华乐酒家

点心，是粤菜的精髓之一；更可算是中国给予全世界的饮食贡献。由于早期南下的华人通常来自中国东南部沿海地区，而后期移民于欧美国家的华人又多半来自香港，这使到粤菜在国际舞台上成为了中国菜的代名词，也巩固了点心的国际知名度。海外的唐人街多半是香港人的聚集地，也是酒家、茶馆的所在地。

新加坡虽然也有自己的唐人街（别名牛车水），但因为华族是现代新加坡的大多数族群，所以牛车水有别与世界上其他的唐人街；身为大多数族群，新加坡的华人已不须保持属于自己的一片小天空，这渐渐使到新加坡的牛车水失去了它原有的气息；加上旅游促进局的干涉，当今的牛车水已成为了新加坡的另一“旅游景点”。与其说牛车水是华人的天空，不如说它是旅客的天下。

因此，新加坡的牛车水内也就找不到真正能媲美外国唐人街内的酒家和茶馆。反之，新加坡的名中餐馆多半开设在购物商场和酒店内。卡尔登酒店内的华乐酒家就是一个例子。趁暑假之季，我和之前又称为 j 的他，g 和 r 约好了一起到 d 所推荐的华乐酒家饮茶。



当天因为是国庆庆典的彩排日，政府广场附近的车道大改道，使到 g 和 r 耽误了时间。我和之前又称为 j 的他于是先点了两三道开胃菜。首先上桌的是虾角，以及滷鸭舌及猪大肠拼盘。虾角的虾肉鲜甜爽口，皮薄而不烂，简直是人间的一大享受。如有挑剔之处，就是它稍微小了点；当然，它的小，也说的上是一种形体美，让食客更能体会到点心的精致。滷鸭舌及猪大肠拼盘也十分的美味：鸭舌胶中带脆，大肠油而不腻，是一流的开胃菜。

接着上桌的是叉烧波萝包。虽然我本身喜爱叉烧，但我总觉得多数点心内的叉烧馅过甜，加上一般叉烧为馅的点心（例如叉烧波萝包，叉烧酥等）的外皮通常都以松酥为特点（叉烧包为例外)，当人咀嚼时，叉烧的蜜汁和粉粉的酥皮便粘成糊状，少了普通叉烧包的叉烧及包皮的层次感。这里的叉烧波萝包也不例外；虽然叉烧和波萝包口味都不错，但吃起来却过于粘口，有一种腻腻的感觉。

当 g 和 r 抵达之后，我们也多加了几道菜，分别有 xo 酱炒萝菠糕，虾仁肠粉，叉烧酥，蛋挞，烧卖和明虾角；当中为烧卖最为美味，猪、虾肉和冬菇的比例恰到好处，而且没有猪腥味，加上薄薄的外皮碱水味不过重，吃起来劲味十足。而明虾角却大跌水准，厚厚的一层碱味过重的炸皮盖过了虾肉的味道。其他的东西虽属中规，但都能算是有达到一定的水准。

话说回来，提到一流的点心，绕了个大圈后，还是得回到原点。新加坡的点心，终究胜不过香港的精。去年在中环名都酒楼的点心午餐，想必是我毕生中享用过最棒的点心。一笼笼的点心，皮薄馅满，肉质新鲜过人，吃后有一种在新所感觉不到的满足感；这或许是香港的海产比较新鲜、便宜，又或许就是香港厨师对于食物各方面的执拙吧。

wild hibiscus

a new gourmet ice cream bar has popped up in town; named wild hibiscus, it is actually an outfit of polar puffs and cakes. i first came across it while wandering around the underground shopping street of raffles city mrt station a while ago (idiotically named raffles xchange - can someone please pay $400,000 to hire a hitman to off the marketing team responsible for that awful-awful name?). however, it was sevenish then, and the shop had closed. i recalled thinking that some of the flavours seemed interesting, though i don't think i remembered any of them then.

it was only during the last days of july when i formally acquainted myself with wild hibiscus. seeking ice cream after our meal at kaisan and seah street deli, and not in the mood for dulce de leche, the-one-formerly-known-as-j (until further notice) suggested trying out the ice cream at polar cafe at the end of citylink mall, claiming a divine chocolate and lemongrass concoction.



