theory, a strategy, a business progression used by companies desiring to expand their presence in shores domestic and global. 

It was just something that happened in the world of business, nothing more, nothing less.

I thought little of it. 

I thought nothing of it even.

But then one late evening we got hungry and decided to walk over to the shops nearby for some supper.

And out of the two coffee shops that were still open at that rather late hour, at one of them I found myself more eager to settle down.

I don't know whether it were the presence of the dim sum stall, the glow of the light bulbs at the exterior area, the color of the tables, or the sense of familiarity that attracted me.

But something did. 

As my friend headed to the dim sum stall for an order of century egg porridge and some random fried snacks, I looked around, and almost at once, thought of another Kimly that I used to go- at another place, at another time, elsewhere.

It's been nearly a year since I last went to that coffee shop. 

The last time I went there was in December, and since then I (sadly) haven't had much of a spirit nor an energy to go there. 

Perhaps it's something I'm not ready to face.

Perhaps the memories I have had there I'm not ready to embrace.

But sitting at the cream-colored table that night in this (present) Kimly, with the one cup of kopi in front of me, plus all the dim sum, my mind flew back to all the times where Radioman and I used to hang out at the (other) Kimly at the (other) place there.

It wasn't very often that we went- most of the time we went to the NTWU canteen at the bus interchange for our kopi, but the couple of times we were here, together with the memories, yes, I remember.

February there was one time where we went for the kopi because it was Chinese New Year and we had just finished a meal of fried rice, and fish and chips from another coffee shop nearby and were wondering if we could have an extra serving of fried carrot cake from the stall that stayed open there.

Then there was once in October where we went because we were too lazy to walk to the bus interchange, and anyway the kopi here went deliciously well with the Wife Biscuits and Salted Egg Pastries from Leung Sang that I had bought to share for our birthdays.

And of course there was that time in December when Radioman discovered to his great delight that it was actually possible to retrieve certain audio tracks from certain sources via mobile applications and requested for certain tracks to be done so.

I'm pretty sure that we went there more than just these three times- it's just that these moments stick out most in my head because of the highly recommended kopi, the space, the atmosphere, the fans, and the wee hour winds. 

I'm not sure whether this (present) Kimly at Eunos has exactly the same late night atmosphere as the other one that I used to go to, but with the lights, the tables, the stalls, and the coffee shop decor, it looks like I won't be forgetting them anytime soon.

Kaarla x OUMI Brunch Buffet

So, I don't do this very often, but this place- located on the 51st floor of CapitaSpring Tower in Raffles Place- is a restaurant that I'll highly recommend. 

No doubt at first glance a price of $88+/pax might seem a tad extravagant to some, but when you consider that it's a brunch, it's a buffet (at weekend price), and that you're having dishes prepared by renowned restaurants KAARLA and OUMI whilst being seated in the 1-Arden Food Forest with such, and such a view, $120nett (thereabouts) actually doesn't seem that expensive after all.

You will enjoy the view, but don't forget to look at the rest of the restaurant, and the menu. 

One of the very first things that caught my eye was the way they'd presented the menu. 

I had thought it would be one of those huge, heavy, black-colored hard cover books that Japanese-style restaurants tend to provide, but no, it was this elegant looking, minimalist-style, ivory-white rectangular hard-card with classy, neat print and no pictures. 

Best part, they'd placed a sprig of rosemary on the table near the stand where you stuck the menu card in between ordering.

Seeing the sprig was very uplifting. 

Up till now I hadn't realized just how huge a difference this little bit of fresh nature (on a dining table) could make.

But now I know. 

Now I know just what aesthetics and subtle, subliminal differences can do to the mood. 

I also know just what quiet, subtle differences can do to a dish. 

Because this gentle subtility was everywhere, in everything that we had. 

There it was in our bowl of Creamy Pumpkin Soup, there it also was in our bowl of Fish Soup, where in the Pumpkin there was Miso Mascarpone and Pumpkin Seed, and in the Fish Soup there was Hijiki, Maitake and Spring Onion. 

So good were the soups that we fell in love with them both right off, but between us both, we thought the fish soup more interesting, what with its clear like broth of clear texture and rich (umami) flavor- a far cry from our very simplistic expectations of a few fish slices thrown into a pot to boil. 

If these were the dishes that we first fell in love with, it didn't take us long to fall in love with the Salmon Cheese Roll, Tempura Futo Roll, and the Kaarla Truffle Fries soon after. 

The Tempura Futo Roll had a combination of Tamago, Avocado, Fish Mayo and a hint of Daikon Pickle all wrapped within its wall of seaweed.

The Salmon Cheese Roll on top each piece had a slice of Salmon, a slice of Miso Cheese, and within, Salmon Skin, Cucumber and Avocado.

Then, the fries, when brought to the table, were fresh, crisp and hot, with the distinctive fragrance and flavor of truffle at every bite.

We had a great time alternating between one roll and the other (to my surprise, the flavors of salmon skin and tamago didn't clash) and it was fun trying to figure out the best way to have the Salmon Cheese Roll without the salmon sliding off or everything falling apart. 

It wasn't just our familiar favorites that we had for brunch that afternoon. 

There were some fascinating ones too. 

