tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213464172024-03-16T02:09:48.078+01:00East meets WestA Singapore girl now living in Shanghai after more than a decade in Western Europe. This blog records some of my recipes (mainly fusion), thoughts and life.Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.comBlogger1379125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-56181922611349423762015-05-17T11:22:00.000+02:002015-05-17T11:40:47.270+02:00Gluten-free Chocolate Hazelnut Cake<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gluten-free Chocolate Hazelnut Cake</td></tr>
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Baby Girl had a very slim lady teacher who was gluten intolerant and I guess I wondered then if that was why she was so slim and elegant. That was the second time I was actually brought to think about this problem, the first being that one Christmas party I attended at <i>Tetra Pak</i> in Modena many years ago where they had a separate buffet spread for employees with coeliac disease. The third occasion was last year when I organised a lunch for my BISS Year 12 class and discovered that one of the very slim and glamorous mums who attended was gluten-intolerant.<br />
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From the look of all the round and boisterous members of my family, none of us seems to be suffering from this misfortune and could eat as much pasta, bread and cakes as we want, which we did, making us look like what we ate basically.<br />
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Then I noticed that gluten-free products whether primary (e.g. flours) or finished tend to be much more expensive than normal ones and that made me curious to find out more about the disease. I even bought a gluten-free cookbook written by some celebrity chef, but must admit that most of the supposedly delicious recipes hadn't inspired me thus far.<br />
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Finally, a Germany bakery here was having a promotion a few weeks back and never one to be able to resist a sale, I bought a packet of premium hazelnut meal and have since been wondering what I could do with it.<br />
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A few days ago, I decided to make a simple <b>Gluten-free Chocolate Hazelnut Cake</b> for 3 reasons: 1. to use up the hazelnut meal; 2. to give the kids a taste of a gluten-free cake; 3. because I suspected that Hub would enjoy it very much.<br />
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The cake turned out very well and I served it with home-made whipped cream. The kids thought it tasted nice, but preferred the "normal" chocolate cakes that I've baked them. Hub, as predicted, loved the taste and texture of the hazelnut meal in the cake and basically ate most of it up on his own!<br />
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The next time there should be a need for a gluten-free offering, I would know what to bring.<br />
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<b>Gluten-free Chocolate Hazelnut Cake:</b><br />
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175g chocolate <span style="font-size: x-small;">(minimum 35% cocoa butter)</span><br />
125g butter<br />
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6 egg whites<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
25g castor sugar<br />
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6 egg yolks<br />
75g granulated sugar<br />
1 tsp pure vanilla extract<br />
1 tbsp grand marnier <span style="font-size: x-small;">(optional)</span><br />
130g hazelnut meal<br />
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Preheat oven to 350°F.<br />
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Line an 18-cm cake tin (mine's more than 7 cm tall) and grease its sides.<br />
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Using a clean and dry electric beater beat the egg whites till stiff, adding the salt and then the sugar along the way. Set aside.<br />
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In a separate bowl melt the butter and chocolate in the microwave. Mix well and set aside to cool.<br />
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In a large mixing bowl cream the eggs and sugar together. Add the vanilla and alcohol.<br />
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Stir in the butter-chocolate mixture.<br />
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Stir in the hazelnut meal.<br />
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With a spatula mix in the egg whites in 2-3 portions.<br />
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Pour into the prepared cake tin and bake for 45 to 55 minutes. The wooden skewer you poke into the cake should come out clean.<br />
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Leave the cake in the tin to cool for a few minutes before turning it out.<br />
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Eat it as it is, with some icing sugar over it, or with home-made whipped cream like we did. The cake was not as compact as it would have been otherwise because of the use of egg whites. It even managed to turn out quite tall even though there was no baking powder in it.<br />
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-36189434933748775932015-05-10T12:29:00.001+02:002015-05-10T12:33:10.088+02:00Pandan Chiffon Cake<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pandan Chiffon Cake</td></tr>
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Baby Boy is very fond of eating <b>Pandan Chiffon Cake</b>. I cannot recall where and when he picked up his first slice of the cake, but it's interesting that he should like it since he grew up in Europe and chiffon cake is not popular there.</div>
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A few months ago we attended a celebration organised by the Singapore Consulate in Shanghai and a vendor sold pandan chiffon cakes in the bazaar there. I was made to buy a small cake that was really expensive, and I asked myself then why I've been making orange and other chiffon cakes in the past but never a pandan one?</div>
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A few afternoons ago, I decided to whip up one quickly to match a charity theme. A few friends of mine here are organisers of the <i>More Than Aware Fun Run</i> yesterday (for breast cancer awareness) and green and pink were the colours for the charity. I made a <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.com/2007/11/boeuf-bourguignon-burgundy-beef-stew-in.html" target="_blank">Beef in Red Wine sauce</a> for the <span style="color: magenta;">pink</span> and decided on a pandan chiffon for the <span style="color: lime;">green</span>. Hub was away as usual (this time abandoning us to be with his best friend in Thailand) so we decided not to join the event, but I've wanted to be with them in spirit.<br />
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The chiffon turned out pretty well as I adapted the recipe for my other chiffon cakes for it, but I made the mistake of not being able to bear the loss of a tiny bit of pandan paste just after I've poured the batter into the mould, dipping the spoon into the batter...unfortunately this bit of paste sank into the bottom of the batter without mixing properly with it and the result could be seen after the cake has been baked. We learn from our mistakes, I'm sure.<br />
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<b>Pandan(us) Chiffon Cake:</b><br />
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6 egg whites<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
½ tsp cream of tartar<br />
70g caster sugar<br />
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6 egg yolks<br />
60g caster sugar<br />
60g canola oil<br />
150ml coconut milk<br />
1 tsp pandanus paste<br />
150g all purpose flour<br />
2 tsp baking powder<br />
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Preheat the oven to 340°F or 175°C.<br />
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In a mixing bowl whisk the egg whites till half stiff. I prefer to prepare the egg whites first when the electric beater is clean so as to minimise failure.<br />
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Add the salt to the whites and continue whisking.<br />
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Add the cream of tartar and continue whisking.<br />
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Finally add the sugar and whisk till stiff but do not over do it.<br />
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In a separate mixing bowl, beat the egg yolks and sugar till creamy.<br />
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Add the oil and continue beating.<br />
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Sift the flour with the baking powder and mix into the batter.<br />
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Stir the pandan paste into the coconut milk and pour into the batter. Mix well.<br />
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Mix the egg white batter into the egg yolk batter in 3 times.<br />
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Pour into an ungreased and unfloured 21-cm chiffon cake tin and bake in the hot oven for 55-60 minutes.<br />
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Turn the cake tin upside down after you've removed it from the oven and let it cool for a while.<br />
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Use a knife with a serrated edge to separate the sides of the cake from the tin and unmould the cake onto a serving plate.<br />
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The cake can be kept (covered to prevent drying) at room temperature for 2-3 days, but probably not more than that as it contains coconut milk. Keep part of it in the fridge if need be.<br />
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-81692273494068291592015-05-10T11:47:00.000+02:002015-05-10T11:50:22.722+02:00Oats in Curry<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oats in Curry</td></tr>
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You read a lot nowadays about how processed food and pollution are killing us, awakening the cancers in our bodies and clogging up all our arteries. It is ironic that as Science prolongs the human life, we end up killing ourselves through the way we chose to live.</div>
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I am, unfortunately, one of those unhealthy people guilty of not eating enough fibre, preferring a largely protein and carbohydrate diet, and also not doing much physical exercise as a general rule.</div>
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My mum is currently an avid reader of the <i>Mind Your Body</i> column in the Straits Times and she really watches what she eats for a couple of years now. That's the same mum who was feeding us snacks all day long when we were kids, fried frozen food from the supermarket (especially during the boom import years when Singapore started becoming very quickly industrialised) and yummy restaurant fare on weekends and during outings.</div>
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You look at my siblings and myself and you know that genes apart, we have picked up our fat body shape and generally bad eating habits from those years and it's not possible to turn back the clock. As a mother, I have passed on some of these bad habits to my own children and they are even worse eaters than I've ever been. I started out really well when they were babies and I had to prepare their baby food daily and fresh, but once they started being able to eat food from outside, all my good resolutions flew out of the window and I basically fed them as I would myself.</div>
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At the same time, I really think that we should enjoy our food and I wake up every morning looking forward to what I would savour in the day. My grand aunt died when she was 100 years old (the one who used to teach Mrs LKY Geography in MGS, and who was the wife of my illustrous grand uncle Dr. Lim Tay Boh) and as far as I could remember, she spent decades basically eating only boiled vegetables and very little meat (also boiled). I don't think I can live like that, I'd be happy to die of a heart attack later on in life if I'd had my fill of good steaks and other sinful delights.</div>
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But you can see that I've nonetheless given some thought to the subject, so I made a resolution to at least eat more healthy stuff like oats whenever I can. The other day I made a chicken curry (actually I make a curry or 2 every week) and we finished most of the meat leaving the equivalent of a small bowl of the gravy behind.</div>
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For breakfast the next day, I reheated the gravy with a few tablespoons of rolled oats without overcooking them. <b>Oats in Curry </b>tasted surprisingly pleasant, almost like a dal.</div>
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I endeavour to repeat this dish as often as I can in times to come, in fact, I also had oats in <i>Bak Kut Teh</i> a few days later.</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-58094483483421666432015-05-02T09:21:00.003+02:002015-05-03T14:36:44.984+02:00Darwin, Litchfield, Pine Creek and Kakadu in August 2014<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the Nadab floodplain from Ubirr lookout</td></tr>
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It was on a whim that I decided to fly the family to <b>Darwin, Australia</b> when we were in Singapore last August. The flight would take less than 5 hours and August was the dry season which would mean good accessibility to most of the sights in the National Parks, not to forget less risk of encountering crocodiles.</div>
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For a number of years now we like to combine nature, food and culture in our holidays and I've always wanted to visit UNESCO-listed Kakadu National Park where the Aboriginal people are said to inhabit for more than 40000 years. We also prefer to self-drive and visiting Darwin during the dry season is essential for that. We started our stay in Darwin with a bit of drama as Hub had left his credit cards behind in Singapore (being used to traveling empty-handed when he's with me) and <i>Budget </i>refused to rent us the car we had reserved because of that. We spent a frightening 30 minutes trying to find an alternative and must commend the lady at <i>Thrifty</i> for her kindness when she discovered the shit we were in. She agreed to rent us a car using my credit card (though Hub would do the driving) and even found us the car we wanted for a slightly higher price than Budget. <i>Whew!</i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George Brown Darwin Botanic Gardens</td></tr>
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We were dead tired actually having arrived before 6am in Darwin. Drove out to the <b><i>George Brown Darwin Botanic Gardens</i> </b>for a walk after breakfast as it was too early to check into our hotel. The grounds were not too big, but the gardens were lovely and it was interesting seeing houses built over void decks. I imagine it was to survive the flooding and crocodiles swimming around during wet season.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DhbJRqtPrx2-Kj_hGrOlgvhbS6Ib8UNBjs4T0_2gj-DB7r-psESzu2okqV5nqDzh8k7zD8dc9tAZTvAiU1h22F2oglLSmcmwTeYfp7R9wFJzkS9g0z6SoAIYpVfzl7s6T9mT/s1600/museum_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DhbJRqtPrx2-Kj_hGrOlgvhbS6Ib8UNBjs4T0_2gj-DB7r-psESzu2okqV5nqDzh8k7zD8dc9tAZTvAiU1h22F2oglLSmcmwTeYfp7R9wFJzkS9g0z6SoAIYpVfzl7s6T9mT/s1600/museum_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MAGNT</td></tr>
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With the car rental fiasco we missed watching the sun rise at <i><b>Mindil Beach</b></i>, but left the kids to play on the sand while we checked out the <i><b>Northern Territory Museum and Art Gallery</b></i> (MAGNT). It was a small gallery, but we learnt some interesting facts about Cyclone Tracy that devastated much of Darwin and also learnt about Aboriginal art, the NT being the traditional homeland for many of the Aborigines in Australia. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPSajMJ2NlIuuiun3rRCUp5XD-foYMhbgaM6asCyiYtxQ249tOSXcovCtZ7ejLol0W-uLaeFqb8kEusnki9HmWjecPc0KVN098I5LRc3MIgaPV4vjC0nbvHO7mTZtU_W7V0aO/s1600/darwin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMPSajMJ2NlIuuiun3rRCUp5XD-foYMhbgaM6asCyiYtxQ249tOSXcovCtZ7ejLol0W-uLaeFqb8kEusnki9HmWjecPc0KVN098I5LRc3MIgaPV4vjC0nbvHO7mTZtU_W7V0aO/s1600/darwin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mindil Beach and Stokes Hill Wharf neighbourhood</td></tr>
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<i><b>Darwin</b></i> is a very small and expensive city and I was initially quite shocked to discover the cost of accommodation as I was planning the trip. However, as we only had a full day and night to spend in the city, I booked us 2 rooms at the <i>Palms City Resort</i> just in front of the esplanade. It was within walking distance to most places including <i><b>Stokes Hill Wharf </b></i>where there were wave pools, restaurants and a food court selling different types of food including seafood, Thai and Indian. For dinner, we bought wonderful meat and wine from a nearby supermarket and had a BBQ by the hotel's pool.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2HCvjm7bJu2RMLRiIOrQ4UZ8lFVQkF9aZvhgiKPy5pb32vcHBxlF5cxgR1UoBxG74bWHZ7fU9Umjiw1UDPI0N9ptYXvvqoO9E120e4jJpRQBl7UZSkpUZa5AqmYagD_t_2wI/s1600/termite_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT2HCvjm7bJu2RMLRiIOrQ4UZ8lFVQkF9aZvhgiKPy5pb32vcHBxlF5cxgR1UoBxG74bWHZ7fU9Umjiw1UDPI0N9ptYXvvqoO9E120e4jJpRQBl7UZSkpUZa5AqmYagD_t_2wI/s1600/termite_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Magnetic Termite Mounds, Litchfield Park.</td></tr>
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The next morning we set out for <b><i>Litchfield Park</i> </b>which while not as famous as Kakadu is really well worth a visit. You reach the <b><i>Magnetic</i></b><i><b> Termite mounds </b></i>first and these cathedral mounds were fascinating as many were taller than us and you learn about the ecosystems, the respect the traditional people have for nature, for their land. Apparently blind worker ants used their inbuilt magnetic compass to orientate their mounds in a North-South direction to keep out the heat, hence the term magnetic termite mounds. Ironically I would discover a huge termite problem in my current rental home just after and I can assure you I didn't take to them kindly and was hell bent on their extermination, no way I wanted any mounds in my house or garden.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8yEk5GpMTVFwOsm-20TS0VbKJnCu0W2CvqWN6_XwcRp41B3zs0rtN2s4DRQ5BdL3lpyYTAN6eynE3CgqccFmD-LMqZNIS7f5OEz4bc6DNacz_Wyx7Z1s4cMs0gYzw3RVom68M/s1600/florence+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8yEk5GpMTVFwOsm-20TS0VbKJnCu0W2CvqWN6_XwcRp41B3zs0rtN2s4DRQ5BdL3lpyYTAN6eynE3CgqccFmD-LMqZNIS7f5OEz4bc6DNacz_Wyx7Z1s4cMs0gYzw3RVom68M/s1600/florence+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Florence Falls, Litchfield Park.</td></tr>
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We drove further inland and reached <b><i>Florence Falls </i></b>where we walked some distance to enjoy a picnic lunch followed by a beautiful swim in the pools beneath the falls. I was just a little bit insulted when some Australians stopped by where we were eating to remind us to carry our rubbish with us. Much as I appreciated their concern, I felt that there was no need for us to be patronised, especially when we were not throwing anything around us.<br />
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During the dry season, it's easier to drive around on one's own as well as access pools where crocodiles would have been cleared out so that it would be safe to swim in them. But the rule remains that you don't swim in any body of water if there are no signs telling you it <i>may</i> be safe to do so.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRT6J-IyGfNWb15SX-qPETUIeIh9GKQS5_WBpRizQOdzpX_6Orrv2i3Tl-VAf0AMm59U4xw-UpU_bsRzdrBvtZ6DE4OdTo_1GcqAdtD3h4vPEJ4KBkGP_Uf8l5wD0P1w8A9RE/s1600/buley+rockhole+and+tolmer+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYRT6J-IyGfNWb15SX-qPETUIeIh9GKQS5_WBpRizQOdzpX_6Orrv2i3Tl-VAf0AMm59U4xw-UpU_bsRzdrBvtZ6DE4OdTo_1GcqAdtD3h4vPEJ4KBkGP_Uf8l5wD0P1w8A9RE/s1600/buley+rockhole+and+tolmer+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buley Rockhole (top middle) and Tolmer Falls Lookout</td></tr>
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After our swim (the skies were blue and we didn't have a drop of rain during our week there so an occasional swim was always welcome to help beat the heat), we continued walking and reached the <b><i>Tolmer Falls lookout </i></b>before finishing at <b><i>Buley Rockhole</i></b> which was near where we parked our car. The Tolmer Falls area was breathtakingly beautiful and we were pleased to discover that though it was peak tourist season in the NT there were still not that many people around no matter where you went. What a change from China!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOzBD5xjYobtKM_vKa2qaz2Mb63JGJBSHbvvWvD_k1fGaIqffH_1AIk2b35jMFdZgCNakghR5Q8c850XpvIbVzOxwq8aW0fJRIm3b-HyTc7Gd34SVhEET3YqcKZq0Hsg8Gxuf/s1600/safari+camp_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJOzBD5xjYobtKM_vKa2qaz2Mb63JGJBSHbvvWvD_k1fGaIqffH_1AIk2b35jMFdZgCNakghR5Q8c850XpvIbVzOxwq8aW0fJRIm3b-HyTc7Gd34SVhEET3YqcKZq0Hsg8Gxuf/s1600/safari+camp_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Litchfield Safari Camp</td></tr>
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I have decided to stay overnight in the park so that we would be able to start our next morning at the Cascades. Also, I thought it would be fun for us to stay in a <i>Safari Camp</i> for a change, while still having access to our own private toilet and shower. If you are looking for a budget holiday and do not have your own tent or caravan, forget the NT. We had to pay a small fortune to stay in this tent while being eaten alive by mosquitoes and freezing to death in the middle of the night. But it was quite fun just to have done it once and we even had a BBQ in front of our tent with supplies from the camp's little store.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHyCXnJwT029FAkufjJfDskXu0uiJRbI-GKOt0zpUu64NlVsLsrCVXlm9ZlYNxTOSoEW6A2QbhjT-QXl7CgVMphOk8gJJswEfdygCXcMb3SkKqEX1B4_FwBuqQM9s_2PeV8qo/s1600/cascades_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHyCXnJwT029FAkufjJfDskXu0uiJRbI-GKOt0zpUu64NlVsLsrCVXlm9ZlYNxTOSoEW6A2QbhjT-QXl7CgVMphOk8gJJswEfdygCXcMb3SkKqEX1B4_FwBuqQM9s_2PeV8qo/s1600/cascades_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Cascades, Litchfield Park.</td></tr>
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You don't walk/climb your way to the <b><i>Cascades</i></b> in tongs or slippers. It was still quite a walk in and the ground was rocky and slippery, but if you were there early in the morning before the tourist buses arrive, you would probably have the pools all to yourselves (hence a good idea to stay in Litchfield for the night). It was a beautiful swim surrounded by nature and we loved Litchfield Park for all these relatively accessible swimming holes.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl7wJIG0BjXwVJI8CvYVPaEL6zpCNiH9XiQ47B-BGMhWlwvAEWy3ep4T8bqb8XRnWGraBh1DmLKTv6NzBdp_Rp1ZQRIo0XpmoqB8heJqHwgVzbLnKgrX7DzOpuI6pUK9t-Pr2/s1600/wangi+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKl7wJIG0BjXwVJI8CvYVPaEL6zpCNiH9XiQ47B-BGMhWlwvAEWy3ep4T8bqb8XRnWGraBh1DmLKTv6NzBdp_Rp1ZQRIo0XpmoqB8heJqHwgVzbLnKgrX7DzOpuI6pUK9t-Pr2/s1600/wangi+falls_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wangi Falls, Litchfield Park.</td></tr>
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On the way out of Litchfield Park we stopped by <b><i>Wangi Falls </i></b>to have another swim and that would be our last easily accessible swimming hole for what remained of our stay in the NT. Of course we have only done the usual tourist spots in Litchfield since we didn't have a real 4WD nor too much time, but if you have a real 4WD (and it's your own since rental cars are usually not allowed on unpaved roads) with preferably a scuba you would be able to visit even more amazing places in the parks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVw9Q4MzK2LDmQKGU6z5vj-m1nwHhpU-jDW3F6LEKTEmzjSmZ8bO1u1HJV08L3_f-kuuWxkglS5EFJG7qAK90mS4RaZoFH7woyA7SREEM8fKotNxae71Qv3wpgsVca3pJlSkr/s1600/pinecreek_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNVw9Q4MzK2LDmQKGU6z5vj-m1nwHhpU-jDW3F6LEKTEmzjSmZ8bO1u1HJV08L3_f-kuuWxkglS5EFJG7qAK90mS4RaZoFH7woyA7SREEM8fKotNxae71Qv3wpgsVca3pJlSkr/s1600/pinecreek_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mobile home and pool at the Lazy Lizard; a colonial-era building in Pine Creek town.</td></tr>
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From Litchfield Park we continued south into the Katherine region and stopped at the little town of <b><i>Pine Creek </i></b>that used to be a booming gold mining and iron ore mining town. Spent the night at the <i>Lazy Lizard </i>where we had a mobile home and the kids swam in the pool where once a crocodile was found swimming in. Pine Creek was really quiet when we were there and we didn't encounter anyone when we walked in the neighbourhood. We were planning to visit Umbrawarra Gorge nearby, but it was turning dark and we didn't dare take the risk, so we had to give it a miss.<br />
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Had a pretty good dinner at our holiday park which also had a supermarket and gas station. Last stop for gas on the Stuart Highway before Kakadu National Park, by the way.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChHYibBwGcyKmOX_A-_smemzPCW5BpsXIVXMuSRrilyxaw-_kz7ePPe5GFegEQ-nsw3wqblsiHFJf4Rxuirr9uYVuwW3QbTJrBmrY_wfS-8udEQnIU7-UMIFOjF6QhtPzEOEN/s1600/mary+river+and+gunlom_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChHYibBwGcyKmOX_A-_smemzPCW5BpsXIVXMuSRrilyxaw-_kz7ePPe5GFegEQ-nsw3wqblsiHFJf4Rxuirr9uYVuwW3QbTJrBmrY_wfS-8udEQnIU7-UMIFOjF6QhtPzEOEN/s1600/mary+river+and+gunlom_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger station and Maguk Plunge Pool</td></tr>
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We entered <b><i>Kakadu National Park</i></b> from the Mary River region and decided to drive to <b><i>Maguk </i></b>(Barramundi Gorge) for a swim. We stopped by the Ranger station hoping to buy park tickets (A$25 per person) and obtain information about driving accessibility to one of the water falls, but there wasn't a soul to be seen. On the map, Maguk is only accessible via 4WD along a 12km track. We were pretty desperate to check out the plunge pool reputed to be one of the few in Kakadu whose waterfall still flows during dry season, so we decided to give it a go.<br />