besides the staple vanilla, cookies-and-cream and fruit sorbets, and "usual unusual" flavours (think kurogoma), the two unique flavours that caught my eye were chocolate and lemongrass, and lavender and orange. worried that the lavender ice-cream might taste like soap, i cautiously requested for a tasting spoon. my fear was unfounded, though, for the addition of the subtle orange taste brilliantly complemented the lavender. the texture was also wonderful: creamy instead of icy, and not melting too fast. little bits of lavender and orange zest were also blended into the ice-cream, which i thought added to the character, though the-one-formerly-known-as-j thought that the lavender bits were too bitter and did not quite complement the ice cream. the chocolate and lemongrass ice cream, which the-one-formerly-known-as-j and hk had, also tasted wonderful, the lemongrass smell a welcome counterpoint to the chocolate taste (though i must say i still prefer the texture of the chocolate gelato at gelare when it comes to chocolate ice-creams).

i'm glad that another quality ice cream place has opened up, particularly since i'm not too enamored with bravissimo, which frankly i feel people lap up due to its style rather than substance (a conclusion reached based on a taste of their vanilla gelato, which is truly a pathetic excuse for the real deal, what with the taste of milk powder rather than vanilla bean, and a much too icy texture even for gelato; and another of their watermelon gelato, which was again too milky-in-a-milk-powder-way, jarring with the watermelon flavour). venezia is better; though sometimes one just can't satisfy one's craving for creamy ice cream with grainy gelato, no matter how low in fat content the latter is. and with wild hibiscus's price being almost half that of häagen-dazs's, it really boils down to a good promotional effort and scouting for choice locations for the former to gain a foothold in the market.

kaisan

it is difficult for someone living in tropical singapore to understand the concept, and by extension, the consequences of the seasons: a small island surrounded by the sea, and close to the equator, the weather in singapore ranges from warm and humid, to hot and humid. nor can one note the passing of seasons via life itself: winter clothes are confined to mannequins in shopping centres; the durian, once a seasonal fruit, is now sold throughout the year.

unlike the japanese, who pride themselves (or at least are portrayed in the media as such) as the arbiters of all things seasonal, the average singaporean, dare i say, is hopelessly out of touch when it comes to matching produce to the corresponding seasons.

j and i had a first hand experience of this phenomenon of foods affected by the seasons during our recent dinner at kaisan. our prior experience there last february was an extremely satisfying one; the food, while simple, was bursting with intense flavour: the ankimo was firm and creamy, the unspoilt rawness of the sea literally melting in our mouths; the sashimi sweet and redolent, as though the fish were only killed mere moments ago; and the saba-shioyaki was simply the best i've ever had, all oily and firm, yet yielding easily at the slightest pressure, and the texture of the meat, coupled with the slightly charred skin with a hint of hei, simply divine.

however, it is now july, and a posting by umami warned that "june is not the best time of the year for fish from japan". nevertheless, i simply could not bear leaving singapore without a taste of that intense, concentrated flavour that i'd enjoyed so much, and thus, with a nagging thought of the possibility of a disappointing dinner, made a reservation at kaisan last saturday.



we decided on an order of the shima-aji and tako sashimi, saba-shioyaki, gindara-ni, and an additional uni-temaki for myself.

the amuse-bouche consisted of two parts: a serving of julienned vegetables with a miso paste, and a small salad with thousand-island topped with tobiko. the cold julienned vegetables were highly refreshing, providing relief to the terrible humidity outside. the salad was good, if a tad plebian, though the tobiko did add a nice crunch to the mix.

the sashimi was next. both the cuts were fresh, evidenced by the excellent texture, all firm and with bite. the temperature at which the sashimi was served was perfect too. but alas, the taste was somewhat lacking, the most likely explaination being my earlier rant about seasonality, seeing that the freshness of the fish was not compromised. in particular, the sweetness of the shima-aji was overpowered by a strong grassy, muddy freshwater fish taste (though there's a silver lining here: i've finally recognised the particular taste of shima-aji, having experienced this specific incident that juxtaposed the sweet taste with the jarring bitterness - after all, definitions, including matters of taste (in both senses), are relative). also, i thought the tako could do with a more sweetish and slightly thicker sauce, rather than the table shoyu.

the saba-shioyaki was also not as inspiring as the previous version; it was wetter this time, less oily (in a bad way), and lacked a proper yaki touch (or what the cantonese would term wok-hei) which monumentally defined the one we had then. the rice that was served was a tad too gummy, and i found myself sprinkling furikake onto it; something i hardly do when eating rice at proper japanese restaurants.