Like the Kajiki Tataki, the Spicy Tuna Roll, the Salmon Butter Yaki, the Teppanyaki Tofu and the Petite Beer Battered Fish and Chips that I'd made a special request for. 

Amongst all of these, the one dish that I thought really made OUMI stand out as a Japanese contemporary restaurant was the Kajiki Tataki. Consisting of Light Grilled Swordfish over a bed of Tosaka Seaweed, there was also White Onion and Roselle Leaf. 

Funny thing however is I'm not really sure whether this was it. 

It looks like it, as in, the main really does look like a fish that's been gently seared, but I can't tell if the little white cube is White Onion, I'm not sure if all the greens underneath the fish are Tosaka Seaweed and Roselle Leaf, and what's more, there's a bit of black-colored roe sitting on top which the menu doesn't mention. 

No matter, I enjoyed it anyway. 

It's hard to not enjoy the food that's being served here.

Doesn't matter what it is- it might be the Salmon Butter Yaki, or the Spicy Tuna Roll, which at first glance looks like a ordinary rice roll wrapped around a spoonful of spicy tuna, but then the tuna's real (not canned) and then there's Shiso, and then, there's Bonito Flakes scattered generously all over the sushi as well.

You know how I've said that all the dishes here speak of gentle subtility?

I'm not joking.

It's true. 

There's no dish here that doesn't look classic, simplistic, and elegant.

Like the Teppanyaki Tofu, which, had I not known that it were really a piece of Beancurd with Miso Sauce and Seaweed, I'd have thought it were a (very huge) piece of foie gras.

And it was the same for the Petite Beer Battered Fish and Chips (which is really a chonk of battered fish with a handful of potato fries), and the Bara Chirashi Bowl.

Both are common foods, I know, you can find them at cafes and restaurants everywhere, but the fried fish was meaty and tender- battered in the way I like- and the Bara Chirashi Bowl was arranged in a way that cheered me up even as I worked through the Chef's choice of raw fish and Food Forest Salad. 

We didn't have any other foods after that- our stomachs were feeling full- but there was still dessert to be had, and glad I am to say that we had the Matcha, the Yuzu, and the Mandarin Lamington (of which I don't have a picture) 

Let's just say that I was superbly impressed with the Yuzu, and although I enjoyed trying out the Lamington- I wanted to try the Mandarin jam- I think I liked the Matcha slightly more. 

Maybe because the Matcha was a soft and bouncy Panna Cotta that had a varied texture in the form of Black Sesame Brittle and Azuki Red Bean, and I liked carving it out to feel it melt in my mouth. 

But if you can't decide and there's just one dessert which you want to have, the Yuzu is good.

It's a sorbet, I think- I'm not sure- but visually, it's gorgeous- you can see the shape of a yuzu fruit- and then below there's also Wasabi-Yuzunama Chocolate (where you won't taste the wasabi) and a little cube with a flower that is the Yuzu Curd. 

Bench near the Nursing Home

There will come a time very soon- I anticipate- where I won't have such and such a view anymore. 

Does it matter to me? 

Do I feel sentimental about it? 

If I think carefully, well, the answer's yes, and no.

Yes, because whether I like it or not, there has been such a view in my life, and in any case, those times didn't feel so bad. 

Yet at the same time, there's also a No, because, well, it would have been well to not have such and such a view in the first place. 

Life is such where most of the time we can only afford to roll with whatever we have. Questions like why we're there, why we're doing what we doing, what it is we're doing, and what the purpose of it all- we want to ask, we wish to ask, but we can't- the answers after all help little to our life and don't always bring the assurance we seek anyway. 

But they have happened, they did happen, and that's all we can think when attempting to cope with regards to it. 

Perhaps one day the view of this HDB void deck near Serangoon Central won't matter so much to me anymore. 

Perhaps one day the memory of myself sitting at the bench that granted me this view will also no longer be relevant.

I'm not sure when the relevance will disappear.

It has, after all, been three years over since Covid began, and visitor restrictions set in where instead of two visitors now there could only be one. 

So I decided to sit out. 

We didn't need two people to kit up in plastic aprons and mask up clinical style. One person- the more important one whom the elderly wanted to see- was enough. The other person got relegated to look after the backpack and other stuff.

Here's the funny thing though.

When it was I actually started sitting there, I can't recall.

Perhaps it was a few months after the restrictions set in. 

Perhaps it was after a while when I realized I didn't want to sit waiting for 30 minutes on the ledge at the Home's Garden under the hot afternoon sun. 

It was more comfortable sitting here in any case.

At least there was better wind. 

Most of the time I armed myself with paper and pen writing through a page. Sometimes, though, I put my heart to Youtube videos, online manga, or conversations with people on the messaging platforms. 

Great way to pass the time. 

There'll be some memories of this place that hold unique, of course. 

Not just of myself doing what I'm doing, but others, too. 

Like that of a boy, around 8 or 9, playing with a ball all by himself in the open courtyard, kicking it, chasing it, kicking it, chasing it again.

Like that of a lady whom, having seen me there writing diligently on my page, paused to ask if I were a teacher. 

And like that of a senior citizen, with his walking cane, taking a slow stroll around the courtyard with his cute, slow-lumbering, busily sniffing dog.