south china sea dory vs. atlantic halibut

Both Shatec Ethan and Event Organizer KY have recommended Fisherman's Wharf at New Bridge Road, opposite Central Mall. So you, Ah Wai, and Prof went there before heading back to the latter's place for mahjong, Calpis Grape, and EPL.

It took us a while to get used to the queue-up-yourself-to-order system, and even longer to decide whether to go for their "standard" fish-and-chips, which appears to be dory fish, or for something more, uh, exotic. Then again, knowing the two guys you were with, should you have been surprised at their decisions?

In the Wai and Prof corner, we have... $6.50 South China Sea Dory! And, in the BlackRx corner, we have... $14.50 Atlantic Halibut! It was never going to be a fair fight. Wai and Prof teased you throughout the meal for spending twice their amount for a similar quantity of food. "South China Sea beats Atlantic!" they chimed.

Taste: the dory had a sweeter taste; the halibut tasted like, uh, halibut. The freshly cut fries became soft quite quickly, but that was to be expected. You went for the tartar sauce and curry mayo dips, and liked both.

Overall: you would go back again. Just that you think you will be more cost-conscious next time, and question the wisdom of ordering any cut of fish other than the dory.

bak kut teh @ Ng Ah Sio

Your previous meal at Rong Chen was a disappointment. So you told Ah Wai and Prof to meet at Ng Ah Sio (Rangoon Road) instead.

Ng Ah Sio serves a Teochew-style soup that is much more peppery than Outram Park Ya Hua and Rong Chen. Ah Wai actually felt the soup we tasted on National Day 2006 was even more peppery than today's.

More importantly, you found the taste to be way better than Rong Chen's. The latter does appear to serve better cuts of meat, though.

The ter ka (pig trotters) tasted average at best, but cost more than Rong Chen's. Ng Ah Sio appears to have raised prices across the board since your last trip -- heck, the staff are now using PDAs to take orders.

your choice.

"Everyone will endure pain in life. Misery is optional."

That means you.

Yes, you.

not the right fit, so you are now throwing a fit (well, sort of).

A colleague is getting married next June; you are helping him coordinate wedding attire. He has selected fabric for a made-to-measure suit, now it is onto choices of shirt and tie.

We met in the Buona Vista area, as he wanted to visit a tailor he came across at #03-21 of Holland Village Shopping Centre. Okay, let's do so -- you, too, were interested in seeing what shirt fabrics they stocked.

Both of you went there decked out in sports T-shirts and three-quarter length pants. You were also carrying your racket bag cos you had a coaching session earlier.

You began by telling the tailor and his wife you were there to browse shirt fabrics. He took out collections of fabrics, and asked us if we had particular designs in mind. You did not, while your colleague wanted to tailor a white shirt, if he saw a weaving pattern he liked.

You would not say that the tailor gave you a good first impression. He looked quite unenthusiastic, bored, and well, neither friendly nor welcoming.

Then three tourists -- a gentleman and two ladies -- walked in. The guy wanted to tailor a jacket. The tailor proceeded to talk, joke, and laugh with them, asking them how they heard of him, were they here upon a customer's recommendation, blah blah blah. Hmm.

You finally spotted a lilac colour fabric with a weaving pattern you liked. You asked for a price quote. "$75," he said. "Very reasonable," you thought to yourself.

But you wanted to have the shirt made in mid-Jan, so you asked the tailor if he would give you his business card, on which you will write down the fabric number.

"We would not want you to do that," he said, taking you somewhat by surprise. Okay, well, you kinda understood that he was concerned you would note down the fabric number and have the shirt made elsewhere. But hey, come on, you wanted to take down the fabric number because you did want to have the shirt made at his shop, just not so soon.

"We will write down the fabric number for you," he then said. His wife takes out a piece of scrap paper, jots down the number, but without asking for your name. Oh, and you never did receive the business card you wanted.

You started to feel quite disappointed.

At that moment, you could not help but glance at the fabric again. Fine, you were sorry you did that. Or should you not have been sorry at all?

Because, to your astonishment, the tailor mumbled something to his wife, and she quickly closed the fabric book. Wow. Top secret.

You walked out of the shop immediately. You are not going back there again for anything.

