my child is unique :: just like everyone else's

Everyone knows that their kids are uniquely remarkable.

But it never hurts to get a bit of proof.

The Boss is now six. Which is reason enough for me to get misty-eyed and nostalgic this weekend, but chronic sleep-deprivation and a couple of glasses of celebratory prosecco certainly sped things along.

While I was looking for something totally vital and utterly lost yesterday, I stumbled upon this farewell letter from her Singaporean preschool teacher. It sums up everything we loved about our years there. It was such an affectionate, happy, joyous time, and I can't believe another year has passed!

Watch out blubberers, this one might make you wobble (or maybe it was just my delicate emotional state). It's awfully nice to have someone else say this sort of thing about your child (ignoring the strong probability that she writes the same letter to all the children).

In the past two years you have amazed me with your wisdom and knowledge. You are my sunshine girl who slowly became the apple of my eye. You have matured beautifully this year, more confident and self-dependant. It is indeed a joy to teach you.

You are doing extremely well in the understanding of phonics. I am confident that with proper guidance and support, you will soon embark on the reading journey.

It really breaks my heart to see you leave Singapore. Alas! We will not be able to see our little bud blooming into a beautiful flower. However you will always reside in the core of my heart and we have no doubt that you will be a pleasant addition to any institution you join.

Already missing you immensely, your class teacher, March 2012.

I know. I KNOW. Some teachers are worth their weight in marshmallows aren't they?

but baby it's cold out inside

Having only paid fleeting visits to freezing climes over the past few years (each time singing "yah boo sucks frosticles, we're catching the next SQ flight back the poolside" over our shoulders at the top of our lungs) we've forgotten what Winter is like.

Turns out it's like this:

1. Bloody cold outside the house.
2. Can't afford carpet on the ground floor. Artic breezes sweep up through the exposed floorboards.
3. Ergo, bloody cold inside the house as well.

And the worst bit? You know that thing where your sock wrinkles down inside your welly boot and ends up snarled around your toes, and it only ever happens on one foot which almost makes it more annoying? You know that thing? Yeh well, that never happened in Singapore.

We're starting to miss the sunshine a lot, and there are reminders everywhere. The Boss' new best friends at school are Malaysian and Indonesian. I've been reading the beautiful Booker nominated Garden of evening mists by Tan Twan Eng, and I'm craving a fatty bowl of mee with deep fried wonton from my favourite hawker. (Those last two aren't related in any way.)

So in an effort to avoid "grass-is-always-greener" syndrome (something in which I'm prone to wallow like the grumpy hippo that I am), let's focus on the great things about being at home in the cold. Because there are lots of them (and secretly we're thoroughly enjoying this autumnal babymoon).

The best things are, in no particular order:

1. There are no cockroaches or poisonous snakes.
2. My Mum can come to stay without spending a grand.
3. I can have beautiful discontinued wool like Araucania Toconao in my hands within two days.

Isn't this sweater (inspired by Ginny's one) going to look awsomesauce in that wool?

Joining in with Yarn Along and once again seeking your help: Does anyone know a mail order source of Araucania Toconao Multy in shade 406? (AKA the most beautiful yarn ever made what were they THINKING discontinuing it?) And what did Araucania replace Toconao with in their range? I can only order online and I can't be sure what comes up similar to the Toconao. Thanks for any hints  x

47th party menu :: happy birthday Singapore

As holiday celebrations go, this may be a bit niche, but please indulge a big ol' heavily pregnant girl for just a few minutes.

Singapore celebrates its birthday on the 9th August every year with National Day. As an outside observer over our past few green-card-holding years, it appeared to be a display of military might (think Edinburgh Military Tattoo x 10), combined with an outpouring of National flag-waving pride (think Queenie's jubilee), and a great excuse for family gatherings that veer dangerously close to woozy schmaltz (think Hogmanay). Singapore's a young nation, with a harrowing twentieth-century history, and a hugely varied population (both in race and religion), so celebrating a common patriotism actually has a critically important role to play. National Day is wonderful.

