Peking Duck Chinatown Point Style

So I have a friend who sometimes has a craving for Peking Duck.

This is a friend whom when the craving strikes, it really strikes, and it will not be assuaged until it is fulfilled. 

At the same time, this friend is kinda particular about the place- and price- where said Peking Duck is to be found, so we've not gone to many places except for maybe just two. 

We used to go to Asia Grand when they were still at Bras Basah. 

But we haven't been back since they moved to Raffles City. 

Instead we've been going to this (new) place at Chinatown Point on occasion, now and then. 

It always surprises me whenever we turn up at this place in Chinatown Point. 

Because even though we've been there a couple of times, I can never remember the name of the restaurant, nor can I remember on which floor the restaurant is. 

I always tend to go to the wrong floor. 

But mistake not, the Peking Duck here is good. 

I don't have a lot of other Peking Ducks to compare with, but this one I know is crispy, juicy and has a bit of the burnt burnt taste distinctive in every roasted meat. 

There is, of course, the bit of fat hidden underneath the crisp, crunchy skin, and it makes each bite feel so much fuller when the oil of the delicious fat bursts onto your tongue right after you've begun chewing it. 

The joy of Peking Duck lies solely in the skin, and we had all of that this particular afternoon. 

Some places roll the skin together with the vegetables into the crepe for you. 

Here you do it yourself. 

Not that we minded- it makes little difference, save for the fact that we're completely unskilled in all this rolling and so more often than not, the skin tends to come loose from the crepe upon the very first bite. 

The first few pieces don't look so bad.

They look nice and neat with the crepe all carefully (and casually) rolled up around the skin.

The appearance however gets looser and looser as we gradually work through the plate.

Sometimes the crepe unrolls itself and the duck skin falls out.

Sometimes the skin drops out from the loosely-rolled crepe on its own.

By the end of it, we give up entirely and just eat all the parts separately. 

My friend likes to leave out the leeks and/or the cucumber. (They get left aside)

I don't.

Whether they be rolled into the crepe or eaten separately on their own, i them all, dipping each piece with my chopsticks into the sweet plum sauce that I too always have, and never leave out. 

Chin Chin's Sliced Fish Soup

There's one dish my dining companion always goes for whenever he comes for a meal at Chin Chin Eating House near the junction of Purvis Street and Beach Road.

You might think he'd order from the many selections of zichar dishes served up here in the eating house. 

Or the Hainanese chicken rice that Chin Chin is (also known for).

But no, it's always the Hainanese Pork Chop with the chicken-rice style of rice. 

And it's always the same. 

I don't mind. 

I get to share the potatoes that come with the pork chop, and I love dipping whatever I've ordered into the bowl of tomato sauce anyway.

My choice of meal here at Chin Chin is a little more varied. 

Sometimes I like to go for the dry beef hor fun. 

Other times I like to go for the sam lor hor fun. 

There have been times when I've ordered a plate of fried mee sua, which I fell in love with the very first time I tried. 

It's not just the zichar noodle and rice dishes that I go for.

In recent days I've found myself increasingly drawn to their soups and their soupy dishes too. 

Like this mee sua soup that I ordered not too long ago, and which, I'm glad to say, turned out to be a great choice where I got one gigantic serving of mee sua noodles swimming about in a deliciously warm, comforting broth with pieces of meat (chicken or pork) and green leafy vegetables floating happily about inside.

Same, I'm pretty sure, can be said for their other soups as well, even though I've been quite faithful to my regular favorites and have yet to try their fish maw soup, their salted vegetable soup, and their seafood soup. 

It's never an easy choice to make. 

Particularly since the fish maw soup sounds interesting, I don't mind having a prawn or two from the seafood soup, and who doesn't mind slurping up salted vegetables that are great in stimulating the palate?

It's perhaps for this reason that I've found myself gravitating to their sliced fish soup more and more in recent days.

Do I regret it?

Absolutely not. 