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It was fortunate for us that Hub was a brave and good driver. We had 4WD in our rental car, but it was really tricky driving through the sandy stretches and a couple of times we were almost stuck especially when we had to stop when there were cars coming from the other end. My heart stopped beating a few times, but the 2km return walk through monsoon forest and along a rocky creek leading to a small waterfall and clear plunge pool really made it worth our while. However, Maguk was scary too because estuarine crocodiles have been known to move into the area even during dry season, so one still had to be vigilant when walking and swimming in the gorge.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrVL_i5I6zNfe1yRfn1HkBALXVKVk4ATYsX8CMSW7oTK-08QYP7Tq_pupyWoEgrkNXvmciJqBiS2sKqKwvwFo0on1UfAkBBMMjBVbNhnZOl6onqJ85c78-U4Gen0pE2ZZKY6Fa/s1600/yellow+water_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrVL_i5I6zNfe1yRfn1HkBALXVKVk4ATYsX8CMSW7oTK-08QYP7Tq_pupyWoEgrkNXvmciJqBiS2sKqKwvwFo0on1UfAkBBMMjBVbNhnZOl6onqJ85c78-U4Gen0pE2ZZKY6Fa/s1600/yellow+water_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow River</td></tr>
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It was with regret that we left for the <b><i>Yellow Water</i></b> region, hoping to catch the famous Yellow Water cruise. However, I made the mistake of not booking for places in advance and had to give it a miss though we were there in time for a departure. We walked around the beautiful banks of the river and visited the <b><i>Warradjan Aboriginal Cultural Centre </i></b>instead. Very interesting centre that described traditional lives and beliefs in the region, definitely a must visit.<br />
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From there we drove up to<b><i> Jabiru</i></b>, the main township in Kakadu. You have a few hotels, a library, supermarket, bakery (good pies) etc in Jabiru and we finally managed to buy our park tickets at the very nice <i>Bowali Visitor Centre</i>. Actually it was a little expensive when they were for 14 days and you only planned to stay for 4, but it was important to buy them in order to support the maintenance of the park.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzRlXuI0c6B7NXnWflmUcXm9N38FURwBlQ_KlajW2-USQQWMNTBu4YNd7rcJZ6LvKsXHZHfU202dXSPL4lPE7gv1Mg-749eh_qUmpkAuP86BNV22S56AsFpvHPKQuF67SOkcT/s1600/kakadu+lodge_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzRlXuI0c6B7NXnWflmUcXm9N38FURwBlQ_KlajW2-USQQWMNTBu4YNd7rcJZ6LvKsXHZHfU202dXSPL4lPE7gv1Mg-749eh_qUmpkAuP86BNV22S56AsFpvHPKQuF67SOkcT/s1600/kakadu+lodge_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kakadu Lodge</td></tr>
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We took a mobile home in <i>Kakadu Lodge</i> and once again it was expensive for what you get, but there was a large pool, pretty good bistro and BBQ pits everywhere. From Jabiru, it was also easy to visit the important sights in the park, so it was a good idea to set up base there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIdcRkqMuiHEoe1gzdLk366xK2KxMC-zT9xmVfjRofCt5Q1XK9WJnTQ1i92RBMQF3X4HwVX5MOi3T7Xzic4ym5eUe7-xmSaAeebCQFU-NMqsYDxwavyIvn69oz-WJ9hPf1nSPB/s1600/mangarre+walk+and+cahills+crossing_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIdcRkqMuiHEoe1gzdLk366xK2KxMC-zT9xmVfjRofCt5Q1XK9WJnTQ1i92RBMQF3X4HwVX5MOi3T7Xzic4ym5eUe7-xmSaAeebCQFU-NMqsYDxwavyIvn69oz-WJ9hPf1nSPB/s1600/mangarre+walk+and+cahills+crossing_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Manngarre walk and Cahills Crossing</td></tr>
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We spent the next day in the <i>East Alligator </i>region. After a few drinks at the <i>Border Store</i> we walked and walked for the next few hours: <i>Manngarre rainforest walk</i>, the fascinating <b><i>Cahills Crossing</i></b>, <i>Bardedjilidji walk</i>...Cahills Crossing was fascinating because we stood on the banks of the alligator river watching crocodiles (quite a number of them) swim in it - as a few cars tried to cross to the other bank. There were tense moments as you watched a few crocodiles crossing the land bridge in between cars, and you know that if for some reason a car should lose control and flip into the water, it would be surrounded pretty quickly by a number of the reptiles.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPu_0tlRhYkPd3an-BCKLc_vLPpzioHEBTyNQOpk3mkPIMIByAq8Bur0PsN3N6UrlvrSnGww83KHJBWAyZYiBGAbLmx5HtKv0OxbItXVRgTwqqKoDHDn8d3HVhsb-eFrveaWYq/s1600/bardedjilidji+walk_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPu_0tlRhYkPd3an-BCKLc_vLPpzioHEBTyNQOpk3mkPIMIByAq8Bur0PsN3N6UrlvrSnGww83KHJBWAyZYiBGAbLmx5HtKv0OxbItXVRgTwqqKoDHDn8d3HVhsb-eFrveaWYq/s1600/bardedjilidji+walk_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bardedjilidji bush and sandstone walk</td></tr>
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I found the Bardedjilidji and extended sandstone walks savagely beautiful. The sandstone formations were rather grand and there were moments you felt you were in the middle of nowhere surrounded just by bushes and layered sandstone outliers. There wasn't much shade so it could get pretty hot and we were often bitten by huge flies whose bites really hurt!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKFiw-VgmPeNHX7R26cKtT9Wc5yH5OxCtXXEwtnIr0WooXuAsGA2iwEaJhhw7qzVYZbNHJ1mDfiiuTuVxMZv0gP58CWQScq7a9Vttm_NglkJLHGqJnW7uS_iP6bALGz8-fC9R/s1600/rockart_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxKFiw-VgmPeNHX7R26cKtT9Wc5yH5OxCtXXEwtnIr0WooXuAsGA2iwEaJhhw7qzVYZbNHJ1mDfiiuTuVxMZv0gP58CWQScq7a9Vttm_NglkJLHGqJnW7uS_iP6bALGz8-fC9R/s1600/rockart_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rock art at Ubirr</td></tr>
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The late afternoon was spent at <b><i>Ubirr</i></b>. Ubirr's the site of several fascinating Aboriginal rock art sites and a rocky climb takes you to the top of a rocky lookout that offers superb views over the Nadab floodplain: rock, bush, plain. All I could think of once I was up there was <i>WOW</i>! In the older days the traditional peoples took refuge in the rock shelters and I believe that they didn't have the written word and transmitted their stories, rules, celebrations and beliefs through paintings on the rocks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixCfmlaPdm7cwCAaTcHE5TLPhU6CMHwF1JJQDARmAH5vG3CMJqOKiDYv3Y4edd7WoDtoC3kiqGV6EOpxXQJya2OSrumjse6jaG_8cVzFX5LVF84JR0EPm7-BplGk_Q5vhRpDXb/s1600/ubirr_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixCfmlaPdm7cwCAaTcHE5TLPhU6CMHwF1JJQDARmAH5vG3CMJqOKiDYv3Y4edd7WoDtoC3kiqGV6EOpxXQJya2OSrumjse6jaG_8cVzFX5LVF84JR0EPm7-BplGk_Q5vhRpDXb/s1600/ubirr_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ubirr lookout</td></tr>
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You could see that they eat kangaroo, emu, turtle, water snake, grub, yam, use a kind of pricky leaf from the bush and may rear water buffaloes. The land stretches, but we hardly ever saw anybody or even a hut. Where do they live within the park?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-vQmSudJS9jXMXAT0THVN-MgTOSdYSOehKyKNBZDiUck1Bw9v7-PWjaT189EAOaP2JqqUXsmkKzocv2TC2KTsnl66mTEpbUCkXtZ9MaKo6iMq3LTwQvjFmUW7_o3rYsQp1Na/s1600/anbangbang_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-vQmSudJS9jXMXAT0THVN-MgTOSdYSOehKyKNBZDiUck1Bw9v7-PWjaT189EAOaP2JqqUXsmkKzocv2TC2KTsnl66mTEpbUCkXtZ9MaKo6iMq3LTwQvjFmUW7_o3rYsQp1Na/s1600/anbangbang_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anbangbang Billabong</td></tr>
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On our 3rd day in Kakadu we spent our time in the <b><i>Nourlangie </i></b>region. We walked through the beautiful <i>Anbangbang Billabong</i> with its bird life and with Nourlangie forming its backdrop; we visited more rock art in <i>Nourlangie</i> and did part of the long and difficult <i>sandstone Barrk walk</i>, picnicking up there somewhere on one of the rock formations before making our way back down to the carpark.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOEcMHVy5DqDXIgE9xqlayE5akOpKuwXvEzen5jAM6lW2z-NfEIypad53UNKDvD65eC30wAs99R-Mft5eSSCsxB5xCk68bgmdBr1zyLHrVLT6TZSOemlvkrEDfGFD8xAzNk1o/s1600/nourlangie_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOEcMHVy5DqDXIgE9xqlayE5akOpKuwXvEzen5jAM6lW2z-NfEIypad53UNKDvD65eC30wAs99R-Mft5eSSCsxB5xCk68bgmdBr1zyLHrVLT6TZSOemlvkrEDfGFD8xAzNk1o/s1600/nourlangie_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nourlangie art sites</td></tr>
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I was sometimes a bit pissed off with our slave driver. Anything that could be climbed would be climbed, and a holiday sometimes became less of a vacation because of the fatigue. Much as it was satisfying reaching somewhere to enjoy a beautiful view or have a lovely swim, there was only so much nature a city girl like me could stomach. It's probably the insects that got to me too, I totally couldn't stand them. But well...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPAxlPqhig5xjVGcXJmiwk8hG_N3b_Dexe8WmmMjfpNvnkVdPBsSh7UcnkGaj1U-nbCm594MClaynI7M3YrrrdGG7EdAiwRp8fQo6Ymw3w8gbnRn19-LDsAPiix-qsaLVIADz/s1600/barrk_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPAxlPqhig5xjVGcXJmiwk8hG_N3b_Dexe8WmmMjfpNvnkVdPBsSh7UcnkGaj1U-nbCm594MClaynI7M3YrrrdGG7EdAiwRp8fQo6Ymw3w8gbnRn19-LDsAPiix-qsaLVIADz/s1600/barrk_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch at mid point of Barrk walk</td></tr>
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We were told that the traditional owners (Warramal) of Nourlangie were extinct, and that other neighbouring clans are helping them look after the land. They really have a lot of respect for the land and their culture, which considering the hardships coming with such an extensive and harsh landscape is quite something.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODX9ysD3Er3C8OBPZYX2auZIDaV7lA1xrWMEAhschjRb1YxsyesVT2xSEK1ksREpkzdYNdFhGP6LHNZvg3mx_lyc1Dy7vvvW6rsoa-CdTvK6gru2XhEENSSU4KukG4UlwyPkc/s1600/gubara_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgODX9ysD3Er3C8OBPZYX2auZIDaV7lA1xrWMEAhschjRb1YxsyesVT2xSEK1ksREpkzdYNdFhGP6LHNZvg3mx_lyc1Dy7vvvW6rsoa-CdTvK6gru2XhEENSSU4KukG4UlwyPkc/s1600/gubara_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6km return walk to Gubara</td></tr>
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That afternoon, we walked for ages trying/hoping to reach the pools at <b><i>Gubara</i></b>, knowing as we started out that there may not be enough water in the pools to swim in because of the dry season. But Hub being always optimistic (a trait which often irritates a pessimist like me) insisted that we try, so we did, getting sand in our tongs as we walked, trying to avoid flies that bit, hoping not to come across any crocodiles.<br />
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And of course there wasn't much water in the pools when we finally reached there, and we consoled ourselves by soaking our tired feet in the cool waters before we made the long walk back to the carpark. Fortunately there was a pool at our hotel as it was another really hot and dry day out in Kakadu.<br />
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We left Kakadu Park after breakfast and passed through <i>Mamukala </i>on the Arnhem Highway rapidly. My initial plan was to visit the wetlands and observe its famous bird life on our way back to Darwin, but I managed to secure a visit to Pudakul and had to get us there by 10:30am.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK21vJEbv47Kwd7398WijnAvAVlwcQGdJyW6af9BeYbiQjfwnPt1VwkC2DZhIkckLpHpxi79Qh0x6GQ2ijGmH2DmTa6pqUZLUiijqv-IMUqbpvCNYMwPAllPAwwsw-TNkSyVC/s1600/pudakul_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbK21vJEbv47Kwd7398WijnAvAVlwcQGdJyW6af9BeYbiQjfwnPt1VwkC2DZhIkckLpHpxi79Qh0x6GQ2ijGmH2DmTa6pqUZLUiijqv-IMUqbpvCNYMwPAllPAwwsw-TNkSyVC/s1600/pudakul_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pudakul: Aboriginal cultural tour</td></tr>
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<b><i>Pudakul</i></b> is a family-run business situated off the Arnhem Highway about an hour away from Darwin. The head of the family is an elder of his clan and they own stretches of traditional land in the region. He works as a ranger in Kakadu Park certain times of the year while his wife and 3 daughters help run their cultural tours. We met the youngest that morning and she was a pretty student who was studying tourism management and who seemed perfectly at ease in both the traditional and modern worlds in the NT.<br />
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We parked our car in front of the billabong and later found out that crocodiles lived in it. In fact, during the wet season the whole area would be flooded and you would need to navigate the waters in boats and the crocs would be swimming near your houses etc. We were told that often they would travel with an animal like a dog as the crocodiles usually go for the smallest creature first! Girl welcomed us with a cup of water from the Billabong and spat on us with it so as to ward off evil spirits and allow us to move around their homestead safely.<br />
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We then met the father and learnt some interesting stuff about the traditional laws and customs. For instance, the Aboriginals have strict marriage laws and they have a chart (according to their colours etc) telling them who they could and could not marry. Also, when siblings reach a certain age (just before puberty, I think), the different sexes would have to be separated and could no longer talk or play with each other for the rest of their lives. That sounded totally harsh and unnecessary to us, but of course it was something natural for them in order to avoid incest. Many guys would appreciate the fact that they wouldn't have any need to accommodate their MILs, nor even to talk to them, because of this rule!<br />
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Daddy explained to us how they created (from termite-hollowed out trunks of certain trees) and blew their didgeridoos, how they created their colours, how to throw a spear. Girl explained how they weave their baskets, how they hunt and we questioned them about school systems, land ownership, recipes etc. They still hunt for their meat e.g. wallaby, turtle, snake...though she claimed that she didn't find them particularly tasty actually. Nowadays they also eat food like pasta and rice that they buy in the supermarket and occasionally vegetables. Seems like they have a protein-based diet most of the time and they are not allowed to eat certain animals according to what they themselves are supposed to represent (the mums would normally know that during their pregnancies). We enjoyed the 2 hours spent with them and were glad we chose to do this instead of the jumping crocodile cruise nearby.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XWLLeox82mhEZZTVO3fPvpYzpiK2HWGM3Om1rSDD7W_I4lGmdnuqJsRCE1vnpIVfKnOzBsoJEod1mw9_8NMHUdVBaRqZTnG9z8BXrSLXMbvNuQAMbarSMiXs8flkgX_6xHlU/s1600/parap_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XWLLeox82mhEZZTVO3fPvpYzpiK2HWGM3Om1rSDD7W_I4lGmdnuqJsRCE1vnpIVfKnOzBsoJEod1mw9_8NMHUdVBaRqZTnG9z8BXrSLXMbvNuQAMbarSMiXs8flkgX_6xHlU/s1600/parap_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parap Village Apartments</td></tr>
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Our last night was spent in the <b><i>Parap</i></b> neighbourhood in Darwin, love this area with its nice little shops and the apartment we were in was really comfortable with a great balcony for dining in! There was an electric BBQ in the balcony so we bought great meat from the butchers opposite and cooked ourselves a lovely dinner. Lunch was fish and chips from the chippery opposite, yummy too. Darwin was fabulous in the dry season, was really glad we made the trip there.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiei_bh30Ul8L_3s4GLL3DzU4lqxCr2cQXr-Bxg6Yc0N_t6gDdCGNseK7sCuyXYvYZHWgtSwHWOEoAy5PxmEeEaIRHbYXyXGntZWDfxxrOPdoe6urs2ZzTWsdxtAVtteJHEAACT/s1600/kakadu+pano.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiei_bh30Ul8L_3s4GLL3DzU4lqxCr2cQXr-Bxg6Yc0N_t6gDdCGNseK7sCuyXYvYZHWgtSwHWOEoAy5PxmEeEaIRHbYXyXGntZWDfxxrOPdoe6urs2ZzTWsdxtAVtteJHEAACT/s1600/kakadu+pano.JPG" height="138" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maguk Panorama</td></tr>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-84830600561637500692015-04-16T12:26:00.001+02:002015-04-16T12:46:37.515+02:00First Time Skiing in Japan (Niseko, Hokkaido, March-April 2015)<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCi70NhSKiUB-eZ4Vr8SwOCvRlauP29Bv-f9AuFOG78220Me_3zyi8VT9ofCqrC1bF1BnUN2hLTOuAiDQ2m8N2_RO-m1sCGGuV0T70jqIQkAxbucNrUbkdb7Y997s1DKpAtmd/s1600/Hirafu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJCi70NhSKiUB-eZ4Vr8SwOCvRlauP29Bv-f9AuFOG78220Me_3zyi8VT9ofCqrC1bF1BnUN2hLTOuAiDQ2m8N2_RO-m1sCGGuV0T70jqIQkAxbucNrUbkdb7Y997s1DKpAtmd/s1600/Hirafu.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of Mount Yotei (Ezo Fuji)</td></tr>
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With the exception of The Young Adult who started at age 4, my kids started learning how to ski when they were barely 3. No matter where we were in the world (e.g. USA, Germany, Italy...), we would return to France to ski in the French Alps.</div>
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We did that 3 years running even when we were living in China. It was a total hassle, very tiring, not to forget expensive. One year we had a connecting flight (Paris to Lyon) cancelled, had our baggage (containing the ski suits) delayed, and missed our bus connecting Lyon airport to the ski station. <i>Total nightmare.</i></div>
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Call it ski chauvinism, but Hub and the kids were convinced (still are) that there is nowhere better or more suitable for alpine skiing than the French Alps. Until the year before, the Babies were also taking ski lessons with the Ecole Française du Ski (ESF) and only decided to stop when they all had their Bronze Star. Baby Boy now talks of eventually trying for the Gold Star, probably because he realises that he could still improve his technique and enjoy skiing even more as a result.</div>
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I decided to put a stop to this skiing business for this year, for no way was I going to go through all that hassle yet again for a week of freezing cold and sore legs. Needless to say I'm hopeless at the sport, having picked it up too old and being afraid of my own shadow. I'm totally out of shape, so skiing can only be a torture for me. Yet I've reached the stage where I get really bored doing the easy runs and am too slow for the more challenging ones.</div>
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Looking at their disappointed faces, I relented and proposed a compromise: why don't we go to Korea (because air tickets are cheaper)? Hub was absolutely not motivated as he had never heard of Korea being a great place for skiing. I reminded him of the Winter Olympics, but he just had to be stubborn about it.</div>
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Then I remembered Japan. I have a friend who has been skiing there for nearly 2 decades and loved it. Hub has heard good things about <b>Niseko</b> too, about the <i>powder snow</i>, important snowfall and the efficient logistics. By the time we decided to go, the only holidays we had left was Spring/Easter Break, so we bought tickets to New Chitose for end March, booked a log cabin at <b>Hirafu </b>and prayed for snow.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuJr6zTvqxoIEQ3Uy7_kehLFRLr6YC4l5Ux34JzpQ7uSWmINjOg7hhRZHpCfH3ZZWoCh4qgMLkrVEq_-7H8HVE_JYNrbkkqmoo5dF-3A-VjAzd_6oRAT1JQP9vJ_GEDaXAUhT/s1600/Way+to+Hirafu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCuJr6zTvqxoIEQ3Uy7_kehLFRLr6YC4l5Ux34JzpQ7uSWmINjOg7hhRZHpCfH3ZZWoCh4qgMLkrVEq_-7H8HVE_JYNrbkkqmoo5dF-3A-VjAzd_6oRAT1JQP9vJ_GEDaXAUhT/s1600/Way+to+Hirafu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the way to Niseko</td></tr>
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We arrived in Hokkaido on a sunny day and the plane (China Eastern), miraculously, was on time. We even had the time to grab a delicious pasta lunch before we settled onto our comfortable <i>Hokkaido Resort Liner</i> bus to Hirafu. The transfer lasted 2,5 hours and we were picked up at the Hirafu Welcome Centre by our hosts Tohsan and Kahsan of <b><i><a href="http://www.nisekofullnote.com/" target="_blank">Fullnote Pension</a></i></b>.</div>
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During peak season, it will probably not be possible for us to sleep in the log cabin which can house up to 10 people. But we were more or less the only guests there that week, it being almost the end of the Season. In fact, most restaurants were closed or closing, many shuttle buses stopped running and even the airport transfers would stop a week after our departure (or already had).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNoV7ch6r9O7XHX6qtk78uY_rOT9AjtwkBVin4S0GVUamwBeuQ4T-u1i_IlYCgAUPqCoyMzve33u6ZkW1qnDT3snPon1uzD7CG3W_-Khr8lqsTydm9JzXWxMIC7uWzQerq5Q1/s1600/log+cabin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfNoV7ch6r9O7XHX6qtk78uY_rOT9AjtwkBVin4S0GVUamwBeuQ4T-u1i_IlYCgAUPqCoyMzve33u6ZkW1qnDT3snPon1uzD7CG3W_-Khr8lqsTydm9JzXWxMIC7uWzQerq5Q1/s1600/log+cabin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fullnote log cabin</td></tr>
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But we had our log cabin. It had a living area with a tiny kitchen in a corner (even a piano), a loft with tatami sleeping area and a basement with a WC, bath and 2 bedrooms. The smell of fuel was a little too strong in the basement and I worried a little about the kids suffocating in their sleep, but apparently they survived. Breakfast was included and freshly prepared each morning in the main house where there are rooms and shared toilets and showers, as well as a live jazz bar.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8pmtmwKkKjL-QtzqHZON-FWj7oFzyRqNsIZfCGG6r3LWUvYbc1OJaDnvt8VaIfVDNbe1OiInbfe_E8DnxlaD0NLLoTZaqrWsKYIDseHBRP6WEsvv0DxvbsVXLx5pJkBrKmsC/s1600/shabu+shabu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8pmtmwKkKjL-QtzqHZON-FWj7oFzyRqNsIZfCGG6r3LWUvYbc1OJaDnvt8VaIfVDNbe1OiInbfe_E8DnxlaD0NLLoTZaqrWsKYIDseHBRP6WEsvv0DxvbsVXLx5pJkBrKmsC/s1600/shabu+shabu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shaba shabu at the pension</td></tr>
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We rented our skis from Tohsan (the pension owner) and he also took charge of our ski lift passes. You could also order dinner from him (usually weekends) and we asked for <i>shabu shabu </i>on Friday evening which was done just the way we liked it. Very gentle and kind hosts who would drive us to and from the main ski lifts, while a free shuttle service from Hanazono stops just opposite <i>Woody Note</i> which is run by Tohsan's younger brother.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpjvNnQ6xQgyZDTmNdXGNvn4nypLfGxkimPJIi8CVaFVKK7yngxFimsnh1N4jzFmCNfJfH-G2d7Q6jPj1UKdBOC_8bN4GPD-WVm2kjnprvmgJ52hvk0dV_tGc62NY0_grECPe/s1600/skiing_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMpjvNnQ6xQgyZDTmNdXGNvn4nypLfGxkimPJIi8CVaFVKK7yngxFimsnh1N4jzFmCNfJfH-G2d7Q6jPj1UKdBOC_8bN4GPD-WVm2kjnprvmgJ52hvk0dV_tGc62NY0_grECPe/s1600/skiing_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Skiing in Grand Hirafu</td></tr>
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We had lovely weather most days except for one where it rained non-stop all day. It was amazing skiing with sunshine and under blue skies, and they were not exaggerating when they mentioned powder snow because it was the most beautiful snow I've ever skied on. The French Alps do indeed offer more exciting runs and gave meaning to alpine skiing, but one skies on volcanoes here in Niseko meaning usually wide runs that are not too steep. I also love the trees dotting the mountains in Hirafu and Hanazono, hopefully I will be good enough to paint them soon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBSipvKe5mp0Zg-_EDjYfKCW2PRg_SPN0kUxXYUleekBXvsFQi3drkMaEzcyDHPfVzabtbleJ4o1TPv-gHygwEZR49cK2bb5_K1UkS8DalHat074kevHY2SolvHA_exoJtGhY/s1600/trees_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmBSipvKe5mp0Zg-_EDjYfKCW2PRg_SPN0kUxXYUleekBXvsFQi3drkMaEzcyDHPfVzabtbleJ4o1TPv-gHygwEZR49cK2bb5_K1UkS8DalHat074kevHY2SolvHA_exoJtGhY/s1600/trees_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love the trees</td></tr>
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There are 4 ski villages here and we personally feel that concentrating on just Greater Hirafu (including Hanazono) is enough for a short week. The restaurant at <i>Hanazono 308 </i>was also our favourite though it was quite expensive. The teriyaki pork don was yummy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2LYDySZIb8yhg3GHw7BED4LOHB6bN52wgyEowCbHrHS1yYEkC9UXvMmND4LtA6Z10HCdDid19WwXEFqhPnho5dtGmWNXogXOZVgISpZacsO4QqiFXzSELIun22TDw77eDKBX/s1600/Niseko+ramen_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2LYDySZIb8yhg3GHw7BED4LOHB6bN52wgyEowCbHrHS1yYEkC9UXvMmND4LtA6Z10HCdDid19WwXEFqhPnho5dtGmWNXogXOZVgISpZacsO4QqiFXzSELIun22TDw77eDKBX/s1600/Niseko+ramen_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most amazing onion rings at Niseko Ramen</td></tr>
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Food is a highlight of skiing at Niseko and it was unfortunate that so many eating places were already closed for the season when we were there. We managed to dine at <i>Niseko Ramen</i> next door on its last night open, at <i>Nihonbashi </i>in Kutchan (totally recommend) and at a few other places near our pension that were all quite good actually. I have put on 3 kgs after a week of ramen, different sweet-sauce meat-based dons, tempura, grilled fish, pizzas, fried chicken and yakitoris (because I do not eat raw fish). There is a Seico mart near our pension and we would visit it every day, lugging back choco pies, ice cream, <i>Pokki </i>sticks and soft drinks. You could hear HK tourists in the supermarket exclaiming over how cheap everything was, I guess at current exchange rates between the Yen and the HK Dollar, Japan must seem cheap to them.<br />
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I decided to take a break from skiing one day (also to give those poor guys a break as they were sick and tired of waiting for me on the runs) and explored lower Hirafu on foot. Love the architecture in the neighbourhood! Interesting combination of wood, concrete, lots of glass. Walked past the <i>onsen </i>(bath house), but the kids didn't like the idea of bathing naked with strangers (so prudish, mind you) so we didn't try it out.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaKMAg_utyrZF8kGZIPREWD2E7dw5v-HbCD4pF6KCNqqujTSLO8fvHKMDkjRy4PNDpsYivr1l0yNZZsSmcjrUS3p5kscAfvs94hhwecnqCa33IRLdX0RlB7p21RrBRbuwCNGa/s1600/lower+hirafu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPaKMAg_utyrZF8kGZIPREWD2E7dw5v-HbCD4pF6KCNqqujTSLO8fvHKMDkjRy4PNDpsYivr1l0yNZZsSmcjrUS3p5kscAfvs94hhwecnqCa33IRLdX0RlB7p21RrBRbuwCNGa/s1600/lower+hirafu_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exploring lower Hirafu on foot</td></tr>
