Before Easter

Before Easter Sunday, it was wholesome Saturday. A run in the morning, trees gazing, reading a magazine, brunch at a bakery with Adrian, Kel & Ruth, hatching plans for a short getaway, bike shopping, enjoying 饺子 (dumplings) in the late afternoon, and watching a good foreign film at night.

Happy Easter!

handsome sleepyhead

27 days later, he's grown a little chubbier, but still a sleepyhead, albeit a handsome one :)

Hello Baby

Little E arrived in this world yesterday. Today, YL and I resumed our paparazzi roles which we proudly took upon 17 months ago when E's sister arrived. We couldn't get enough of Little E, who looks serenely snug in his bundle, so snug that he is more sleepy than he is hungry for milk.

Welcome to this world, baby.

Sake Fridae

Perhaps it's the Sake. I realised I signed the hefty bill without even verifying the items that were ordered. But it was a good meal still, even if we weren't enjoying this in Japan like how it was a year ago.

A Korean couple first sat next to us. I was eyeing their food and trying to match a fantastically yummy-looking plate of pancake to the menu but I couldn't pin down what exactly it is.

After the Korean couple left, two Japanese men took over their seats. I realised the Koreans before them proved they were unJapanese-like through their choice of food: a bowl of soupy stuff, tempura, something resembling pancake, and beer. They had only a few sticks of Yakitori - at a Yakitori specialty restaurant.

The Japanese were different. They spoke Japanese (obviously), had beer, and ordered plenty of yakitori, including those you and I might abstain from, like horse heart or liver, whatever. Our tables were barely an arm's length away from each other, so we could easily see what the other was eating. At one point, the Japanese beside me turned to us and asked what was the bowl of rather appetising-looking food on our table. 'Garlic Rice,' J responded with her most kawaii smile. Then they talked briefly about the food. As usual, I was the silent one, smiling at appropriate moments while J went on talking like a natural pro, as she always did when we happened to make small talk with the locals during our time in Japan.

A hefty meal it was, but it capped a mad week of late nights and intense concentration on excel sheets and numbers. I wasn't tipsy or anything, but I could feel the sake taking effect, even if it was mild. Till the next sake!

exclusive pleasures

It will never happen, but a comfortable schedule should be one sprinkled with regular time-out at the friendly cafe at the corner of the street or in an unpretentious restaurant that serves no-frills good food. Prices should be affordable and most importantly, the atmosphere and vibes must strike the right chord. Make it too gaudy and the place will come across as having poor taste. Sexed it up with a poor mix of music and even the best cappuccino cannot compensate for it.

The things that invariably impress me are simplicity, good service, a decent selection of cakes and bite-sized food, and good coffee (not necessarily in that order). The furnishing must be pleasing because one goes to a cafe to relax and chill. (Don't bother if you have to ask what's the connection.) And in the words of my King of Komfort friend (so labelled because he is a ruthless connoisseur of all things comfortable in life, which, I should add, does not necessarily equate with all things expensive), toilets of restaurants are most critical: they cannot be shabby-chic; they must be swanky. 

That's a swanky statement to make.

The saddest thing about tiny Singapore (which is growing tinier as its population continues to grow) is that no place can ever stay as an exclusive haven. The moment a gem even in the most secluded, god-forsaken location sprouts up, it will very shortly become a haven lost. I discovered during my recent respite that the only way to enjoy that bit of exclusivity and pleasure at such places is to visit them during weekdays. But unless you are a millionaire-turned-retiree or a care-the-world-not swaggering lad who lives by his own time, the possibility of you enjoying time-out on a weekday is probably very slim. Life's a bitch and we know it.

Sunday's almost gone, but you don't have to start mourning - 'coz tomorrow's a public holiday. As my ex-classmate's Facebook status says: 3-day weekends should be made mandatory. Now, that's another swanky statement I support.

smiles

the few things that kindle a little warmth in me these days.

diwali sky bliss

Old is Gold

Old school breakfast at an old world Kopitiam. Eggs better than yakun (you've got to break them yourselves though), and toasted bread of the kind that I like (i.e. not the hard kind from yakun).

Before Sunset

Beautiful sunlight. Splendid company. Truffle fries and sticky date pudding. Chilled drinks. A tiny baby that pouts and ekks.

That was my Sunday last week. Before sunset.