In addition (for me at least) National Day marks the start of an endless season of festivities. One set of decorations, lights and school projects barely makes way for the next from now until next Easter: mid-autumn (lantern) festival looms, followed by the roaring arrival of the Formula 1, Deepavali, Christmas, New Year, Chinese New Year... and many more besides.

And so, thousands of miles away, in a suburban Scottish garden on a warm weekend afternoon, we tried to bring a little bit of the National Day fun home. There were lanterns, Good Morning towels and bags of kopi-O. There were little girls in cheong-sam and sarong kebaya, and little boys in merlion t-shirts. There were henna tattoos and faces painted with the Singapore flag. My hormonal nostalgia levels were cranked up to the max. But naturally, the most important element was the food (and whether my new kitchen would stand its first major test). And since nearly all the food was gleaned from the pages of some most delightful blogs, I thought I'd share some pictures and links with you here.

If you need to cater for 10 adults and 10 grazing kids, this menu works - I've done the test drive so that you don't have to!

Double quantities of these braised pig cheeks from North 19, using divine meat from Donald Russell online. This was an absolute triumph. I wasn't brave enough to attempt genuine cha siu bao, but if there was ever a wonderful, effortless second best, then this is it. 24 hours marinading in the fridge and then four hours in a low oven. With the gravy seeping into a white bread roll, it was simply delicious. Not authentically Singaporean perhaps, but I should've made double the double quantity. This recipe is a keeper.

marinade for the pig cheeks

And on the side? A huge double-quantity sized jar of Shu Han's Nonya achar. Now this really is Singaporean. And it was the absolute winner with the three guests who had actually lived in Singapore - proving that their spice tolerance has been well and truly recalibrated. My husband has been eating the leftovers straight from the jar since the last guests left.

pig cheeks on the left, achar in the yellow bowl

On the BBQ were three times the quantity of this Singaporean satay recipe from Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan's website (author of the wonderful "Tiger in the Kitchen" - a beautiful memoir of Singaporean home cooking). Spicy and delicious and served with hacked up cucumbers and red onions.

satay and braised cheeks

A few sausages on the grill, salads brought by friends, platters of watermelon, BBQ pineapple skewers, and cones of Jamie Oliver's frozen mango yoghurt covered all the bases.

Jamie's frozen mango yoghurt, from his 30 minute book

And once everyone had eaten their fill and gone home? We were, in true Straits style, famished! For more food, more festivals, and more Singapore.

Majulah Singapura!

culinary (con)fusion? rhubarb pork noodles

I don’t know of many people who’ve been to Singapore and don’t like it. The ones who scoff at its well-reported intolerance for everything that interferes with its harmonie communitaire – like chewing gum, litter or Western pluralist democracy – have never been there. Despite what my Guardian-reading brain dictates, my heart commands me otherwise: I love this place.

John Malathronas, Singapore Swing

Six weeks out, and we’re really starting to miss Singapore. The cool order of our little apartment, the convenience of our gorgeous swimming pool, the pure unbridled deliciousness of the food.

And so this weekend we decided to bring a little bit of sunny Singapore to dreich old Scotland, in the form of a rather nice bit of pork belly. My inlaws were staying. They happen to be hopeless with chopsticks and have a pathological fear of fat – even the slightest hint of rind turns them into picky toddlers – so this was going to be a test for them. But the rest of us fully intended to enjoy every mouthful.

Ever on the lookout for recipes to use up my triffid-like rhubarb patch, I decided to brave this peculiar Jamie Oliver recipe: hot and sour rhubarb and crispy pork with noodles. A friend had found it on the internet and almost dared me to give it a go. Out came the chopsticks, the noodle bowls, the Chinese spoons and the cleaver: pork belly is something that I want to do properly.

I wanted to write just a short blog post about this recipe because, if your rhubarb patch is getting out of control like mine, you must give this a go as an alternative to the ubiquitous rhubarb crumble. Not only does it contain the most obscure ingredient ever in the form of “interesting cresses” (sorry Jamie, I could only find cress cresses, but I’ll keep searching) but the rhubarb marinade cooks down into a spicy, tart, savoury, utterly fabulous sauce, almost like a mild rhubarb sambal - you could cook and jar this for so many different things (I have rhubarb ketchup with lovely sausages in mind).

