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Egg Crepes

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I think that more than lunch, or dinner, or snacks and what-nots, people tend to have a more fixated idea on what a breakfast ought to be.  Even though I may have my Asian background to thank for (if I may) a broader window on other-than-American foods, I’m still sometimes a bit… pleasantly awed by what other parts of the world eat for breakfast during my travels (that’s IF I ever wake up for it… but let’s just pretend I do).

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Pretty Little Purple Shoestrings

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I’ve attempted good-old French fries at home before.  Once.

And the fact that no song was sung for it in any chapters on this blog, you should know better and NOT to ask what happened.  You see, it wasn’t that it was inedible.  No no no… who said that?!  But the shreds of sanity left in me (surprise) just couldn’t justify the entire process of one-step soaking, one-step blanching and two-steps frying which then are all painstakingly repeated in 3~4 batches.  Let alone the giant tub of grease that will never EVER be conscientiously regarded as “fresh” again, ALL for a STINGY amount of fries that (covering my ears) just isn’t all-that-better than outsourced.  OK… again you see, the grease is never hot enough.  And I could never (maybe you do…) bear to invest the obscene ratio for grease : fries like the restauratns, which is to say… 15:1!  And therefore they never come out as goldenly delicious and crispy…

All in all it brings me to say – and believe me that these words don’t come without pain but – French fries are better-off left for professional kitchens.

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“C” Is For Cold Capellini

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Despite the respectable effort of window displays everywhere and pretty little fashion magazines who would like us to believe that the next season is upon us and seduce us into stocking up on goose-down parkas or snuggy scarfs, the truth is that the chances of heatwaves is right around the corner on any given Wednesday, and will last well into October for the freakier parts of the world at least.  This is a confession coming from a dark corner inside a pre-season shopaholic who, almost every year, excitedly opens a box full of winter goodies sometime in September while sweating profusely in her tank-tops and couldn’t stop the idea of downing a bowl of something really cold… ANYTHING cold.

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Curry Laksa

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If you haven’t heard of “Nyonya”, chances are you have eaten it instead.  Yeah.  It may not have been as justly popularized as Thai or Vietnamese, but its low-key awesomeness is in every Southeast Asian restaurant.  The word itself means the union between Chinese and Malays, and the fushion cuisine thus born which is PURE MAGIC.  So then… why am I struggling to finish this post after writing then tearing (…symbolically) and rewriting again?  Because I JUST can’t escape the thought that people would come, and see, and “huh??” and just FADE OUT.  And I’m exhausting all my aren’t-really-there writing skills in an attempt to make this sound like a Rachel Ray’s which has let me to a desperate conclusion to say that… it isn’t.  Yes, it is complicated and consists of a blinding array of exotic ingredients.  And chances are if you weren’t those who have true affection for a bowl of spicy noodles, I’ve lost you somewhere along the second sentence.  BUT if you are those like me, it would be worth the while.

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Malaysia Feeding Frenzy

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I’m not gonna lie.

This ISN’T about the beaches. This ISN’T about the rain forests or the baby orangutans they wouldn’t let me hold. This ISN’T about those corn-looking twin towers either, or getting up from the bottom and looking down from the top – big whoops. Let’s also spare the traveller’s enlightenment cuz there ain’t any, and cut straight to the point. We came here to land from one plastic chair to another and feed ourselves to a mindless pulp. Don’t get me wrong, Malaysia is a beautiful place and get extra points for having great food. Although this was what we were here for mostly, we still had to do things like upgrading your insurance and get the right vaccinations for our trip. It was so worth it though, even if we didn’t spend all our time on the beach. Everyone’s happier when they eat anyway!

We came here to experience binge-fatigue and then push through it. We came here to stuff these mortal human-casings of ours to maximum capacity until we were absolutely sure that they were going to burst and THEN SOME. This is a senseless, stone-cold-killer guide to how to heartburn through KL and Penang without shame or remorse in super hawker style. Here ain’t about looking-good’n-feeling-chic. Just strap on that bottle of pepto and put on that stretchy pants. Now please follow our trail of gluttony. Let’s divide. And conquer.

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Red Velvet Ebelskivers

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(Chinese versions coming soon)

The logic goes that after a feeding-frenzy Malaysia binge-party, that my head and soul should be filled with just Malaysian recipes extravaganza.  And THAT IS CORRECT.  Believe me, it is.  But as sorting through and editing 1,018 pixtures while coordinating everything with the exact location on Google map has proven to be bit more time-consuming than I expected, I’m experiencing a little bit of bloggers-obsessive-anxiety-disorder as I realize that Bloggy has been starving without a new post for almost a week now (yes, I count).

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Gelato for Breakfast

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(Chinese versions coming soon)

If anyone holds secret addiction for trashy tabloid magazine, uheh… which of course I’m not talking about myself because I only read Time and Nat Geo, or Economist and… world-hunger-stuff like that with SUBSTANCE… obviously……. Then they’d known what a friend of a friend whose sister’s cousin had told me that apparently this guy Tom Cruise Whatever and his wife ex-wife Katie Something… got divorced with help from his ex-ex-wife Nicole blah blah. So I heard. Again NOT that I care, but apparently it was over some dispute in their insanely fashionable (polka-dots! Just a wild guess…) Suri’s upbringing that I SO do not know the details of, but one of which I vaguely remember being that… he lets her eats ice-cream for dinner?

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