krisalis

Mark’s picture is up in the Mirror Project.

Still Life With Fruit.

I like to cook.

My approach to cooking typically goes something like this:

1) Get hungry 2) Go to fridge, open it up and stare at the contents, waiting for inspiration. 3) Open cupboard. Repeat. 4) Open freezer. Repeat. 5) Have another look in the fridge. 6) Start pulling ingredients from fridge, cupboard and freezer. Assemble ingredients on kitchen table. 7) Start chopping Get out the wok 9) Whack all the ingredients in to cook 10) Eat concoction

I’m not so good at following recipes. Somehow, I never seem to have all the ingredients. Even when I’ve just been out to the shops to buy stuff. So I’ve grown pretty adept at substitution – a little of this for a pinch of that, a bit of onion instead of spring onion, a dollop of sour cream instead of cream, mushrooms instead of celery – pretty soon I’ve got a whole new dish.

Take this evening for example.

Here is the original recipe. It’s for something called Jambalaya. 1/4 lb spicy sausage 1/4 lb chicken breast, diced 1/3 cup onion diced 1 green bell pepper, sliced 1 celery stalk, chopped 1/2 cup clam juice Pinch cayenne pepper 1/2 lb shrimp 5oz rice

This is what I actually cooked:

1/4 lb spicy sausage -> 4 regular sausages. 1/4 lb you say? Yeah, like I’m going to weigh anything. 1/4 lb chicken breast, diced -> Figure 4 sausages is enough for two people. Skip the chicken. 1/3 cup onion diced -> 1 large onion, diced, plus 2 small purple onions, ’cause they taste nice 1 green bell pepper, sliced -> Yeuch. Not a fan of cooked bell pepper. Skip it. Decide to add another vegetable-type thing instead, so dinner is not too brown and bland looking. Add some frozen peas. 1 celery stalk, chopped -> Don’t have any. Decide to substitute mushrooms instead. Celery, mushrooms, hey, what’s the difference? 1/2 cup clam juice -> Ha! Like I have any clam juice! Substitute a chicken stock cube and some extra water. Pinch cayenne pepper -> Ummm, don’t have any. Skip. 1/2 lb shrimp -> Don’t have any. Figure sausages will have to do. 5oz Uncle Ben’s rice from a packet with some special seasoning stuff -> Contents of packet, as prescribed.

The end version was a mere shadow of the original recipe – more “Sausage and Mushroom Risotto” than “Jambalaya”.

But hey, it turned out pretty damn nice and I’ll probably make it again.

I’m thinking of christening this dish “So Not Jambalaya”.

Ok, things should be working for real now.

Fingers crossed

Thank you to all the people who took the trouble to tell me that my skins were screwing up. I appreciate your feedback.

And now I must go outside and play in the sun instead of sitting here indoors tapping away on the ‘puter in my pj’s.

We’re off to MacRitchie Reservoir. See ya later.

Hi there. If all has gone to plan, you should be looking at a new Krisalis design right about now.

If you miss the old design, fear not, for it is still available!

Krisalis is now skinnable! More skinning goodness to follow in the next week or so.

Exciting, huh?! OK, maybe not exciting for you, but I’m pretty pleased with myself. And if someone can tell me how to get rid of that random ASCII character that appears on the top left hand corner of this design, I’ll be eternally grateful, ’cause I cannae figure it out.

On the return journey from Melaka, we stopped at a road-side service station to get petrol, stretch our legs and stock up on caffeinated beverages.

The guys both ordered kopi, which is thick black instant coffee served with condensed milk. I went off in search of Diet Coke.

No joy at the first stall, but the friendly man behind the counter said the stall a bit further along might have some. So off I wandered, leaving my colleagues slurping their coffee.

I walk into the shop, and ask the guy behind the counter for a Diet Coke.

He stares at me.

“Coke Light?”, I venture.

He continues staring.

“Ok, then can I have a 100Plus?”, I ask, gesturing towards the fridge beside the counter, where I can see the icy cold cans glistening invitingly.

Still no response.

I stare back.

Finally, the silence is broken.

“Britney Spears!” he exclaims.

I raise my eyebrows.

“Are you smoking crack?” I ask in my very best what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about voice. “You need glasses. I look nothing like Britney Spears”.

Just to set the scene here for how little I resemble Britney Spears, remember that I have suffered through a harrowing car journey, given a lengthy presentation, sat through a seemingly interminable meeting and endured a late business lunch, only to get back into the car with a driver who fancies himself as the next Michael Schumacher. I’m hot and weary from sitting in the car. I’m grumpy and tired from the meeting. I’ve got my glasses on, and my hair is scragged back off my face in a scruffy bun. I’m wearing crumpled business attire.

“Britney, Britney!” says the man behind the counter.

I roll my eyes and sigh. All I want is a can of juice.

Two of his buddies pop their heads out from the back of the stall to have a look. The three guys then proceed to have an animated conversation in Malay, of which I understand nothing, except the word “Britney”.

Resigned to the fact that I’m not going to get any sense out of this lot, I reach into the fridge, grab a can of 100Plus, drop some Ringgit onto the counter, and leave the men to their Britney gossip.

I went to Melaka yesterday.

It was a business trip, to visiting some potential customers. I went with two guys from my office.

One of the guys, I’ll call him Charlie, did the driving. Charlie drives an Alfa Romeo. I don’t know the model or the engine size, but it’s a sporty looking silver car.