They've got five to six slices of thick very, very fresh fish in the bowl. 

They've got a heap of chopped lettuces and cabbages which I love to swirl around with my chopsticks.

And unexpectedly they've thrown in a a variety of prettily sliced carrots, wedges of tomatoes, and other vegetables along with thick chonks of ginger inside. 

I like to have my lettuces last. 

I like to dunk my fish into the tomato sauce. 

And I like to have my sliced fish soup with a spoonful or two of chicken-rice style chicken rice.

It's comforting, it's incredibly light on the stomach and I don't have to worry about my level of appetite, or if there be none. 

Bowls of Rice at Smith Street

My first visit to Kakurega (The Lair) at Smith Street was some time late last year.

Back then we were given a table close to the kitchen with the decor of a large Japanese paper fan on the wall next to our table.

This time we were brought upstairs where we were seated next to another smaller staircase that led to the upper floor. 

In front of our table this time were two more tables, alongside wall shelves holding huge bottles of sake, and what I think is whisky. 

Maybe I should have gone to take a closer look.

But we were busy looking at the menu, my friend and I, trying to decide what we ought to have for our dinner tonight. 

It wasn't an easy decision, all things considered, because we were on a very good deal, and my very practical friend was intending to make the most out of it.

Like ought we to have three plates of freshly shucked oysters and three plates of oysters with cheese? 

Or should we go for four plates of fresh, and two of cheese... 

There was no limit to the number of plates we could order. 

There was also no limit to the type of oysters we could order.

If we wanted we could have five plates of oysters baked with cheese.

Or, if we preferred, we could have seven plates of freshly shucked oysters.

It was entirely up to us. 

So we considered carefully, and in the end, decided on five (or was it six) plates of the fresh ones, and one of the cheese. 

I liked the cheese.

My friend preferred the raw ones better.

But I didn't feel compromised.

Because there were the rice bowls.

And boy, were they good!

There was only one caveat- you had to finish all the rice in your bowl before they let you order another. 

Wise move on the part of The Lair, I agree- nobody wants wasted food, especially good Japanese pearl rice. 

But there were a couple of bowls on the menu that I wanted to try- and if it were required for me to finish the rice, well, I wouldn't be able to try them all. 

So out came the unconventional, auntyish, and not quite encouraged method. 

What it was, I shan't blah- but let's just say that not one grain of our six rice bowls went to waste. 

We just might not have eaten all six bowls of rice there and then.

Perhaps you might think that we shouldn't have done this. 

But they had such great variety... and it was all so good. 

We took quite a variety, both of us. 

There was the Avocado and Salmon bowl.

There was the Salmon and Mentaiko bowl. 

Then there was one with Chicken Karaage. 

I wanted to have the avocado one (because avocado slices and rice sound interesting)

I also wanted the salmon one (because it had Mentaiko and I like Mentaiko)

The Chicken Karaage was optional- at first we thought we might order only one bowl- but then when the bowl came, we saw that the pieces were fried so well we decided to have another. 

All this would have been enough for a sufficient meal, but then I saw on the menu that there was fried udon with Mentaiko sauce... and I absolutely had to try that. (I love udon)

That made for almost five bowls (each) in total, which, coupled with all the oysters that we ordered and finished, was a very, very satisfying meal. 

Did I mind the rule?

No, not at all.

I appreciated all the flavors. (Mentaiko, thank you, and delicious chicken karaage)

I appreciated all the textures (Avocado and rice are indeed a smooth, creamy combination) 

And, yes, I liked the chewy, slurpy Udon best of all 

Over The Pond

 A couple of months ago I found myself having some time to kill.

Not wanting to wander about the shopping mall in a frame of mindlessness, I decided to head to the library.

Originally I was planning to be there till the time came for me to go.

But then I got hungry.

So, armed with two local fiction short story books, off I went, out of the library, and to the food court on the other side of the mall. 