The twice-cooked pork belly is obviously fabulous (except if you’re my MIL who refused to eat any – ho hum). An hour and a half roasting in the marinade followed by a quick, smoky wok fry rendered it both crispy and melting soft (as I set off the smoke alarm my husband rubbed his hands together shouting “wok hei!” in delight). And who knew that rhubarb and fresh coriander is a match made in culinary heaven? J-to-the-O-Dawg, we salute you. Especially after your lovely interview in the Observer Food Monthly at the weekend.

Totally bonkers recipe, totally seasonal major ingredient from the end of the garden, totally fabulous dinner.

Rounded off with cones of mango frozen yoghurt from JO’s 30 minute meals book (if you have the book and haven’t made this yet, you’re not going to believe how good it is), we all felt a little essence of sunny Singapore in our patch of grey British sky.

project 52: a great leap

Well, the time has come. We're not even close to being ready. But even my hairdresser has banished the faux sun-kissed blonde from my locks in preparation for our return to the UK, so there's no turning back now.

Moving to Singapore in 2010 was a great leap for us, a family who had never lived abroad, and knew not a thing or a body in this tiny island in the South China Sea. Honestly, I'm not even sure that we knew it was an island in the South China Sea. But our great leap paid off a hundred times over and we've had the most wonderful experience.

the morning the packers came, no-one can possibly need this much kitchen ware... can they?

eighty one boxes later...

I had planned lots of posts detailing our Singapore highlights, so that I will remember them for more than about two days after we leave. The best places to eat, the best places to shop, the best places to drink coffee and our favourite little hidden, off-the-radar places to drink cocktails. But time has run out, so I guess it's suffice to say: if you're stopping over in Singapore for any reason and don't know your way about, leave me message and I'll give you the lowdown... if I can remember it.

In short, in Singapore I have learned:

1. how to stay presentable while eating noodle soup with chopsticks while wearing a white shirt
2. that there is a caveat to lesson one: choose your noodles wisely. Ramen or wanton mee = childsplay, pho and udon = trickier, la mian = almost impossible, and laksa = don't even try it, especially if you have to share your table with a stranger (which is quite usual in Singapore). You will ruin that busy businessman's shirt for ever 
3. that it's curiously impossible to avoid getting a bit weepy at the National Day Parade song - even when it's not your own nation
4. how to design and draw fine jewellery
5. more fascinating and heartbreaking history than during my whole previous 30 years - if you've never heard of the Fall of Singapore, I urge you to read Tanamera by Noel Barber, or A Different Sky by Meira Chand
6. that hor fun is a lip-lickingly indulgent dinner, not some kind of illegal activity, and nobody will snigger when you ask for some
7. that Kampong Glam is the oldest, most historic and most stunning part of the city, and not a specialist nightclub
8. that I love roti prata more than it loves me (plate full of fried lardy dough with curry sauce, indigestion much? Trust me, it has to be tried to be believed.)
9. to take an umbrella - always take an umbrella - always
10. that no matter how different your surroundings, you will remain, fundamentally, the same. So there's no point in saying "I'll do more xxx once I've moved house" or "I'd make more time for yyy if we lived in this place or that situation". Personally, I've found that my habits, my preferences, my style, my flaws and my abundant neuroses are exactly the same in Singapore as they are in Scotland. Enriched perhaps, with wider horizons certainly, but I haven't morphed into the smoothly tanned, svelte, stylish, relaxed, tropical uber-femme that I had in mind two years ago. Turns out, I'm still me. Bummer eh?!