the gindara-ni was slightly better in the sense that it could be fixed by ourselves at the table: a touch of shoyu transformed the "tasteless" cod, to quote j. i've realised, though, that i don't quite care for simmered seabass; give me steamed or pan-seared ones (ember's version comes to mind) any day.

the sparkle of the day was the uni-temaki: something i merely liked the first time, i found myself appreciating the taste much more this time round. the combination of the sweet, slimy uni with rice is something i believe i will enjoy the more i have it; i'd definitely have to test this theory the next time i go to japan =)

hk joined us at the end of the meal, at which point we proceeded to seah street deli for what was supposed to be dessert (for j and i), but turned out to be a large serving of fries.

would i still go back to kaisan? definitely, but i'd wait for the "winter months", when the seafood from japan is considered at its peak (not that i'd be able to go earlier, seeing that i won't be in singapore); i still havn't tried the ikura that umami waxed lyrical about; and that, in particular, is probably something worth waiting for.

tok panjang at the soul kitchen

sometimes, a cliché, clichéd it may be (heh heh), best captures the spirit of things. as the old adage goes, "the more you know, the more you realise how much you don't know." i'm constantly finding myself agreeing with this statement; it amazes me sometimes how insulated i am from things not within my comfort zone.

food is one major case-in-point. living in (granted, pseudo-)cosmopolitan singapore, reputed to be a melting pot of different cultures, i'm nevertheless stumped when it comes to knowledge of non-singaporean-chinese diets. gross generalisations aside (north indian spicy-creamy versus south indian *chot-watery, or malay food equals fried, spicy, and fried again etc.), i simply have very little knowledge of the fine details of the different cuisines available here, partly attributable to my mum's less-than-adventurous taste-buds.

my (ongoing) education in food really started in university, with a bit more moolah to burn, and where i "re-discovered" j; together, we'd gallivant the hills of restaurants, searching out good food, going to places that the old me would never have thought of entering. since then, i've discovered some really great places for food, and am able to qualify my likes for certain foods other than the prosaic "nice" and "interesting".

that said, there are some places that j simply refuses to go to; garibaldi (though j's more lenient with the sister-bistros) comes to mind, together with **the soul kitchen, with the seabass-not-cod fiasco. seeing that these places have been consistently getting good reviews, i've been waiting for a chance to try out their food.

one such opportunity came recently, with the singapore history museum organising a "peranakan tok panjang", or a long table feast, in conjunction with the singapore food festival. held at the soul kitchen, it also allowed me to finally try out a representative peranakan food repertoire, prior understanding being limited to bengawan solo kuehs and a single sample of ayam buah keluak at a friend's birthday party.

the event was held in the second storey private dining room of the soul kitchen, above the main restaurant space. d and i sat near one end on the long table, together with an adorable teochew couple and two friends who graduated from the university of canberra.



the menu for the night was, in order served:

sambal buah keluak with minced pork
babi assam (pork in tamarind sauce)
sambal belimbling with prawns
hati babi bungkus (pork liver balls)
nonya chap chye
garam assam fish fillet
curry kapitan (curry chicken penang style)
her peow soup
sambal udang (sambal prawns)
itek sioh (braised duck)
durian pengat (warm durian paste)
kueh bengkah

out of the twelve dishes, i greatly enjoyed the first four, as well as the soup, and the last dish. the rest were rather delicious too; nothing too mediocre about them.

the sambal buah keluak with minced pork (pictured) was served unusually, for buah keluak is usually served still in shell. this was one dish that went really well with rice; the latter acting as a canvas for the grainy, nutty, spicy-chot paste. furthermore, it was the kind of spicy-chot that does not singe you immediately, but builds up gradually, thus allowing the flavours to come through before the tongue goes slightly numb; somewhat akin to dried chilies.

the babi assam (fatty pork with a tamarind sauce) was another sumptious dish, the slight hint of sourness undercutting the fattiness of the 三层肉.

like the kuah beluak, the sambal belimbing with prawns was served in a small pot. belimbing is the name of a small, sourish fruit; the result was a sourish-sweet, creamy paste, studded with shrimp and (if my memory serves me correctly) thin onion strands. again, this went really well with the rice.

the hati babi bungkus, or pork liver balls, was my favourite dish that night. firm and chewy, the texture was clearly due to the presence of actual liver and pork, and not (as i feared) a pounded, or even worse, machine-mixed meat paste a-la-commercial-[insert meat name]balls. flavour too was good: nicely savoury, balanced with the side of pickled vegetables.