But lazy and introverted me didn't feel like going around looking for a table, so I got one piece of fried yam cake and one piece of battered 3-in-1 from the stall right near the entrance of the food court, and went back out to the rooftop terrace steps overlooking the pond instead.

It's been very long since the last time I sat here. 

At that time there was no public library here in the shopping mall.

Neither was there a Universal Studios Singapore on the other side.

The landmark Merlion statue that used to be at the Imbiah side is now gone- demolished.

And now there's an additional cable car tower near the beaches on the island of Sentosa itself. 

Sitting cross-legged on the steps this evening made me think of the times when The Parents and I used to sit here. 

We used to come here on a Sunday after a full day of beach chillin' at either Palawan Beach or Tanjong Beach on Sentosa opposite. 

It's not the same as I now, however.

Because never would The Parents be okay with dim sum and fritters as dinner, and never would they encourage reading and eating at the same time. 

No, they were all about the moment.

If we were having dinner, we were having dinner.

I'm pretty sure there were times they wished they could dabao char kuay teow or char siew rice from the food court behind, but they weren't picnic friendly- at that time- so, more often than not, One Parent would go get burgers from Burger King downstairs and we'd make it a set and a meal. 

I can't remember whether we ever ordered the Whopper burger or even the chicken burgers, but there was always Mushroom Swiss, two cups of Coke, and along with that, a portion of fries (dipped with a lot of chili) and a portion of onion rings. 

You know, it's difficult for me to say whether or not I'll come here in the evening for a meal next time, but I'm glad for today, I'm glad for the smiles, and who knows, maybe one day (when the heat is gone) I might give myself some space and time to munch on a burger and maybe even have a milkshake this time. 

It won't be from Burger King though.

There's a Shake Shack downstairs. 

Springleaf Soup!

Springleaf's Murtabak, and Murtaburger, are two favorites that I often have whenever I'm at their outlets either in Sembawang, or in Jln Tua Kong somewhere along Siglap Road. 

Once in a while, however, I go for something like their soup kambing- which, if you ask me- is fairly unusual an offering for the dishes that they regularly serve. 

It isn't bad, though. 

On the contrary, it's thick, tasty, and comes with a serving of bread.

I like the fact that it isn't very spicy, nor does it seem to have any herbs which 'heat' up the body otherwise. 

Maybe it has turmeric, and cayenne, or one of those bright, red-colored  spice powders so dominant in Indian cuisine, but I don't know what they are, my tongue won't distinguish them, and all I know is that the soup makes for a very comforting meal for those days when you want some soup but don't want those clear, overly light ones.

I liked how the flavors of the soup rolled around my tongue.

I also liked that little bit of texture (meat? chickpea? vegetable?) that came along with each mouthful. 

Perhaps someone familiar with their soup kambing can tell me what that texture-bit thing is. 

It reminds me of mashed chickpeas, actually... 

Of course, it wasn't here for the soup that I came here for. 

There was the Murtaburger too.

It needs no introduction, I should think.

This offering has been around for a long time, and is probably one of their most popular dishes on their menu.

No surprise it should be too, what with it being a huge prata enveloping two mutton patties, egg, chili sauce, mayonnaise, black pepper sauce, and lots and lots of (melted) mozzarella cheese.

The chewiness of the prata catches my fancy. 

As do the warm, wholesome-tasting minced mutton, the gooey cheese, the smooth-textured mayonnaise, and the sweet chili sauce that seems to embrace everything. 

Nikon's Colors of Crowne

A couple of months ago I found myself at Crowne Plaza Changi Airport. 

And because I happened to not only have Chonkycam with me but also Nikon Pink, I thought it a good idea to grab a few shots of the place there.

I didn't have to take everything, I realized, and so snapped pictures of just the lobby, and the swimming pool. 

There was just one problem.

I didn't have much of a story, and so wasn't sure what it was I wanted to take. 

But hey, a lobby's a lobby. 

So, yeah, I got these.