In Singapore I have not:

1. learned to love seafood - I really wish I had
2. decided what the national sport is; between shopping and eating, it's just too close to call
3. learned a single Chinese character or Mandarin phrase, much to my daughter's amusement
4. lost a single pound; despite the onsite swimming pool and gym the scales remain steadfast (which I actually consider no small achievement given points 1, 2, 6 and 8 above)
5. got to the bottom of the concept of "heatiness", a subject which I find endlessly fascinating
6. had my eyebrows threaded, as my hairdresser assures me that it would make me cry
7. eaten a durian
8. learned to love the wildlife - ants, snakes, roaches, rats, monkeys, countless tail-less feral cats - I shan't miss even the very idea of you
9. taken any of the photography classes I intended to - d'oh
10. acclimatised; between March and October air con has been my most constant friend, albeit a fickle, cranky and financially demanding one who needs endless supervision and medical attention

So long Singa-ling, ta ta to the tai tai life, it's been fun... sniff.

calm

January and February have been the calm before the storm of 2012.

In March, it all kicks off for us. Leaving our home of two years in Singapore, moving back to our "real" home in the UK - a process that will take nearly two months in total. Endless, endless paperwork mountains to be climbed. Making our empty house feel like home again, and starting from scratch in our big, heartbreakingly neglected garden. Contemplating the absence of Mister Breadwinner for looooong periods (sadly, this year our bread must come from Continental Europe it seems). Starting "big" school. Much-ignored, long-overdue and cripplingly expensive maintenance to our house. And numerous other challenges that make my eyes pop out of my head, some that I can anticipate, many that I'm sure I can't.

But no matter what happens this year, I'll always be happy that I got to spend a very early Monday morning in February watching the sun rise over a gradually wakening Singapore from the top of the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, looking out over the highest swimming pool in the world. It was very calm indeed. That breadwinner, he certainly knows how to give his girls a treat.

about 6.30am using a very long exposure and a helpfully placed wall (got to get a tripod one of these days!)

snapped with my iphone just before breakfast. she stayed there a long time in the very cold water, it almost looked like she was meditating at times.

Linking up with the wonderful Rebecca at Bumbles and Light, Kristi of Live and Love Out Loud, Faith of Sweet Violet and Alicia of Project Alicia, who are together hosting the Poetic Winter Photography Challenge. Click on the button below or go to their Pinterest board to check out the other lovely pictures.

Previous posts in the Poetic Winter series:
Solitude
Passion

passion

Fridays are busy with photo challenges this month. And though I didn't manage last week's Poetic Winter prompt (which was 'warmth' and should have been easy, since it's warm here all the time, d'uh) I really wanted to try and take part in the final two weeks.

But like my p52: true love post earlier today, I really struggled to find a photo to illustrate passion in a romantic sense. I think it's the Valentine's overload this week, it kind of puts me off. So instead, I took this photo of some elderly guys (all simply known as Uncles in Singapore) at the outdoor checkerboard tables in Kreta Ayer Square.

I love this scene. Who knows what the central character is feeling so passionate about. Maybe he's a cabby bemoaning the fare hikes and new underground networks that are ruining his trade. Maybe he's a noodle hawker feeling the pinch from ever-increasing stall rents. Perhaps he resents the new Chinatown Visitor Centre imposing on the square, certainly the checkerboards have been slightly sidelined. Maybe he's just losing the game or having a laugh at the expense of one of his friends. But one thing's for sure; none of his pals are paying the slightest attention to his outburst. You can imagine them thinking, "old Lim grumbling again. Plus ca change.".

there's a nifty little filter in Photoshop called surface blur, which perhaps I overdid a bit (like all psd newbies tend to do!) it kind of
gently flattened/smoothed out the whole image except the central character's face (by chance). Helps to vignette a bit I thought.

Now, just in case you're interested, I wasn't sure about the rules regarding publishing photos of strangers. But here's a marvelous explanation from Darcy at my3boybarians. So, sorry if this happens to be your actual Uncle, but I think this falls into the totally acceptable category because I was just standing in a square taking a picture of a public scene. Interesting stuff anyway, and a great simple explanation.