the her peow soup was something i did not expect to really find interesting, although i do like fish maw and cabbage soup in general. this version, though, besides the sweetness from the cabbage and the lightly-infused fish maw taste, had an undertone of pig's intestines, providing a base which somehow anchored the soup really well, and which really shone through the more one drinks the soup. the pieces of intestine in the soup were also not rubbery or hard from overcooking.

the lash dish, kueh bengkah, was simply, a revelation. after the richness of the previous dishes (taste-wise as well as visually), the familiar-looking yellow kueh looked rather sad, and kind of naked, especially when next to the other dessert dish, the durian pengat (warm durian paste with pieces of assorted fruit/vegetables - think sweet potato rather than watermelon). however, since i don't eat durian (and a taste of the pengat reinforced that), i tried a bite of the kueh bengkah. and another bite. and another piece. i probably would have finished the whole tray of the kueh bengkah if not for the fact that i just finished a ten-course meal, and am simply too stuffed to eat any more. the kueh was simply divine: the browned "skin" more crunchy than usual, serving as a counterpoint for the more sticky body of the kueh. the taste was also more sublime than the usual ones found in confectioneries, not so in-the-face, and certainly less "artificial".

the dishes i didn't quite care for were the sambal udang (sambal prawns) and the itek sioh (braised duck). perhaps i was already too full at that point, and really required a stroke of genius to raise my marginal utility (like the kueh bengkah), but i thought the prawns, swimming in a sea of red sambal, were a tad hard texture-wise. the sambal, though scary-looking, lacked a punch that was in the earlier dishes; perhaps i just don't care for sweetish sambal. the duck made no impression on me other than the fact that it tasted like duck, though the disclaimer made earlier probably contributed to my indifference.

all in all, it was a highly satisfying meal, although one full of guilt as well, what with all the fat and all. still, it was well worth the price, as well as the sacrificed dessert at pierside with j, hk, g, yq later in the evening.




* chot - a term j, d and i came up with after a meal at chat masala, meaning chili-hot, rather than temperature-hot (note: chotness does not necessarily equate to spiciness, and vice-versa).

** another one bites the dust; sigh...

what's in a name

there was an letter in the forum pages of the straits times last week where the author commented on the apparent lack of professionalism of channelnewsasia when reporting the 117th international olympic committee session. but enough of that; what caught my eye were the words "timothy goh", buried somewhere in the article.

for those not in the know, timothy go is a news presenter with channelnewsasia, who looks chinese, but is in fact philipino (edit here, and all other instances: filipino; thanks tim (omg!)) (though it is possible that he is chinese filipino - chinese makes up 1.5% of the philippines' population). either the letter-writer or the editor-in-charge of the forum pages had spelt the particular name wrongly. issues of sloppy editing by the straits times aside, my point is that i have little patience for people who misspell names, especially when the spelling of said names could easily been verified via available sources (such as the internet).

one may ask why i seem to make a mountain out of a molehill; it's just a name, for christ's sake. and part of me, the part which wants to bo-chup my life away agrees; why be such a stickler over a seemingly trival issue? but try as i might, i just can't ignore it. spelling a name wrongly ranks pretty high up on my people-who-are-going-to-hell list, and the reason i think that way is because i feel that by getting the other person's name wrong, one shows one's disregard for the other person. of course this henious crime is exacebated manifold by one's insistence in not correcting the error if one has the chance.

so, what's in a name? it is, to me, the embodiment of one's beliefs, cultures and identity. a name may have religious connotations, one example being the name given during baptism; it may shed light on one's race, such as the distinctive japanese surnames; it may be an expression of individuality, evident from the adoption of funky english names such as "fish", popular in hong kong; it may highlight tradition, as the way malay names referencing their father's name does; it may represent change, with the modern woman's hypenated surname or last name; but above all, it is a definition: of the person, of the self. and it is, in most, if not all cases, the most accessible piece of information of a person. thus, is it not a flagrant disregard for the other person when one is casual in the presentation of this piece of information to the point of getting it wrong, especially when used during official business, such as a report in the national newspapers?

the timothy go incident is a case in point: "goh" is a dialect form of the chinese word 吴, which is also one of the major chinese surnames. the spelling "goh" reflects the dialect group of the person; all this is common knowledge, at least to chinese singaporeans. also, it may be the case that "go" was derived from 吴 as well, if timothy is indeed chinese. at first glance, there seems to be no problem; all is well.

