Tutu Kuehs!

Took this picture a couple of weeks ago.

Actually... it has been almost a month.

A bit unbelievable, but, oy, life. 

That's how it is. 

If there be one thing that this year has taught me, it is that we sometimes don't focus on the (so-called) small little things in life but instead choose to speak only of the big ones.

Which, now that I think about it, doesn't need to be. 

Who said that life had to sound like a breaking story or a news scandal the entire time? 

Who said that life's events had to be shocking or stunning or mind boggling? 

No doubt, people are generally not so keen on day to day, ordinary content, but life's story is what you write of it, what you share of it, and it can be curated.

It's true; audiences generally prefer adventure, but we have come to a phase where anything of life can be curated and shaped without the creation of extra, dangerous or unnecessary drama.

Like two pieces of steamed flour cakes. 

At another time in my life I might not have thought of tutu kuehs as worthwhile content, but if this be my life these days, why should I not let it be?

What's more, in this day and age a tutu kueh has become more than just an object of food. 

Gone are the days when this existed as just a tutu kueh of steamed flour with filling. 

Now this tiny little steamed flat cake has become a part of us growing up.

A part of heritage history. 

The first time I had tutu kueh I was probably five. 

I remember the scene. 

Mr. Radioman had brought me to the now-demolished hawker center on Hill Street for a late evening dinner. The details of why we were there and how we got there, now I can't remember- it's been 40 years- but I can see still the slightly harsh white fluorescent light over our heads. I also remember the plate of dark Hill Street Char Kuay Teow that he had ordered for us to share. 

Near where we sat the tutu kueh stall was still open, so he asked if I wanted some. 

I don't remember what I told him. 

But I remember what he said to me. "You never eat tutu kueh before ar? Aiyaaa.."

Then off he went and got us some. 

It was that night that he taught me how to eat tutu kueh off the small little pandan leaf. 

Somehow life became that we didn't get to go back to that Hill Street hawker center again. 

But that didn't mean we missed out on this little snack.

We just had it from other places. 

Like the pasar malams at the 'hood down below our house. It wasn't very frequent- those night markets- but there have been times when after dinner we went down as a family and, amongst other snacks, bought these tutu kuehs back home to have. 

Between the three of us, I've always wished I could have more than two. 

What's funny is that, after all this while, I still seem to be having only two.

Perhaps it might be that they're still sold in a bag of five, and so when you're sharing with someone, you get two each, and the third one gets split into two, half each. 

This weekend afternoon my friend and I happened to be at the pasar malam outside Marine Parade MRT Station. 

A lively place with lively atmosphere, it seemed a bit of a waste if we walked away without buying anything, so we decided on a snack. 

There was a lot to choose from, but us being us, we didn't want anything fried, so amongst all the deep fried stuff from the different stalls, choices got narrowed down to the colorful steamed cakes, steamed buttered corn, sweet desserts, or tutu kueh.

We decided on the latter. 

It was one of the foods we missed. 

Actually, now that I think about it, buying it took a bit of a gamble- we don't know how standards are these days- but tradition marks tradition and the aunty at the stall looked like she had been making and selling tutu kuehs for a long time. 

It wasn't merely in the way she made the kueh but more in the fluid, practiced way she handled customers, customers' requests, sieved the flour, lifted the mold, put in the filling, laid the cloth on top of the mold, put the mold back onto the steamer and then placing it all into the plastic bag. 

Our three peanut and two gula melaka were in good hands. 

$4 for 5 pieces, we carried the little plastic bag by its string over to the hawker center where slowly, carefully, we brought the tutu kuehs out one by one. 

They were so good. 

It's not a bombastic, whoosh kind of taste, but there is something comforting and assuring about eating hot steamed kuehs like this. 

I don't know if it is the warm, clean taste of the soft, yet firm flour cake that breaks off easily when you take the first bite, or if it is the combination of sweet and savory when you eat the filling mushed together with the flour. 

I liked how the finely chopped peanuts (with a bit of sugar) rolled around with the flour. 

I also liked how the sweet of palm sugar gula melaka brought out the pure clean taste of the flour enveloping it. 

It's pretty fun having a small little snack like this. 

My friend likes the peanut.

I like the gula melaka. 

