Cooking up a Team

A "test" at Coriander Leaf Restaurant @ Clarke Quay,

a stone's throw away from Liang Court.

Initial jitters, horror

that the females in the team were helpless damsels in the kitchen.

The glee that team leaders were males.

(Thank goodness the Chief Chef was a lady!)

And off we went, scurrying around to get things done

- cutting the onions, shredding the cucumber,

painting the pastry sheet with butter,

delicately rolling up the crepe with tasty morsels of duck meat ...

All the time, resisting the temptation to test the food!

At last, all done - a buffet spread all by the amateur chefs!

A feat unimaginable earlier in the evening.

Thanks to cooperation and teamwork.

A team that cooks together, works together! :)

:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D

The Greenery - Where Ideas Bloom

The same greenery, the familiar arches.

The same old buildings, yet so new inside.

The same walls, but painted and renewed,

now with a scholarly air.

For now they house not fresh-eyed undergrads,

but experienced executives and leaders in their own circles.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee,

of all types - latte, cappucino, Americano and all,

and snacks - oreos and M&Ms - to give food for thought.

Let a thousand ideas bloom;

let a thousand initiatives grow!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On a Sunday

A weekend,

supposedly a break from work.

But it's alternative work

- housework, paperwork, ... you name it.

Still, there be little pleasures,

like the porridge,

our favourite on a Sunday noon. :D

Keep off! Keep off my car space!

Read the commentary by Fiona Chan in Sunday Life recently? (Below)

How it must resonate with some! Not only do the cars occupy space outside (and the sweeper can't sweep the dead leaves), they don't pack the cars near the sidewalk, making it difficult for others to park or to drive pass. =_=

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Thanks to ST Life)
June 28, 2009
Respect my car space
By Fiona Chan

In a peaceful little cul-de-sac somewhere in the west of Singapore lives a family that is - almost - like any other.
They have a bunch of well-dressed kids, a lovely house and a garage that can hold three cars comfortably.
There's just one problem: The household has more than three cars. Quite a lot more. Seven, to be exact.
When the entire family comes home, as inevitably they do, their cars - marked by the same digits on all their licence plates - overflow onto the road in front of their house like a vehicular oil spill.
They seep insidiously into the lots in front of their neighbours' houses, tarring their personal space and polluting their goodwill.
I know this because every time I drive over to visit my friend, who lives opposite this family, I have to dodge their cars while looking for somewhere convenient to park.
Of course, it's not illegal to take up parking spaces that your neighbours don't use. It's not even morally wrong for a single household to own seven cars (although I, the owner of half a car, think it should be).
But, to me, buying several more cars than your own house can accommodate is the height of inconsideration.
It's not like there isn't an obvious solution: Just sell one of the sports cars and use the money to build a bigger garage, for heaven's sake.
Then again, thoughtless motoring behaviour appears to be the norm in Singapore.
In my own, significantly less wealthy, estate, many of the older single-storey houses are too small to shelter even one car. So residents park their cars right outside their houses, on both sides of the narrow road, along which runs a single white line.
This is actually illegal but the owners clearly don't care.
What they seem more concerned about is glaring at me as I am forced to inch my car through the obstacle course created by their protruding vehicles to get to my house.
I've never actually rammed into one of their cars. But I am always tempted to.
The same goes for all those foodies who park illegally outside eateries - even when there is a perfectly legitimate carpark just a few minutes' walk away - just so they can maximise their eating convenience.
The Sunday Times ran an article last week about how nerve-racking it is for these drivers to dine and dash. But it is 10 times worse for the rest of us, who have our nerves shredded trying to carefully squeeze past their obstructive cars, and don't even get to stuff our faces.
What I would love to do is paste notes on the dashboards of these parked cars and make them look like parking summonses, just to give their owners a scare.
'Gotcha, sucker!' these notes will say. 'Next time it will be for real.'
I don't quite have the meanness - or, to be honest, the balls - to do this, although my friends tell me they've stuck Post-it warnings on the cars they've seen illegally parked near their homes.
All I do, in a cowardly fashion, is live in hope that one day the traffic police will come knocking on the doors of these parking idiots.
After all, in Singapore, that seems to be to be the only way that anyone can be persuaded to do what in other countries would be plain common sense.
Take buses for example. You might think that letting a poor lumbering bus exit from its bus bay would be a natural instinct for other motorists.
But no, drivers have to be threatened with a fine before they will give way to a bus. Unfortunately, there's no penalty for drivers who grumble loudly and non-stop about the new law.
Do we really have to introduce - and enforce - punishments for every thinkable inconsiderate driving activity? Surely there is some shame in always having the obvious spelt out in the form of a law?
If there's anything I've learnt from years of kindness campaigns, it's that courtesy can't be taught. So I'm taking matters into my own hands.
The next time I visit my friend in his cul-de-sac, his neighbours better watch out. I'll be armed - with a bunch of Post-its.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Little Candy Biscuits