however, this difference in spelling hints that timothy is not singaporean - different countries may have romanized the chinese word 吴 differently (and did: the taiwanese "tsing" versus the chinese "qing" for the character 清). with one extra alphabet, timothy's initial projected identity as a filipino (or at the very least, a non-singaporean) has been erased, replaced by a singaporean one. and this is assuming that "go" is derived from 吴; it could very well be from another root, perhaps not even chinese. misspelling timothy's surname as "goh" falsely creates a chinese veneer for him.

what image comes to your mind when you see the name "timothy goh"? do you see a chinese singaporean? or a filipino? what about "timothy go" then? will you think that he is singaporean? or will you question that assumption due to the unusual spelling of the surname?

l'angelus

i've never had a classic (admittedly, for lack of a better word here) french meal, or even eaten any classic french dishes before, even though there are no lack of french restaurants in singapore. the jaan meals are the closest to what i suppose could be termed "french", though by a stretch, since the restaurant itself bills the food as "modern french". dining at les amis remains quite out of my reach at the moment; anyway, i'm not sure if what they serve can be termed "classic french".

no luck in paris either; attempts to have french food there six years ago were pre-empted by the arranged meals in dubious chinese restaurants, which included oddities such as boiled cucumber with sprinkled sugar, and the obligatory servings of egg-drop soup, and orange for dessert. the bse-scare then did not help matters much, either.

friday's meal at l'angelus is, thus, what i termed as my first foray into french food. not the bite-sized morsels you find at modern french restaurants; this, i suppose, is the real hearty deal. of course, i may be mistaken (it's my first french meal after all!), but i cannot imagine any dish to be more representative than confit de canard.

l'angelus is situated in one of the shophouses along club street, and it's one of the few restaurants that doesn't sport a modern, faux-zen look. my dining companions (j, d, g, yq, ws) have been there a few years ago, so i suppose it's been around for a while, which says something considering the short lifespan of singapore restaurants. most of the tables comprised westerners, possibly french: one more good sign. another thing i liked is the generous spacing between tables, which allows for decent conversation to take place; something which is strikingly lacking in two of my favourite restautants: ember and oso.

the menu is made up of the usual suspects of french food: duck confit, terrined livers with bread, escargots, and so on. being a novice to french food i ordered the safe choices: warm salad with duck liver, chicken liver and bacon for my starter, and the duck confit with garlic sauted potatoes for my entree.

the starter was a obscenely huge plate of salad greens, with chicken liver and bacon pieces generously scattered over it, and a slice of terrined duck liver, slightly larger than a credit-card, sitting on one side. the serving was so large, i was contemplating cancelling my main course, for fear of not being able to finish it after the salad. but i must have been more ravenous than i'd felt, for i almost finished the whole thing, save for the last bits of salad greens. it was delicious too; the freshness of the greens combined with the slight hint of gaminess of the chicken liver, and the oiliness of the bacon. i opted to eat the duck liver slice by itself, rather than with the greens; it was sweetish, and quite delightful without any accompaniment, and i wanted the taste to remain unadulterated. perhaps that's why they served it as a slice rather than chopped up.

the duck confit was another substantial dish: a whole serving of duck leg, all oily and crispy, accompanied with the abovementioned potatoes, and a lone gratinated tomato. the potatoes were served in a wierd (i think) style; i was expecting, from the descriptions on the menu, for the potatoes that came with the duck confit to be whole, or perhaps mashed; it turned out to be a flat, slightly crispy hash-brown piece that i didn't think complement the duck in terms of texture, and by itself was rather forgettable. the duck was enjoyable enough though; the skin layer akin to fried pork lard, oil seeping out with each bite, which, coupled with the slightly dry flesh, makes for a guilty, sinful dish. i cared even less for the tomato than the potato hash, though i did dutifully eat the whole thing up.

j later described the preparation of the dish to me, for he did not expect for the duck to be as dry as it was. basically, confit is a

"... specialty of gascony, france, (and) is derived from an ancient method of preserving meat (usually goose, duck or pork) whereby it is salted and slowly cooked in its own fat. the cooked meat is then packed into a crock or pot and covered with its cooking fat, which acts as a seal and preservative..."