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I wish we had discovered Niseko earlier. At the same time, the domains are not extensive enough for the rest of my family who are good skiers, but I certainly enjoy skiing there on that powder snow and very wide runs. There is also this dilemma about when best to go to Niseko; we enjoy skiing in late Winter/early Spring when the days are longer and there is usually sunshine, but it carries with it the risk of not enough snow. In Niseko, it also means fewer restaurants and buses and no live jazz at <a href="http://www.nisekohalfnote.com/" target="_blank">Half Note</a>.<br />
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Finally, did I mention the heated toilet seats and integrated bidets almost everywhere in Niseko? Love it, such a clean and civilised country! Only at New Chitose airport were we reminded that we would be returning to China - starting at the check-in queue. Chinese family behind us literally stuck themselves onto our backs (instead of standing behind in the queue) when we were at the counter, and were complaining loudly when they were not served the minute the next counter was free (what was the point of sticking themselves to us actually when the queue was for 2 counters?)<br />
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<i>Sayonara, Hokkaido, till the next time!</i></div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-11078385113407109432015-04-15T11:30:00.001+02:002015-05-03T14:40:29.707+02:00A day on Pulau Ubin and Chek Jawa (August 2014)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3F0_y-yfftNmU7KO4ek5Oa2n_ki_URgOKYZQHGIahq04_qcKiuAWB0Vse9lMhxb4PIVuHJU0SmnX1ch_w-fjmFL-_-_58tZBxxD0Yu1S9BjTyVJvHG91oUpsQGnUhnU8qJtr/s1600/Ubin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE3F0_y-yfftNmU7KO4ek5Oa2n_ki_URgOKYZQHGIahq04_qcKiuAWB0Vse9lMhxb4PIVuHJU0SmnX1ch_w-fjmFL-_-_58tZBxxD0Yu1S9BjTyVJvHG91oUpsQGnUhnU8qJtr/s1600/Ubin.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pulau Ubin, Singapore</td></tr>
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One positive thing about being an Overseas Singaporean is the pleasure I discover playing tourist in my own country each time I return home. When I was a teenager, I thought that it would be really cool to travel around the world and stay on my own. I still think it great, but I also look forward to seeing my parents in our old flat and getting back into "the routine" once I'm back on the island. Just thinking about this makes me homesick and with age the feeling intensifies.</div>
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Singapore is both a concrete jungle and a garden city. It is both a modern city and a place steeped in traditions practised by those who occupy its heartlands. I have learnt over the years to look beyond the facades of modernity into the true Singapore where new and old, east and west merge or co-exist in various degrees. We really do have the best of many worlds.<br />
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Last August, I finally brought my family of 5 to <b>Pulau Ubin</b>. The last time I visited was probably back in the 1990s when I was an Elderly Befriender volunteer with the Ang Mo Kio Social Service Centre. Us volunteers occasionally received training from the social workers and we also had bonding trips to help us remain more coherent as a group (consisting of people from very diverse backgrounds and ages as it was).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3Xkc_Ecc7UZs0bG7t9-aL_SdXXIdhbULAtxigz4Duj86pqYoFdk8QwIHqAM6bLQZ_pyHf0PPcFnSYaORCHVQYZWb0v8DpS9DZ4njAx5jDOUN3iHr5AA3u2TyhysWPgXUiMwB/s1600/Ubin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW3Xkc_Ecc7UZs0bG7t9-aL_SdXXIdhbULAtxigz4Duj86pqYoFdk8QwIHqAM6bLQZ_pyHf0PPcFnSYaORCHVQYZWb0v8DpS9DZ4njAx5jDOUN3iHr5AA3u2TyhysWPgXUiMwB/s1600/Ubin_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Changi Point to Pulau Ubin jetty</td></tr>
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Today, <b>Pulau Ubin (Granite Island) </b>probably has one of the last kampongs left in Singapore. Heard that only 38 people lived on the 10km2 island in 2012, from the few thousand back in the 1960s. We took a bumboat from Changi Point Ferry Terminal one morning after it had 12 passengers onboard.<br />
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Hub loved the island - the laid-back, old Singapore feel, the greenery, mud tracks, wooden houses...It was almost like stepping back into time, into another world. And it's so cool because it's so near to modern Singapore.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsSRJnQ8bLsgJU-tDDhexrOqR1dI1ntuniRsdPgkNwWmXMDAAuI2HPwKtOKqJ2aNJd2TxyzAofRGRd8wGIHCLyoQpcGQdI8qZXG297WsS-eaEIfnsvq7hcGwwrVOiRfdVk-I5/s1600/village_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEsSRJnQ8bLsgJU-tDDhexrOqR1dI1ntuniRsdPgkNwWmXMDAAuI2HPwKtOKqJ2aNJd2TxyzAofRGRd8wGIHCLyoQpcGQdI8qZXG297WsS-eaEIfnsvq7hcGwwrVOiRfdVk-I5/s1600/village_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Village</td></tr>
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Make a quick visit to the public toilets near the jetty before you set out to explore the island unless you fancy doing it out in the nature with possible visits from gigantic monitor lizards while you are at it. We came across one as we were cycling and it was impressive how it hit a van (with its powerful tail) which was parked next to it (the driver stopped to take a picture of said lizard). It was scary and fascinating at the same time. There was also a family of wild pigs near Chek Jawa that residents seemed to be familiar with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-aMzDQQAp-JJbpzwPyq3G-VoBNO_SPiTLtrxUvHzysUs3YWS_yIPxf2FINilXFh0IhNIZ_OSsn_GMgf31iDz4gFKZQjLiUqYxnkBIZ3zmzFNxKPbaVxxZEDgItEfwNA88KTD/s1600/wildlife_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT-aMzDQQAp-JJbpzwPyq3G-VoBNO_SPiTLtrxUvHzysUs3YWS_yIPxf2FINilXFh0IhNIZ_OSsn_GMgf31iDz4gFKZQjLiUqYxnkBIZ3zmzFNxKPbaVxxZEDgItEfwNA88KTD/s1600/wildlife_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the wild residents</td></tr>
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Before we rented our bikes (easy to do so from any of the several shops lining the main street of the main village), we visited a vegetable garden (with deadly mosquitoes, so do come equipped with long sleeves and pants or powerful creams) and walked through the village. The bikes had seen better days, but what the heck, it's all part of the rustic nature of the island, besides they were not expensive to rent. A couple of cyclists have lost on their lives on "cemetery road" while going downhill or engaging abrupt ends so do consider hiring a helmet too.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeUqTbZwbG6Wbj850sOdzlp3SkhJxz2A9FIFWYJ5Af7gHgjnqCjIgZVGBQFL2lQDB_KwcBpzOWDtM8c3wqVHXTDtzz3V1fS_lqGJ9nGq8HTcF8M794Xb5IrNecQbXsy5ybdug/s1600/inland_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifeUqTbZwbG6Wbj850sOdzlp3SkhJxz2A9FIFWYJ5Af7gHgjnqCjIgZVGBQFL2lQDB_KwcBpzOWDtM8c3wqVHXTDtzz3V1fS_lqGJ9nGq8HTcF8M794Xb5IrNecQbXsy5ybdug/s1600/inland_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quarry lakes and wooden houses</td></tr>
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We discovered that Ubin has a world-class <i>Ketam mountain biking trail</i>, and saw a couple of guys with special bikes going on it. It poured at some point when we were on the island and we took shelter in one of the various shelters along the tracks. Fortunately, rain doesn't usually last long in Singapore, you get a shower and then life continues.<br />
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The island is very green and the quarry lakes are beautiful. We didn't go on any guided tour because the timing wasn't right, but do check out the NParks website for guided walks or visits on the island.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJE6FicsA_kcLcRZ2BzMdPdq54tgP6_N2g8UMY8-QIbu3vP9FVhyDjvyHXMLnijvEEN1oNbjCS4rF1FECBakzCpFJ_jIug-FG8FDtYvKsE4S2aTkZZxBALu9jsPfQgJ4BNOYB/s1600/mangrove_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHJE6FicsA_kcLcRZ2BzMdPdq54tgP6_N2g8UMY8-QIbu3vP9FVhyDjvyHXMLnijvEEN1oNbjCS4rF1FECBakzCpFJ_jIug-FG8FDtYvKsE4S2aTkZZxBALu9jsPfQgJ4BNOYB/s1600/mangrove_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chek Jawa</td></tr>
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We did visit Chek Jawa though. There is a boardwalk (through mangroves and the coastline) that is open daily from 8:30am to 6pm and you leave your bikes in a parking area near its entrance. We also climbed up the Jejawi Tower for a view of the canopy and surrounding islands. I loved the viewing jetty in the sea, felt just so calm and peaceful.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRojtjA6zNjVzRT0xEus-Ym6zq2J5BZYDtgD0M4bFcGwd8AtwW4nYK4KJ9obmfM1SAFarV6CJ3cRXBx5p7A9e8GEAm19gK4J9kUmeq3bZ8M6QhsmLwjcVIlqaC0D7SGsm2Q9Gn/s1600/canopy_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRojtjA6zNjVzRT0xEus-Ym6zq2J5BZYDtgD0M4bFcGwd8AtwW4nYK4KJ9obmfM1SAFarV6CJ3cRXBx5p7A9e8GEAm19gK4J9kUmeq3bZ8M6QhsmLwjcVIlqaC0D7SGsm2Q9Gn/s1600/canopy_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of the canopy</td></tr>
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Before leaving the island, those who love seafood could dine in the village. We didn't since the younger kids do not eat seafood, but I heard the food there was quite good.<br />
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On certain Sundays, I believe that a Malay cooking class is held in one of the wooden houses, maybe I'll return one of these days for the experience. I've never lived in a kampong before, having started out my life in a 3-room HDB flat in Toa Payoh.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLf_IXB-K8cI9E3K4cRDoYFW-745FKjwiM1VfmIGiupVXJGEBHk4Ebot3R96oFGMRjfvX-3XS4K4di3JJJcNPAcnzKPAyB8HfmWO_iLIUW8S8h0j3UJSi2P_KbQ-Cx2szL36jD/s1600/arrival_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLf_IXB-K8cI9E3K4cRDoYFW-745FKjwiM1VfmIGiupVXJGEBHk4Ebot3R96oFGMRjfvX-3XS4K4di3JJJcNPAcnzKPAyB8HfmWO_iLIUW8S8h0j3UJSi2P_KbQ-Cx2szL36jD/s1600/arrival_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bye bye Ubin!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I hope that Pulau Ubin would be allowed to remain idyllic and not too developed so that mainlanders could have somewhere to go to if they would like to take a break from city life; not to mention remember a bit of the past by.</div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-49037481105149829332015-04-03T09:07:00.003+02:002015-04-06T05:46:49.653+02:00Remembering Mr Lee Kuan Yew (1923-2015)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaxqKK64cT_Oxvo0iwW5EA88tUB5buqJoE521z8RYQ1XD_6HMzG-hyGj3yPmbCDKF-AcEYk6nZQTi4qrnvIHip8oGZloBDouJ4piLwHfLNujyTURbEahPD52P12NXajJWzB0y/s1600/IMG_7890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSaxqKK64cT_Oxvo0iwW5EA88tUB5buqJoE521z8RYQ1XD_6HMzG-hyGj3yPmbCDKF-AcEYk6nZQTi4qrnvIHip8oGZloBDouJ4piLwHfLNujyTURbEahPD52P12NXajJWzB0y/s1600/IMG_7890.JPG" height="640" width="510" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you, Mr. Lee, you will always be my hero! R.I.P.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<i><br /></i>
<i>I am who I am - because you were</i><br />
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<i>I can lift my head high and walk with my back straight - because of </i><i>you</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>I dare to dream and I dare to do - because you did</i><br />
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<i>I have the courage of my convictions - because you had them first.</i><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
No one has inspired and motivated me as much as you had, Sir. I thank you for a life of struggle, of tough decisions (and the courage it took to make them), of vision, of leadership by example and of devotion to the Nation. May you join your beloved wife in rest and in peace. </div>
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Thank you, Mr Lee Kuan Yew. </div>
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I promise to always try my best and keep the flame burning, that we do not squander all that you have built for and with us.</div>
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<i>Majullah Singapura!</i></div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-51984457287608412102015-03-11T10:18:00.001+01:002015-03-11T10:25:06.196+01:00Glutinous Rice Balls (汤圆): the last night of the Chinese Lunar New Year<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHI8yGYGJnJahx_O1TUwUjQldbfUCcCTLJUlU1Q9vqffxVBNTW62HZJSAXKDZb_S1akxKC6HEftd3oXCWeOerf5dRb9im4_jvMtmoKd-90tUmKul47Bqmez-brU87zQwGNo9I/s1600/IMG_7642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHI8yGYGJnJahx_O1TUwUjQldbfUCcCTLJUlU1Q9vqffxVBNTW62HZJSAXKDZb_S1akxKC6HEftd3oXCWeOerf5dRb9im4_jvMtmoKd-90tUmKul47Bqmez-brU87zQwGNo9I/s1600/IMG_7642.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">汤圆for元宵</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Every year, across countries in Asia where glutinous rice balls are consumed on auspicious occasions, one often reads about some kid or elderly choking to death on a ball. Yet, the asian love for all things round continues and I couldn't keep out the sound of the salesgirls promoting their glutinous rice balls in Carrefour in the week leading to the end of CNY, nor could I stop receiving (on social media) all sorts of well wishes for 元宵 - also known as the Chinese Valentine's Day.<br />
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I guess the folklore of lovers reuniting under the full moon is irresistible for the Chinese and the fact that you could play with the characters/symbols and come out with all kinds of wishes for fullness, wealth etc make it a sure hit with the superstitious. However, the occasion is not celebrated the same way everywhere in the Chinese world and the way one would eat a glutinous rice ball would also differ according to local customs or taste.<br />
<br />
I remember that when I was a kid, mum would roll her own glutinous rice balls and they would be plain, white and red, and served in a sweetened soup. Of course the Gods and ancestors would always get to try them first, but I loved them and didn't mind having the leftovers :-).<br />
<br />
Then the age of the industrially-produced frozen glutinous rice balls arrived and we would have them stuffed with sesame paste, peanuts or red bean paste. From the look of things the Chinese where I am are now at this stage because almost every person I questioned about the rice balls was not making his own. Quite a pity since we all know now that it is best to avoid consuming industrially produced food products wherever possible, plus glutinous rice balls are probably one of the easiest things to make on one's own. <br />
<br />
In Shanghai, the Chinese also eat savoury meat-filled glutinous rice balls which are not something I am used to. And according to my driver Zong, what matters to them is the filling (whether sweet or savoury) and not much attention is usually paid to the soup. In fact, they usually just serve their precious glutinous rice balls in hot water.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRfC1JO_28gpgR_u91GR7y_Vc0Rpea5MZDrqstQStsG0QzuA5GaKrqR_fe8uKFiGCD-DbhFuM9EWLE7h6M4MBmF9E0GdNTnW4jK12rXN4n63O_qN6cR_fKcGiDtOBbiSjwzKW/s1600/tangyuan_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRfC1JO_28gpgR_u91GR7y_Vc0Rpea5MZDrqstQStsG0QzuA5GaKrqR_fe8uKFiGCD-DbhFuM9EWLE7h6M4MBmF9E0GdNTnW4jK12rXN4n63O_qN6cR_fKcGiDtOBbiSjwzKW/s1600/tangyuan_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CNY 2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I will not bother to blog <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.com/search?q=glutinous+rice+balls" target="_blank">the recipe</a> since I've done so about 5 years ago. For this year's <i>yuanxiao</i>, I made 3 types of glutinous rice balls: rose and pandanus flavoured, as well as plain white balls stuffed with salted duck egg yolk. The soup was a simple brown sugar with ginger and pandanus leaves solution. If using Taikoo's ginger brown sugar, use it sparingly and combine with normal white sugar as the former is very very strong.<br />
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I made each kid eat just one glutinous rice ball for the occasion as they are not at all into it (I guess it's an acquired taste) while I gobbled down the rest. I thought it made a good occasion for teaching them about some of the Chinese customs while we are still living in China. </div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-60171070884148840662015-02-25T10:32:00.001+01:002015-04-15T11:07:43.970+02:00Three Mornings at Willing Hearts : Feeding the Needy in Singapore<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQqFykQN-Qjlr0Ulgttqs501BpgNpa7GgGg4e3_Ng2qw-TdGFnN_T5az0bQckLlsXtUIwlb8SwVn95DLNn6Kr05N6ZPuFtm0KAM_XJ7kZRFSNYTQyMofoE497BhDiacPzZNIH/s1600/WH6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUQqFykQN-Qjlr0Ulgttqs501BpgNpa7GgGg4e3_Ng2qw-TdGFnN_T5az0bQckLlsXtUIwlb8SwVn95DLNn6Kr05N6ZPuFtm0KAM_XJ7kZRFSNYTQyMofoE497BhDiacPzZNIH/s1600/WH6.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eldest Son cooking rice @Willing Hearts</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Young Adult has/had CAS (Creativity, Action, Service) obligations to fulfil as part of his IB (International Baccalaureate) Diploma and as usual was lacking behind. Mum had to come to the rescue and it was fortunate that a charity food kitchen like <b><a href="http://www.willinghearts.org.sg/" target="_blank">Willing Hearts</a> </b>exists in Singapore. Anybody is welcome to help out though they prefer volunteers to turn up before sunrise and if possible stay till at least lunch time.</div>
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Fate was kind to us because my parents' flat happened to be a short taxi ride away from the food kitchen (at Genting Lane, though they have since moved to bigger premises in Jalan Ubi). It was still tough having to wake the boy up very early during his vacation, but he was keen to clock enough charity hours for CAS so he was pretty cooperative.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2OCn4zeF1RGKzBBJhyA7gRcSWsy472KNgmrUzRO2Uym4dc9VR5MA4DF7JVEZa5QW1FsH5QAc16-IcrxfZ5feoI0_1oxq3UqKcausLPzGWXqqXhdrZh85OIjDBGYWUCPaslKK/s1600/WH_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-2OCn4zeF1RGKzBBJhyA7gRcSWsy472KNgmrUzRO2Uym4dc9VR5MA4DF7JVEZa5QW1FsH5QAc16-IcrxfZ5feoI0_1oxq3UqKcausLPzGWXqqXhdrZh85OIjDBGYWUCPaslKK/s1600/WH_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Willing Hearts at 6am</td></tr>
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We arrived at the industrial building when it was still dark and quiet and I decided to stay and help out too since I have always wanted to serve in a food kitchen. I guess one is also more motivated when one knows that one would be helping one's own countrymen, especially senior citizens for whom I have a tender spot.</div>
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There were many stations at which one could choose to help out, from washing and cooking rice, to washing and preparing vegetables and meat, to cooking, packing, delivering the food etc. The YA started out cooking rice and being the dyspraxic child that he is, spent the rest of his 3 mornings there cooking rice. I started out cooking rice too, but quickly decided that I wanted to see something else and ended up helping to pack the food which was more interesting because it was different depending on what they had in the pantry and who it was meant for. Needless to say I also tasted a bit of what I was packing to see what the recipients were in for. There was this fried rice with dried shrimp (from a can) that was actually quite tasty though I thought it didn't look appetising (looks can be deceiving).</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWZs4wAZcyc2wIkWTvsX-6n2jwX1d9JF9d927uDIAa3D2iYdbqueErPmS7O02CIwUCc5JBjjirPii4cuhn7H7woqKAmn7Zfqh99keMQYvzdzJXpbRf4jgX7I_1MxhihurlWHx/s1600/Rice_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWZs4wAZcyc2wIkWTvsX-6n2jwX1d9JF9d927uDIAa3D2iYdbqueErPmS7O02CIwUCc5JBjjirPii4cuhn7H7woqKAmn7Zfqh99keMQYvzdzJXpbRf4jgX7I_1MxhihurlWHx/s1600/Rice_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooking rice for thousands of people</td></tr>
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We were there from Sunday till Tuesday (in July 2014) and got to see the changing demography of the volunteers. In the week, the food kitchen could usually depend on a vibrant, efficient and fierce group of tai tais that included both locals and expats. They would bark out orders and move really quickly because they have been doing this almost every day for a number of years now. On weekends, there will be mainly corporate volunteers, students and working individuals who feel a need to offer occasional help. Then, there are a few people who turn up every day rain or shine, including Tony Tay the retiree who started the kitchen and an electrical engineer (in red T-shirt) who helps out every morning before he goes to work!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuszk-vWiQt1lNtr9t77XTTELbjNw6EnlJR2ubpdiOMsTnEiaQCD8_9YvB6D-NV-deiVP4yoPfz1-POze73viT_Yr4gAtse_gOLsEQrx3aEeAIaXgF26Vai5omQCloHwXFx4KO/s1600/Work_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuszk-vWiQt1lNtr9t77XTTELbjNw6EnlJR2ubpdiOMsTnEiaQCD8_9YvB6D-NV-deiVP4yoPfz1-POze73viT_Yr4gAtse_gOLsEQrx3aEeAIaXgF26Vai5omQCloHwXFx4KO/s1600/Work_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Volunteers at work; Tony the founder is the guy in dark blue T-shirt looking at his phone</td></tr>
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The thing that bothers me is that people think that there are only needy people in developing countries. There are needy people in all societies and the ones that live in relatively rich countries are often forgotten or ignored because they are not so visible. When we were there, the food kitchen was churning out meals for more than 4000 people each time, mostly for the elderly and the underprivileged, regardless of race or religion (the kitchen doesn't serve pork or lard). I heard that they now offer dental and TCM services as well in their new premises.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83MnUEXAcqXj0oILKQh5APdTkLWjNghii3QBfYUMHGC9oBS1Kra2jk4oQH-hIap8DyjRWtXGs8HGe_1xCMs_tIIoGD7cXEeLPLnsmywcmXwMOhDkNetzPvthBbTwXnMU1CNX4/s1600/end_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj83MnUEXAcqXj0oILKQh5APdTkLWjNghii3QBfYUMHGC9oBS1Kra2jk4oQH-hIap8DyjRWtXGs8HGe_1xCMs_tIIoGD7cXEeLPLnsmywcmXwMOhDkNetzPvthBbTwXnMU1CNX4/s1600/end_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was nearly lunch time when we were done!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Tony said that the YA should accompany one of their vans when they go around delivering the packed lunches and that he would surely find meaning in what he had been doing. I was certainly tempted to take him up on it if we were not already busy with other more personal obligations. The Willing Hearts would definitely be a stop for us now when we visit Singapore, CAS or no CAS. I am keen to see their new kitchen and hope that my other children will also find understanding if they had the chance to (physically) serve others less fortunate than themselves. Meanwhile, if you were hesitating about whether to help out or not, please go ahead and do it at least once. Just being commanded by the tai tai army would be an experience in itself! </div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-77280095347447249142015-02-24T12:29:00.001+01:002015-02-25T09:27:46.720+01:00Banana Bread (could have been gluten-free but wasn't)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYICfynsKQFtHl0NpJGNjw7tB6xptc3zvUkjuEPlXP6XPDiQkdrOZTk4fsPzCNzXsk7w8W54M8EtiF0fKVjMI34nS3BrwJ6u78p12-y2nw-ptEt5EY1gOX_DeHFD1HCLQYuam-/s1600/banana+bread4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYICfynsKQFtHl0NpJGNjw7tB6xptc3zvUkjuEPlXP6XPDiQkdrOZTk4fsPzCNzXsk7w8W54M8EtiF0fKVjMI34nS3BrwJ6u78p12-y2nw-ptEt5EY1gOX_DeHFD1HCLQYuam-/s1600/banana+bread4.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Banana Bread</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We went hiking in Hong Kong over the CNY holidays and left whatever food we couldn't clear out before leaving to their own fates. Among the stuff were 2 bananas that turned black on the outside, but remained surprisingly firm and white on the inside. I am no expert in bananas so I can't dissertate about why these bananas were not rotting on the inside, nor could I tell you if the race and cultivation methods had anything to do with that, but ripe bananas certainly do tend to reveal a primitive desire in me to cook or bake them.</div>
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I have baked a number of <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.tw/2010/02/petit-fleurs-banana-cake.html" target="_blank">banana cakes</a> and <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.tw/2010/04/banana-oatmeal-and-pecan-nut-brownie.html" target="_blank">brownies</a> in my life, and I am always ready to try something new. In recent times I've been reading quite a bit about the use of alternative grains in cooking and baking, and I've seen with my own eyes how ladies who couldn't eat gluten tend to be really skinny. Unfortunately I love my wheat and know that it would be torture to resist the pasta, fresh loaves and cakes, so I have been toying with the idea of reducing processed wheat flour with small amounts of alternative "healthier" flours. On this day, I found almond meal, organic chickpea (besan) and wheat flours in my pantry, so I used them. I've run out of wholemeal wheat flour, and would have loved to use it too if I had any on hand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHgSm9QWJ7W8embMyyIkLq0_hcOjvzpKh8bK_bGp2_ExVg6RxT9ttsdZNKyl1GI3vc3FcQUIVEj3vJUuEtdkYB8B4nqnjk5ffW5UyTVhuIziZuJ25xhbQu8ojdpCl1Ez5nH3M/s1600/banana+bread_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHgSm9QWJ7W8embMyyIkLq0_hcOjvzpKh8bK_bGp2_ExVg6RxT9ttsdZNKyl1GI3vc3FcQUIVEj3vJUuEtdkYB8B4nqnjk5ffW5UyTVhuIziZuJ25xhbQu8ojdpCl1Ez5nH3M/s1600/banana+bread_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
With this Year of the Goat, we started our 5th year as expats in Shanghai. This would be our longest expatriation ever in one country, and while we welcome it as the children are attending good international schools, the Hub still has lots to accomplish in his current position and I enjoy being chauffeur-driven, there are moments when I feel tired of living in this expat bubble and wished I could be somewhere where I could plant a few trees, choose my own tiles for the bathroom, build my own kitchen and meet more people who lead "normal" lives. As I do my morning walks, I often spend time renovating my own place in my head, and they come in all sizes, from tiny to moderately big though never too big as I still do not think I'll want to hire full-time domestic help.<br />