Linking up with the wonderful Rebecca at Bumbles and Light, Kristi of Live and Love Out Loud, Faith of Sweet Violet and Alicia of Project Alicia, who are together hosting the Poetic Winter Photography Challenge. Click on the button below or go to their Pinterest board to check out the other lovely pictures.

solitude

If I understood correctly, Chinese New Year was simply about celebrating the good stuff. Family reunion, reconciliation, wealth, health, happiness, luck, longevity, joy, blessings. It was celebrated with generous gifts, lavish gluttony, ear-splitting music, and red and gold adorning every surface. Chinese New Year was IN YOUR FACE.

So I guess the antithesis to Chinese New Year could be encapsulated by one word. And coincidentally that word is the first theme for the Poetic Winter photo challenge: solitude.

Solitude. It's pretty hard to come by at this time of year, when CNY coincides with The Boss' birthday (and with Singapore being the most densely populated country in the world anyway!). But here are two shots that illustrate solitary moments amidst the festivities. CNY was celebrated by millions upon millions of people worldwide, which somehow makes these images feel all the more solitary.

i seem to have a fixation with lantern photos

table for one?

Linking up with the wonderful Rebecca at Bumbles and Light, Kristi of Live and Love Out Loud, Faith of Sweet Violet and Alicia of Project Alicia, who are together hosting the Poetic Winter Photography Challenge. Click on the button below or go to their Pinterest board to check out the other lovely pictures.

gong xi fa cai!

I don't know for sure, but I suspect that very few Singaporeans resolve to lose weight on January 1st - the Gregorian New Year. There would be so little point, given that only three or four weeks later, Chinese New Year arrives with all its feasting, fireworks and general merriment.

At my friend's house last week, our pot of tea was accompanied by a dozen pineapple tarts, a whole box of Nyonya love letters (sweet wafer rolls), and soft sweet brown jelly cakes (kueh) coated with grated fresh coconut. Sublime, and entirely homemade by various friends and relatives. She waved her infuriatingly slender, elegant arm in the air and said "don't even think about holding back, it's New Year, resistance is futile!" Well, I didn't need to be told twice.

To give you a bit of the CNY atmosphere, here are some of our recent photos (do not adjust your screen, unbelievably, these red photos are straight out of camera!) Imagine music blaring at full-throttle, acrid smoke from barrels of roasting chestnuts, the taste of your takeaway siew bao as you amble along, surrounded by traders selling every imaginable food; cartloads of melon seeds, durian pastries, fried chicken feet, bak kwa, frog porridge, rambutan tea, salted preserved ducks... and of course, a multitude of the all-important pineapple tarts.

in case you were wondering, it's the year of the dragon!

Christmas decorations are for amateurs, THIS is decoration!

On the evening we were out taking all these photos, we tried a dish called ah balling - rice balls in peanut soup. I believe that it's actually a traditional mid-autumn festival dish but you seem to be able to get it at this time of year too. In fact a quick wiki search reveals that the spherical balls in the round bowl symbolise family togetherness, so perhaps that's why the stall was doing a roaring trade this week (a big element of lunar New Year is family reunion).

The reason it caught my eye is that, back in November, Dom from Belleau Kitchen challenged all his Random Recipe disciples to share a vegetarian soup recipe. I was convinced that someone in that clever bunch would come up with a sweet soup, but alas, it was not to be. Well, ah balling is a genuine and authentic sweet soup and really easy to make. So after eating it at the nightmarket, I did my usual: search for at least half a dozen recipes on line, and then combine all the most sensible elements to make my own version.

 ah balling
makes enough for about 6-8 people

a big packet of peanuts (NOT salted) about 200g but no need for accuracy
2tsp bicarbonate of soda
250ml soy milk
100g caster sugar
frozen tang yuan or mochi (glutinous rice balls, we like the ones filled with peanut best)

• soak the peanuts in a bowl of water with the bicarb (apparently this helps to soften them) for at least two or three hours
• wash the peanuts a few times in a sieve, chop very roughly (you still want big bits) and put them in a pan of boiling water - about a litre
• simmer for a couple more hours with the lid at a tilt, the peanuts need to be soft and the soup will be cloudy
• stir in the sugar and soy milk and bring back to the boil
• drop your frozen mochi into the soup, when they rise to the surface after a couple of minutes, they're ready (we find two or three per person to be enough - the five per bowl at the night market beached us!) Sprinkle in some crushed peanuts for a bit of crunch.