They aren't very dramatic, nor very fanciful, these pictures.

But they are what they are. 

And they're just what the lobby of Crowne Plaza is like. 

Subtle, quiet, and business-like with pops of color here and there.

This is not a place of ornate, carved furniture near the check in counters, nor of gold-colored carpeting for Christian Louboutins and Jimmy Choos to step on.

It is, however, a place where cute little horseshoe-shaped seats are right in front of the counters large enough for you to put a carry on bag, and comfortable enough for you to sink in, curl up or lounge down, depending what you want. 

It's not a small sun-lit type of lobby, by the way. 

Behind the escalators are the function rooms and the ballrooms stretching all the way to the end, and on the other side, the drinks area, with both indoors and alfresco, where inside there're seats in the form of wide sofas and power sockets right next to the sofas themselves, and outside, huge high-backed cushioned chairs made out of rattan.

I didn't spend a lot of time at the lobby this time round. 

Instead I headed for the pool. 

It's an ordinary-looking pool, I would say, but a very pretty one. 

It's a place where you can sit out and look up at the sky. 

It's also a place where you can have a quiet conversation face to face, or with someone over the phone.

I should know.

Because that's what I did. 

Two nights in a row I sat on this chair looking up at the rooms with their lights on, and to the iconic Control Tower hidden all the carefully landscaped tall palm trees, speaking to someone (whom I now no longer wish to speak to) for an hour, over the phone.

Calculated AURORA

I'm the sort who doesn't like to talk about my previous jobs very much.

Maybe because I consider myself to have had a rather divergent career, and because one doesn't (commonly) have anything to do with the other, I mention them almost nearly not at all. 

But once in a while little things pop up just to remind me just how far on this career journey I have come.

You might imagine it to be a person I met, a photograph, a newspaper article, a document or even a saved file from long ago.

But it was this. 

A calculator. 

A simple AURORA calculator bought from the Popular Bookstore when it was still in Orchard Road many years ago. 

I hadn't realized it all this while, but I had actually been carrying her around throughout the course of my career since Day One when I began my first job in my first workplace earning my first pay cheque. 

A long time ago I used to be a telemarketer.

As a telemarketer I had to calculate just how many shows I had to sell, and more importantly, just how many shows I had actually sold. 

Let's just say the job involved a lot of calling from one landline to another.

And a lot of leaving of messages with the hope that the other party would call back.

The numbers punched into this calculator at that time were on the double-digit side. 

They increased significantly in the next job thereafter. 

Not that they escalated from double-digits to triple or quadruple at once, but cumulative double-digits do add up and that's what I punched in- regularly. 

It's interesting how the numbers 30 and 50 don't look like a lot when seen on their own but put them in sets of 40 or 50 each and it's not so small anymore. 

In the course of this job, there were other numbers that I had to put in, of course- quantitative data representing people or programs or percentages. 

Which I did, annually. 

I did it for about three years. 

After that I moved on, and AURORA The Calculator moved along with me. 

At this new place she was used no more for the sole purpose of reporting, but for things like costing, budgeting, numbers and the like.

Not easy, I tell you, when you're working for those who stinge  resources and costs to the max and demand costs so low that you need an extensive network, and the intervention of the Spirit to drop solutions for problems others have created. 

Still, it was fine. 

Even if for a very short time. 

That being said, no one could have foreseen just how heavily she would be used in a mere few years forward.

It was for a much more critical goal and a much more critical purpose this time. 

It's one thing to report numbers (as they are) and bear little responsibility for it. 

It's another thing, however, to report numbers (as they are) and know that the act of punching in those figures itself has a role in proving presumptions, and assumptions wrong, with consequences that have significance- in one way or another, otherwise.

We had consequences that we are thankful for. 

AURORA isn't very heavily used these days. 

But that's because she rides on a slightly different role. 

Still, she's here- alongside with me on the journey- in different aspects- and I hope she'll have as many pleasant stories to tell- for a long, long time.