Pet Potato: Day 100

100 days! Imagine that! Pet Potato is 100 days old today! And to commemorate this significant milestone, let me show you just how far tall he's come:

Doesn't he look grand? I gave him a little walking stick a couple of weeks back so he can have something to lean on. Also, he's just a friendly chap, and he likes the company, even though it's really just a dead branch that fell off some nearby tree, but don't tell him that. Pet Potato's got many many many many leaves now, and they're growing baby leaves of their own.

So pleased to see Pet Potato and his little troop of leaves.

That being said, it's a sad day for Olive. You know those people, the ones with green thumbs, and they can just chuck some random seeds into a pot and the next thing you know they've got some exotic beauty of a bonsai in their garden? Well, I'm not one of those people. Olive got her seeds eaten by ants, and I watched as one by one they disappeared. Here, let me show you what I mean:

Olive's gone. The ants didn't leave a single one to sprout. They left the husks though. Maybe I shouldn't have made it easier for them by cracking open the shells and exposing the sweet treasures within. But nevermind. We've got a substitute for Olive. And he's tough and scary, this next one. Let me introduce you to Rambutan.

They're the red furry fruits (the green ones are Apple's older siblings, all grown up). They're tropical fruits, very sweet, reminiscent of lychees, and no, I didn't pop them into the ground whole like that. You've got to split the skin open, eat the flesh, and then you've got the seeds, like this:

I planted them in Olive's old place, and watered them a bit. Rambutan's more hardy than Olive (at least I think he is), so I'm hoping he takes root and grows grows grows! Better still if he develops mutant arms to wreak havoc and vengeance on those ants that nibbled away at poor little Olive.

And then there's Apple. Unfortunately, only half survived decided to grow, so the other two were discarded. But Apple seems to be doing fine; thick roots that grip the earth real tight (I know, because I had to dig them up to reposition them in the pot), thick stems and leaves all curled and furled.

That's it for this little update. Will be back soon with more news, if any! Cheers, people!

Deck The Halls

And we're back with another one for The Collection of Constipated, Convoluted Carols! Here's another really popular one, Deck The Halls:

Deck the halls with boughs of holly,

Fa la la la la la la la la. 

'Tis the season to be jolly,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Don we now our gay apparel,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Troll the ancient Yuletide carol,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

See the blazing Yule before us,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Strike the harp and join the chorus,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Follow me in merry measure,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

While I tell of Yuletide treasure,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Fast away the old year passes,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Hail the new, ye lads and lasses,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Sing we joyous, all together,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Heedless of the wind and weather,

Fa la la la la la la la la.

Does anyone else think the lyricist got really lazy? Every other line of this song goes "fa la la la la la la la la" which essentially means the lyricist only had to work half as hard on this. I'm not complaining though; it means people who find it difficult remembering lyrics (like me) can brag of knowing 50% of the words to this carol. 54.17%, if you count "deck the halls with boughs of holly".

My real birthday dinner!

My birthday was on Friday, and I celebrated by staying at home and cleaning my room and scorching my finger while cooking up curry fried rice for my dinner.

Don't feel too bad for me. The pain went away the next day, and I cook really good curry fried rice. And then yesterday evening, we went to Gourmet Sausage for my real birthday dinner.

This is the Ultimate Burger. It's a huge burger made by layering a thick beef patty, cheese, turkey ham, bacon, fried egg, onions, tomatoes, and lettuce in a sesame seed bun, and comes with a side of chips. I drowned my chips in plenty of mustard and Tabasco. This is the first I've tried the burger, as I usually end up having the other items on the menu. But this burger is good and it's messy and the sauce dribbles down your chin and you need both hands to eat it. Just the way a real burger should be.

The next time we go back, I'm planning to have the same gooey burger, but with the pork patty!

Happy rawr!!!!

White Christmas

Back in 2006, not long after I shifted from ebloggy (nobody blogs on ebloggy!) to blogspot, I started a series of carol critiques entitled The Collection of Constipated, Convoluted Carols, which was supposed to be part of a bigger series of song critiques entitled The Selection of Sick, Sarcastic Songs. I was a funny kid, back then. Basically what I'd planned was to, and I quote the 21-year old me, take "songs that are usually viewed as perfectly normal and wholesome for the family" and "analys[e] them on my blog for everyone's viewing and reading (and hopefully laughing) pleasure". Pretty self-indulgent kid, huh?

Well I've decided to bring the whole thing back. I think I hear someone screaming. And I've decided to start with that really famous Christmas carol, White Christmas. I'm sure you know that one. It goes like this:

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

Just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten

And children listen

To hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas

With every Christmas card I write

May your days be merry and bright

And may all your Christmases be white

Only two stanzas, and pretty straightforward. I have several issues with this song though. Let's get started.