It's sweet and hot and peanuty, but honestly, I don't think this will become a regular family staple. You never know though, perhaps next CNY in a frosty city far, far away, I'll feel like hanging up my red decorations and hosting a nostalgic Singaporean supper. This would make an authentic and unique dessert and, if served one rice ball per person in tiny porcelain bowls with Chinese spoons, I think it could actually be quite elegant... providing I don't unwittingly buy fluorescent pink rice balls next time!!!

GONG XI FA CAI lovely readers!

it's the final countdown

Now that all the New Year shenanigans are out of the way (well, except that we're only just warming up for Chinese New Year, more on that in a week or two!) we're on the countdown to our moving home date. Not that we have an actual date yet, but if there's one thing we've learned from our stay in Singapore, it's how to cope with not knowing whether we're coming or going. Literally.

The move is daunting and invigorating in equal measure. How will I ever inventory all our belongings for the container ship? How will we survive the British weather? How will Pontian wonton mee deprivation feel? Will the tenants have pruned my raspberries? (Or will I get to enjoy my favourite frosty-morning, steaming-cuppa, saturday job of the whole year - eeek! I can't wait!)

In addition, it means that all the little scarves and sweaters I'm making for The Boss will soon be in actual daily use (as opposed to may-be-useful-at-some-ill-defined-time-in-the-future-when-it-may-or-may-not-still-fit, a concise description for everything else I've made over the past two years). I wonder if all my little masterpieces will stand up to the rigours of a Scottish spring?

My project this week is inspired by Yarn Along hostess Ginny in a multitude of ways. I loved her daughters' cap-sleeved sweaters so much that I made three in the run up to Christmas for various little girls. Last week, I admired Ginny's striped sweater for another of her children so I decided to combine the two concepts - a striped cap-sleeved sweater. And the bonus is that it's going to be a great stash-buster, using up three lone balls of cashmerino which, luckily, look really pretty together.

I'm reading next to nothing at the moment as I've run out of books and don't want to buy too many more before the packing begins (especially because books are at least twice the price here). I'm dipping in and out of the Guardian Review Book of Short Stories, which I thought was a slightly niche Christmas gift (and if I may dare to utter the ungrateful words: from the cover design and binding it looks like there's an outside chance it was a freebie...) but is redeemed by being totally charming. And frankly, since we're on the topic of curious gifts, nothing beats the gift-wrapped packet of plastic ring-binder pockets. And guess what? I got both of the aforementioned from the same person! (What do I say in the thank you card?) Oh yes chums, where peculiar presents are concerned I'm the self-appointed winner this year.

So while you picture me basking in the glory of that accolade, we're off to indulge in the noisy, raucous, crimson and gilt over-excitement that is the run-up to the year of the dragon. Anything to escape the reality of imminent migration...

it's been Wan week...

For the uninitiated, Chef Wan is the TV food king round our neck of the woods. Always cheerful, exuberant and energetic, Malaysian and other South-East Asian dishes are clearly his defining passion. If you're an eagle-eyed Rick Stein fan, you might remember Chef Wan from a hilarious cooking lesson in the Far Eastern Odyssey series, in which I think I remember Rick Stein describing him as "Malaysia's Delia and Jamie combined", or something to that effect.

I got a set of mini Chef Wan cookbooks for Christmas so when Dom, our gracious Random Recipe host, challenged us to cook something randomly from our newest cookbooks I immediately began salivating over all the exotic possibilities: asam chicken, beef rendang, mutton curry... chickity China the Chinese chicken, have a drumstick and your brain stops tickin' (sorry, can NOT get that song out of my head, and now you won't be able to either).

Alas, it was not to be. We randomly picked Spiced Pumpkin Muffins, and one Wan week into the New Year, me and The Boss whiled away a rainy Singapore afternoon making them. And I must say, they're very delicious and a lot like carrot cake, as you might imagine (but not in the least like a Singaporean carrot cake which is a very different kettle of ill-chosen metaphors altogether). You roast and mash the pumpkin before making something very similar to a basic (Western) carrot cake batter and throw in the pumpkin and half a cup of chopped walnuts at the end. Simples. But perhaps not as simple as an actual carrot cake.

