June 12, 2011 § Leave a comment
Sitting down on one of the 300 empty seats at the stadium on deck 6 over looking the rushing waves, I felt a sudden desire to listen to Paul Cardall… or similar variations of those piano-y stuff they play in clubhouse swimming pool bathrooms.
Then I saw people running at the jogging track below, and suddenly felt an overpowering urge to throw bits of my oversweet ‘nutty nougart donut’ at them.
On the 7th day, after finishing my pile of pancakes with cream cheese and syrup (the latest obsession), i was suddenly so overcome by a severe case of boredom that all i could bare doing was to wait for the arrival of the next meal. Really, there is a limit to sitting there and doing nothing. It gets boring after a while.
I looked up from my phone. I blinked twice. I thought I for a second there was a chestnut puree dome cake with a meringue cookie on the table adjacent to ours – turned out it was a straw hat with half a bagel on top.
What a great hallucination though.
Who the hell puts bagels on top of their hats. Really.
I walked out on to deck 16, the deck of infinite tanning chairs – and was slammed by a gush of powerful wind. With my hair and my calf length black cardigan whipping like torn flags around me, I felt a bit like a nomad making her way across the sahara in front of a row of tanned limbs and curious eyes. My Ann Dem flatforms somewhat acted like sails against the wind, so I kept cross legging and half tripping like a newly born baby deer. After three steps, someone shouted ‘I love your hair!’
I tried to push that Willow Smith song out of my head before it could autoplay itself.
I gave up and flopped down on the nearest empty tanning chair.
Lunch could wait.
Half an hour. Two hours. Two and a half hours. I was still waiting for the wind to stop.
Or me to get sick of the songs on my ipod.
Or people to leave.
Starving. I just wanted someone, something to run out before I do.
June 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
That was one good mushroom risotto.
And that’s a lot coming from someone who never gives much for mushroom risottos. Not the dish in its own right, just general experiences I had with it at various restaurants in the past.
They always come too creamy, too undercooked, too (god save me) mushy – big clump of soggy water bugs infused with cream of mushroom soup concentrate.
This one – the spoonful holds together when you scoop it up, but you could still separate one grain from another had you only whispered such a command. Perfectly diced mushrooms, as well as halved ones – sauteed with a generous dash of olive oil to become bright young things.
Good one, side dish. Way to make me forget about my main.
Solarium Bistro, Oasis of The Sea. Somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean.