Darth Vader wears the mask so you can't see his otherwise sheepishly, apologetic face as he rasps all over the control panel. It's a tad challenging to conquer vast galaxies when you have seemingly no control over a single nostril, or your diaphram for that matter.
This virus has me feeling mundane and filled with the desire to write sonorous poetry. I'm not even sure what that means, but it somehow sounds nasally accurate. Verse upon verse of misery that engulfs the world (hmmmm, clearly the testosterone is winning over the estrogen). With Murphpy like sureness, while I now have the perfect pitch for unsettling calls punctuated with heavy breathing, I don't have the inclination to inflict it upon anyone. What a tragedy.
Hong Kong - Round 2
This weekend saw us in a feeding frenzy of dimsums, first at Maxim's followed by an entirely unnecessary and inappropriate Madarin High Tea at the Mandarin Oriental when my search of chocoalte mousse was thwarted post lunch. Why we thought the dainty fingure sandwiches, petit patesseire and mini quiches were (a) not very much and (b) prelude to teeny scones is beyond me. Naturally, they only breed full size scones and persist and handing out one plain and one fruit to the accompaniment of clotted cream and a most hideous rose jam (or so I hear.... suffice to say I wondered why they'd put ketchup next to the cream, and the brave Ms. M bravely recoiled at it's attarness and waved her hands around for strawberry jam). Naturally, such an incident deserved complaints right up to the UN, and the only way to mollify the situation was to ensure lashings of strawberry jam. Feeling sick, we wound our way up the hill to the hotel to glam up a tad for drinks at Sevva of the magnificent views over Central and hte Harbour. Sadly, the frostbite nipping our butts had us heading indoors to finish our drinks before a lazy scouting of all LKF had to offer topped by strawberries and and chocolate fondant.
Sunday, saw us trek over to Kowloon and a rather well kept Michelin secret. A tiny, hole in the wall dimsum restaurant, cleverly called One Dim Sum that snagged the coveted Michel start last year. You can find it through the queues outside and the neighbourhood populace cannot be overly thrilled with the influx of foreigners to their local diner. As we waited and planned our meal checking with panic far too often if our number had been called, they handed out take away parcels in copious quantities to cars and people that would pull up and patiiently wait till their doggie bag was announced with a flourish. All the tables are the same size and are re-configured with the greatest efficiency to seat tables of 1 to 8 and what can I say except it was worth the wait. The best baked bbq pork buns I've ever eaten (and I'm not a fan) along with the best steamed Chiew Chow dumplings (the same ones at Maxium had the texture, but this one had flavour exploding in your mouth with hte first bite!). Naturally, we had to order seconds, and for the princely sum of HKD 135 (that's about 10 quid), stumbled out looking like overstuffed dumplings.
Plan B was to attempt to reduce the resembles to a dumpling so we elected to walk to the next station, and stumbled upon the goldfish market which had some of the coolest fish I've seen in any tanks including one with an oversized braniac forehead (that just looked so wrong!), hordes of turtles, plastic easter island statues (clearly something fish are fond of?!), albino frogs, kelp and underwater greens in plastic bags and artifically coloured fish that looked like they got into a fight with a box of Faber Castell crayons and lost. From that to Wan Chai and the spanking new Convention Centre sat on the bay overlooking Kowloon, Causeway Bay and Central (rudely interrupted by a softee), pretending to be Yann Arthus Bertrand as we watched batches of dough buns being fried, then getting distracted by a signboard for a dive shop on the 2nd floor.... A manicure, pedicure and massage later, I am fully prepared to call this rather a successful weekend.
Sunday, saw us trek over to Kowloon and a rather well kept Michelin secret. A tiny, hole in the wall dimsum restaurant, cleverly called One Dim Sum that snagged the coveted Michel start last year. You can find it through the queues outside and the neighbourhood populace cannot be overly thrilled with the influx of foreigners to their local diner. As we waited and planned our meal checking with panic far too often if our number had been called, they handed out take away parcels in copious quantities to cars and people that would pull up and patiiently wait till their doggie bag was announced with a flourish. All the tables are the same size and are re-configured with the greatest efficiency to seat tables of 1 to 8 and what can I say except it was worth the wait. The best baked bbq pork buns I've ever eaten (and I'm not a fan) along with the best steamed Chiew Chow dumplings (the same ones at Maxium had the texture, but this one had flavour exploding in your mouth with hte first bite!). Naturally, we had to order seconds, and for the princely sum of HKD 135 (that's about 10 quid), stumbled out looking like overstuffed dumplings.