Now I'm off to drool over the photos of curries and fried food on the other pages to decide what to make next.

this was taken on a plain white countertop, but it looks all cool and superimposed!
i'm starting to love the flash on my camera, after giving it a really hard time for ages

word of the day: bokeh

I keep reading this word: bokeh. It means nothing to me and I don't even know how to pronounce it. I see that people often use it when they're praising a nature photograph ("that bokeh is stunning!")... maybe it's some kind of foliage plant? And then Darcy at my3boybarians launched a Holiday bokeh party. Hmm, okay, probably not foliage then. So, for anyone else in the dark, here's what wiki says:

In photography, bokeh is the blur, or the aesthetic quality of the blur, in out-of-focus areas of an image, or "the way the lens renders out-of-focus points of light"... /... Bokeh occurs for parts of the scene that lie outside the depth of field. Photographers sometimes deliberately use a shallow focus technique to create images with prominent out-of-focus regions

Okaaaay, I think I'm with you. But take it slowly, I'm a novice. Oh, and apparently, you pronounce it either like a "bow-kay" of flowers or like a questionable Scottish heave (a boke eh?).

So I got my camera out yesterday to try and learn about bokeh. My aim was to try and make some appropriately tropical Christmas pictures if possible. I tried for some bokeh caused (at least in part) by the brightness of the sun (as opposed to lights/candles), and I also aimed to capture some uniquely contrasting hot weather aspects of Christmas (eg strelizia against shopping mall window backdrop... still working on that one). After more than 100 weird attempts, I think I got some bokeh.

my coffee table: long-distance cards and sun-bathing baubles

ice creams all round while out to see the Christmas lights - not a scarf or a mince pie in sight

So there you go, new word for the day: bokeh. I'm going to have to keep working on it (obviously!).

And if like me, you're totally clueless, I've distilled some of the tutorials I've read into the following:

• set your aperture as wide open as it'll go
• focus on a relatively close up object
• make sure there's something all a-sparkle and a-glitter in the distance
• repeat at least a hundred times on random varying settings to see what comes out nice
• acknowledge that it's likely much more complicated than this to get a great shot, but accept that it'll do for now, and friendly peeps might leave me more hints and tips below...

OR...
Go over to Darcy's amazing website on December the 8th to see how the real pros do holiday bokeh - I just know it's going to be STUNNING.

food bloggers unplugged!

Lovely Shu Han tagged me in this food bloggers unplugged thingummy, which is kind of annoying actually, because she's one of my favourite food bloggers and I would definitely have tagged her back given the chance. Go and see her site if you need some tropical spicy food in your life (and who doesn't?). Anyhoo, this is the first time I've done something like this, so here goes... (bearing in mind that I don't consider myself a food blogger, I just happen to eat rather a lot, so food has found itself being one of my main topics of conversation).

1. What, or who, inspired you to start a blog?
A few things.

• feeling a need to document our Expat adventure while fully aware that I cannot stick with a written diary for more than two weeks
• my friend at PDNFTA who told me it was fun
• smart-arsed vanity and a liking for words
• the "opt-in" social networking option as opposed to the people-I-knew-at-school-and-didn't-much-care-for-then-and-haven't-seen-for-twenty-years-ramming-it-down-yer-neck "opt-out" variety. If you know what I mean.

2. Who is your foodie inspiration?
Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall wins hands down. Man's a genius.

3. Your greasiest, batter-splattered food/drink book is?
A plastic lever-arch file containing all my clippings and notes that I'm in the (long drawn-out) process of sorting out. I use it as much as all my other cookbooks put together.

4. Tell us about the best thing you have eaten in another country, where was it, what was it?
A bowl of noodles in Kyoto last Christmas (near the corner of the road that leads up to Kiyumizu-dera Temple). The restaurant (whose name I didn't even know at the time, since it wasn't written in English) had one long table, about a dozen seats, and about six items on the menu. I had udon in soup with wild greens and two pieces of inari sushi. It was sublime. 

