The Blk 80 Coffee Shop

We started trying out the food at this place a couple of weeks ago. 

It wasn't quite on the radar all this while, but I guess it's true when they said a combination of convenience and laziness leads to new discoveries. 

There're only two coffee shops within walking distance of Marine Parade Central. 

One coffee shop is close to the newly opened T-Mall. 

The other one is here, in between a bicycle shop, the Finest NTUC and the mega Baptist church. 

We had had a couple of meals at the other coffee shop but now, this one, we wanted to try. 

So we did. 

One of the first few meals we had here were the steamed egg, and the steamed pork with salted fish. I can't say if there was anything spectacular, but they were comforting, familiar, and heartening in the homecooked style. 

It might not have meant much if you didn't grow up eating them around the family dinner table, but I did, and so at once fell for the flavor and the warmth. 

Some people might describe them as simple. 

I find them comforting. 

So much so that one dish isn't quite enough for one, and actually, two will be better. 

I don't have a picture of the steamed dishes. 

But I do have a picture of the roasted meat rice we ate a while after. 

The rice from this stall needs a bit of assistance from the soup, but the meat from this stall is quite good. 

Well, it's not exactly how some would define as really good, but it's not too bad. 

We've had those combination plates where one plate is a mix of roast duck and char siew whilst the other is a mix of roast duck and roast pork. 

My friend thought the roast pork quite good. 

I, on the other hand, felt the char siew a bit better. The meat was thick enough and then there was that distinctive layer of fat which makes char siew way more appealing than they usually are. 

The other stall which we've patronized over here is the zichar stall. 

As usual, me and my pattern, when we first came, I hadn't been sure- I mean, the quality of zichar can be such a questionable thing and no one knows whether or not a plate is good until you eat it and judge for yourself.

At that point I didn't have the capacity to play trial and error. 

It had to be good at first shot, or, minimally, safe. 

So I took the safe dishes- basically, the best money for value ones. 

After several times, I still can't be sure if this is my new favorite stall for zichar- I haven't tried as many dishes as I would like and I think there might be some better foods from this stall- but so far, price wise, value wise, I'm pretty good. 

The Fried Mee Sua Dry was nicer than I thought it would be. 

Mee Sua is one of those dishes that is either a do or die. 

What it means is that you will either like it, or not like it. There's no in between. 

On regular days I would have taken the hor fun over the mee sua- I mean, no secret that I am hor fun/kuay teow queen- but it being my first time I wasn't sure if their Fried Hor Fun Dry would be the very oily, salty type, or the good wok hei type. 

What's more, I wasn't in the mood to do trial and error, so I stayed safe and decided to go for the mee sua instead. 

It was a good choice. 

Smooth enough, with sufficient taste, and sufficient ingredients to make the dish feel happy enough for a dinner meal. For this price one cannot expect a lot, so I was more than happy with the shredded cabbage, the little prawns and the randomly sliced pieces of fish cake. 

The Hor Fun with Gravy which I tried a couple of days later wasn't any lousier either. 

I chose it because it was $4.80- a good enough price for one to try without feeling like you're throwing money away should it not be up to par. 

Portion wise I felt it enough for a single person.

The picture might show a plate swimming with gravy, but under all this sea, there was actually a fair bit of hor fun noodles on the plate. 

There were also a good number pieces of fish cake, there were enough vegetables, some bits of pork (albeit a bit dry) here and there and then, of course, the gravy, even whilst a wee bit starchy, appealed to me, and I found it good. 

This probably be the dish that I'll continue to have whenever I come for zichar here. 

Only thing was that it didn't have much wok hei feeling but I'm not complaining- not when this is a dish I used to look forward to for weekend dinners, and which, only after coming here, I remembered what I had for a long time forgotten. 

ChaletYums of Killiney's Pad Thai

So, one of my recently discovered new favorites dishes has to be this box of Pad Thai dabaoed up from Killiney. 