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If you have been an expat for as long as I have been, and in so many different places, you would have met all sorts of people. There are people with whom you could enjoy existentialist, metaphysical and/or XXX discussions and debates, but with most people, you will have to keep relations at the <i>how are you</i> and <i>I love you</i> levels. When I first arrived in Paris to study politics at Sciences Po, I often wondered what's with the French and their love for talk shows where they discussed and debated everything to death; then I spent a few months in Rochester, NY, where I noticed that most people looked at life in black and white, where you had to constantly put yourself in one camp or another. That horrified me, for I couldn't understand why a land of liberty could produce so many people with such limited views, and with such an overpowering sense of good versus evil when the gun is so freely wielded by people both "good" and "bad". Just as I had romantic fantasies about Arab oil sheikhs that dispersed at my first contacts with a few North Africans, I dropped my American Dream and returned to Europe, to the Brits with their sense of humour, the French for their lack of, the Germans for being there to make sure that everybody toes the line, the Italians for being such a mess but for making the best pasta and ceramics...the list goes on for the Continent is as big and diverse as it is old.<br />
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Here in Shanghai, with such a very big expat population, you amplify the contacts you have with people from all over the world. And you have what I didn't have in the other expat communities I lived in: Charity Galas and loads of charity-related events. China, I guess, has both the world's second largest number of billionaires as well as gigantic pockets of people who need help. Help that they seem not to be getting from their billionaires, nor from their government that taxes people like us 50% of our income at its source. So it's more or less left to the many warm-hearted locals, expats and international schools here to carry out year-round fundraising, combine that with the IB requiring their students to do charity as part of their learning and Diploma, and you will be doing charity in one way or another here, both directly and indirectly.<br />
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Recently, a friend reacted to a Wechat discussion a group of mums from the school were having about <i>charity overdose</i>. She posted a few thoughts on Facebook about how people who travelled a few times a year complained about donating 10 rmb here and there (e.g. during charity drives at school); that some mums complained about being solicited to help out at school while others did their part without complaining. As I have mentioned earlier, it's a friend that I like and respect, so I resisted the temptation to point out in her FB posting that what she wrote couldn't logically hold much water as there was too much hyperbole in it. How could people who could afford to travel a few times a year not want to pay 10 rmb to help out a few poor Chinese kids? <i>Surely the issue runs deeper than that</i> and if a few hundred, even thousand rmb a year could help save your soul and your conscience who wouldn't go for it willingly? Unfortunately, if you take it at such a minimised angle, it made those who <i>dared </i>to <i>complain</i> about charity drive attrition, or how our kids only look upon charity as taking money from mummy to give to the school, look really bad. Still, as I've always said to those who would listen, <i>only you yourself know what you think and have done</i>, so no problem there. Least you think I'm speaking behind her back, I will bring this up with her face to face another time.<br />
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Speaking of travel, most expats I know do travel a lot, some more comfortably than others. There are expats whose companies (usually American) offer them generous travel allowances that may pay for business class air tickets, hotel accommodation and even car rentals, there are expats whose companies only offer an annual ticket home (and if you are like us it's only for economy class) and there are others who get nothing. So 4/5 times when we travel, it's out of our own pocket, it's a choice we make that usually requires sacrifices on our part e.g. the Young Adult has nothing saved towards his college education. But even when I was earning peanuts as a young graduate I've always managed to save enough to travel each year, so it doesn't matter if I couldn't afford luxury travel, I'm happy just to continue seeing the world and experience life beyond the usual with whatever means we have at hand. And if 10rmb here and there could make me feel better about this indulgence, it wouldn't be too much to give away. If only things are so simple...<br />
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Helping out at school is another expat-related issue. Back in those days when my kids went to public schools in France, the only people you ever get to see if you should go to school were a few grandparents and nannies at the school gate (usually closed during school hours). Most mothers worked and the schools only asked you to turn up if there was an issue with your child. When our children first attended an international school in Italy, I had my first PTA contact and ended up spending almost 4 years in the school itself. <i>Certes</i>, I made great friends among the other mothers who helped out and I entered into some friction with the School Principal because of my big mouth (but since then we understand and respect each other, don't we?), but I literally lived with the school and the other expats. Arriving in Shanghai, I saw that the situation was similar, though as the schools are bigger and the population bigger too, you wouldn't get the same sense of community as you would back in Modena. I decided that discretion would be the better part of valour and kept a low profile most of the time, helping out whenever I could or felt like it, and most of the time I would turn up to help without having put my name down for it - so that nobody would remember me if they were looking for "volunteers" later on!<br />
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Besides helping out in the classrooms, parents are often required to help out in charity-related events often driven by the school, its Student Council and/or its PTA, from baking goodies for sale to organising the charity galas etc. I have given much thought in the past few years to this, but came up with no obvious resolution about my personal involvement at this moment. When I was a teenager, I spent 6 years of my life as a volunteer with the elderly in a neighbourhood social service centre. We were hands-on charity workers and had to come out with time and effort beyond time for studies or work. We had a camaraderie with our fellow volunteers and a connection with the senior citizens we worked for that money wouldn't be able to buy. It's like studying about humanitarian effort at University and learning about how just providing funds could do more harm than good. At the same time, without funds, charity effort on the ground cannot be sustained. So it's a combination of different effort at different levels; you have to admire and thank those people who, by hook or by crook, raise the funds to feed your charity labour and the fund raisers are glad that there is a good reason for them to give money for.<br />
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In Shanghai, many expat mums leave behind their jobs (at least temporarily especially for the first timers) in their own countries and arrive in an environment like the school which, I suspect, gave them a sense of belonging and purpose. I'm sure they sincerely feel compassion for the Chinese children, orphans etc they are helping to raise funds for, but looking from the angle of a former volunteer, it's relatively glamorous work attending meetings (and from what I heard, a lot of politicking and egos flying around most of the time in them), baking cupcakes, charming shops to donate prizes...But it's important to have someone do it and we should be grateful that they did what they did because they didn't have to in the first place. Then other expats could find a nice dress to wear to a gala, make a few bids in the silent auctions and send more money to a few charitable organisations. Everyone has a place in this karma-generating enterprise and we can only hope that those who really need the money and help get the majority of all of that.<br />
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Do I sound negative or positive or do you really need to figure it all so very clearly? What happened to the <b>Banana Bread</b>? I blog this recipe for my Bulgarian friend ES (still living in Modena) who asked for it and hope that she will like it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuoIvHD1WxcB22-a8f0-eVBgrZhdxK9bJeoUu1lBzE3qop3QlwP_kpT4niY1ygUADd84UqJEH8WuhGBSjHFLppUemJoTSgjT7AtlKwUFJC2uKqsSzjYSxzExvudWwfbCng07a/s1600/banana+bread3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuoIvHD1WxcB22-a8f0-eVBgrZhdxK9bJeoUu1lBzE3qop3QlwP_kpT4niY1ygUADd84UqJEH8WuhGBSjHFLppUemJoTSgjT7AtlKwUFJC2uKqsSzjYSxzExvudWwfbCng07a/s1600/banana+bread3.jpg" height="400" width="325" /></a></div>
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<b>Banana Bread :</b><br />
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1½ cup all purpose wheat flour <span style="font-size: x-small;">(could replace ½ cup with wholemeal)</span><br />
½ cup organic chickpea flour<br />
½ cup almond meal<br />
1 tsp baking soda<br />
¾ tsp salt<br />
½ tsp ground cinnamon<br />
2 ripe bananas <span style="font-size: x-small;">mashed</span><br />
½ cup brown sugar <span style="font-size: x-small;">(can also be ginger-spiced) </span><br />
½ cup olive oil <span style="font-size: x-small;">(preferably light-flavoured)</span><br />
1½ tsp pure vanilla extract<br />
½ cup water<br />
½ cup walnuts or pecan nuts <span style="font-size: x-small;">chopped and optional</span><br />
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20x10x10 cm loaf tin <span style="font-size: x-small;">oiled and floured</span><br />
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<i>The method : </i><br />
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Preheat oven to 350°F/175°C.<br />
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Mix dry ingredients (e.g. flours, baking soda, salt and cinnamon) together in a large bowl.<br />
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In another large bowl mash the bananas and combine with the sugar, olive oil and vanilla to a smooth consistency.<br />
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Slowly mix in the dry ingredients adding the water as you go along.<br />
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Stir in the chopped nuts if you are using them.<br />
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Pour into the loaf tin and bake for an hour.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVT_TJtELzq_VEcILfwFp2x6B4g36XBfYzCR-uE6exnz77AbtpjTnvp0VzcqzsyGTWWVhblhLhzRBkxFhS1YCaWKepMKSl607pg8okocAYJFzmt6mjh-ntwdP7RDIWwEtpJ3p/s1600/banana+bread7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVT_TJtELzq_VEcILfwFp2x6B4g36XBfYzCR-uE6exnz77AbtpjTnvp0VzcqzsyGTWWVhblhLhzRBkxFhS1YCaWKepMKSl607pg8okocAYJFzmt6mjh-ntwdP7RDIWwEtpJ3p/s1600/banana+bread7.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With maple syrup</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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This loaf is best eaten warm, but I enjoy heating it up slice after slice a day or 2 later and eating it with maple syrup or nutella. </div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-87055548803044261722015-02-01T10:13:00.000+01:002015-02-24T08:20:26.984+01:00Waffle (a second recipe)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZSdXd3LhKSzzSGtTnw_kFhEcCmGVShbUmJfeZGZg-TsT9nxYzyJ7ZP3TND_nI6D8hQAQP8bdMwJBDV1Q7sxDG34GCkuEzqdocyFd-lpjFDGynH0t14T_v8qHLMmqT2CKNBmt/s1600/waffle3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ZSdXd3LhKSzzSGtTnw_kFhEcCmGVShbUmJfeZGZg-TsT9nxYzyJ7ZP3TND_nI6D8hQAQP8bdMwJBDV1Q7sxDG34GCkuEzqdocyFd-lpjFDGynH0t14T_v8qHLMmqT2CKNBmt/s1600/waffle3.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waffles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I have a <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.tw/2010/08/waffles.html" target="_blank">yeast-based waffle recipe</a> in my archives that dates back to 2010. It's pretty classic except that it requires quite a bit of sitting time and there are days when I may be in a bit of a hurry. That's when a baking powder-based waffle recipe comes in handy, especially on this day when, in exchange for a few stingy kisses from my hormone-fired female teenager, I had to prepare a round of waffles for breakfast.<br />
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I also used a different iron for these waffles, giving them deeper indents which allow them to collect more sugar, honey or maple syrup.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisjA7H8TFQ7NfNh2y3Dn9wKXgoBhtLGCtAV1cByMhAHdWC6DITzc54npRgJz-7VNozMqxz4gsuu7hVeL-k76byIHRU-d645NiDW6BnuXUXXtcbufOa33Kjbn7Tw_my2gPTtog/s1600/waffle4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisjA7H8TFQ7NfNh2y3Dn9wKXgoBhtLGCtAV1cByMhAHdWC6DITzc54npRgJz-7VNozMqxz4gsuu7hVeL-k76byIHRU-d645NiDW6BnuXUXXtcbufOa33Kjbn7Tw_my2gPTtog/s1600/waffle4.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
<b><u>Waffles (makes 8-10) :</u></b><br />
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300g all-purpose flour<br />
4 tsp baking powder<br />
½ tsp salt<br />
2 tsp sugar<br />
2 eggs <span style="font-size: x-small;">beaten</span><br />
125g butter <span style="font-size: x-small;">(unsalted or salted, melted)</span><br />
400ml milk<br />
1 tsp pure vanilla extract <span style="font-size: x-small;">or</span><br />
1 tbsp orange blossom water/grand marnier/rum <span style="font-size: x-small;">(optional)</span><br />
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Mix the dry ingredients together. Make a well in the middle and beat in the eggs.<br />
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Stir in the milk and mix well to get a smooth batter.<br />
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Stir in the melted butter and extra flavouring if you choose to use it.<br />
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Let the batter sit for at least 20 minutes.<br />
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Heat up your waffle iron and butter it. Pour in the batter and cook. Hub likes his waffles not too cooked while I like mine very cooked, so basically adjust the cooking time according to your taste.<br />
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The waffles are light and fluffy, though with this recipe, in terms of quantity, I can't really feed my always-hungry family of 5. I had to double the quantity in order to give everyone at least 3 waffles each.<br />
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Serve with maple syrup, icing sugar, honey, jam, ice cream, whipped cream or enjoy them plain!<br />
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-20822490450186384152015-01-29T10:37:00.003+01:002015-02-01T09:34:10.039+01:00Larb (Thai/Laotian Minced Meat Salad)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQwMjhMcSlyILoLOOsAIyQzC2UqKktvwmOT3hh5cdJr_8tlVOWT9BOqyBLtammiWhSHfGYppM7dc40dFmGFdvxO73E1FQ6SZEW-BX4TUyDS4-EFte9B7yXIDf5j506pSJQiiU/s1600/larbA.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQwMjhMcSlyILoLOOsAIyQzC2UqKktvwmOT3hh5cdJr_8tlVOWT9BOqyBLtammiWhSHfGYppM7dc40dFmGFdvxO73E1FQ6SZEW-BX4TUyDS4-EFte9B7yXIDf5j506pSJQiiU/s1600/larbA.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Larb - a portion</td></tr>
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Hub almost never travelled when he was working at Ferrari Spa. in Maranello, but Shanghai is an altogether different story. As the company in China grew under his management, his travels also increased. First it was just to Wuhu (Anhui) where their first plant was located; then he started going to Foshan (Guangdong) when he set up their second plant; then to Wuhan (Hubei) where they have started a joint-venture with the Chinese. Outside China, he flies regularly to Penang having taken over the company's Malaysian operations and a few months ago, he also started to go to Yokohama when he was given the Japan operations. Not to forget occasional trips to Europe to either Stuttgart or Milan for meetings with HQ.</div>
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Life is busy and I imagine, stressful. Fortunately, after a learning stint at INSEAD in Singapore last March, he came back not only a better business leader, but also a man more determined to keep healthy knowing that his current lifestyle is not the most ideal. He started working out regularly and eating better, insisting that I prepare salads and make sure that we have fruit at home. For many households that would be normal fare, but I'm not fond of fruit and vegetables so my WW3 pantry had lots of food but nothing too green or leafy.</div>
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I'm now really fat because since Hub is often away, I could continue eating whatever rubbish I fancy. But I do make an effort when he is home for dinner. Since he currently has a thing for cabbage (for its calorie-burning qualities), I made him <b>Larb</b> last evening when he flew back from a 3-day trip to Foshan.</div>
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Larb is a salad sometimes served in Thai restaurants and I was told that it is popular in the north of the country near Laos. In fact, it is actually more of a Laotian dish, but you will agree that there are more Thai than Laotian restaurants outside the region.</div>
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Basically it is minced meat (e.g. pork, beef, chicken, duck) served with fresh herbs and dressed in a fish sauce, lime juice dressing. And eaten wrapped in cabbage leaves. Very often I would find raw French beans on the plate as well, but I dislike this vegetable raw so you wouldn't find it in my version of Larb.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvp6bzhb8c0SSE2tqUBxfX6tQENsvOYa_5pOjkmO6I5kiscAu9eD-PIRt6Ln__JcoCZvzZvbM627_d8-0oWJf5-kSyUByCtuUGh5EbdJC8fXYMgfTpXtwouNbjNUWbnO3oLBh/s1600/larbC.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEvp6bzhb8c0SSE2tqUBxfX6tQENsvOYa_5pOjkmO6I5kiscAu9eD-PIRt6Ln__JcoCZvzZvbM627_d8-0oWJf5-kSyUByCtuUGh5EbdJC8fXYMgfTpXtwouNbjNUWbnO3oLBh/s1600/larbC.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<b><u>Larb :</u></b></div>
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<i>The meat filling :</i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2 tbsp light olive oil or vegetable oil</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
400g fresh ground pork, beef or chicken</div>
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2 tbsp onions <span style="font-size: x-small;">chopped</span></div>
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3 cloves garlic <span style="font-size: x-small;">chopped</span></div>
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half a stalk of lemongrass <span style="font-size: x-small;">bashed</span></div>
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red chilli <span style="font-size: x-small;">sliced</span></div>
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1 tbsp sugar</div>
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2 tbsp light soy sauce</div>
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1 tbsp fish sauce</div>
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pepper <span style="font-size: x-small;">to taste</span></div>
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<i>The dressing :</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2 tbsp sugar</div>
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3 tbsp hot water</div>
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red chilli <span style="font-size: x-small;">sliced</span></div>
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1 kaffir lime leaf <span style="font-size: x-small;">shredded</span></div>
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half a stalk of lemongrass <span style="font-size: x-small;">bashed</span></div>
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2 tbsp fish sauce</div>
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juice of 1 lemon or 2 large limes</div>
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<i>The garnishing :</i></div>
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2 shallots or half a small red onion <span style="font-size: x-small;">finely sliced</span></div>
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a handful of fresh basil, mint and coriander leaves <span style="font-size: x-small;">chopped</span></div>
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cabbage leaves</div>
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<i>Method :</i></div>
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Wash your cabbage (you can use iceberg if you prefer your leaves tender and crisp, but the normal cabbage holds the meat and sauce better) and decorate a serving plate with it.</div>
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Wash, drain and chop the fresh herbs and set aside in a bowl.</div>
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Slice the shallots or red onions, set aside.</div>
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Prepare the dressing by dissolving the sugar in hot water and infusing the solution with the lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf and chilli. Add fish sauce and lime juice and chill in the fridge for at least 30 minutes (more for the taste than for the temperature).</div>
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In a frying pan, add 2-3 tablespoons of vegetable oil (I have an almost odourless light olive oil so I used it) and fry the onions, garlic and lemongrass till fragrant. Add the chilli and sugar and let it cook for a little while before adding the minced meat. I used organic black pig (pork) for this dish. </div>
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Stir fry to mix well and when the meat is almost cooked through, stir in the fish sauce and soy sauce. Add pepper to taste. </div>
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When the meat is cooked (beef could be eaten rare but not chicken or pork), turn off the heat. Add the raw shallots/red onions and the chopped fresh herbs. Mix well and then stir in the dressing.</div>
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Larb can be eaten warm or chilled. Scoop some of the meat onto a cabbage leaf and enjoy.</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-57788143732844965482015-01-26T10:23:00.001+01:002015-04-15T15:28:31.112+02:00Wuzhen (乌镇) with the Parents<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and mum in Wuzhen</td></tr>
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I wonder sometimes if the parents regretted our growing up. Because, on those evenings when I hugged my youngest child as he slept next to me (which he does when Hub is away), I always wished that I could immortalise the moment in time and not let it slip away. But of course, children grow up and we should be thankful that they do so, only I couldn't stop myself feeling sad that soon I will have no more babies to hug and kiss, nor will I have anyone calling me "mummy" in the cutest of voices followed by the tenderest of hugs.<br />
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This, I guess, is middle age. Your babies are growing up really quickly and your parents are visibly ageing and exhibiting various health hiccups. It is not exactly the most gay period in a person's life, yet at the same time, if you have played your cards right, you should be most comfortable in your 40s in both material and mobility.<br />
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<i>I love you all, my Babies, and I hope that you will never have cause to doubt or forget this in your lives. </i>Just like I know that my parents love me and I am thankful for that.<br />
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The parents came for a short visit last October. I last saw them in Singapore in July and August, but we were so often out of the house doing some activity or traveling around the region that I felt frustrated about not seeing them as much as I would have liked to. Therefore I invited them to come stay 11 days with me in Shanghai, so that I may bring them out a little, cook for them, be with them.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wuzhen when you arrive by boat and a map of the town</td></tr>
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Mum's bow legs seemed to be getting from bad to worse. Climbing and walking long distances were definitely out of the question, and it was fortunate we did the bulk of our Shanghai sights 3 years ago when they first came to visit, and this time I have 2 drivers so we always had someone to drive us around. With the kids at school, we had to look for a trip that could be done in the day which would be interesting enough for everyone. Mum had already visited Zhujiajiao, Suzhou and <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.tw/2012/07/qibao-old-town-shanghai.html" target="_blank">Qibao</a>, while I last brought MIL to Tongli near Suzhou, so we were more or less left with Wuzhen which is near enough to Shanghai.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wuzhen by day</td></tr>
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I've always wanted to visit <b>Wuzhen (乌镇) </b>and when mum said that she would like to do so too, I got Driver Ju to drive us there. Ideally, one should spend the night as Wuzhen is divided into 2 sections that are a small distance (about 1km) away from each other, with one section that is smaller but older and the other larger, newer and cleaner - hence there would be quite a bit to visit and discover. But we had to return home to the children and dad was going to go on a short trip to the South the day after to visit his relatives.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many stone bridges</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRivky0oSvq2GtVQbIAHfznCU0DO3EYh7uynipRD9raRTjyqjLSrXA474oNSiMI-uBhAuT-8W7ZxDovOXRIboWEL04B5XZ0PblpdgJ5kSfqnp0t4cZeirEoUnHIWz5xVA8FtbV/s1600/doorway_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRivky0oSvq2GtVQbIAHfznCU0DO3EYh7uynipRD9raRTjyqjLSrXA474oNSiMI-uBhAuT-8W7ZxDovOXRIboWEL04B5XZ0PblpdgJ5kSfqnp0t4cZeirEoUnHIWz5xVA8FtbV/s1600/doorway_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty covered wooden bridges and grand stone doors</td></tr>
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We chose to do the bigger and newer part of Wuzhen. It was clean, organised, with only <i>one</i> smelly tofu stall (at least we only saw one). Once you enter the walled village/town, you could choose to get on a boat that will bring you across to the main part of the sights and from there you navigate between lanes and bridges, duck in and out of courtyards, shops, eateries, museums...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice wood and stone work and very clean too</td></tr>