That, really, please, is not how you wanted to be treated.

Merry Christmas 2007.

Be safe. Be happy.

what you saw is not what you got

Went to Haagen Dazs at Junction 8 with Mister G, Doc Woon, and UCC Daniel.

You ordered the "Rich Hot Chocolate".


And when it was served, you thought they'd mistakenly prepared a latte.

And it tasted more of orange peel than chocolate.

bak kut teh @ Rong Chen

You cajoled Mister G into having a Xmas Eve pork rib soup brunch at Rong Chen Bak Kut Teh, Sin Ming Road.

The soup was Teochew-style, pepper- and garlic-infused. It was, out of those you have tried, closest in taste to Outram Park Ya Hua's (Keppel Road). The actual taste was quite underwhelming, though. Way less peppery than Ng Ah Sio's (Rangoon Road), and less tasteful than Seng Kee's (Ang Mo Kio Avenue 10). And the meat? Too hard.

The ter ka (pig trotters) was above average, just not at the standard of Seng Kee and Curry Wok (Coronation Arcade).

You hope your next meal at Rong Chen will turn out to be more satisfactory.

when mummy is away,

you come out to play in the kitchen.

Main dishes: galbi [wiki] and sundubu jigae [wiki] + oden fishcake combo. Sides: napa cabbage and mustard greens kimchi [wiki] (latter not in picture).

Of all your usual suspects, only Prof was available to taste your usually latent culinary skills. Sigh. Thanks, Prof.

the morning after.

You stood alone, your back facing the hostel, looking anywhere but behind you.

It was the morning after. Yesterday night you tried to get to her. Now you wanted to get away from her.

What were you thinking back then? Or did you not think at all?

You heard her call your name, and felt her approach. Cautious. Unsure. Awkward. Silence.

Then,

"I... I'm thinking of visiting the shrines today. Kyoto is well-known for its shrines. What about... you?" She asked.

"I think I will head downtown." You replied.

Then, (sheepishly), "dai jo bu?" [Japanese]

(Did you really have to ask?)

"Actually, my stomach is not feeling too good. It must have been the coffee I drank yesterday night." She offered.

You knew better. But you decide not to say anything more.

Because you should have known better.

"I am going now." You said, turning to look at her.

"Oh, me too."

"Alright then. ja ne."

You turned away to walk away. Westwards.

She walked Eastwards.

You walked until the city skyline came into view, making sure not to slow your pace, nor to turn around and look anywhere but in front of you.

The morning after, the city skyline came into view, alongside the dawn of your realization: you are such a scumbag.

Because you should have known better. The morning after.

Scumbag.

nobody said anything.

10pm. Sunday night. An hour before book-in.

You and her. In a taxi, headed towards Nee Soon Camp.

Nobody said anything.

Tough -- the cost of the long distance phone calls; the time difference; the experiences, your experiences (to you, at least); your mother's disapproval.

Nobody actually said anything.

She held your right hand in her left. But you had forgotten to squeeze her hand, like you usually did. For reassurance.

Still nobody said anything.

The taxi came to a stop along Transit Road.

The gates of duty beckoned. Once more.

Avoiding her gaze, you opened your side of the passenger door.

As you stepped out, you felt a tug on your right hand.

Finally, you turned back. And looked. Into her eyes.

She kissed you, and held her gaze.

She had begun to cry.

Still nobody said anything. You would like to think you both understood.

You closed the passenger door and walked towards the camp gate.

At that moment, you felt as if you could accomplish anything.

Even if it was just for that one more week.

look sharp! @ Oxford Tailor

Made-to-measure at Oxford Tailor (discovered via a Flyertalk Forums thread). Address: 1 Raffles Place, #04-12, OUB Centre, Singapore 048616.

Fabric design: blue and pink pinstripes; herringbone weaving pattern. Style notes: French-front (concealed buttons), no shirt pocket, French cuffs. As per your preferences.

Much thanks and compliments go to: Mr Alex Lee in particular. He was most friendly, patient, attentive to your needs, open and responsive to questions, and did not try to hardsell you anything above budget. You will definitely tailor more shirts from Alex and the folks at Oxford Tailor.

he will always have a place in your heart hotel.

Rest in peace, Dan Fogelberg.