What's cool about this Pad Thai is that not only does it have gorgeous price, it is prepared the way I like- light, dry, easy to eat, with a taste sufficient to make it a new favorite of mine. 

The first time I had this I had not thought I would like it as much as I do now. 

But this dish grows upon you. 

At least that's what it has done for me.

Of course, it might be that I have always loved Pad Thai.

That, since a time which I don't remember now, I have always had an inkling for the dish, and- despite me having had the OG of Pad Thai in Bangkok at Thipsamai- I still love whatever varieties of it I get here in Singapore. 

One thing to note is that different places have different standards where not all be the same, and in any case I usually eat whatever is on the plate, but there come times when I discover variations that I really like- and this be one.

To be able to eat it at Chalethouse's table out from the box is something I am very thankful for. 

Not every place grants me the privilege, not every place grants me the quality, and better yet, the price where I can happily dabao, bring it upstairs, and eat. 

This place does.

What I appreciate most about this Pad Thai is just how dry the texture is, how light the taste is. 

Killiney's standard is not of the wet, sweet, dark, oily kind. 

Neither is it of a quantity so huge that it becomes difficult to eat, or jerlak when trying to finish. 

I'm always delighted when my friend comes back with the box of noodles in his hand. There is never a concern that the noodles will not be fragrant or warm. There is also never a concern that the warmth of wok hei will dissipate the moment I open the box. 

The Killiney's version comes with two medium sized prawns, semi-shredded egg omelets and a serving of lime. 

It is a simple dish, nothing too elaborate, nothing too fanciful, and it is kinda hard to explain just why my senses get so comforted just by the sight, scent, and taste of this dish. 

Maybe I just like kuay teow in any form however it's fried. 

Taste does make a fair bit of difference though. 

There's a bit of crushed peanut at the bottom of the box that I often find but don't think much of.

Sometimes I mix the peanuts into the noodles and squeeze the lime.

Sometimes I leave the lime out.

But in between the strands of noodles that I pick up with my chopsticks, I always have the prawns, and I always give my friend the egg. 

That's the kind he likes. 

Mr and Mrs Mohgan's Prata

The decision to go out for prata was really one of those impulsive ones that come upon you when it's the weekend. 

We had not planned to. 

And because it hadn't been in the plan I had (initially) said no. 

But then I thought about it again and agreed with my friend that, yes, we ought to go. 

It would be silly not to. 

I have, after all, moved meself here to the East Coast Road side of the East Coast- a mere 20 minute walk away from Tin Yeang Coffee House where the stall of Mr. and Mrs Mohgan's stands. 

Why should I not go? 

Mr. and Mrs. Mohgan's prata entered my life since the time when they were down the road at Crane Road. The coffee shop back there was brighter, hotter, more crowded. I loved the prata, I didn't quite appreciate the discomfort from the glare and the heat. I also thought the kopi a bit more diluted than I would have preferred.

Fortunately it wasn't too long- a couple of years after- that they shifted to this coffee house at the junction of Dunman Road and Joo Chiat Road, and- fans of their prata that we were- we followed them here.

But as life goes, we weren't able to come back here for three years, so, yes, I had that bit of excitement walking down Joo Chiat from the East Coast Road side this time. 

One thing I am very glad for is that the atmosphere of Tin Yeang Coffee House has not changed. 

You still need to fight for a table.

And in best of situations, you will still need to share a table. 

It is a bit of a pity that the wanton noodle stall run by two ladies has since closed. 

But Mr. and Mrs. Mohgan is still there. 

She's busy as ever, Mrs. Mohgan, but definitely no less coordinated as she was all those years before. From the table right outside her stall, she took our orders, writing them down inside the big ledger book, communicated them to the person working the grill behind her, and proceeded to call out the numbers whose orders were ready.

There were twenty people in front of us. 

But it didn't matter.

I had the phone. 

I had the videos on the phone.

There was a cup of teh o kosong in front of me. 