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I found the old water village really pretty. We were lucky to be there when there were few tourists and the weather was nice which made the outing very pleasant. We made our way slowly around (often with dad looking out for mum and holding her elbow etc), buying little snacks to share and taste, and lunch was in a small restaurant specialising in healthy cuisine that was part of the Wuzhen Clubhouse. Thinking about this I get all emotional because I really miss my parents, 19 years make up a long time to be away from home and the family...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Streets, library/bookstore, courtyards</td></tr>
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Wuzhen is part of Tongxiang in Zhejiang Province, about 2 hours by car from Shanghai. It is divided into sections where different crafts and trades are displayed, and is known for its stone pathways, stone bridges and wooden carvings. The restaurants that were situated along the canal were tempting as the idea of lunching with a view of the water, old houses and bridges was enticing, but healthy should be more important when you have 2 senior citizens and the only "health" restaurant around was smack in the middle of 2 lanes.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The healthy lunch at the Wuzhen Club restaurant</td></tr>
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When I visited the tiny shoe (for bound feet) museum alone, mum spent her time trying on cloth shoes (normal sized, of course) as dad glared at her from the side wondering if she was about to make another "unnecessary" purchase. It was quite funny catching this scene as I walked out of the museum, and I had to employ quite a bit of diplomacy to diffuse the situation and make both sides happy. Well, mum couldn't find the colour she wanted in her size and I knew of another shop (in Wuzhen itself) that sold the same shoes for half the price (online), so I told mum she would get what she wanted when we return home and in the meantime we should just move on. (Thank goodness we managed as promised the next day!)</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5ypxj9zGLaSMYKm_kWd0_sNTWLrNEBkDqRQJ-GioxVAtxAMe8a_Uxjm4boR4bFJTiABm3OKrGAbYmgPpGTUZdYmtWd9Fe0lrhTwggjncZoDvLt4Misq7KOYo-heH0oH4qpME/s1600/shoes_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5ypxj9zGLaSMYKm_kWd0_sNTWLrNEBkDqRQJ-GioxVAtxAMe8a_Uxjm4boR4bFJTiABm3OKrGAbYmgPpGTUZdYmtWd9Fe0lrhTwggjncZoDvLt4Misq7KOYo-heH0oH4qpME/s1600/shoes_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cloth shoes shop outside the lily shoes museum; mum with her new cloth shoes</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People dining by the water</td></tr>
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There were quite a number of little inns in the bigger town (and many looked pretty charming, like in the gungfu movies). I was told by Driver Ju that it should get more crowded later on in the day as most tourists usually start with the smaller town and finish with the bigger one, eventually spending the night in the latter. I should return with the Hub and kids another day, maybe spend the night there too. I'm sure we would love the romantic feel of this ancient village at night, especially if we should manage to dine in a little restaurant by the water...(I've not given up on the idea, of course)<br />
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A number of the traditional trades were displayed in the old town, from wine making to blue cloth production, hand-sewn cloth shoes, traditional sweets etc. One of the things about being middle aged is that I have lost my penchant for buying souvenirs everywhere I go; when you have spent a few decades accumulating souvenirs that you have nowhere (else) to store/display and that you will most probably have no use for whatsoever once you've acquired them, you learn (eventually) to stop buying them. I just make sure I spend my money on decent accommodation, comfortable and safe means of transportation, good food, interesting experiences and a good guidebook when I travel nowadays.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Es5jr27WBylxRHEos0N6yHvfDHGaxWfuC8lh3WOkJqTZaU_gAuxjFHtygMrgaJPUc18g05ApYGVwcvME9i27K01NyxFuSUyK_zrq_KT-p67IEFAv7EtjlL1Ipxz9_FVB-jkv/s1600/trade_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Es5jr27WBylxRHEos0N6yHvfDHGaxWfuC8lh3WOkJqTZaU_gAuxjFHtygMrgaJPUc18g05ApYGVwcvME9i27K01NyxFuSUyK_zrq_KT-p67IEFAv7EtjlL1Ipxz9_FVB-jkv/s1600/trade_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue cloth maker, rice cake seller, soy sauce shop</td></tr>
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I have also stopped buying gifts to distribute to friends, family and neighbours. It is futile spending precious time trying to hunt down a suitable gift for everyone when the goal is to visit. Besides, most people travel quite a lot nowadays so there is no need to share (or show off) your trips like before. Parents were of course from another era, and you could see that they really needed to buy something (usually edible) to bring back; it reminded me of the time we travelled to Perth when I was 12 and dad literally filled up a suitcase with Cadbury chocolate to bring back to everyone else who couldn't go on the trip. I myself brought back huge boxes of Turkish <i>lokum</i> to share with my 140 colleagues in MND HQ back in 1995, and that seemed like light years away now.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmlWNlfBGlK1CcTgNBFhY7UiKISvn_1DWFdHxX3BYE9LMrJCsgiBNcwwN0sxFZkPYx-DS_n5-wqTTkPNRGvkaWkUKhxmMNggwLTyM9g9XLwgCl4lzAXu2tld-GVOmZwtx1aTM/s1600/wuzhen2_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjmlWNlfBGlK1CcTgNBFhY7UiKISvn_1DWFdHxX3BYE9LMrJCsgiBNcwwN0sxFZkPYx-DS_n5-wqTTkPNRGvkaWkUKhxmMNggwLTyM9g9XLwgCl4lzAXu2tld-GVOmZwtx1aTM/s1600/wuzhen2_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By the water</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJsy5nAwC4Eno9tj4X7xVHYA26E_w7sQUHIW8tpfv-gA49O0vsE2qbR_YhjV0V5YEscpRDSXiYgtlVYNIuIEJXgA6EIsdvNQG9R0RzYhhkDNPCPREXWUhuKszrVdGOEi7hAT6X/s1600/wuzhen42.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJsy5nAwC4Eno9tj4X7xVHYA26E_w7sQUHIW8tpfv-gA49O0vsE2qbR_YhjV0V5YEscpRDSXiYgtlVYNIuIEJXgA6EIsdvNQG9R0RzYhhkDNPCPREXWUhuKszrVdGOEi7hAT6X/s1600/wuzhen42.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>There are so many more places near Shanghai, not to mention in China, that I have not visited because we are so afraid of the crowds. It is a pity, of course, but unless you haven't heard of or been in one of those notorious crushes, you wouldn't be so foolish as to brave going anywhere when the Chinese themselves are on holiday. Paralysis is personified on those occasions and wave of humanity has true meaning then. OK, maybe I exaggerate, and I am definitely making excuses for not having visited much of China. Maybe in 2015 and 2016 I will plan more short trips on long weekends: Beijing, Nanjing, Lijiang, Jiuzhaigou, Chengdu...?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhLBqlhSKK_C61M3jQTRj6pg8WJi9aoXfvTHyID7DZSDJ1UZ0KPVI0tvI1fNpOea1uKh-tlAqSrGVx5yIVax1XD8JPUTAKFP1XgdzwPxUs2V2YNRGgOWGzdxuBjkFLLLFjXvu/s1600/wuzhen46.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXhLBqlhSKK_C61M3jQTRj6pg8WJi9aoXfvTHyID7DZSDJ1UZ0KPVI0tvI1fNpOea1uKh-tlAqSrGVx5yIVax1XD8JPUTAKFP1XgdzwPxUs2V2YNRGgOWGzdxuBjkFLLLFjXvu/s1600/wuzhen46.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a>I have however noted, in the past 4 years, that the Chinese are traveling more and more both within China and out of the country. Many of my Chinese friends have husbands who used to earn 10 000 rmb a month up to about 10 years ago, after which they started seeing salary increases of between 10 and 30% annually and today the same guys are earning between 100 000 and 200 000 rmb per month! If they were based in Shanghai and had had the foresight to invest in real estate, then their wealth would have doubled, tripled and more. Even the average Chinese in Shanghai wouldn't have done too badly as I often discover. Many would have seen their old family homes bought over by property developers and given cash and/or new flats in exchange. They would earn pretty decent salaries today and since the majority would only have one child, life is usually comfortable. The old lady pulling out weeds in our garden has a son who owns 2 large cars that he rents out to foreigners and she is only working because she loves being out in the open and having something to do. And where our villas and garden stand today, her house and fields used to stand. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parents in Wuzhen (I think I look more like dad)</td></tr>
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Back to Wuzhen, it was definitely worth a visit and I hope that the parents had enjoyed it. Hopefully after Ma has had both legs operated on she would be able to walk better and we could go on other visits in the years to come.<br />
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I do not know how many more years we are going to stay in Shanghai, and therefore how much opportunity I still have to discover Northeast Asia. However, for those of you who know me, I try to make the most of my time wherever I am whether I would be there 6 months or 6 years. My only constraints are time and cash, and in these recent days, the drastic devaluation of the Euro is definitely not making things easy for us. Greece may not be the only one who needs to battle against austerity soon. </div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-64939777759153800742015-01-19T12:51:00.002+01:002015-01-21T15:10:38.920+01:00Noir: Dining in the Dark, Ho Chi Minh City<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noir - Dining in the Dark</td></tr>
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More than 6 months ago, we were asked if we (as in Hub and The Teenager) would like to take part in a friendly golf tournament in Ho Chi Minh City (HCMC) to be held just before the New Year. That was a couple of months after our trip to Hanoi (during CNY), so we were obviously quite destined for Vietnam in 2014. </div>
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My only problem with visiting Vietnam is the cost of the visas. I do not need one with my Singapore passport, but it's 440 rmb for a single entry for the Hub and the kids. Considering that each trip there lasted between 4 and 8 days, I found paying for 2 rounds of visas in the same year a little painful. </div>
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Anyway, we booked 2 rooms at the 5-star Sofitel Saigon Plaza with its famous rooftop pool and once again, it wasn't really my idea as I usually prefer boutique hotels. But the organiser of the above-mentioned golf tournament pre-paid for his rooms and informed us after, that we were expected to do the same so that we could all be together. In other words, I didn't really have a choice.</div>
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Fortunately, apart from 3 first nights of lights that refused to be switched off (my mother would tell you the room was haunted), the hotel was comfortable and well-situated, so I had no reason to complain about it. Plus, I found out that Vietnam had an interesting rule about prostitution in such hotels: a member of our group (a divorcee) came back one evening with a Vietnamese girl of questionable reputation and was discovered by the hotel manager himself who informed him that he would only be allowed to bring her in if she happened to be a guest of the hotel (which would involve paying for another room on the spot in her name). Guy, I heard, is like a sailor with certain habits at every port of call; needless to say, with all his ECAs he ended up last in the golf tournament.</div>
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Once again, I digress. I was out to blog about a restaurant we dined in in HCMC (among many others, but that will have to wait) named <b>Noir - Dining in the Dark</b>. We like to go local at different levels when we travel and while I could possibly eat <i>Pho Bo Tai </i>every day, I was also keen to try something new and dining in the dark was something I had yet to try at that time. It's not at all unique to Vietnam, but I had not been to one anywhere before.</div>
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I had expected the kids to reject the idea when I first suggested it; they were reticent, but were at the same time curious enough to want to give it a try. Our greatest problem probably is the fact that we are very picky eaters and you do not know what you are going to eat when you dine at <b>Noir</b>. Then, out of politeness, I asked our group of friends if they would like to join us and they all said <i>pourquoi pas</i>?</div>
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We arrived in a renovated old house with pretty floor tiles one evening at 8pm. With those French people's habit of having aperitif before dinner, we had to dine late every evening when we were in HCMC, not to forget eat and drink way too much. I would have preferred to eat at 7pm latest, but once again I wasn't asked my opinion.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the owners G coming out of the bar</td></tr>
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We were a group of 10. You were served cocktails (not very tasty) and asked to choose between a western and asian menu (with no idea what's going to be in it exactly). Then you had to blindfold yourself and attempt a simple game where you return to your childhood and have to match wooden objects according to their shapes and place them on a tray (see picture of the group next to us doing just that). During the meal, the food would be served in 5 containers set on a tray, this being a foretaste of what you would need to do once you are in the totally dark dining room.</div>
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<i>Totally dark</i>. It seemed that a few members of my entourage had only just realised that we were going to eat in total darkness. It wouldn't be diplomatic on my part to suggest that there was a bit of <i>panique à bord</i>, but one or two of them started to act really weird. He's one of those tall, commanding, very disciplined (military background), successful sort; he called one of the restaurant owners T over and asked if T could <i>guarantee</i> that he would not dirty his clothes during the meal...(!) </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our neighbours playing the pre-dinner game</td></tr>
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T was taken back, I guess, and didn't give a tactful enough answer and we could almost see a volcano about to erupt in front of us. Now friend said he didn't want to dine there because of T's bad attitude! Fortunately, friend's usually quiet wife decided for once that she would take things into her hands and just dragged him out of the restaurant. So we ended up 8 to dine.</div>
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You have to surrender all of your watches and mobile phones before the meal so that nothing that could produce light would be introduced into the dining room. Second friend, as we would discover later on, didn't surrender his watch and I would spend the whole evening being irritated by this light moving around opposite me. What's with these macho, strong, successful types and their weird reaction to being in total darkness? Are they afraid of not being in control?</div>
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The dining room was on the first floor and we were greeted at its entrance by 2 visually-impaired waiters. Our waiter was called Vinh and he spoke beautifully-accented and clear English and I couldn't help thinking that he must have very good hearing to have picked up such a crisp accent.</div>
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Vinh guided us to our side of the table and placed us in front of our chairs. The room was totally dark except for 4 red dots at four corners of the room. People tend to talk loudly in the dark for some reason so we could hear the other diners giggling or talking more loudly than usual as we tried to settle in.</div>
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It wasn't that difficult trying to take stock of one's space because the table setting was kept simple and we each had a glass, a fork and a spoon. I could feel both edges of my table so I knew it wasn't big and that if I kept feeling my way inwards from the sides I'll be able to find my cutlery etc. Personally, I felt quite liberated at the initial loss of my sight; I felt light, at one with my universe. </div>
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When you cannot see, it's important to listen more and I wished my fellow diners could be calmer. Unfortunately, one was cold and kept screaming for the aircon to be switched off, another had a watch shining through the meal and Baby Girl played the zombie and refused to use her hands to find anything or eat anything (so I ate up her entire western dinner on top of my asian one!). The Teenager (actually since October last year he's an adult, so we will call him <i>The Young Adult</i> after these words) was surprisingly calm and compliant, eating his dinner quietly and joining in the talk with a few jokes here and there, while Baby Boy talked too loudly, but managed to try a bit of the food in front of him after Vinh assured him that <i>it wasn't fish</i>. Hub started to criticise the food, <i>do you think it's gourmet? Don't you think it's too cold? Sight is really very important in food appreciation</i>...</div>
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Sight is indeed very important in food appreciation, which is why Japanese food is very much appreciated and admired. Taste probably starts with our eyes, followed by smell (which somehow wasn't pronounced during the meal), by the actual tasting and in this case, if I may say so, by touch; because I stopped trying to use my cutlery, preferring to feel my food before I ate it and I found that it worked quite well.</div>
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One fear I had though was the possibility of everyone around me crashing their glasses and spilling their drinks on me. I had no idea why they were always loudly trying to find their glasses when the glass wasn't normally going to move elsewhere if you've put it back on your right above the cutlery. My lemongrass soda was delicious, by the way.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The reception hall</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">At the end of our dinner, Vinh guided us out of the dining room, warning us to keep our eyes on the ground so as not to be disoriented when we see light again. I must say that at this point, I was happy to leave the darkness as it was starting to be very tiring keeping the eyes open in the dark, in fact, it would be advisable to shut them from time to time in order to rest them.</span></div>
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I was also feeling sad, thinking that while we would be able to welcome light into our lives again, Vinh and his colleagues would remain in the dark.</div>
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As I had suspected, our chairs were acrylic (Philippe Starck to be exact) and our tables square and not very big. The 8 of us were sitting in 2 rows of 4 facing each other. G showed us what our meal looked like on an iPad, and we probably only guessed half of what we ate right. Everyone agreed that it was an experience to try at least once in our lives, though probably not too often as we do prefer to be able to see what we are eating. Finally, I wouldn't advise eating in the dark for a large group. With no other distractions around, it's a good opportunity to go all philosophical on your partner or kids, or at least become a better listener than usual. It was trying trying to get everyone to speak in turns or figuring out who said what from where etc.</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-80701500478819855422014-12-22T17:21:00.000+01:002015-01-21T15:01:42.933+01:00Hong Kong with Younger Sister (September 2014)<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hong Kong Island seen from Avenue of the Stars (Kowloon)</td></tr>
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I mentioned somewhere that I've travelled quite a bit in the past few months. Not as much as Hub for work, nor as much as this Singaporean GF of another friend who apparently travels to Singapore every month just for a hair cut.</div>
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One memorable trip I made recently was with my younger sister D in September. We are Lotus and Phoenix, with 4 years between us. I think we sometimes fail to realise how time truly flies, and how we tend to procrastinate in so many ways, not just in things we have to do physically. Though I try to return to Singapore every one to two years, D and I have not seen each other much in the last 19 years and before you know it, we are fat <i>Obasans</i> with a number of kids each in tow.</div>
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The idea was to meet up somewhere for a quick getaway: away from our daily chores, endless duties and routines, away from the grumpy Hubs, the demanding, ungrateful kids and in her case, the <i>cook-the-same-food-everyday</i> FIL.</div>
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No, we didn't go to HK to shop. When you have as many kids as we do to feed and educate, shopping is no longer a priority. And when you have husbands who are ready to pounce on yet another "unnecessary" purchase, you prefer to indulge in stuff that you can ingest and digest quickly leaving minimum evidence behind for scrutiny. When you are already padded like us, a few extra kilos at the end of a short trip wouldn't make much of a difference either (<i>there, I caught your thought!</i>). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wanchai on HK Island</td></tr>
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And of course, the idea really was to spend some precious time together, to catch up and bond. We used to share a room when we were kids and often talked through the night. I guess we didn't imagine then that all that would become just a part of our memories and no longer part of our lives once we leave home.<br />
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We met at the airport in HK and stayed at the OZO WESLEY in vibrant <b><i>Wanchai</i></b>. The boutique hotel was renovated in 2013, the room was simple and modern. Hotel lobby smelled of detergent most of the time though which I found disturbing as we all know it could be cancerous. Conveniently located between Admiralty and Wanchai with a tram stop just in front.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVhMRH94x1C2wGNU7zujEtUDCOcxdOAce6CBNIlAlJq_oIQM9sduRLQh01GqgTz7v96BWzPiL8RKBc6tDukKtngl5jQRYW5HUTIAsKGxiQLiKJR70S3UDKDoqrgK0M6WApKHg/s1600/Ozo_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMVhMRH94x1C2wGNU7zujEtUDCOcxdOAce6CBNIlAlJq_oIQM9sduRLQh01GqgTz7v96BWzPiL8RKBc6tDukKtngl5jQRYW5HUTIAsKGxiQLiKJR70S3UDKDoqrgK0M6WApKHg/s1600/Ozo_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our room at Ozo Wesley, Wanchai</td></tr>
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We took the Star Ferry from Wanchai Pier and crossed the sea to <b><i>Tsim Sha Tsui</i></b>. Took in the usual sights (The Peninsular Hotel etc) and then found our way to the <b><i>Avenue of the Stars</i></b>. OK, this stretch of walkway on the sea front is fairly kitsch and was filled with Chinese tourists who took pictures of themselves with anything that was standing and which could be used as a background. And if the floor was filled with hand prints of HK Stars (many whom we knew from our lost TV-watching youth), then they could be found almost on all fours for that important souvenir picture. Seeing that it took me months, why not years, to deal with the few photos I've taken on my trips, I wonder how they cope with the thousands of photos they must have taken on each trip, limited only by the memory of their SD cards.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_B6tbpOR5UrTD9yF_0kOtzFVJVJwazi3pTWO0v2zd0ceHoukRYU6_QoCaQTMo5gqh3mQipbJAvlR-mHygdYeVQlmZ7XlpLkkzaa0mfvzJEP8_HazsFyK34BZpFWjhphzgZwOV/s1600/AOS_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_B6tbpOR5UrTD9yF_0kOtzFVJVJwazi3pTWO0v2zd0ceHoukRYU6_QoCaQTMo5gqh3mQipbJAvlR-mHygdYeVQlmZ7XlpLkkzaa0mfvzJEP8_HazsFyK34BZpFWjhphzgZwOV/s1600/AOS_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></div>
But we were there just before sunset and it was the most beautiful moment of the day for admiring HK Island opposite. I was actually pretty awed by the colours facing me, colours reflected by the buildings as the sun started to go down. And it was always lovely breathing in the sea breeze, knowing that there would be no need to prepare dinner nor supervise the kids' homework nor hurry to make oneself charming for the Hubs.<br />
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HK like most important cities is easy to explore on foot and it is recommended that one take in the sights and smells by taking one's time to do so. The island has lots of good things to eat that one would probably discover by chance as one is wandering around. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7iuG2nzrc-yjhTw5tm3RhgLd4jjKO0hrcyb2zZhMd_bZFSv2mIRyt7bicc6wHkD-5VsqCtSIRH6vkpRGH3bnflQK8EnsiTQRpCssK-bWYr9Mhumf8Yr7sey_6rqcUXcCfsIQ/s1600/food_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG7iuG2nzrc-yjhTw5tm3RhgLd4jjKO0hrcyb2zZhMd_bZFSv2mIRyt7bicc6wHkD-5VsqCtSIRH6vkpRGH3bnflQK8EnsiTQRpCssK-bWYr9Mhumf8Yr7sey_6rqcUXcCfsIQ/s1600/food_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of our snacks, Sift has great cupcakes!</td></tr>
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We came across the famous <b><i>Mak Noodles</i></b> as we made our way to Ashley St and needless to say sat down promptly to gobble down a tiny bowl each of the springy egg noodles in its rich broth. A few steps down the street we saw a famous dessert shop and also settled down for a little something - all that before our planned dinner at <b><i>Ned Kelly's Last Stand</i></b>!<br />
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It's kind of unfathomable when you are Singaporean to make plans and not stick to them, so of course we had our dinner of burger and chips and everything's that greasy in the Australian pub run mainly by Filipinos.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBeelYGnlFZEfvwPaB5Eu0Oku1Bz9iDuoN5fr-A1rFW5syKgBF4JxOi_OGAcnkWIBvGIJbm-ETFdBaLLM905VKYv3Wy88wckeVODYs2VBWlz6w1yoZRTsFXoIM42wIxvf50X48/s1600/ned+kelly_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBeelYGnlFZEfvwPaB5Eu0Oku1Bz9iDuoN5fr-A1rFW5syKgBF4JxOi_OGAcnkWIBvGIJbm-ETFdBaLLM905VKYv3Wy88wckeVODYs2VBWlz6w1yoZRTsFXoIM42wIxvf50X48/s1600/ned+kelly_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dinner, cocktails and jazz at Ned Kelly's Last Stand</td></tr>
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The highlight of the evening starting from 9:30pm (but Happy Hour finishes at 9) is always the jazz band and I wanted D to hear them play. The English leader works as a manager in Ocean Park in the day (and he's married to a Singaporean, by the way) and sings/plays in the band most evenings. Heard he has been doing this for a few decades now.<br />
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On the evening we were there the band was pretty small, but I was told during an earlier visit that at certain times of the year they were perfectly capable of sitting 16 musicians where there were currently 6 or 7!<br />
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You don't have to pay a cover charge to hear the band play nor do you have to eat, but you have to order a few drinks, of course, in order to be able to sit in. The food is usually quite decent in the pub so I actually just make a point to dine there before the jazz.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6RxvzzYD5A3vO28Qe7I0FJ12W_AiLUHzmB7Hn7LnvsuAKvjWO8giwAU7Lvll6OGZK8gGKztlgfsE1WLg4OwQjT5q6-nEdbQAaKfFimnJoGptwyl5P4l9-MIvE3NTCo5V1vo9C/s1600/star+p_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6RxvzzYD5A3vO28Qe7I0FJ12W_AiLUHzmB7Hn7LnvsuAKvjWO8giwAU7Lvll6OGZK8gGKztlgfsE1WLg4OwQjT5q6-nEdbQAaKfFimnJoGptwyl5P4l9-MIvE3NTCo5V1vo9C/s1600/star+p_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Star Precinct in Wanchai with its little boutiques and restaurants</td></tr>
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D and I speak Cantonese so HK wasn't complicated for us, in fact I welcome the opportunity to practise the dialect as it makes me feel nostalgic for our parents' home. HK seems very modern on the one hand, and also so broken down here and there, like Singapore such a very long time ago. I like this mix very much, the way the old and the new co-exist and I also feel comfortable there because we share a British colonial past with many shared references (not to forget street/building names). However, I think they are also much more Chinese than us. The only darker-skinned folks you see around are the Indonesian and Filipino maids. And under many bridges you find old Chinese ladies hitting photos with shoes and slippers - like in that ghost movie I last watched when I was in Singapore. </div>
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The next morning my dear friend and ex-neighbour J met us in the hotel lobby and took us out for a walk and we ended up having dim sum at the famous <b><i>Maxim's</i></b> in City Hall. As usual we ate a little too much too fast, wanting to order everything we saw in the carts. I have to admit that at such a moment, I think the Hub is pretty awesome because I know that he can usually afford to pay the bill. The afternoon was spent walking around Times' Square and we ended up in a diner near our hotel for an almost home-cooked dinner that was quite delicious. We are very fond of simple meals too, you listen to the waiters banter and gossip in Cantonese and you try to remind yourself not to give them any reason to scold you.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif98kkm-aQGgUwmp45NDd8m20kU8vLM0J6q08isDwNo58OFSt98ugbayMslaZoatFNR9hx8qvlX3GYNEKCZEwVa3BI8-xrz1sxcP_0T57Z_WocIRomrmUtPZ4vELPLV_XWEzO6/s1600/maxim_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif98kkm-aQGgUwmp45NDd8m20kU8vLM0J6q08isDwNo58OFSt98ugbayMslaZoatFNR9hx8qvlX3GYNEKCZEwVa3BI8-xrz1sxcP_0T57Z_WocIRomrmUtPZ4vELPLV_XWEzO6/s1600/maxim_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With J at Maxim's, the soy bean curd with ginger syrup was divine!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBp6l0I2bb6tlm1HCaqZUNSntGZVQ7i4neR3OJDQ9uBVsEbfVMR0fQi32I0DDQu9oIPA5M7A80wpdNVLNgz3mBvlw728TRUNfjT3VF6ld4lI35DCMaKylw2s7H2gqRNj9dp4wc/s1600/diner_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBp6l0I2bb6tlm1HCaqZUNSntGZVQ7i4neR3OJDQ9uBVsEbfVMR0fQi32I0DDQu9oIPA5M7A80wpdNVLNgz3mBvlw728TRUNfjT3VF6ld4lI35DCMaKylw2s7H2gqRNj9dp4wc/s1600/diner_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Neighbourhood diner near our hotel</td></tr>
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Saturday's highlight was lunch at <b><i>L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon</i></b>. Hub insisted on inviting us to lunch there and we accepted his invitation graciously. The Head Chef had left to set up his own restaurant a few months ago and the second Chef was about to leave for Singapore MBS. The food was fine and creative as usual and we even had nice cocktails to go with it. I always make sure to request for a seat away from the entrance as I dislike having my back to the door, and this time we didn't go for the longest set menu as we were hoping to keep some space in the stomach for other stuff later in the day. Still, the meal was filling and we couldn't finish the petits fours at the end of the meal. <i>Merci, mon chéri!</i></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYkfeb_FoqZlFsoz2ig7NYlxjH59bjcQafnQMsCHbPZ98my0R-C09mZld0FzRhyphenhyphenuvCZkwzs8kZ4mz2NSFnSsRZG8kIHb_22Ji3SkC-Am_ZPYPelizN5h_In4iY2d4B1q3cx2B/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYkfeb_FoqZlFsoz2ig7NYlxjH59bjcQafnQMsCHbPZ98my0R-C09mZld0FzRhyphenhyphenuvCZkwzs8kZ4mz2NSFnSsRZG8kIHb_22Ji3SkC-Am_ZPYPelizN5h_In4iY2d4B1q3cx2B/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+A.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The CBD (love the trams)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXBcU8ewDYJ8zL4jW6sEOfb3fXiVGri55zkBU7u-U2AjaVwpFfmbM9CiX_c5lhJba-E79gHKmOntW1-7Knqrl85Q3IwzbNmIj4h5MWB4RevkWOlfd-HrA0o8Pk0UJFsb5vDUY/s1600/l'atelier_Fotor_Collage%2BA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXBcU8ewDYJ8zL4jW6sEOfb3fXiVGri55zkBU7u-U2AjaVwpFfmbM9CiX_c5lhJba-E79gHKmOntW1-7Knqrl85Q3IwzbNmIj4h5MWB4RevkWOlfd-HrA0o8Pk0UJFsb5vDUY/s1600/l'atelier_Fotor_Collage%2BA.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon, 3* Michelin in HK</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGzQhBsU3OsBhcp5Tf9VXsobaliu3uWBsxyGRY8y4khAow5MV-3vTJMqxGOYL7v9G3e6OxlwWt3Utj8ywD6PIg1WUrO4qXS2IS5HCC-mr1plpYmCpU-jM-ACl7SCIexYp2jir/s1600/l'atelier16_Fotor_Collage%2BB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGzQhBsU3OsBhcp5Tf9VXsobaliu3uWBsxyGRY8y4khAow5MV-3vTJMqxGOYL7v9G3e6OxlwWt3Utj8ywD6PIg1WUrO4qXS2IS5HCC-mr1plpYmCpU-jM-ACl7SCIexYp2jir/s1600/l'atelier16_Fotor_Collage%2BB.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The potato puree was made with ratte potatoes imported from France</td></tr>
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Needless to say it was important to walk off the calories, and I think I forced things a little too much and poor D ended up with a very inflamed ankle before the end of the day. We've taken the escalators to the <b><i>Mid Levels</i></b>, taken a look at <b><i>Lan Kwai Fong</i></b>, walked to PMQ and spent some time looking through the little boutiques there, even took in an <i>Hermes</i> exhibition that was quite amazing. They don't do things in half measures, so you get to touch the fabulous leather, admire one of their artisans at work, and dream your way through all the bags and shoes and gowns. Actually I'm still not at all quite a fan of the famous Birkin or Kelly, though I rather like their leather boots and suitcases.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rpEeJZwqBicUC3gn32_O77kOebHOuacfF-MOa2iZbrftddDI2uxptC2lBd_CTQpu2KQYSOWht5JNEI1GKP7ct9TMm_qvFfXu_tmBycmlaSl9eChei_nFlw-L8IBQNIAMZ3fM/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rpEeJZwqBicUC3gn32_O77kOebHOuacfF-MOa2iZbrftddDI2uxptC2lBd_CTQpu2KQYSOWht5JNEI1GKP7ct9TMm_qvFfXu_tmBycmlaSl9eChei_nFlw-L8IBQNIAMZ3fM/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+B.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Around the escalators leading to the Mid-Levels</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHlTCrgqe17qvDqIhCtZd1sOR0r4zd6CQRxRkqaAQ5amLLUtT0QDhuWJoXYHHMhknukNbvNbgYK7u9AYIbk9pG0uDJfSRYMT7Tf7A5RTxBUallsBHaCH4UCpBR2e16g0jduSEQ/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+C.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHlTCrgqe17qvDqIhCtZd1sOR0r4zd6CQRxRkqaAQ5amLLUtT0QDhuWJoXYHHMhknukNbvNbgYK7u9AYIbk9pG0uDJfSRYMT7Tf7A5RTxBUallsBHaCH4UCpBR2e16g0jduSEQ/s1600/HK_Fotor_Collage+C.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The red door frame was part of Man Ho Temple, <br />
looked kind of eerie from the outside</td></tr>
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The <b><i>PMQ</i></b> was apparently a new trendy spot to visit in HK when we were there. They have converted the former Police Married Quarters and Clubhouse into a market place with café. There are floors and floors of small shops and ateliers that you basically have to pop in and out in order to visit.<br />
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I am vague about the geography but I know that it's somewhere between <i>Central</i> and <i>Sheung Wan</i>, and it's also on the way to <b><i>Man Ho Temple </i></b>which is near an antiques street and the <i>Holiday Inn Express</i> I've stayed in once with Hub. I'm very fond of the Sheung Wan area though recently I read an article about it being kind of haunted because of its past, but well I guess it makes it all the more exciting as such.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkvT841n2zjQ6mkF41-8HkPzp0EQhjnIZfTzrcXtqi5SvAMk9z5iGPYzPY4zL9TLG67redm-BDmNREfdMJmJ6d8oXGV8MCVueRCoy5ZHdElK-S5yy1MCeJWmDVwqSY6uIAnnM/s1600/PMQ_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkvT841n2zjQ6mkF41-8HkPzp0EQhjnIZfTzrcXtqi5SvAMk9z5iGPYzPY4zL9TLG67redm-BDmNREfdMJmJ6d8oXGV8MCVueRCoy5ZHdElK-S5yy1MCeJWmDVwqSY6uIAnnM/s1600/PMQ_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PMQ (and one of its toilets)</td></tr>
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D was quite excited at one point when we wandered into a room and there was this doll with fat head surrounded by pink at the entrance. I have never heard of <i>Chocolate Rain </i>before that, but well, now I know. I think I've left Asia for too long a time because I don't have this Asian fondness for cute stuff. Can't believe people actually spend a fortune collecting pens, umbrellas, bags, mugs, bedsheets etc etc with this character printed on them.<br />
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We didn't buy anything at PMQ because much of the stuff was actually quite expensive and probably too original for us. A French company was selling perfumed underwear for men, for example. Releases the good stuff during contact with perspiration... </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGbGb05KYzQjKRA_a2iR0xI8-uShbPGS2NSiUoFURNWteInTnCB9MayhGiuUAh2_mnnaC_CVv4a3A3XYnJ5p_PiJaAklgMwdDqYJWOn_BCz54uzuUrKtqfyR-41eDgwnOnw01/s1600/CR_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXGbGb05KYzQjKRA_a2iR0xI8-uShbPGS2NSiUoFURNWteInTnCB9MayhGiuUAh2_mnnaC_CVv4a3A3XYnJ5p_PiJaAklgMwdDqYJWOn_BCz54uzuUrKtqfyR-41eDgwnOnw01/s1600/CR_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D is crazy about this Chocolate Rain</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrkso1tisOBiD4yxF_2Pl86qsNaBTQbiYlgBsK6_CX8pJs1VTho0qjduvPtKW1_riQS2JHb10yGiKTwJlcdHcT1R3nPtbS-5dR64wcGncREDoCckdrxmLVLr7_seVXbqivhvQ/s1600/H_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrkso1tisOBiD4yxF_2Pl86qsNaBTQbiYlgBsK6_CX8pJs1VTho0qjduvPtKW1_riQS2JHb10yGiKTwJlcdHcT1R3nPtbS-5dR64wcGncREDoCckdrxmLVLr7_seVXbqivhvQ/s1600/H_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hermes exhibition</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc4TsgVR5FFQX9ks3ZxsgGBfa0M0AnZGYEVNnZxWrJ3wNbGU6SwNrBsAmWxGCuzn6LQ19hd_wdOD_t3RrRLF_e5KJxFS1WmKKyVRrg-1jY_HJUsWtI3i1lXZwEtAUMPRrd_bg/s1600/H7_Fotor_Collage+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrc4TsgVR5FFQX9ks3ZxsgGBfa0M0AnZGYEVNnZxWrJ3wNbGU6SwNrBsAmWxGCuzn6LQ19hd_wdOD_t3RrRLF_e5KJxFS1WmKKyVRrg-1jY_HJUsWtI3i1lXZwEtAUMPRrd_bg/s1600/H7_Fotor_Collage+B.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">FOC and very well done</td></tr>
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There was a French lady showing off her stitching and I talked to her to find out about her training and career. Pretty interesting and it more or less confirmed what I found out once watching a video about Hermes during one of my plane journeys.<br />
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At the same time, what she's doing is a dying art as it costs too much to maintain this kind of standards and systems. All those major houses like Prada, BV, SF all claim to only make their leather goods in Europe, but my Chinese neighbour made his fortune making part of SF's shoes here in China and a friend who used to work for Prada in Shanghai told me she suspected that part of the manufacturing was done here in the South, but all very hush hush, of course.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6QD-Wp1_jxd2XKt1vbtd_AvCGGcXHO_TxgDYXgkJLeidjgR5nq8TPbuFu5O_eVIBYyR3YJbZKQaxB0eE7Yl7h35Ipoz7Lezx1flQ7IlUQQS2e4GTDhb8os-b9Dc64g9BgHgT/s1600/crab_Fotor_Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6QD-Wp1_jxd2XKt1vbtd_AvCGGcXHO_TxgDYXgkJLeidjgR5nq8TPbuFu5O_eVIBYyR3YJbZKQaxB0eE7Yl7h35Ipoz7Lezx1flQ7IlUQQS2e4GTDhb8os-b9Dc64g9BgHgT/s1600/crab_Fotor_Collage.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Under Bridge Spicy Crab in Wanchai</td></tr>
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That evening, we met J again for dinner and she invited us to...<b><i>Under Bridge Spicy Crab</i></b>!!! So very generous of her as those crabs cost a small fortune. Basically the crab was buried under a mountain of fried garlic, so not exactly the kind of dinner you want to make with a new suitor, for example.<br />
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Had a lovely time catching up with her, really miss those days when we would lunch out together almost every week with F as well. J returned to HK last December and F left a few days ago for the USA...I've just lost my 2 good friends in Shanghai, probably almost time for me to leave too.</div>
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<i>Voila</i> a quick weekend getaway in HK for 2 sisters and we agreed that we should make a habit of it and do this again.</div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-60098197958723868542014-12-19T13:40:00.000+01:002014-12-19T14:03:53.360+01:00A New Hobby<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ__leYCv_RvVHbmnVZip3SUlNP_piG7Eh_9b2gcXDqjpHpb-m3PEBocI5GbqKyFhJyl_RrfCj5XIGdGrzlts1-Do-ZJOh5xtlN3dpRoTThgdX2HZW8FSY5i8l-ptNz3HpToE/s1600/Hu+Yongkai3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJ__leYCv_RvVHbmnVZip3SUlNP_piG7Eh_9b2gcXDqjpHpb-m3PEBocI5GbqKyFhJyl_RrfCj5XIGdGrzlts1-Do-ZJOh5xtlN3dpRoTThgdX2HZW8FSY5i8l-ptNz3HpToE/s1600/Hu+Yongkai3.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption">My 3rd Hu Yongkai Painting (and my 14th painting)</td></tr>
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A couple of fellow bloggers disappeared and returned months or years later with a cookbook, a new baby, why not a younger spouse, designer kitchen and/or house, new body, re-designed face, eventually a more exciting job! </div>
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Unfortunately, none of the above have I accomplished. I'm still fat, still stuck in Shanghai (though I've travelled quite a bit in the past year), still live in the same house (though we moved out for a couple of weeks in November because of a termite infestation) and still have the same hub (though he's now a few kgs lighter after he returned from a month at INSEAD and started embracing a healthier lifestyle that includes jogging 12km every other day)...</div>
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I searched far and wide in the neuron network in the past few months and finally woke up this morning with the perfect alibi: I've taken up oil painting a little more than a year ago! With age the circuit is a little retarded, sometimes clogged and bulbs just do not light up as often and as quickly as they used to. But, I did start to paint and have been religiously doing so every Tuesday morning since autumn in 2013.</div>
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My younger sister is the artistic one in the family, and I couldn't usually draw an egg to save my life. However, I was told by a number of people that with minimum guidance even an idiot could paint with oil and when offered the opportunity to try, I felt I had nothing to lose and jumped at it.<br />
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I think my teacher Yao ZW is originally from Ningbo, but must have spent most of his life in Shanghai. He rents a ground floor flat near Century Park in Pudong and sets up 6 easels so that he could have 6 students in the morning and another 6 in the afternoon. In the week most of his students would be Chinese housewives (usually pretty wealthy), and during the weekend and public holidays he would have lots of children (often children of the same rich tai tais).<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLI7b3-vPg459X7AQOXQKPGLtlIpDNQjR1xGfuXjpxsu2sxAbBiZ-3UohpNT2jOThyphenhyphenPzewf1SDLeS122MrAALW_04AjvnwTPDWzW9NtZQUlFZG-xBGpcnFPe74_whX22DDogp/s1600/IMG_2733.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijLI7b3-vPg459X7AQOXQKPGLtlIpDNQjR1xGfuXjpxsu2sxAbBiZ-3UohpNT2jOThyphenhyphenPzewf1SDLeS122MrAALW_04AjvnwTPDWzW9NtZQUlFZG-xBGpcnFPe74_whX22DDogp/s1600/IMG_2733.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My very 1st painting, took me 9 hours to finish</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqmo8_Vhk-IfMLDHTTw5OkG5GhdUtfnS0ri0xD5j7hhLLNLNS8Z_cfYyYzci62dvzeXVYnoKc2fKzxl_sI3WJoEkMz-78ZIQNrGcf3xMO9KzHdwaahBRbC91lFyI8-iKY455m/s1600/IMG_2732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqmo8_Vhk-IfMLDHTTw5OkG5GhdUtfnS0ri0xD5j7hhLLNLNS8Z_cfYyYzci62dvzeXVYnoKc2fKzxl_sI3WJoEkMz-78ZIQNrGcf3xMO9KzHdwaahBRbC91lFyI8-iKY455m/s1600/IMG_2732.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2nd painting, kind of scary having that<br />
mountain range and body of water to paint</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-WGn_PzLDB-T-pBnBNV7ehES6s_7VJxSJP7nKyEzxcpsYIJx31iT4tk0XCS93KvRmRmLezQ6yT3CZFjcoefLQnppXfGocyQ-VnmCRVyxglG5-ScO1n3KM4HqNhq5wlNsy-ZXL/s1600/IMG_2731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-WGn_PzLDB-T-pBnBNV7ehES6s_7VJxSJP7nKyEzxcpsYIJx31iT4tk0XCS93KvRmRmLezQ6yT3CZFjcoefLQnppXfGocyQ-VnmCRVyxglG5-ScO1n3KM4HqNhq5wlNsy-ZXL/s1600/IMG_2731.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Impressionist 3rd painting</td></tr>
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Teacher Yao is pretty cool and teaches so that he could feed his only passion which is to paint. His plan is to make a final exhibition of his paintings before he retires so that he could sell them and retire comfortably. At the moment he has bought a house with some land in the countryside about an hour and a half from Shanghai and starting next year will live there during the weekend and remain in Shanghai during the week just to continue teaching. He is actually a pretty well-known painter from some old school, but because his only child is a girl, he had no need in the past to buy a flat in anticipation of her future marriage and as such missed out riding on the property wave that made most Shanghainese rich, see very rich, in the past two decades.<br />
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All new students would start out with a series of 6 paintings chosen by Teacher Yao. Once we have completed these paintings and decide to continue with him, we can begin to more or less paint whatever catches our fancy as long as it's within our ability to do so. After the first few paintings, one would somehow start to have "the feeling" and would more or less know what to do, only occasionally asking Teacher Yao to come rescue us. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifPH0mn1WvWE9HQa6kYdWzpR1kUk55oC-W1BNm664_YK3XV-3JWLv6NjqlHky48vA_urcdMJDFdzbJJX9Ahz8OTc6iXxzgq2bN61_I3bqL7YfIXcx0rNoYKw3DkkR_aX6OguZ/s1600/IMG_2139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiifPH0mn1WvWE9HQa6kYdWzpR1kUk55oC-W1BNm664_YK3XV-3JWLv6NjqlHky48vA_urcdMJDFdzbJJX9Ahz8OTc6iXxzgq2bN61_I3bqL7YfIXcx0rNoYKw3DkkR_aX6OguZ/s1600/IMG_2139.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4th painting: one of my favourites and now with Anna</td></tr>
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I really look forward to joining this class every Tuesday morning, I think I've almost never missed a session since I started. I find it calming to spend 3 hours concentrating on trying to get as much painted as I could (and I'm very slow at it) and often spend days leading up to the class planning what I would do when I get my fingers on the brushes.<br />
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We were the same group of 6 ladies painting together, except for my dear friend and neighbour F who gave birth last June and then moved back to the USA a few days ago. My classmates are all wealthy Chinese ladies with only one child each. The children attend the best Shanghai schools, have expensive tutors, go on exclusive school trips to Europe, and these mothers spend quite a bit of their time during class exchanging notes about their progeny. I usually have nothing much to say about mine because when your kids spend most of their time playing, have no exam pressure and no particular talent to display, you have nothing to share with the others.<br />
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And I am very slow, Teacher Yao complains about it from time to time (though he should be happy as it means each one of my paintings costs me more than usual), and the others would turn up in front of my easel once in a while to tell me that I pay too much attention to detail blah blah...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTNsUbtN2hJ0TNFtXfyiSnkdSPtIeyo2fwMO9u99qAt7rI1kPA8bUaW6oYZxfCtX7sXXaD877EHXh8CjV2yjXsEWhfhpjRoeuoP3l7qpi2kDTDSwgjyudPAPcl9S-cU6HtKXm/s1600/IMG_2916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTNsUbtN2hJ0TNFtXfyiSnkdSPtIeyo2fwMO9u99qAt7rI1kPA8bUaW6oYZxfCtX7sXXaD877EHXh8CjV2yjXsEWhfhpjRoeuoP3l7qpi2kDTDSwgjyudPAPcl9S-cU6HtKXm/s1600/IMG_2916.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5th painting, I can't really do grass</td></tr>
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They are all more advanced than me (at least by a year if not more) and are really amazing with their trees, mountains, sea etc. They are also really fast when they paint, often skipping the pencil sketching part, making me look even slower than I already am. So to set myself apart, I try nowadays to paint stuff that require a lot of patience e.g. buildings, figures, furniture...and they would mumble all the time I spend too much time on the details. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCz19c9m5GeUJxctBsKjRE27u2O0wjGR-Cz_KGkJsS0cfZgODFOG6HWJ5fOJyBmOD7Ms_uooU-Mwic8TlRfnKEcjKGiA2Oq4nZN4pNjeXA4cdk3KGYtwLm9EYcjZcCGyTUoqF/s1600/IMG_2729.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJCz19c9m5GeUJxctBsKjRE27u2O0wjGR-Cz_KGkJsS0cfZgODFOG6HWJ5fOJyBmOD7Ms_uooU-Mwic8TlRfnKEcjKGiA2Oq4nZN4pNjeXA4cdk3KGYtwLm9EYcjZcCGyTUoqF/s1600/IMG_2729.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">6th painting and the license<br />
to choose future paintings more or less freely</td></tr>
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What did I do with my paintings? The first 2 paintings are currently hiding in my pantry, hanging over my shelves of dried goods and bottles of water; the next 5-6 paintings found their way to my several bathrooms (I have 6). One of the more edible ones went to Anna, and my favourite is at this moment making its way (via Hub) to MIL; yet another is currently hanging in the guest room. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF07Gv3gfK0ANpKOFSge5XG69c5phCa72wxDiaN__PQcjKonsLvn9HiPnxtlyRiKawPQ8maM9igK3d6YmaNrh-r4Z9HBPnm8kacW-Hrd1odkGqNGXSS9S0uFy0HvWDWnzfOZqe/s1600/IMG_3385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF07Gv3gfK0ANpKOFSge5XG69c5phCa72wxDiaN__PQcjKonsLvn9HiPnxtlyRiKawPQ8maM9igK3d6YmaNrh-r4Z9HBPnm8kacW-Hrd1odkGqNGXSS9S0uFy0HvWDWnzfOZqe/s1600/IMG_3385.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I also like to paint water villages (8th painting)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNodNwrHVX4F8UEC5NEy9hlyg_FilLlAmMooXIq7a-YtFiwY8chdFVIH5vk8fB1XxqYGDr3L4SNnD_wRc7zgTTn7ITGlKQDku3tWwfStdaTT1bGLZqavAadm-cY9F51mXH2Mw/s1600/Hu+Yongkai2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoNodNwrHVX4F8UEC5NEy9hlyg_FilLlAmMooXIq7a-YtFiwY8chdFVIH5vk8fB1XxqYGDr3L4SNnD_wRc7zgTTn7ITGlKQDku3tWwfStdaTT1bGLZqavAadm-cY9F51mXH2Mw/s1600/Hu+Yongkai2.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 2nd Hu Yongkai painting<br />
that MIL chose to have for Xmas (12th)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbvy_FWtLVZwc9FfoH5baYRgPWKKS3hVZZeVZiWLAaxW_0nVkzt6CdnJJP1DPQXApOoeXRP1HxS1wxMWwcZcqHeU_JooC2wo40DKkUBF8uVeSkkiGfq_NJOR_DoLtgVKRJLa5/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbvy_FWtLVZwc9FfoH5baYRgPWKKS3hVZZeVZiWLAaxW_0nVkzt6CdnJJP1DPQXApOoeXRP1HxS1wxMWwcZcqHeU_JooC2wo40DKkUBF8uVeSkkiGfq_NJOR_DoLtgVKRJLa5/s1600/IMG_3163.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A European water village? (7th)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMwUXQy6gpLsA10Dzd7UxaXWiVlXx0m6f0qCVvCCvtObnYmuc37tBKxufUoOCrIcj23h_8aAMX7KVmWnIYIaVlwZW_QDYYsr9v_MAeDDt9M3D0rL589GmAUr8YjIO7HwiNs8S/s1600/IMG_3809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghMwUXQy6gpLsA10Dzd7UxaXWiVlXx0m6f0qCVvCCvtObnYmuc37tBKxufUoOCrIcj23h_8aAMX7KVmWnIYIaVlwZW_QDYYsr9v_MAeDDt9M3D0rL589GmAUr8YjIO7HwiNs8S/s1600/IMG_3809.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The 1st painting I dared to frame up (9th)</td></tr>
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My favourites are the <i style="text-align: justify;">Hu Yongkai </i><span style="text-align: justify;">paintings (the ones with the Chinese ladies) and I have decided I may paint one between two to three landscapes (which are good for training our painting skills though they are boring) as I gain a lot of satisfaction from doing them. I've already painted all the 3 paintings that Teacher Yao has on photo though, and will have to source for my own samples if I want to paint more of Painter Hu's work. </span></div>
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</span>
<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4A54DgNQW8VdScYYVdxGxfu72WKEV77J-33t9mY2jLfnvVDyicNe8SSwcCvmmgaZ-l_2ByUqI2uYE3RYKOWfeyTON3VT-9VczEwt2qp9c5HB6uItN-59zdO_HJOcs1mEtdw-/s1600/IMG_3833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha4A54DgNQW8VdScYYVdxGxfu72WKEV77J-33t9mY2jLfnvVDyicNe8SSwcCvmmgaZ-l_2ByUqI2uYE3RYKOWfeyTON3VT-9VczEwt2qp9c5HB6uItN-59zdO_HJOcs1mEtdw-/s1600/IMG_3833.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My very 1st Hu Yongkai painting (10th)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWaGntM2wO_tN0S1uRPiZEIJ0_KCYCeLlCPgJiTMAhyphenhyphen9UJ8Lt0dw15ppt45kyZ_WneHFmm4NsDobCggPNbZas27wZA-CgEvLBDXE65RNkDvuqAUVHmNwGdiKU1Yw-UPvtyf8v/s1600/Sea+2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWaGntM2wO_tN0S1uRPiZEIJ0_KCYCeLlCPgJiTMAhyphenhyphen9UJ8Lt0dw15ppt45kyZ_WneHFmm4NsDobCggPNbZas27wZA-CgEvLBDXE65RNkDvuqAUVHmNwGdiKU1Yw-UPvtyf8v/s1600/Sea+2014.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like this one but the rocks were tough to paint<br />
