Made: Haiyaaa, Just Dough It

July 2, 2011 § 1 Comment

I ADORE this cookie recipe, PERFECT for someone lazy like me…  I throw in whatever’s in the pantry that looks like it wants to rub shoulders with some flour and butter and cocoa powder. I’ve never seen a more open-minded dough.

Cookie Case 1: Turkish Delight

Cookie Case 2: Dried Cranberries, Roughly Chopped Almonds



150g Unsalted butter (softened)
150g Sugar
1 egg
260g Cake Flour (or 2.8 cup all purpose flour – 5 Tbspn)
40g Cocoa

Whisk sugar into butter. Whisk egg into batter.

Sift in flour and cocoa. Mix well (don’t over work dough.)

Pick up tiny dough ball and roll [whatever ingredient] into it. Squish it flat on to baking paper.

Bake in 17oº C for 20 to 22 mins.


So ridiculously easy no? And it makes my mom happy coz she could bring a batch to drinks after work with her friends, watch them fight over those darlings, and have something else about her daughter to talk about other than ‘yea, she quit her summer job after working there for THREE DAYS. Hyperventilate in grey office cubicle she says. Haiiiii teenagers these days…’

Have you, by the way, seen the first draft of my resignation letter, the one I typed up when I was actually hyperventilating and going slightly insane during the last hours in my cubicle?

Hi Bob*,
This may sound unexpected, and I really appreciate the opportunity given to me for interning at WOW TV*, but I’m sorry to say I don’t think I could be working here anymore. I had a severe case of claustrophobia attack yesterday as I tend to be hyperactive and could rarely be confined to a certain space for a prolonged period of time, except for on planes where I take medication, Chivas. You know, the whiskey. I also have ADD so I can’t focus on one thing for more than a very short period of time without doing something else. Suffering under those two conditions and being placed in a grey cubicle for 8 hours a day, I ended up having a very very VERY bad case of anxiety attack yesterday afternoon at around 5.22pm. My eyes were about to fall out worrying about the my next month in this box… so I started drafting this letter.

I hope you understand. If I caused any inconvenience I am truly, truly sorry. And just to repeat myself, I REALLY appreciate this opportunity working for WOW TV*. But I just never watch TV so I feel like being asked to help repackage a TV program is not very suited for me. It is like a police dog being asked to cook a Michelin meal. Or a Michelin chef being asked to sniff out a bomb.

Again, sorry.

Yours sincerely,

*name changed

I tweaked it a little before I sent it, changing those parts where I made myself sound like an alcoholic and a schizophrenic. I still keep a copy of the original though because I feel like that was the closest I have come to composing literature.

Anyhows. Ciao ciao. Need to run and munch. Today is looking beautiful.



The Fake And The Fat

June 13, 2011 § Leave a comment

‘… in the late 1800s five states passed laws requiring that all butter imitations be dyed pink so no one would be fooled.’
– Michael Pollan, In Defense Of Food

What the hell happened to that?!?

Not that a visual distinction is needed to pick the black sheep from the herd, but it would have made Margarine look less evil.

At Sea: I Was Up To Nothing

June 12, 2011 § Leave a comment

7.20 am

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.

People huffing and puffing and jogging at the track below. My theory: that is not the best way to enjoy a cruise.

8.32 am

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.

My imaginery chestnut dome cake on the farthest right table. I assure you, it looked closer to a chestnut dome cake in real life.

Who the hell puts bagels on top of their hats. Really.


1.21  pm
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.

Those Colors Were Colorful

June 10, 2011 § Leave a comment

Fresh fruits, enveloped with a golden parchment of crepe, glowing with passion under a cold, hard fist of cappuccino ice-cream, sprinkled with a ridiculous variety of technicolored sprinkle-able sweet flecks and drizzled with chocolate and strawberry syrup with an avant-garde flair because we have been doing it this way since we were a meter tall when we were made to believe that we were born artists — classic clubhouse favorite.

Hand me a cheesecake made from the milk of the great-great-great-great-grand-daughter of the lamb that witnessed the birth of Baby Jesus…. and I’ll still go back to this at the end of the day.


The Paddock, Jockey Club, Happy Valley, HK

On The Menu…

June 8, 2011 § Leave a comment

It’s funny how life laughs at us. The two thing I love most – food and clothes – absolute sworn enemies.

And I actually love them. Both. Equally so. It’s not like I feel the need to be fifty-fifty about them, there would not be a favored child. See, they are gifts that appeal to completely different senses. I’ll try make this simpler: I remember once proclaiming the feel of cashmere ‘orgasmic’, but I would not, my friend, find myself one day licking a cashmere sweater with eyes shut and saying ‘Mmm!’. Same applies to a slice of cake, or likes of. I do not grope and feel up cakes. I am just really glad that at this point of my life, I am able to find frequent emotional journeys in my various sensory in-trays – enough for me write about.

But why a food blog? How about clothes, how about fashion? As I had written before in my other blog, the more bits-of-everything blog, … Baby Where’s My Light?, nothing could pull out so many paragraphs of exaggerated imagery and metaphors from me as food could. Only, they are not exaggerated. It is true that I do get highs from food. And if not highs – thrills, excitements, gasps, embarrassing moments of eye-closings, split second fevers, also disgust, disappointments, oh – three-day-long diarrhea sessions, let downs (as in ‘Mmmmmm.. it’s …. so uh, good!’ in that, you know, really polite way of mine), and in general, rather melodramatic trips.

Plus, it’s not like I don’t hear enough about shoe trends at school.

I am not writing as a professional. I do not aspire to be a chef. I am not a food critic (I will not pretend I swallowed a foodpedia – though I do know how to point and order, as opposed to embarrassing myself by mispronouncing something obviously not sounding the way I would have pronounced it). I write for papers. I sew clothes and build shoes at school. I aspire to be a fashion designer.

I also eat – and boy do I love doing that.

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