And then, because you can't really see what's inside, it becomes a bit of a game trying to figure out which is which, picking out the right one, and then balancing it carefully on the neat, tiny little square of pandan leaf. 

Kuay Teow Goreng @ Thomson

This place here at Upper Thomson Road is known for its prata. 

At another time I would have ordered a serving of egg prata and maybe one of their dessert pratas- they have got quite a few- but this evening I had just come from a meeting at Thomson Plaza not too far down the road, it was past 9pm, I was hungry, and I wanted something more solid in feel. 

On the other hand, I too wasn't in the mood for what would have been a very substantial meal of briyani rice, so I decided to go local and order a plate of kuay teow goreng instead.

There're two kinds of kuay teow goreng they have here at The Roti Prata House.

One is kosong, basically just the kuay teow and nothing else.

The other is kuay teow goreng with meat, either chicken or beef (which is which I now suddenly can't remember) but this evening I didn't feel like having the meat and so ordered the kosong. 

It was good. 

Better than expected. 

At first sight of the very red flat rice noodles, I had thought the kuay teow would be very spicy and very oily but to my surprise, it turned out to be neither. 

That didn't mean that the dish was free of oil. 

However it wasn't as greasy as I imagined it to be, and that, I liked. 

I guess that is what makes eating out so interesting at times. 

You never know if the chef in the kitchen that day leans towards one style, or another. You never know if the gauge of spiciness in the same dish ordered at different times is going to be the same. 

One day you might have a dish that is literally non-spicy. 

Another day you might order back the same dish only to find that the Chef for the Day holds a more adventurous version of spicy. 

Best part, you never really know what's what until you take the first bite. 

And that's it, you're stuck with whatever you've ordered all through. 

I liked this kuay teow goreng.

Chances are I will have this next time I come again. 

Perhaps one day I might make a special trip to this place- at a good supper hour- and have a combination order with kuay teow goreng, and dessert prata (they got banana) that I have had thought of trying- twice- but till now haven't had chance to try. 

Selfies @ A S**tty Time

One thing about me not known to many people is that the s**ttier life is for me, the more selfies I take.

Most people take a selfie when they feel good, when they feel confident, when life is good and well.

I am the opposite.

I take selfies when life is tired, when life is exhausting, when certain aspects of life seem to run in a loop that never seem to end. 

That don't mean I take pictures that have me look dowdy, haggard, unkempt, exhausted, or frumpy. 

It just means that I take selfies of the warpaint that I have on despite the situation I am in. 

Let's just say it is a self encouragement.

Or that it is a reminder that I still have resources and am still trying my best to not spiral, give up and go down. 

I have to admit that it can be hard. 

That life can make it hard to smile, even if it be at yourself, in your own camera, your own lens. 

I have had many, many selfies taken in the first three and a half months this year. In three months the number of selfies I took almost rival the entire collection I took for the whole of last year. 

That's how it has been.

All these pictures you see here now were taken after I'd gone to cut my hair. 

Some I don't look as good, some I look better.

In all of them I tried my best.

Work goes on, life goes on, no matter how you feel, and better that one keep things moving forward- at least there is a feeling of hope (and faith)- than to stagnate. 

Yet sometimes I have to quietly wonder. 

It is a miracle, I tell you, that I look the way I look in these pictures. 

The hair, especially. 

For the longest time I have left it alone, just wash, comb and let it air dry. But now that it has been cut this style from a random salon downstairs- in a poufff way that the lady tells me I am supposed to blow dry- I've got to use one of them Lucido hair waxes to style the tresses.

Took me a bit of a while to figure out how wax is applied but eventually I got it that I wasn't supposed to run the wax through the strands using my fingers but to pull it straight down flat, with water to assist, before, and after. 

The first picture I took when at an office tower in the CBD. We were there as sponsors for a sort of a cooking competition that would be screened online and maybe for TV as well. 

The next few pictures are of a music showcase that I attended at Scape. What's funny is that all through the bus journey there I had attempted nonstop to take a selfie- natural light and all- but failed. It was only after I got to Scape, seated on a bench waiting for the doors to open, that I managed to take these lovely pictures. 

Hair a little frizzy but I'm glad they turned out well. 

There was a picture at the MRT station of Marine Parade.

And then another whole bunch of pictures that I took at the Coffee Bean of Bugis+ whilst waiting for a prospect to come. 

I love the look of these few. 

They were unexpected. Not only had the lights around Coffee Bean cast a beautiful purplish glow over my (greasy, post-caregiving) hair, they had illuminated my (made-up) face with a lovely, smooth glow, making me look prettier and fresher than I actually felt. 

So thankful. 

I'm glad the glitter eyeshadow brightened my look way more than what I felt. 

I'm also glad the long-used concealer still served its purpose. 

Sometimes life really does turn out better when unplanned. 

People always say you should try and try and try until you get it. 

But that hasn't always been the case for me.

On the contrary it is when I give up, stop trying, and do it again at a most unexpected time that the results actually show. 

Maybe this whole selfie thing is a lesson. 

A lesson on giving up, on letting go, on not trying to persevere over and over again when nothing's happening. 

Of course, one never knows when the results will show.

Sometimes you might be in an environment with the same sort of light, but because you don't have the same makeup or the same sort of space, the desired results won't come. 

Tuk Tuk Cha had the lights.

But I was trying to avoid the background of dishes and serving paraphernalia.

So yeah, same same but different. 

The Laksa of Albert Center

You know how life be sometimes like how you chance upon the most surprising, most unexpected of foods that you happen to find, and what you thought was just another 'eat to live' dish transforms into a pleasant, gently significant memory.

We had not known what to expect here at the Albert Center Food Center. 

Especially with it being in the late evening when the food center is known to be one for the daytime. 

But there weren't any places around us that I felt like wanting to have, so to the food center it was. 

There were plenty of seats- no worrying about trying to find a table- the number of open stalls in the food center were a completely different matter altogether. 

Near where I sat there were a few still open.

There was a stall selling chicken rice both steamed and roasted. 

There was a stall selling what I think was some sort of mixed vegetable rice. 

Then there was another stall which I now don't remember what it was. 

We didn't seem to have the appetite for any of these this particular evening, so off it was my friend went hunting to the other rows behind. 

For a moment I had wondered just what it was my friend would come back with. 

It did not take long before he came back to our table holding a tray on which sat two bowls of these.

Now, the light from the food center doesn't do them justice. 

Neither does the camera- I was hungry and decided not to spend too much time posing the bowl. 

But the bowl was delicious. 

Swimming inside the laksa gravy was a serving of noodles that was neither too much nor too little. Then there were pieces of sliced fish cake bobbing all around, one big piece of fried fish that somehow balanced itself on top of everything, a couple big rectangular pieces of tau pok, and a heap of cockles hum that these days not every laksa place provides. 

I was surprised by the portion of the noodles. 

See, I tend to be the kind who likes maximum bang for her buck so the more noodles the better, but what I didn't realize is that the portion of noodles gets calculated against the portion of laksa soup so that one spoonful of well-cut noodles taken together with the gravy will let you finish the bowl just right. 

I mean, how do they do it?

How do they ensure that the soup gets finished the same time as the noodles? 

Or that in between them spoons of noodles you'll pick at the tau pok, the fish cake and take bites out of the piece of fish, working through the whole bowl in such a balanced way that you won't find yourself being overwhelmed by the portion and the taste?

Because that is exactly what happened. 

There wasn't much soup left in the bowl after I'd finished my noodles. 

Other bowls with fewer ingredients don't have me eating them the same way. 

Often it has been that I work through the slices of fish cake first, then maybe take a bite out of the hard boiled egg, and then work through the laksa noodles all the way until the whole bowl is finished. 

With those bowls I don't alternate the ingredients with the noodles the way I did with this green plastic one here. 

It's not a bad way of eating, honestly. 

I felt like it made the meal last longer. 

There are times in my life when the best way to respond to s*** is to enjoy all the (hard-earned) moments as best as I can. 

Whether it be a meal that on other days I wouldn't have known, or whether it be a bowl of noodles costing a $3.50 carefully calculated for, it is a moment, an experience, that I don't want to speed through, forget and ignore. 

What more should it be when a meal springs you surprises like this in the likes of a laksa gravy so good you did not anticipate. 

You know, I really, really appreciated the gravy.

It was so unexpectedly thick, so unexpectedly rich with the coconut cream and the coconut milk, and so full of flavor that- even though I couldn't sense the fragrance that some say laksa soups are supposed to have- it weren't enough. 