So we waited. 

The wait seemed shorter than expected, actually. 

I had thought we'd have to wait an hour and a half, but no, our plates arrived just under an hour, and the warm, crispy pratas there were completely worth the wait. 

Seeing this on my plate brought back a couple of memories. They are a bit vague now but it is difficult for me to forget how life was when I used to eat this week after week. 

The prata kosong tastes just as light and crispy as it has always been. There's still that hint of salty flavor (from the ghee, I presume) that comes with every bite of the crepe, and which taste only gets enhanced when you dip it in the small dish of delicious mutton curry. 

Same goes too for the egg plaster prata. 

Different people eat it differently. Some eat through the prata from one side all the way to the end, choosing to cut through the egg and eat as they go. Others, however, like me, eat all around the egg and then work on both the egg and the prata together at the same time. 

My favorite part of this egg plaster prata has to be the yolk.

I love how the yolk slides its way smoothly out onto the prata itself, so much so that the crepe alone becomes just that little bit extra without being overwhelmed with taste. It is always a joy to taste the flour of the crepe together with the distinctive taste of yolk, just as it is, actually, with the white as well.

The one thing that always stands out to me whenever I have Mr. and Mrs Mohgan's is the curry. 

People have previously told me that her curry is not to be missed. 

And it's true.

I don't know how she does it, but there is a certain thickness in the curry that makes it neither too sweet nor too salty, not even oily, and best of all, it can literally be drunk (or sipped) on its own without the need to dip the crepe in. 

I sometimes do that.

Especially when on the day I decide to ask Mrs. Mohgan for sugar and she very generously gives me a heap. 

You know, I really think I ought to be go back there again. 

After all I have been in this area for four months plus and it makes no sense that I have only gone there for the grand total of... one time. 

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. 

Jalan Batu From The Bus

A very small collection of pictures this has turned out to be. 

For what reason, I don't quite know. 

Either it were I didn't want to take pictures of the very same route that I had taken just the week before, or that Chonkycam was running out of battery and I wanted to conserve. 

Maybe it is the former. 

I had, after all, taken the very same bus (31, maybe) just the week before, taken the pictures, and thought today I might not do the same. 

But every bus ride grants me different views, and so it were that this afternoon I decided that I'd try see if I could take new, not so new, pictures of this little road. 

So, Jalan Batu is one of those housing estates that seems to be always on the fringe. It's strange, really, because even though she holds a significant location between Mountbatten Road and Old Airport Road, even though she has been there a long time with her own hawker center and day care center, she somehow holds a different influence from that of, say, Dakota housing estate, or Old Airport Road housing estate further up front. 

I don't know whether she is known to Singaporeans in general. 

I think not. 

Well, maybe that will change one day, but for today this is all we have. 

Two of the most interesting landmarks of this 'hood (as your bus passes by the main road) are the petrol stations. Often we think of petrol stations to be landmarks only on major thoroughfares, but these be here, and not just one, but two. 

Perhaps this small little road had been a major thoroughfare at one season in time.

The one thing that this road does make me wonder about is how it used to be. Was it a kampong style of place? Was it a factory style of place? Were there wooden houses or stilt houses or what was it? Was this even a residential area? 

Right now there's a hawker center but it was built around the time when the blocks started coming up.

So there're no signs of what this place was before the estate came about.

You know, chances are it might not have been a residential area. 

Especially when you consider that the present-day Goodman Arts Center (it probably used to be something) is just opposite the road- with the river running alongside it- and that the (now heritage) estate of Dakota is across the river on the other bank. 

Plus, also the fact that behind the entrance turn of this road where the road sign and community center is, there are in fact two motor workshops of not the small kind. 

I haven't looked into the stories of Jalan Batu and what this area of the water used to be. 

Maybe one day, when there's a possibility. 

But now, I guess, it is about seeing these colorful painted blocks, the overhead bridge, the two petrol stations, the shrubs and the sky. 

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.