- definition of confit, epicurious.com

if it were any more oily than what i'd had, i probably wouldn't be able to take more than a few bites (though i may just surprise myself; my propensity for oils is astonishingly high =p )

i ended up not having dessert or tea, as i was supremely stuffed by the end of the entree; if i'm back here for another meal, i'd probably share a starter with another person, so as to make room for dessert, or just simply to prevent myself from overeating.

look ma, no handphone!

if i have to name one piece of machinery that is ubiquitous to our time, it would no doubt be the handphone. from the brick-like waterbottle-esque thing in the early 90s, the humble handphone has morphed into a one-piece-do-all über-gadget. buzz abounds that the handphone is going to, if it has not already, become the single most important object that will define who we are, via our stored contacts, photos, email and the like. evidential support may be easily gleaned from the world wide web; anyone who surfs the net will soon enough come across postings exhalting the wonders of their handphones, or how one cannot imagine how one survived without it, and in a larger sense, this sense of instant connectivity, in the past.

as a person who doesn't really care much for this particular piece of technology (let's just say that the sole impetus of purchasing a handphone then was the advantage of not having to walk down and up three flights of stairs and fight for the use of two public phones every time i want to make a call), due to the fact that i absolutely abhor having to be available 24/7 (especially when your availability makes you a natural candidate for becoming a real life target board), i've developed a somewhat alienating set of rules that will not win me any handphone-etiquette awards. all my close friends, i'm sure, have one time or another been infuriated with me for having to endure my lack of responsitivity in answering my calls. my retort would then run along the lines of "if the call is so important to you then you jolly well leave an sms and pray that i deem it important enough for me to spend an ounce of my time responding to your query".

i know; i'm not exactly a nice guy.

somehow, though, i absolutely cannot live without e-mail. currently, i have five e-mail accounts, two of which i check at least four times a day if time permits. my theory is that a phone call, which demands an instant response, denies a person a chance to think things through, unlike email (and to a lesser degree, sms). furthermore, as no one, except for the truly extreme cases, are in front of their pcs all the time, you are granted a respite of a couple of hours-days to respond. add to the fact that i'm a person who absolutely hate surprises (i read endings of books before the beginnings - there i've said it), email (on a pc! none of this blackberry crap) becomes my preferred tool of communication.

that said, can i really survive a day without my handphone? judging by the sense of helplessness i feel whenever i forget to bring my phone out (such as today, when i spent the better of a half-hour contacting three other people to get a fourth person's number), i'm guessing that at this point in time, i'd probably have to say nyet. which is a shame really; for my current life, if not for this break-neck speed at which events plays out, and which possessing a handphone contributes a large part to, is actually quite perfect.

... and then it is

i must say that i am pleasantly surprised to be typing this right now; i never thought that i would have the tenacity of actually seeing this blog into fruition, given that i'm such a lazy-ass procrastinator and a perfectionist. my projects usually start out as monumental visions, crammed with a gazillion different ideas; it's when i try to put plans into action that i inevitably find some way of sabotaging them: i don't have enough time right now to complete it in one go, or i can't present it until i get every minute detail correctly, or my star-sign doesn't line up with my zodiac sign and if i decide on something now the whole plan will unravel. i'm literally a real-life cathy andrews =p

so why this blog? perhaps it's because i'm getting old (i know, at 24 it seems like a stretch, especially when most of the time i still feel like i'm 18); i suppose i'm at a point in life where i know that i have gone through a lot (relatively), and yet have surprisingly little treasured memories. blame it on my lack of mid-term memory power, but i just can't seem to remember even things that happened 2-3 years ago; stuff like classmates' / colleagues' names, significant events that took place etc. i suppose some may argue that one only remembers the really significant things in life, but how can i even begin to decide whether something is significant or not when i don't even have a clear vision of it? surely the significance of an event cannot, and should not be determined solely at the instance of its happening.

"... writing anything is a treason of sorts. even the cold recitation of facts - which is hardly what i've been up to - is never the thing itself. and the events described are somehow diminished in the telling. a perfect bowl of bouillabaisse, that first, all-important oyster, plucked from the Bassin d'Arcachon, both are made cheaper, less distinct in my memory, once i've written about them..."

- anthony bourdain, kitchen confidential

about one year ago, i gave up trying to rely on my rusty brain, and started a food diary of sorts. it was an experiment, really, where i noted down details of each interesting meal i've had. suffice to say that i've realised that i really should have done this years ago. i'll take diminished events over no events, thanks.