We haven't been back to Albert Center in a while, but I hope I'll get to drop in soon. There'll be other dishes from other stalls that I'm sure I'll want to try, but this one, this bright green bowl of laksa, I'll certainly keep in mind, and very likely I will go try. 

Mi BiBimBap

This place here is fast becoming one of my favorite go-to places for 2026. 

What's surprising is that I had not, never, expected it to be.

See, persons like me are generally neutral, okay okay, when it comes to Mainland Chinese food. Now, that doesn't mean that I don't like the food. It just means that I tend not to have any particular craving for it unless I have a craving for it. 

Which, to date, I gotta say, doesn't happen very often. 

Why that is, I don't especially know. 

Maybe because I haven't fully explored the presence of Mainland food yet.

And maybe I already have a couple of favorites and I kinda like going back to them again and again.

One thing about Mainland Chinese food is how large the portions are.

They really do mean it when they say that a meal is not meant to be just necessity, or sustenance, but a reward, something to anticipate, something to plan, something to look forward to. 

It is very difficult to feel shortchanged when it comes to having a meal at them Mainland Chinese places, no less too, when you eat at a place like Mi Bibimbap where the menu is Mainland Chinese, but also not quite Mainland Chinese at the same time. 

They have a lot of dishes to choose from. 

I've seen groups and diners order their favorites, whether it be the Bibimbap with the varieties of chicken, beef or pork, whether it be the stir-fried of Braised Deep Sea Cod, the Classic Sanbei Chicken, or the Braised Chicken with Potatoes. 

One thing about the menu here is that it has been planned for solo diners. 

And solo diners there are, plenty, too. 

What makes this place most charming, let me just say, is the unlimited service of rice, kimchi, and seaweed soup. 

Some people will love the unlimited servings of seaweed soup. 

Some people will love the unlimited servings of rice. 

And then some people, like me, love the unlimited kimchi. 

On some days the unlimited kimchi might not mean a lot, but more often than not, it does.

I have come to appreciate the kimchi on days when I want more bang for my buck.

I also have come to appreciate the kimchi on (caregiving) days when I need an amount of spicy kick in my meal but I don't know just how much. 

The unlimited portion thus comes in very helpful. 

One of the earliest times where I had this meal was at Bugis+. I hadn't quite come to appreciate the food there yet at that time. 

So, no pictures.

But now, whether it is at NEX or at Bugis+, yes, this place has become a pleasant choice of mine. 

One thing though, the pictures don't always look aesthetic. 

Like this first one here that looks more like a mushed up bowl of rice rather than a dish and a meal but that's because I had on that day decided not to eat my rice, kimchi and meat separately but to have them together on the spoon, so, yes, onions, angus beef slices, tang hoon, kimchi all, went into the rice bowl and I scooped them up spoon by spoon. 

Thankfully, the other two pictures look prettier, especially the pot of angus beef slices, which, by the way, has become my favorite order here at Mi Bibimbap.

The Angus Beef Bulgogi pot here is visually arresting (big), the beef slices are tender, there is smooth silky tang hoon right at the bottom, and can I say, the sauce is so fantastic that I sometimes want to just tapao it home. 

So good is t that I have not bothered at any other dish, whether it be the Mapo Tofu, the Steamed Egg or the Fish with Pickled Cabbage (which in all honesty I actually do like and want to try). 

But these be times where my money needs to stay safe, and so it is that I just go for that dish that I like. 

Maybe one day I'll go for the Fish, or the Braised Chicken with Potatoes (that sound a little like what my late grandma used to make), but as of now, when my stomach is hungry and my brain doesn't want to think, it just be the Angus Beef Bulgogi I go for. 

I'm happy that way. 

Around The Roxy

One thing I have come to understand about life is that whilst you think you might know a place, sometimes- as you dive deep- you find yourself not quite knowing as much as you thought you did, at all. 

That's how it was for me with this side of East Coast Road.

I thought I knew this place. 

East Coast Road is, after all, not new to me, having come by here many times before where I used to cycle along Ceylon Road to this stretch, or take the pedestrian pathway from Dunman Road to the back of Katong Shopping Center close to Haig Road. 

Yet, today, a slower, more scenic walk peeled back everything I thought I remembered, and I found myself seeing things in a light which I had previously not seen before. 

Could it be that I was coming from this side of the road? 

That, instead of the east-bound side where all the shop houses are, I was on the opposite side where Roxy Square is, where The Flow is, where the taller buildings stand. 

How is it that everything looks the same, yet looks so different? 

How is it that you can be standing at a spot that you used to walk past, and yet, feel something completely different from what you used to feel before? 

I thought I would feel a bit of nostalgia. 

But, I didn't. 

I didn't know what I was looking at.

I also didn't know what I was looking for. 

Yet, here I was, standing at the junction of Brooke Road and East Coast Road, looking across to the row of shop houses across the traffic barrier of green, with no plan, no idea where I wanted to go, no idea even where I was going to begin.

See, you must know that East Coast Road is a long road. 

It is also an old road, beginning from the junction where Amber Road and Haig Road meet, all the way, until you get to Siglap Road- after which it becomes Upper East Coast Road. 

How the whole road used to be- last time- I don't know- but it begins from where the landmark of Katong Shopping Center is today. 

I didn't take a picture of the shopping center this afternoon. 

What I did take, however, is of the building right beside it- Odeon Katong.

To be honest I don't know if her official name is Odeon Katong. 

What I do know is that she's not the newest building on the block, and she's called such because she used to be the Odeon cinema, and the place where the theater used to be is (likely) now Cornerstone Community Church, whose sign you will see on the exterior when standing on East Coast Road. 

By the way, I wasn't standing anywhere near Odeon Katong when I took the picture.

On the contrary, I was opposite, on the other side, at the car park outside the building called Katong V, that today has a hotel on the upper floors, eateries on the second floor, and a supermarket on the first floor.

I have no idea what this Katong V building used to be. 

But like many a building on this road, pretty sure she has a heritage story of her own.

East Coast Road gets progressively more vintage as one heads eastward.

That is, to the very least, until you hit the enclave of Joo Chiat and Joo Chiat Road, which is where this row of shophouses leads straight to.

The pictures of these shop houses are not very close, nor very clear.

My focus had been on the overhead bridge. 

That doesn't mean I'm not interested in the shop houses.

It just means that one day I shall do a more intimate walk-through of this entire stretch hosting a variety of eateries that fit nearly every palate and every appetite, that it doesn't matter if you're craving for a bowl of Katong Laksa rich with coconut milk, wanting a plate of pasta, a piece of tenderloin steak, a bowl of butter chicken, a bowl of palak paneer, a good, butter-rich strawberry muffin, or a slice of banana pie.

If there's one thing I've noticed, however, it is that there're plenty of snacks to be sold from these shop houses here.

To the left of this bridge there is a bakery that offers pastries, muffins and pies, to the right of this bridge, further on, there's Kim Choo with their Nyonya kuehs, Dona Manis with their banana pies and chocolate pies, and right as you descend, an ice cream parlor so known for their buttery waffle cones that there're long queues whenever I walk past anytime. 

What makes this section a cool place is that as much as there is to see on the east-bound side, the west-bound side doesn't lose out too.

No doubt there isn't much of a shop house here- the properties have moved in, revamped once, twice even- but there is heritage in the form of the Joo Chiat Police Station where Starbucks has now conquered and taken over. 

It is a little difficult to see just how the interior of the police station once used to be- we can only use our imagination- but with the Hotel Indigo and the Holiday Inn Express located just behind, one can say, I guess, that this structure will not be going away anywhere anytime. 

Same too, I should say, for the rest of the buildings this side of the road.

It don't matter whether the building has been recently revamped aka i12 Katong, or if the building hosts a group of tuition centers and enrichment centers. 

It also don't matter if the building has been there since the 90s and serves the community clientele with their plethora of nail salons, hairdressing salons, TCM clinics, health foods, and specialized services. 

All of these ain't going anywhere. 

You know, it was no coincidence that I happened to be at the walkway bordering between Roxy Square, and the Starbucks of Old Joo Chiat Police Station. 

It was also no coincidence, I too say, that the light from the setting sun hit the staircase just at the right time, illuminating the tiles that, on close discovery, shone with holographic, iridescent colors giving off glamorous, glossy, funky unicorn vibes.