I should have realised something was amiss as soon as I saw the car. Red leather interior. Big stereo with lots of flashy buttons and bright coloured lights, like a little space ship. Sports package gear box.

Boy racer car.

My other colleage immediately took the back seat and fastened his seatbelt. I clambered into the front passenger seat.

The drive out of Singapore wasn’t too bad. Sure, Charlie was a little heavy on the accelerator, but no worse than most taxi drivers. Once we got across the Second Link at Tuas and into the wide open space of Malayisa, full realisation began to dawn.

We covered the first 56 km in 20 minutes. Using a simple calculation of speed = distance/time, this tells me that we averaged a speed of 168 km/hr. And we stopped twice to pay tolls. I couldn’t see the speedometer from where I was sitting, and frankly I’m not sure I would have wanted to looked at it even if I could.

You know those drivers who haul ass down the outside lane of the motorway flashing their lights and beeping their horn at everything and everyone? The ones who overtake on the inside and swerve in and out of traffic irregardless of safety? The ones who occasionally dart onto the hard shouldor to get around pesky traffic? The ones who accelerate into the back of vehicles that are in the process of overtaking a slower vehicle on the inside lane and then slam on the brakes narrowly avoiding certain death?

Charlie is one of those drivers.

I sat transfixed, occasionally gasping out loud in horror.

“What time is the meeting?” I asked, knowing full well it was 10.30am.

“10.30am” said Charlie.

“I think we’re going to make it on time. Maybe we don’t need to go so fast.”

“I’m really hungry”

“Ummm, I’ve got an apple in my bag. Do you want that?”, thinking maybe he would slow down some if I fed him.

“Yes, please!”

So I pass him the apple.

Big mistake.

Now we are travelling at speeds in excess of 170 km/hr, and my driver only has one hand on the wheel.

We bounce over an uneven portion of the road, and swerve to avoid a pothole.

I squeal. Charlie apologises, but continues gunning it down the outside lane.

Eventually, we arrived in Melaka, safe and sound, if a little shaken.

The return journey was a little less hairy, but I’m not planning on getting into Charlie’s car again. Ever.

A few signs I’ve been spending too much time at work:

• I dial “9″ before making a phonecall
• I automatically swipe my access card to enter and exit the office area throughout the day, even though the security system only kicks in “after office hours”.
• The night time security guards greet me by name
• Not only that, but they’ve started offering me chocolate and biscuits
• My taxi driver informs me that I look very tired, and should go home earlier.

Anyway, I’m home now. Mark’s still not back. He’s been working even more than me. He even went in over the weekend. Poor boy.

I received another Burn Baby Burn package in the post, this time from Teejay. Teejay sent me not one, not two but three CDs. They all look fabulous. I’m very impressed. CD number one, titled “sleep is a poor substitute for caffeine” is playing at the moment. “Hunter” by Bjork. I love Bjork.

I’m cooking dinner. We’re having bringal stir fried in sambal sauce and chilli beancurd pork with rice. The bringal is finished, and the beancurd is simmering on the gas stove at the moment. The rice is bubbling away in the rice cooker. Mmmm.

Gotta go.

We did our grocery shopping at the supermarket in Tanglin Mall this weekend.

Usually we shop at our local NTUC Fairprice. It’s pretty cheap and it stocks all the basics. Sometimes we shop at the local Cold Storage, which is a bit more expensive, but carries a wider range of stuff and has nicer fruit and veg.

Tanglin Market is upmarket. It sells all sorts of goodies from overseas, and caters for the expat population who are willing to pay a premium for specialty items from “home”.

The breakfast cereal aisle at Tanglin Market is amazing. They have a whole aisle devoted to cereal! They sell four different varieties of Alpen! They stock Lucky Charms and Oreo Crunch and Cinnamon Life and Crunchy Nut Cornflakes. It’s impressive.

Cereal consumption is not prominent in the Singaporean daily diet. Local supermarkets tend to reflect this preference – most only have a tiny area on one aisle tucked away in the back of the shop reserved for cereal, and they only sell a handful of varieties. They run out of the good stuff quickly, so when you see what you want, you’d better buy in bulk, ’cause it won’t be back in stock for months. Seriously.

Despite these challenges, I am an unrepentant cereal eater. I bring cereal to work with me every day, and while my colleagues slurp down their fried bee hoon or hokkien mee noodles, I sit there shovelling down spoonfuls of cereal. My colleages think my tastes are rather strange.

“Cereal again!” they exclaim, “Don’t you get bored of eating cereal every day?”

I’ve tried explaining that I eat different types of cereal, much like they eat different types of noodles, but that doesn’t seem to help.

Tanglin Market is like a little slice of cereal heaven. I must have wandered up and down the aisle three or four times, gazing open-mouthed like a kid in a candy shop. I was looking for Shreddies or regular flavour Life but alas, they were out of stock (surprise, surprise!). In the end I came away with a big box of Cinnamon & Spice oatmeal some Just Right, and the intention to return again soon in search of more exotic cereal goodness.

I’ve got a few questions:

1) For those of you who skin your site, how do you handle your links? Do you have a common links file, or do you maintain each skin seperately or what? I’m trying to figure out what my options are so that the bits that are common to every skin (eg the aortal link) remain the same without having to specifically update each skin template whenever I make a change. Suggestions?

2) Why does everything look so god awful in Netscape? And why do people still use Netscape anyway?

3) What on earth happened to time this weekend? It seems to have flown by. What’s with that? I want a refund. Or better still, Monday off.