Plan B was to attempt to reduce the resembles to a dumpling so we elected to walk to the next station, and stumbled upon the goldfish market which had some of the coolest fish I've seen in any tanks including one with an oversized braniac forehead (that just looked so wrong!), hordes of turtles, plastic easter island statues (clearly something fish are fond of?!), albino frogs, kelp and underwater greens in plastic bags and artifically coloured fish that looked like they got into a fight with a box of Faber Castell crayons and lost. From that to Wan Chai and the spanking new Convention Centre sat on the bay overlooking Kowloon, Causeway Bay and Central (rudely interrupted by a softee), pretending to be Yann Arthus Bertrand as we watched batches of dough buns being fried, then getting distracted by a signboard for a dive shop on the 2nd floor.... A manicure, pedicure and massage later, I am fully prepared to call this rather a successful weekend.
Dark Chocolate Mousse
It has been confirmed. My tastes are outdated, outmoded and out of style. I can get any number of exotic desserts ranging from pavlovas to fondants to soufflés all napped with intricate combinations of coulis, but a mere dark chocolate mousse? That has gone the way of the Regency it seems. If I should be so inclined, I could take my pick of a cassis mousse, a raspberry and peach mousse, and even a passion fruit and chocolate mousse (which incidentally is fraudulent as the chocolate part of it is but a few millimeters at the bottom pretending to put up a fight), but nary a simple chocolate mousse (please note the absence of the ‘dark’). Ironic , considering that one can has a plethora of choices be an Gianduja or Vahlrona or sourced from Ethiopia in ranges of 55%, 62%, 85%, 98%...... far too good for a mere mousse. Looks like I shall be forced to spend more money in acquiring some rather tasty looking le crueset ramekins, borrowing an electric egg beater and dig up my hoary favourite chocolate baking book and lament the pretentiousness of modern patisserie as I end the drought of the last 6 months.
The case of the disappearing shawl
Now if only I had the five find outers and dog to call upon. All it would have taken was an excellent tea with cake, scones (lashings of jam), ham sandwiches, tomatoes lemonade and to push them over the edge, ice cream. Alas, I have no one but my rather inadequate eyesight and hapless grumbling as I meander in a oddly purposeful yet helpless manner trying to discover it’s whereabouts. I could have (and do indeed) sworn that I had it wrapped around my person on Friday at some stage before it inexplicably vanished come time to leave the office. I did not waste any of my beseeching looks on my rather merry colleagues that evening as giggly and strident folk tend not to be overly concerned with missing garments, especially if they can have trouble comprehending the specific article of clothing under discussion. A blissfully wasted weekend does not magically bestow it negligently draped over my chair on the Monday morning and my queries are met by surprise and bafflement. It seems to be a day to be baffled. First, a team member quits and vanishes without a trace in a manner worthy of Mr. Bourne leaving the rest of us flummoxed. And then, eventually, I remember my poor shawl and again, am baffled as to its absence from this office. Unless of course, someone has decided it will make a nice warm rug for their pet. This is HK, no one would deign to steal a shawl sans pedigree and label. Which is perhaps why, no one is offering to help me hunt it down.
Ring back the Old!
It’s interesting how people notice your absence. That’s three people in as many days that have asked me if I’ve been on the blog of late… moving to Asia has been disastrous on the personal front. Work is smashing, but I do believe I've become boring.
2012 is my year of resolutions. The only year where I've actually made one. Well, more than one truth be told... but it's already February, and I'm floundering. But I've just added another one on, although most of it seems to be more about regaining myself rather than anything new.
1. To get fit (not to be confused with To be fit)
2. To get back to Blogàtaurus
3. To get back on the road
2012 is my year of resolutions. The only year where I've actually made one. Well, more than one truth be told... but it's already February, and I'm floundering. But I've just added another one on, although most of it seems to be more about regaining myself rather than anything new.
1. To get fit (not to be confused with To be fit)
2. To get back to Blogàtaurus
3. To get back on the road
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