and saw a copy on Taobao selling for 12000 rmb! (13th)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhc4WDx-6z6saeoVYKZ8EFlwBZl083q_b8DoFsQiTEwW1urI8CRhCLLD0r0SQLGLSFmlcs2awazlW2jdK4jnRG-nB1_Vg_-R6sv1W48LJFim0gseR7CI81u8MHdMqhs4V1HaVR/s1600/water+village2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhc4WDx-6z6saeoVYKZ8EFlwBZl083q_b8DoFsQiTEwW1urI8CRhCLLD0r0SQLGLSFmlcs2awazlW2jdK4jnRG-nB1_Vg_-R6sv1W48LJFim0gseR7CI81u8MHdMqhs4V1HaVR/s1600/water+village2014.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another Chinese water village (11th)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Well, so you know what I've been up to in the past year. </div>
<br /></div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-17160613226172062832013-10-04T10:15:00.002+02:002013-10-04T10:15:44.627+02:00Tarte au Citron Meringuée<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UT7R6XDQMv8/UkvmUyMMNMI/AAAAAAAAN1Q/MIUjPnbCd0Q/s1600/tarte+citron2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UT7R6XDQMv8/UkvmUyMMNMI/AAAAAAAAN1Q/MIUjPnbCd0Q/s640/tarte+citron2.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tarte au citron meringuée</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Baby Boy is the only person in the family besides myself who likes this French lemon tart. Occasionally he has a craving for it and would pester me to make him one. I've offered him a few store-bought ones, but he always insists that he prefers mine. At the same time I do not really think that he's crazy about my version of the tart, he just wants to give me work to do. </div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I never seem to have the same tart no matter how many times I make this <b>Tarte au Citron Meringuée</b>. Probably because the oven I've used was different each time. But the result was usually quite tasty and from the rustic look of my labour you could well imagine that I've made it from scratch short of growing my own lemons.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The French do not like to waste if they could help it. Hence if 3 egg yolks were required for the sweet pie pastry, then 3 egg whites would go towards making the meringue to cover it. It serves at the same time to prevent the custard from burning.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Depending on how firm you like your custard to be, you can adjust the baking time in the second part of the baking. I've made anything from flowing lava to firm and they all tasted more or less the same at the end of the day: rich, sweet, acidic, very sinful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Tarte au Citron Meringuée:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QbL_uS64g4w/UkvmWYFdQMI/AAAAAAAAN1E/w7zfhiMdvg8/s1600/tarte+citron4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QbL_uS64g4w/UkvmWYFdQMI/AAAAAAAAN1E/w7zfhiMdvg8/s400/tarte+citron4.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A sinful, calorie-filled slice</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>For the sweet crust pastry:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
200g butter</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
a pinch of salt</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
120g icing sugar</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3 egg yolks</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
250g flour</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>For the lemon custard:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1 large lemon (untreated)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
60g butter</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1 egg</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
120g castor sugar</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>For the meringue:</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
3 egg whites</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
80g castor or icing sugar</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Cut the butter into small pieces and leave to soften in room temperature. Add the salt and sugar and mix (with a whisk or with your fingers) till you obtain a creamy paste. Add the egg yolks and continue mixing. Sift the flour and mix in a quarter first. Finally add in the rest of the flour and finish mixing only with your fingers without overworking the dough. Form the dough into a ball and wrap in cling wrap. Refrigerate for at least an hour.<br />
<br />
Preheat the oven to 170°C/340°F. Line the bottom of a round ceramic mould with baking paper and fill it with the dough pressing it well onto the sides. I didn't bother to roll out the dough before I used it so I ended up with a rustic-looking crust. Bake in the oven for 20-25 minutes. As a general rule, I prefer tarts with a thin crust so that one could enjoy the filling, but for this lemon tart, I tend to go heavy with the pie crust because I couldn't normally survive too much of the <i>certes</i> yummy tangy-sweet filling. In any case it's all a question of personal taste.<br />
<br />
Lower the heat in the oven to 150°C/305°F. Zest and juice the lemon. Melt the butter and set it aside. Mix the egg with the sugar followed by the zest, juice and butter. Pour into the baked pie crust and bake for 12 minutes. At this point you can decide to increase the baking time by a few minutes if you wish to have a firmer/more cooked custard. Remove the tart from the oven and set aside.<br />
<br />
Lower the heat in the oven to 100°C/215°F and do make sure the oven is truly at this temperature before you proceed. Whisk the egg whites till firm and whisk in the sugar bit by bit till you get a shining white meringue batter. Cover the tart with it and bake in the oven for 20 minutes. If for some reason the meringue is not cooked, continue baking till it is reasonably firm.<br />
<br />
Let it cool before serving. I personally prefer it chilled.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-79483686395278495382013-10-01T13:26:00.000+02:002013-10-02T13:39:50.328+02:00Walking in Puxi (浦西) Autumn 2012<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfWd8Urkg4A/Ukgq4ULiExI/AAAAAAAAN0M/7HvmrAxmm9U/s1600/DSC02868.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qfWd8Urkg4A/Ukgq4ULiExI/AAAAAAAAN0M/7HvmrAxmm9U/s400/DSC02868.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Chinese boy in Puxi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today is Children's Day in Singapore. Or I'm being stubborn because I now live in China and we have just started the famous Golden Week (if you see lots of Chinese tourists where you are you'll understand why) celebrating the PRC's National Day. The security guard just delivered us a bag courtesy of the Shanghai Municipality to mark the occasion and it contained a TCM brochure and a free wooden health comb.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have therefore decided to do another long due post on Shanghai. We have been living here more than 2.5 years now. Officially the contract finishes in March next year, but with Hub helping the company open up factories in the North plus his having just taken over their Malaysian operations, I suspect that we would be here for a little while longer.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We live reasonably isolated from the humdrum of Chinese life. When we leave our lightly gated community we do find ourselves in the midst of the locals and migrant workers, but Jinqiao in Pudong is still a small (expat) world apart from Puxi - the historic part of Shanghai.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Visiting Puxi was therefore often looked upon as a little expedition for some of us, especially when the traffic jams on the way there seemed to be getting from bad to worse nowadays. Not surprising when you consider the thousand COEs they issue each month to new car buyers and these new cars tend to be those big, expensive imported ones that take up a lot of space on the roads. Foreign car makers used to imagine that cheap, outdated car models would sell like hotcakes in China, only to discover that only the Chinese carmakers could make lousy cheap cars that the Chinese would buy; the majority only want the very best that even many Europeans and Americans could no longer afford. This is an example of the Chinese success story and my Jiangmen cousin's recent purchase of a BMW is a case in point. Rewind to the 1980s when he sent us a photo of his proud purchase : a 3-wheel mini-van/scooter. He has done well like so many of his comrades.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BD7rO7GyrOg/Ukgo_b0bj6I/AAAAAAAANyU/1DiWwvwsos0/s1600/DSC02848.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BD7rO7GyrOg/Ukgo_b0bj6I/AAAAAAAANyU/1DiWwvwsos0/s320/DSC02848.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vegetables, anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Together with my neighbours J and F we finally found a moment last autumn for our walkaround. We asked to be driven to the former French Concession (forgetting the word "former" could get one into trouble with the authorities) and from there explored the surrounding (older) neighbourhoods on foot. They probably had fantastic photos as they brought along their SLRs, but I was too lazy and used my really old Sony. Many things have changed since, e.g. one building we saw being renovated then now houses a French restaurant.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G2i76tQOTDk/Ukgox_i7a0I/AAAAAAAANyE/1Z7WKDxekOo/s1600/DSC02847.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G2i76tQOTDk/Ukgox_i7a0I/AAAAAAAANyE/1Z7WKDxekOo/s320/DSC02847.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dancing in Fuxing Park</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We walked through Fuxing park (the one where <i>Chinese and dogs </i>were not allowed entry in the old colonial days) and saw the Chinese dancing in it; we walked past street markets and tasted some of the less dangerous-looking wares. We peeped into boutiques, but could find nothing to buy either because we couldn't fit into Chinese sizes or couldn't afford Shanghainese prices. Contrary to popular belief outside China, Shanghai is a very expensive city.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PHAp93Znysg/UkgoYoDpGBI/AAAAAAAANxo/fP_P5QnVqXA/s1600/DSC02844.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PHAp93Znysg/UkgoYoDpGBI/AAAAAAAANxo/fP_P5QnVqXA/s320/DSC02844.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cloth for pyjamas?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
Near Yongkang Lu I walked past a tiny shop selling cloth and the owners giggled when they saw me. When they realised I could speak Chinese they told me I looked like some famous ethnic minority singer in the country. I think I knew who they were referring to; funny enough the singer in question is also married to a European.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the summer I've read a few books written by Shanghainese who have fled China in the 1940s and who lived in the Western world after that. It was fascinating learning about the street names in French in those days (e.g. Huaihai Zhong Lu used to be known as Avenue Joffre), about the prosperity in the city before the Communists took over. As you walked around the city you could imagine (often still see) its former splendour, and sometimes one wonders what things would have been if there hadn't been communism, the cultural revolution etc. Probably fewer ugly towers (like in HK) that have aged badly, to start with. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-vDwIGn6W0/UkgpwyCF6EI/AAAAAAAANzE/HuG5FGNlBDw/s1600/DSC02857.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9-vDwIGn6W0/UkgpwyCF6EI/AAAAAAAANzE/HuG5FGNlBDw/s320/DSC02857.JPG" width="240" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However, delayed prosperity is better than no prosperity. I just found out, for instance, that one of my drivers (since August this year we have 2 cars and 2 drivers) is going to become quite rich overnight. His late grandfather owned a broken-down-no-private-toilet old house near People's Square in Puxi that is finally going to be acquired by a developer. The compensation depends on the number of people registered under each address and in Driver J's case, the three (feuding-because-of-incoming-wealth) families "living" under the roof will <i>each</i> receive <i>two</i> new 2-bedroom apartments (choice of 3 locations in Shanghai). At current property prices (e.g. in the Sheshan area where the new flats will be), their old house is worth around 800,000 euros! </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YjhhANllPr8/Ukgo8xNl73I/AAAAAAAANyM/TEVTSBShZ3o/s1600/DSC02849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YjhhANllPr8/Ukgo8xNl73I/AAAAAAAANyM/TEVTSBShZ3o/s320/DSC02849.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Milk box, letter box, electricity box?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Driver J is now going to be very comfortable like a number of Shanghainese with wealth that just dropped on their laps thanks to the crazy development of their city. He whined that the locals who used to/still own land (本地人) in the near countryside are/will be even richer because the compensation tends to be 2-3 times more important than for small old houses in the city. I've heard stories of road sweepers turning up for work driving Mercedes-Benz because they had become rich overnight but had no skills in life besides farming, for instance.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uc6JvLhxGso/UkgqvSlwTcI/AAAAAAAAN0A/zUyTOr5TdYY/s1600/DSC02867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Uc6JvLhxGso/UkgqvSlwTcI/AAAAAAAAN0A/zUyTOr5TdYY/s320/DSC02867.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quite tasty actually</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His daughter's generation will be the most fortunate, I think. The girl will have at least 4 flats to inherit later on in life: her maternal grandparents' flat in Qibao, her dad's current Kangqiao flat and the coming 2 flats in Sheshan! In fact, you just need to rub shoulders with young Shanghainese to know that they will be one smirky-very-pleased-with-themselves generation to look out for. They have comfortable lives, good education, good jobs, good future - and cannot imagine why they couldn't always get what they want in life.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other day I lunched alone at the Food Opera food court at Super Brand Mall. Left an old folded shopping bag on a seat so that I could free my hands to carry my tray of food. Came back to find a young Chinese girl on my seat. When I told her that she was sitting on my seat, she looked at the bag she had removed/set aside and retorted, "<i>I couldn't possibly not sit where I wanted to because of your bag, could I?</i>"</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I freaked out when I heard that because I had expected to hear a brief apology and was getting ready to move on. Obviously she didn't think it wrong to touch something that didn't belong to her, nor did it occur to her to apologise for having done that. A whole city filled with complacent, spoilt brats like that, what future does this country have? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, while waiting to see this city transform itself into one of unparalleled wealth, of glittering skyscrapers, megastores and ubiquitous Land Rovers, we are going to try to enjoy as much of what still remains that is charming and interesting. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I must remember to ask Driver J to check with his neighbours before they move if they have any old furniture they would be throwing out that could be of interest to a <i>karang guni </i>like myself.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love lanzhou lamian</td></tr>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-6452123231723031712013-09-29T16:10:00.002+02:002013-09-29T16:18:28.186+02:00Hoummous<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hoummous</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first chickpeas I "mashed" probably were the <i>kacang puteh</i> ones back in Kong Chian cinema during those days when I was a kid. A few decades later fancy me being known in close circles for my humble <b>Hoummous</b> and friends have even rejected watered-down versions being sold in popular bazaars by so-called hoummous experts, insisting that I provide them with my recipe so that they would know how to make it even after they (or I) have left whichever city we were friends in.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many years ago I've blogged about a <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.com/2010/06/beetroot-hoummous.html" target="_blank">beetroot version</a> and this should precede it, but for some reason I've never blogged about the classic version. So I'm setting things right today and this could then go into my archives for whoever would be looking for my take on the hoummous.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Hoummous : </b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">460g canned chickpeas</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">1-2 tbsp tahini <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(cold-pressed sesame paste)</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">1 tbsp dry-roasted cumin seeds</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">juice of 1 lemon <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(and adjusted according to taste)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">4-6 tbsp olive oil <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(and extra for garnishing)</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">3 garlic cloves <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(grilled)</span></span><br />
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Drain the water from the can and immerse the chickpeas in a bowl of hot salted water.</div>
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Dry roast the cumin seeds in a frying pan with the garlic (roughly chopped) and when fragrant add in some olive oil.</div>
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Remove the chickpeas from the hot water and add them plus the cumin and garlic to a blender. Add olive oil, lemon juice and tahini and blend to a roughly fine paste. Add salt to taste and if necessary a little water and/or olive oil if the paste is too dry.<br />
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Pour the paste into a pretty recipient and make a well. If not consuming immediately, cover with cling wrap and refrigerate. (Actually the dish is best served chilled.)<br />
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Just before serving, pour a little olive oil into the well and add a few chickpeas for decoration. Sprinkle some ground paprika over everything and serve the hoummous with fresh vegetable sticks or corn chips.</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-79035059903400373212013-09-29T14:12:00.001+02:002013-09-29T14:45:12.431+02:00Hong Kong with Anna (September 2012)<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Anna and I at L'Atelier de Robuchon</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Did I tell you I finally turned 40 last October? Just when I'm on the verge of turning 41... </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A long time ago 40 seemed like a long way away, but now even a day seemed like an hour.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apart from the fact that I may become <i>botak</i> and bedridden, will need to visit the loo (even) more often and am getting closer to losing my dear parents, I have nothing much against me ageing.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The kids are growing up and it's wonderful seeing them do so. Ok, I know I will miss them as babies, but I'm trying to be brave. They have been so very cute and still are, I am blessed. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wasn't the only one I know turning 40 last year since I went to school every year with quite a number of kids my age over 2 decades. One of them <i>choped</i> me way back in anticipation of us turning 40 almost around the same time and it was decided that we would meet half way (me from Shanghai and she from Singapore) in Hong Kong to celebrate the occasion.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anna and I went to Secondary school together. In Sec 1 we used to walk together after school she to the bus stop either to wait for the bus or for her mum to drive by and pick her up; me to my parents' flat not too far from our school. We were in the same class in upper Secondary.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At 17 she left Singapore to study in Canada and Australia and when she came home I left to do my Masters in France. But somehow we've always stayed in touch and she even attended my wedding in France many years ago. So we've come a long way.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our 1st makan session</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We met at HK airport one weekend in September last year and made our way to our very nice hotel in Causeway Bay. Once we've dumped our luggage we set out to eat and to eat where locals eat, of course. I think our first meal was at <i>Ho Hung Kee</i> where we had beef hor fun among other dishes. Over the next 3 days we also ate fish balls, dim sum, rice porridge, fried dough sticks, soy bean curd etc with/like the locals.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dim sum!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-826VSBHuE2Q/UQJDzQWvUMI/AAAAAAAANpY/lSDpvAh4wWs/s1600/HK14.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-826VSBHuE2Q/UQJDzQWvUMI/AAAAAAAANpY/lSDpvAh4wWs/s320/HK14.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Famous old-style bakery</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The last time I was in HK I was a kid. Went with the parents to visit relatives (who owned a bicycle shop or 2) and eat dim sum every morning and never went back again before last September. I was therefore quite surprised to discover that HK should be so packed, filled with dripping air conditioners overhead and people literally rubbing shoulders with you as you walk.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-joB1ZtRVF0I/UQJDZbB_SbI/AAAAAAAANpI/nxVUo11oN0M/s1600/HK12.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-joB1ZtRVF0I/UQJDZbB_SbI/AAAAAAAANpI/nxVUo11oN0M/s320/HK12.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-erZX2Nz7J7k/UQJEq60mGyI/AAAAAAAANqI/WZvwsCMqCtE/s1600/HK2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-erZX2Nz7J7k/UQJEq60mGyI/AAAAAAAANqI/WZvwsCMqCtE/s320/HK2.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GplieNb577I/UQJGZN5SjnI/AAAAAAAANro/uvQp36mFuWM/s1600/HK7.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GplieNb577I/UQJGZN5SjnI/AAAAAAAANro/uvQp36mFuWM/s320/HK7.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gCdGnBIGrIU/UQJGCC6FcDI/AAAAAAAANrY/jCWPgsi6Cag/s1600/HK5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gCdGnBIGrIU/UQJGCC6FcDI/AAAAAAAANrY/jCWPgsi6Cag/s320/HK5.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hvt8TGvl6Ao/UQJFhzKkhzI/AAAAAAAANq4/CxPvpeuuMl0/s1600/HK3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Hvt8TGvl6Ao/UQJFhzKkhzI/AAAAAAAANq4/CxPvpeuuMl0/s320/HK3.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you think of the cost of any property within the CBD you are surprised at the state of most buildings around you. They could certainly do with a facelift. A few trees here and there wouldn't hurt either.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-81RIY3FM_cA/UQJDAchty7I/AAAAAAAANo0/DiWyaCPXp6U/s1600/HK11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y3oDsv0umkQ/UQJDbQFglHI/AAAAAAAANpQ/-VYbBz7MMNM/s1600/HK13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-y3oDsv0umkQ/UQJDbQFglHI/AAAAAAAANpQ/-VYbBz7MMNM/s320/HK13.JPG" width="240" /></a><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-81RIY3FM_cA/UQJDAchty7I/AAAAAAAANo0/DiWyaCPXp6U/s320/HK11.JPG" width="240" /></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rZfKbFsuTMY/UQJGb4gTPXI/AAAAAAAANrw/jEiTeDWONWc/s1600/HK9.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rZfKbFsuTMY/UQJGb4gTPXI/AAAAAAAANrw/jEiTeDWONWc/s320/HK9.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Irnf2jsqt64/UQJDAIE6cwI/AAAAAAAANow/vGs6IXKkhbM/s1600/HK10.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Irnf2jsqt64/UQJDAIE6cwI/AAAAAAAANow/vGs6IXKkhbM/s320/HK10.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having said that I liked HK. I liked being able to speak Cantonese, being able to eat Hongkongese, being able to say that Singapore is prettier after all :-). The city certainly is bustling, filled with eateries and restaurants and little shops, with a cheap and efficient public transportation system and also the most amazing boutiques.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Very good roast meats in this neighbourhood eatery</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anna and I celebrated in style. We dined at two Michelin-starred restaurants when we were there :<a href="http://www.robuchon.hk/" target="_blank"> L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon</a> and <a href="http://www.thechairmangroup.com/" target="_blank">The Chairman</a>. I've dined at the former in Paris a few years ago so I knew what to expect, except I'm surprised that the HK branch actually has 3 stars. But Anna with her tiny waist couldn't do justice to even the tiny portions served at l'Atelier and I had to finish up most of her food for her.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Chairman served fine Chinese cuisine in a residential area and we sat at a corner table wondering at first what possessed Michelin to give it a star. We ordered the tasting menu and were served fine Cantonese dishes that sometimes came with a foreign ingredient like balsamic vinegar; or with my favourite salted fish, yum yum. The waiters were better-natured than most you would find in HK so if you have reasonably deep pockets this would be a place to dine often in.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wJFiG8jEx0M/UQJFK5ORLOI/AAAAAAAANqw/vevNxjE4XxM/s1600/HK22.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wJFiG8jEx0M/UQJFK5ORLOI/AAAAAAAANqw/vevNxjE4XxM/s320/HK22.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We took a tram up to The Peak to enjoy a view of HK though the skies were heavy and we risked being caught in a downpour. It was Sunday and the CBD was full of Filipino and Indonesian maids off duty which made you realise how essential these workers must be to help hardworking HK residents enjoy a good life in such an expensive city.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was quite amazing to see greenery as you move uphill, even more amazing to see building after building as you climb higher up towards The Peak. It must be beautiful but also quite a challenge to live up there, what if you need a loaf of bread or some eggs and the supermarket is down in the plains?