Little candy biscuits,

the little button-like biscuits

with the candy swirl on the top.

Little candy biscuits,

oh so colourful and sweet.

A welcome sight to little kiddies

and the young at heart.

And those in search of childhood nostalgia.

Little candy biscuits,

nestled together in the plastic bag.

No great bakery awards,

no health food awards,

not upmarket like some chocolates,

but such comfort they offer

to those in need of it.

tousled curls

Two major pieces of news from the world of entertainment - the death of Michael Jackson and that of Farah Fawcett of "Charlie's Angels" fame.



The name Farah Fawcett brought back memories of the fashion then of tousled curls, those oh-so glamorous flipped-back curls that many young girls hankered for, and asked their hairstylists for. Not easy to do the first time, those curls. =_= It took a while to learn how to blowdry them in that way. The studied casualness of those tousled curls, the care that went into the look.



Hardly cerebral, such fashion-chasing. But oh-so human and part of life. :)

15021

Milo, cool Milo

Milo, that familiar word, that familiar brand.

Milo, iced Milo,

what a welcome.

After an afternoon of recce,

walking around in the heat,

tired and thirty.

Oh, for some refreshing drink!

Milo, iced Milo,

what a welcome.

The ceiling

The glass ceiling, an acrylic one.
Giving shade to the poles of clothes.
Generally contented are the clothes,

especially the dark ones,
to be under the shade.
But we need the Sun, cry the the light-coloured clothes.
We want more, they say;
the ceiling's in our way;
visibility we want.

The glass ceiling, the acrylic one.
Appreciated by some;
an obstacle in the eyes of others.

Life's hard, being a ceiling.
Protecting the clothes against the elements
- the Sun, the wind, the rain.
Yet appreciation's as flitting as the wind.

Paree Tee

In Paree Tee Land, houses can only have two rooms. Except those above 4,000 sq feet. A very clear standard.



The House on Hedge Ahler set the benchmark. Occupying land of 3,900 square feet, it can have only two rooms. It audits the rest of the houses.

One day, after the Sun rose, the other houses saw the glimmer of additional white walls on the House on Hedge Ahler. Closer look found it was a room.

An additional room beyond the two allowed? Rumblings shook the ground. The House on the Hedge Ahler put out word, explaining itself. Its area was 3,900 square feet. So it was very close and could be counted as 4,000 square feet. And anyway, it was only a storeroom.

Ah so! The Paree Tee Landers understood. How come they couldn't see that earlier?

Another day, after the Sun rose, the other houses saw another glimmer of additonal white room. Oh, another storeroom? And so it went on. Somehow, the House on the Hedge Ahler was building storeroom after another. And the standards somehow could be interpreted to make all these legal.

The whimpers from the others went ignored. Gradually Paree Tee Land looked more and more like Animal Farm where some animals were more equal than others. The House got more and more crowded, and strange-looking with storerooms popping up here and there, like toadstools on plants.

Meanwhile the little houses grew gracefully into cosy homes, exuding welcome and care. Little gems these little houses, worthy of the sunshine bestowed by the Sun.

Sunday scenes

Tis Sunday 8.00 am, on the way to the market. Quiet roads ... till we reached the market.

And the Sun took its time to rise, till it glowered at the earth when we travelled nearer and nearer to our destination.

Then cooling relief in the afternoon. Good old ice-cream from the ice-cream trolley! :P