1st stanza: Why are you "dreaming" of a white Christmas that you "used to know"? I think of four possibilities: first, maybe you've migrated and you're not in a wintry place anymore, like maybe you're living in some faraway place where you don't get snow for Christmas. Somewhere exotic and tropical perhaps, like South East Asia, where it's summer and sweaty and sticky and sunny all year round. You don't get snow in the tropics; come to think of it, if you've never been out of the tropics, you prolly don't even know what snow looks or feels like. The second thing I think of, is maybe you're stuck in prison, and are surrounded by four grey walls (and a little grilled-up window, if you're one of the better-behaved inmates), and you don't have the option of getting out and going home, and you're staring at a picture of a little cottage all lit up with Christmas lights amidst a howling blizzard. All you remember of snow is the memories you had of the time before you were incarcerated, and the odd pictures and postcards your family/friends send to you (please reference picture above). Thirdly, I think of someone who's got a sleep disorder like narcolepsy, and you can't help it but you're just super exhausted all the time and you end up spending more time asleep than awake, and thus you only see snow and winter in your dreams. In fact, you see everything in your dreams, that's how much time you spend sleeping. Fourthly, maybe you're a vampire and you've gotta have the curtains drawn at all times so the sunlight doesn't penetrate your abode and you can't go out in the day to play in the snow because your skin will go all sparkly diamonds and you can't go out at night because the wolves in the nearby forest won't let you. You "used to know" a white Christmas before you migrated to the tropics, or before you got locked up, or before they stopped giving you sugar and caffeine to keep you awake, or before that weird-looking fella with the sharp teeth bit you, but not anymore. No more white Christmas for you.

And why is it a "white" Christmas, anyway? What about us in the tropics? We may not have snow, but hey, we still have Christmas, y'know. And snow isn't really white. It's more off-white, or maybe even grey or brown, especially if you trudge around with your dirty boots. And I don't think people drive around on sleighs anymore. Or if kids even listen to "sleigh bells" anymore. Plenty of blaring car horns and annoying mobile ringtones and someone-forgot-to-switch-off-the-telly background noise, but nope, no more sleigh bells. You could download an app for it if you're really into sleigh bells though.

2nd stanza: I hate to break it to you guys, but no one actually writes Christmas cards anymore. You should count yourself fortunate (and well-liked) if you receive a few sms-es, but you're gonna get most of your greetings through Facebook or Twitter or Instagram. Maybe an email or two. If you've got those kind of friends. And again, why all this emphasis on having a "white" Christmas? It's summer in Australia. How do you think the Aussies feel when they play this song on the airwaves? But if you're really dead set on having snow for Christmas, you can always get one of those snow machines. Heard they're really popular in Asian tourist-centred streets and shopping malls these days. Get a smaller one though; you don't need all that snow in the living room. And it's gonna be a huge pain, trying to get rid of all that melted snow on Boxing Day.

Have a white Christmas, everyone!

P.S. Here are the links to The Collection of Constipated, Convoluted Carols from all the way back in 2006: Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer, Santa Claus is Coming to Town. End of P.S.

Cleaning my room

Most people would see house-cleaning as a chore. Some would try to put it off as much as possible. Me? I decided to clean my room in celebration of my birthday. Strange, I know. But I was more efficient this time around; I tried not to mess the place up since the last clean-up (that took a few days!), and this time around it only took slightly more than a day (I started yesterday morning and finished this afternoon). That's improvement for you.

This time I even managed to tidy up the few areas I neglected the last time. Re-arranged books, re-packaged bags upon bags of junk, threw out unnecessary items, and wiped down surfaces. Not all though, just the most visible areas. I stumbled upon quite a few interesting (and forgotten) things, too!

Like socks.

FOUR pairs of socks, mind you. Got these in Sydney during my graduation trip.

And the batch of earrings I thought were gone. They had apparently fallen off my table and into the aforementioned bags upon bags of junk. I like these earrings not because they were expensive (they weren't), but because the cupcakes are really cute and the white roses are really pretty and girly.

Also found a book which I used when I was much younger to scribble down ideas and inspirations for stories and essays (uh-huh, I was one of those girls who thought creative writing was a hobby, not homework).

At the end of it all, I took out some of my Christmas toys and decorated little sections of the room. It's quite festive now. And Christmas is only 10 days away!

Cheers, people!

27

Happy birthday, me!

Souvenirs from Sibu

Sibu is a town in Sarawak, approximately 180 km from Kuching (Wikipedia, very useful, you should check it out sometime). I haven't visited Sibu in a very long time, but I have memories of one of the night markets. Mention Sibu, and many people think of food. I think of food too, like chee cheong fun drowning in dark oily sauce, and kompia that can last for days and weeks (not sure about the lasting weeks bit, they're usually gobbled down in mere hours). I know most people will immediately bounce off the walls and go hysterical because I didn't mention kampua mee, but looking back, I don't recall eating kampua mee when I was in Sibu. Or maybe I was just too young and my memory wasn't properly functioning back then. In recent years I've thought once twice several times about going backpacking around the country, just taking pictures and eating lotsa good food and making new memories. But it's just not convenient currently, and going all the way to Sibu just to eat kampua mee is a bit loony, even for me.