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are a number of restaurants (and Madame Trussards) up there which made for an interesting day out watching the world below if the skies were not covered.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kCr11UfWHhk/UQJFG3U3AbI/AAAAAAAANqg/Op2Nj_ZUfxk/s1600/HK24.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kCr11UfWHhk/UQJFG3U3AbI/AAAAAAAANqg/Op2Nj_ZUfxk/s640/HK24.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We took a taxi one afternoon to shop at Ap Lei Chau known for its brand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ed outlets and unknowingly we found ourselves at the bottom of my neighbour J's block of flats! What a small world...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was nice having time together like that after all these years. Higher studies, work, family, distance all conspired to make it difficult for old friends to meet so it was a precious weekend to treasure in the years to come. The kids survived the weekend alone with their father, the kitchen was a mess when I came home but it was not destroyed. </span></div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-59769274686535172332013-09-29T13:08:00.001+02:002013-09-29T14:14:15.764+02:00Butter Cake (Compact Version)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Butter Cake (compact version)</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A fellow blogger recently justified her absence with the publication of a cookbook while another was MIA because she had a new baby. I, unfortunately, have been absent mainly because I couldn't figure out how to use the new blogger. Plus the VPN hadn't been cooperating much since the Chinese Government figured out how to sabotage it from time to time. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Actually I haven't been cooking anything exciting either since we have become a family of fatties (with the exception of the Teenager who has only grown muscle, not fat). While we fantasise about eating we hadn't dared to do too much of it. Our family BMI has not diminished much, unfortunately, and I've been toying with the idea of a fat freeze which wouldn't happen since we have 3 kids to send to university and not enough funds in the bank for that.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We have however done a bit of travelling. In fact, the overweight problem probably came from that since one does tend to put on weight when travelling and trying out interesting restaurants during the trip(s).</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Chinese Golden Week starts tomorrow and I've made the good resolution to stay put and not travel so that we wouldn't put on more weight; but I made the mistake of paying an Animal Jam membership for each of the Babies which saw them hogging both computers at home all of yesterday.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not knowing what to do (I didn't feel like reading, was sick of trying to finish up my latest mosaic project and couldn't play the piano since Hub was in a video conference), I decided to bake a <b>Butter Cake</b>. But a compact one and not the usual more-like-pound-cake one that I've been making since I was a teenager.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was so lazy I didn't even want to take out my electric mixer. I just baked a cake by stirring with a wooden spoon and the result was a very compact and rich cake that the Hub, who is currently on daily aspirin to thin his blood, consumed almost entirely single handedly. Needless to say he ate and whined alternatively which made me sound like a sabotager of healthy hearts instead of a kind and loving wife.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u>Butter Cake (compact version) :</u></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">150g sugar</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 tsp pure vanilla extract</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3 tbsp grand marnier</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4 eggs</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">100g plain flour</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a pinch of salt</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Preheat oven to 190°C/375°F.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Line a 19/20 cm round mould with baking paper.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Melt butter in a large bowl in the microwave oven till very soft.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stir in sugar, vanilla extract and grand marnier with a wooden spoon.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stir in one egg at a time.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Stir in sifted flour and add the salt.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Pour into lined mould and bake for 25-27 minutes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Remove cake from the oven and cool for at least 15 minutes before removing from the mould.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Know why Hub couldn't stop eating this cake? It was the grand marnier that did him in. </span></div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-40270096451146415682013-01-24T09:54:00.000+01:002013-01-24T11:12:10.488+01:00Mooncake Festival 中秋 2012 <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NFci7GIBIN0/UQD5Ife1OHI/AAAAAAAANb0/19a995t4wCs/s1600/DSC02781.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NFci7GIBIN0/UQD5Ife1OHI/AAAAAAAANb0/19a995t4wCs/s640/DSC02781.JPG" width="480" /></a><br />
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I haven't been able to bake my own mooncakes last year like I'd promised myself I would the year before. Apart from being lazy I'm also trying to lose some weight (since when have I not been trying to lose weight you'd say) so it would be crazy to start baking dozens of the sweet and oily stuff much as it would be nice to have a few nice pictures to show for the effort.</div>
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Then came the neighbours to the rescue. In anticipation of the Mid-Autumn festival J attended 2 mooncake-making classes and kindly agreed to share her new-found skills with a few of us. She brought over all the necessary ingredients and all I needed to provide was my table top, <i>coup de main</i> and hot oven. Charming company thrown in, of course.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OUTOtPlF1EQ/UQD5ERiwJCI/AAAAAAAANbk/0A92kVo4JM8/s1600/DSC02774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OUTOtPlF1EQ/UQD5ERiwJCI/AAAAAAAANbk/0A92kVo4JM8/s400/DSC02774.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NiJnyg4Fmek/UQD4s48XEZI/AAAAAAAANbU/lkqtFm_Q9Qw/s1600/DSC02775.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NiJnyg4Fmek/UQD4s48XEZI/AAAAAAAANbU/lkqtFm_Q9Qw/s400/DSC02775.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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You should see the amount of golden syrup, oil and sugar that went into those mooncakes. I had to provide a lot of cling wrap if I didn't want the table top to be over moisturised. Though it was fun making them because you could more or less fill them with whatever you like. But I'm a simple girl, I either like red bean paste or lotus seed paste with double egg yolks.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRncfBZ2ysA/UQD4rFnDEQI/AAAAAAAANbM/bTf7xWztjA4/s1600/DSC02776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRncfBZ2ysA/UQD4rFnDEQI/AAAAAAAANbM/bTf7xWztjA4/s400/DSC02776.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Incidentally I ended up eating quite a number of lotus seed and red bean paste mooncakes last year in spite of my good intentions (not to). The Chinese cousin sent up 2 boxes from the South (containing dried tangerine peel though you couldn't really taste it - thank God) and a local friend offered me a box (that also came from the South).<br />
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I also ate a number of the local savoury pork mooncakes that were really good when eaten hot off the oven. Though ask me not what they filled those stuff with, one couldn't really make out what was meat and what was fat but eat everything together and I can tell you it was good (though not for the heart).<br />
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So I start off 2013 with the resolution (once again) to make my own mooncakes this year. I will buy a few of those modern plastic moulds (see picture) that may not be sexy or ecological, but oh so easy to use. Another good reason to spend more time on Taobao.</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-85391132947619692842013-01-24T03:39:00.002+01:002013-09-29T14:55:37.462+02:00My Paternal Great Grandfather<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvC0xF4vgs7Aoc99JO3ZJAf1QtfLl3wR0bx9yq4bCscI8PhtXi4uVF20RXfEZTYAaB8e6SnlMW-98Th-0ARYnvaO2XSeCXNKyT2TqHxgaFtiHFRhT34eomNj0Ho7xYkueZ7EOv/s1600/great+grandpa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvC0xF4vgs7Aoc99JO3ZJAf1QtfLl3wR0bx9yq4bCscI8PhtXi4uVF20RXfEZTYAaB8e6SnlMW-98Th-0ARYnvaO2XSeCXNKyT2TqHxgaFtiHFRhT34eomNj0Ho7xYkueZ7EOv/s640/great+grandpa.jpg" width="468" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Great grandpa in a suit</span></td></tr>
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I know that I have been away for a long time.</div>
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I've missed writing, but I've not missed the blog. I never thought I'd say that, but I just did and it proved that I have a life other than my blog. I still feel the need to document, more for myself than for anybody else, but I no longer feel the urgency to do so in real time.</div>
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For my 40th birthday last October Hub had the first year of my blog published. He obviously thought the blog meant a lot to me (which it does) and he must be proud of it in some way (I'm honoured, of course). I felt embarrassed about it actually, since I never thought it was decent enough to be put to print and I still don't. I would have liked to be able to revise/edit it myself, but it had been left to the Teenager to do it and while it was sweet of the boy, it was as with most of his work sloppily done.</div>
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Much and yet nothing much has happened since I last blogged. We are still in China and would have at least another year left of our stay here. I am busy and keep myself busy, we have travelled and are going away again very soon and I still cook every day though I have not been experimenting lately.</div>
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A few days ago I asked my Chinese cousin in Jiangmen to send me a photo of our great grandfather. He first showed it to me 2 years ago when I brought the parents down to visit our <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.com/2011/07/visit-to-ancestral-village.html" target="_blank">ancestral village</a> and I've always wanted to see it again.</div>
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I couldn't remember why great grandpa was wearing a suit and why he had his picture taken in it, but I will ask cousin again the next time I see him. I also couldn't remember what the guy did in his life, except for some reference to opera costumes. The cousin had provided much information, but I'm getting on in years and couldn't seem to remember much of anything nowadays. Another reason why I should document more in my blog and certainly not wait too long to do so, I guess.</div>
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2 years in China and I must say that I'm happy here. But I don't feel any more Chinese for that, on the contrary I reaffirm my foreignness every day. I get Chinese people coming up to me from time to time asking me if I were Chinese, and often in the same breath they would tell me that I do not really look like one. A few would tell me I'm 很洋气 meaning they think I have western airs (whatever that meant).</div>
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Great grandpa was tall and thin. I wonder why that kind of genes didn't pass on to me or to any of my kids. Mum's short and fat ones were probably more dominant. Fancy me being really tall with skinny legs - my life could have been very different, don't you think so?</div>
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Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-42842923327953433922012-07-24T10:21:00.010+02:002013-01-24T11:14:19.718+01:00Classic Tiramisu (with Egg version)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLUfSc3wBmbdVR27IKP-QHawfJAhFoIE9OsKMtedLJRnMxmTRAZruETqcsl3GbONiWHY6sQYLWv6T2OrJ-MAhk38XFMyZn1Atnxew1tVW1xdxe80FePCq_jeb6EU7jSQ_B2kR/s1600/tiramisu.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" height="640" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5768653868411843298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoLUfSc3wBmbdVR27IKP-QHawfJAhFoIE9OsKMtedLJRnMxmTRAZruETqcsl3GbONiWHY6sQYLWv6T2OrJ-MAhk38XFMyZn1Atnxew1tVW1xdxe80FePCq_jeb6EU7jSQ_B2kR/s640/tiramisu.JPG" style="display: block; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;" width="480" /></a><br />
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I am one of those Asian mothers who tend to be more negative then positive, I guess. </div>
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<i>Scraped your knee or have a tummy ache? Do I look like a doctor to you?</i></div>
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<i>Pick up whatever you have thrown around! For every piece of rubbish I find you'll get a stroke of the cane! </i>(I know that this has registered because they repeat it to each other every time they make a mess)</div>
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<i>Get yourself lost when we are out shopping? We'll give your toys to the remaining sibling. And you know what they do to you after that? Remember Slumdog Millionaire.</i></div>
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I've sometimes fantasised about being one of those positive mums who instils confidence in her kids by always being kind and positive. Who only talks/discusses/praises/encourages and never screams/threatens/condemns/ridicules...But life is never the fairy tale you dreamt of living and I've somehow been programmed to be the shrewish sort (yup, blame it on the DNA). I worry a lot about how the mother I am could be affecting my kids, but I'm not as strong as I would have liked to be, unfortunately. I could only shower them with a lot of love and attention when I am not angry or screaming away.</div>
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The other day we were out shopping. Baby Boy has become pretty proficient rolling about in his <i>Heelys</i>. And out of the corner of my eye I saw him heeling away ahead of us, not watching where we were actually going. It wasn't a big mall so I wasn't too nervous about it, and being the mean mum I was, I wanted to see 1) if he would realise that he was lost; 2) whether his siblings would realise that he was lost; 3) if he would still dare to heel away without waiting for the rest of us.</div>
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5 minutes later Baby Girl suddenly noticed that Baby Boy wasn't with us. I shrugged my shoulders and continued shopping. The Teenager was his usual selfish self and didn't react. But Baby Girl surprisingly told me not to move so that I wouldn't lose her and dashed out to look for her younger brother. She returned a few minutes later holding her weeping brother's hand.</div>
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<i>When I realised that he was lost, I didn't think of taking his toys, mum. I was worried that there would be nobody to play with me anymore.</i></div>
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This is the girl who is always jealous of her younger brother. But I guess she must care for him after all.</div>
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I had to clear out the fridge since we would be leaving Shanghai tomorrow for 3 weeks. I had mascarpone, whipped cream and organic eggs. I thought I could make my Babies happy by making them a <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000; font-size: 130%;">Classic Tiramisu</span></b>. The version with eggs - even though we are in the middle of a hot Shanghainese summer.</div>
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This Tiramisu is lighter than the <a href="http://beaulotus.blogspot.com/2012/06/tiramisu-2012-version.html">eggless ones</a> I usually make. And it has a pretty yellow hue thanks to the egg yolks. I should make this more often and cross my fingers we do not get salmonella poisoning. So do try to use fresh organic eggs when making this dessert.</div>
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<b>Classic Tiramisu :</b></div>
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26-28 <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">sponge fingers</span><br />
3-4 expresso cups of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">strong coffee</span><br />
2 tbsp <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">grand marnier</span><br />
2 tsp <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">sugar</span><br />
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400g <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">mascarpone</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 85%;">(preferably italian-made)</span><br />
200ml<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"> whipping cream</span><br />
3 large organic <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">eggs</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 85%;">(yolks and whites separated)</span><br />
2 tsp <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">natural vanilla extract</span><br />
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3 tbsp<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;"> soft sugar</span><br />
1-2 tbsp <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">grand marnier</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #990000;">cocoa powder</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 85%;">(sifted)</span><br />
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Prepare the strong coffee (I only use expresso nowadays), add in the sugar and Grand Marnier. Pour into a soup plate.</div>
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Whip the egg whites till stiff. Set aside.</div>
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In a large bowl beat the egg yolks till creamy. Add the mascarpone and continue whipping. Pour in the whipping cream and the vanilla and whip till you get a thick and creamy mixture. Add the soft sugar, pour in the alcohol and whip some more.</div>
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Finally gently mix in the stiff egg whites.</div>
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Dip the sponge fingers (usually sugared already) very briefly on both sides in the coffee and line the dish with half of them.</div>
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Cover the first layer of sponge fingers with the cream and sift a layer of cocoa powder over it. Spread another layer of sponge fingers on top and cover with the cream. Finish with more cocoa powder over it. </div>
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Cover with cling wrap and refrigerate for a few hours before serving.</div>
Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21346417.post-10130869974553607772012-07-13T10:25:00.003+02:002012-07-14T06:26:02.142+02:00Qibao Old Town, Shanghai<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1qKfGK-L88ELl2yyJGVTsnJosjwSoFtfK_JdCLuwL3p7tcik1QXM0AuCudfiKp-t4kBAOgkO5SCapW7asKPXykOWH1tfEF-lYjNonDAXXhafnsaFKZ82NaI8vBnc5ggy5oF-/s1600/qibao5.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk1qKfGK-L88ELl2yyJGVTsnJosjwSoFtfK_JdCLuwL3p7tcik1QXM0AuCudfiKp-t4kBAOgkO5SCapW7asKPXykOWH1tfEF-lYjNonDAXXhafnsaFKZ82NaI8vBnc5ggy5oF-/s400/qibao5.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764602139119611586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Qibao's water town snap</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As you know the family came for a visit a few weeks ago. I more or less have the tourist machine oiled and running except that the younger sis had to complicate things by making a 4th child a few months before she was to visit.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb-ktFk9Mx6Ww8xmM_rwqCdkm0DZNOjOsZWuVjEwpxVpEvGQX_xVkggNE5l9j21xOw2s7G2Peb1hyphenhyphenkRyeTUI15VOVyHXbKYPFRT4L59ACpY-GXhAIcYYO_KRXlzA9eiFqRi_HV/s400/qibao.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764602129938761346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">The entrance to the ancient part of Qibao</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Visiting tourist spots with a 7 month old is a challenge for anybody. Fortunately Hub kindly made sure that we had the car and the driver at our disposal during the duration of their visit, but you still wouldn't tempt fate by driving a baby in a car for hours just to smell stinky tofu in an ancient water town.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmDjiOREt1EaHSAKN_39xexrrynIg1rsqduhg2hP4zDaluZ85cQApq8cNCPoekHXT_kOgoXSvdocXKd1n-XA-2nt3YURYjYxcDEOMYmeWLaR43dVeIeysEkR145mZAMm-olbTF/s400/qibao4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764598367809025346" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Mum with 2nd niece and 3rd nephew</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">While I did send them with a reduced number of children to Suzhou one Saturday, I felt that 2 weeks in Shanghai warranted a visit to a nearby water town where they would be able to take in local snacks at a glance. BIL is quite adventurous when it comes to eating street food so I had to give him an opportunity to do just that.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MafH_VW1y8YVv1-1ERcsjAdBpM6Oin8ziXs4qF8PEGA6JORmw-Py42_n-UaQiy4Sn4OygVs1Ckc8V7yYkK0PSlhlczDW8eo0Ugl9lIlYna_amS85votc6X9TM4Thyphenhyphen6tQ39sL/s400/qibao2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764602127812298386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5T2qUOp14tkv1MsyKdjuPVnBmRqXpU-O0M0jrgbIQINuBZX3KGBFBvdzz0xTwS9PzWWvPSOEeC-4Q9AwpznHIpMs6EPqAmO_xsHRNG3Pbj1JMiWAwOzEt_K780UMUrZ4eygu6/s400/qibao6.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764598357637910482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Mum in Qibao</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:130%;">Qibao Water Town and Old Street (七宝老街)</span></b>seemed like the place for a short visit since it's actually situated in the Minhang district of Shanghai itself (less than an hour from my place) and is even accessible by metro. It is supposedly more than a thousand years old (</span>Northern Song Dynasty, 960-1126) <span class="Apple-style-span">and was named in ancient times after its famous temple said to harbour 7 treasures. Only </span>a bronze bell dating from the Ming Dynasty and a Gold Script Lotus Sutra written by an imperial concubine of the 10th century have survived to this day, though if you were to ask most people about the place they probably would only think of its snacks. Check out this <a href="http://www.cnngo.com/shanghai/eat/how-eat-your-way-through-qibao-old-street-299122?page=0,0">article</a> about them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WDZmXw9PnAhdxFXHCgEa-BHzIjE8ZLD_XoRRUeoyi3-YiMI2CpfWeNTg7TRZ5E0NCltqC2D7cVHMmOucNd6TnC3sKVqbVIlTSjk3lvk1S4wQw7StM3tOBTCjrxy7_-RXsp-e/s400/qibao8.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764598349750387666" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Old food street ahead</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The old part of the town is really small. Something you can do with 4 kids including a baby. I am not the kind to tempt fate eating unknown delicacies found in a smelly (no thanks to stinky tofu) street, but felt that I had to mark the occasion by risking gutter oil and bought us a few pieces of fried tofu skin (non-stinky) to nibble on. Also had a pretty good ice Belgian chocolate drink from a modern bubble tea stall while BIL bought baked quail eggs to try.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik7iswEQYrDgnN7ZKZfbBBXCDsINOr3bfTGO8_7GrigUXgajNldUjbBnZ0k8-8Ehz6BDPB0cLrmNZcP1EpSumqWA7dieviOsmcR0WL3nSOQbvxALK0qSqs2lzDF7NPJzu-XR42/s400/qibao10.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764597006609484018" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Quail eggs</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A new pan-fried soup dumpling (生煎) shop was running a one-for-one promotion and we found ourselves queuing up for a long time to try out its dumplings. They weren't too bad and were best eaten fresh out of the pan, though minus the promotion I probably wouldn't bother to queue up this long in the heat for them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9Q46IyiVKk4Wjv1KIX5BUetfSeQ0fUihOQvHj2oeLodHOoDESWwu26nIQXV4X1akWCbuQN48Nsj0j-TjmELLhmDPllt_XGj_G3m_SCqe3p9YMishum4jQuapM6ya1qE8yA1H/s400/qibao9.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764598345129204770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Town is known for boiled mutton and red-cooked pork</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The town is apparently also famous for cricket fighting since ancient times. Its climate allows for the existence of a few aggressive/fierce breeds of crickets that draw so much interest they even have a special museum for both cricket displays and live cricket fighting shows.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhakHHGFYXkWRcHez5ZFbEZOTb-adOxyasiK9NzFfaRJVQ0rxKP8F7yYW82LoTm5_IS6g1ja9aqVR_FNnWNe7gPZAMZnNAA4_J3X-kaoJFOUbdueOJwg7Nw79v8PfQr073Eng8N/s400/qibao11.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764597004481369058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Fried and roasted delicacies</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GVElov4-HZ-xWtjQ_bEhZq4MV6GiiycojnEwpyKaSevbLA67AISKD1FeVkxKBBQkis6y90VPW8yxiyCu45EQ5PwVO8xCw6De3efJf72UDxAF76IZM1C7kn1zR-M_lTjaYpjS/s400/qibao12.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764596993319752898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">Sweet wine cakes?</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Qibao is worth the while if you like (and dare to try) local snacks and do not mind the ubiquitous stinky tofu smells. Otherwise I've seen prettier ancient water towns in my 18 months here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5QJeFpKhGryih245Z-iUD8yXLGgzGtIp3KvXj5BlZn3K3jB4Lcb382tzZr2Lza1N2RzbqT8gkCGjAkrUO7sSQKwlowaYD5zDyO-XaGUf3ItalLiaPP3JkN21gWBnrjMGh_N3b/s400/qibao13.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5764596989705686386" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:85%;">If I remembered correctly this was a tea house</span></span></div>Beau Lotus 涟http://www.blogger.com/profile/07357356510646043072noreply@blogger.com0