So you'll understand the happiness I felt when I had kompia, kampua mee and dabai brought to our dining table all the way from Sibu.

This is kompia.

If you've never seen kompia, you might say it looks like mini bagels. It tastes like mini bagels too. Ask the local people what it's called in English and they might tell you "Foochow burger". I guess this is a reference to the Chinese dialect who originally came up with this particular dish in Sibu (not sure about this, just thinking of a logical explanation), and you might see it sliced in half and filled with a minced meat mix, just like a 'burger'.

This is kampua mee. I don't know what kampua means, but mee means noodles. Wait. Let me go check on Wikipedia. Be right back. While I'm away, just stare at this picture:

Back. Wikipedia doesn't explain what the word kampua means, but they give a pretty good description of the dish: "noodles tossed in pork lard or vegetable oil, fried shallots, spring onions and sometimes soy sauce and/or chilli sauce". This is probably the first time I've eaten kampua mee with soy sauce, since the ones I'm familiar with come plain.

This last picture here is dabai. I've talked about dabai before, and in fact, one of my Pet Companions is a family of dabai seedlings (read about Olive here). Relatively simple food, just soak in warm water for a bit and season with soy sauce/salt/sugar.

And that's it, our souvenirs from Sibu! We finished the kompia and kampua mee within 24 hours of their arrival, and we're finishing up the remnants of the dabai. The next time any of you are planning a trip to Sibu, you know what to bring back for me! *grin*

Pet Potato: Day 86

Wow. Day 86. Have that many days passed since Pet Potato first came to be? I still remember when Pet Potato was still just a... well, potato.

I dug the Pet Companions up the other day and disappointment greeted me. Durian had split its hard exterior and was spewing the contents of its rotten innards. And no, I did not take any pictures of that because it's just plain gross. Olive, on the other hand, was so shy she refused to come out of her shell. Literally. This meant two things: one, I would have to throw Durian out (rotten!) and two, I would have to help Olive along (shy!).

Remember Pet Potato's new playmate from a few days ago? He seems to be doing well, like really really well, so he's taking over Durian's home, and I'm calling him Apple because he's a seedling from a tree in our garden that bears what looks like miniature apples or something like that. I managed to locate quite a few other similar seedlings as well, so Apple the new Pet Companion has some pet companions of his own.

Olive is still Olive, but I replaced those old seeds with fresher ones, and cracked them open with the help of a mortar and pestle. That should help with the sprouting, no?

Pet Potato's doing amazing, in case you're wondering. Taller, bigger leaves, sprouting more branches left and right, sending his roots all over the place.

Pet Potato's a friendly chap, and I'm sure he'll get along just fine with his new old friends.

Stay happy and green, Pet Potato!

Fuyu cake!

It's fruit season here, and it's a little crazy, the amount and variety of fruit we have lying about the house. I'm quite picky when it comes to certain fruits though, and I can't seem to enjoy some of them. Persimmons. I don't like persimmons. Not even as a child. I find them strange, and can't wrap my head around the texture or taste. I recoil in disgust at the sight of persimmons.

But what do you do when you have a whole lot of persimmons lying around? What do you do when they threaten to rot and fester?

You make cake!!!!

I did some research online, and concluded that the persimmons we had were fuyu persimmons and not hachiya persimmons (fuyu = short, flat bottom, hard texture, crispy; hachiya = more elongated, eaten when soft and squishy). And fuyu cake is pretty popular, or so it seems, and I thought why not, might as well give it a try. And fine, I was craving cake.

The recipe was easy, the ingredients readily available: mix together flour, fuyu (I diced them up), baking soda and/or powder, sugar, salt, butter, raisins and some spices, then bake. There are plenty of recipes for fuyu cake online, and they've all got varying measurements and ingredients (some have raisins, some don't, some have nuts, some are too simple I got scared), but I suppose it's all really a matter of personal taste. Adjust accordingly.

And here's what my beautiful fuyu cake looked like, fresh out of the steamer (I used the high-tech rice cooker thingamajig again). It was quite amazing: great texture, all soft innards and crisp crust. The spices gave it a real depth and richness, and the aroma was like something you'd get walking into a fancy restaurant.

I might just squeal in delight the next time I see persimmons in the house.

Pet Potato: Day 83

It's been nearly a week since my last Pet Potato update.

Pet Potato seems to have met a new playmate.

And look how tall he's gotten!

Pet Potato is a very happy pet potato.