5. Another food blogger's table you'd like to eat at?
Easy one, Dr Leslie Tay of ieatishootipost is a legend in our household. He guides our culinary journey through what must be the most complex and extraordinary foodie country in the world. I'd ask him to give me a roti prata-making lesson, and then I'd ask him approximately three gazillion other questions about Singaporean food.

6. What is the one kitchen gadget you would ask Santa for this year (money no object of course)?
I'd do (almost) anything for a Kitchenaid countertop mixer. But I'd settle for a Dualit hand mixer. I've heard tell of a mysterious and marvellous new invention recently too - an induction hob with a hollowed out area for your wok - GENIUS! I think I would spend a lot of time stroking it.

7. Who taught you how to cook?
The Guardian/Observer newspaper columns circa 2000-2010. Possibly my Mum instilled a few basic skills before that.

8. I'm coming to you for dinner, what is your signature dish?
In Singapore, nothing. We're going out because you'd be crazy to want to eat at home. In Scotland, I'd probably make you green masala chicken and stuffed peppers (recipes from the Guardian columns by Vicky Bhogal who is amazeballs). With a bit of dhal.

9. What is your guilty food pleasure?
I could probably eat my own body weight in marshmallows.

10. Reveal something about yourself that others would be surprised to learn?
I can't poach an egg to save my life. I don't drive on principle... and because I'm really crap at it. I've done many things to earn an honest wage, from busking to root canal therapy. One of the most painful things I've ever done was, many years ago, to spend a day dressed as a maiko (apprentice geisha). Those girls are hard as nails.

And now, to tag 5 others!
Okay, apologies to these here listed if they've already taken part in this event (or decided to pass on it - that's okay too). Here are some food bloggers I really like:

• Please Do Not Feed The Animals cos she's the loveliest gourmet I know
• Sharkey Oven Gloves who writes a lovely, thoughtful blog
• Me, My Food and I , what this boy doesn't know about chocolate cakes isn't worth knowing, and he knows about lots of other tasty stuff too
• Joyful Baker whose recipes WORK, I've tried 'em
• The Little Teochew whose blog I can't get enough of because it's about Singapore's wonderful food (and I love the story behind the blog's name)

shades of autumn: finale

All good things must come to an end. The beautiful blogs Bumbles & Light, Live & Love Out Loud and Project Alicia have been hosting a photography challenge based around the shades of autumn. As I've said every week for the past couple of months, at only 70-ish miles from the equator there's no traditional northern hemisphere change in the seasons here in Singapore. I thought this might be an interesting exercise in sharing the shades of a tropical Asian autumn; lush, vibrant and dripping with sweat colour...

And while I haven't been able to indulge in the sumptuous, cosy, enveloping autumn of blazing leaves, pumpkin patches or first frosts, it has certainly been fun showing you around autumn in this part of the world. I've loved the enthusiastic feedback, and I'm so proud to have had a picture chosen each week for the Shades of Autumn Pinterest board. Okay, so I'll admit that I don't really understand Pinterest, but to have been "pinned" feels pretty cool (no... yes... maybe? Fill me in!). What I do know is that the SoA Pinterest board is a seriously beautiful place that I go to often. I commend it to you.

So what to do for the last week of the project? Well, I'll start with my personal challenge winner: this sweet shot, taken at the Marina Barrage here in Singapore, was selected by Rebecca, Alicia and Kristi as one of their top pics of the week for "red" at the end of October.

Now I LOVE that this was recognised by our wonderful hosts, despite its flaws, not least because it's the only photo I included of The Boss during the whole project.

But, maternal pride aside, I think one of my favourite shots of the season was taken back in week one: green week. A torrential thunderstorm had just ended, hence the fallen, dripping frangipane flower. (Yup, it's the one I've tried to make it into a banner; but I know I've still a little work to do there. Hey, I'm no designer... oh, you can tell huh!?)

This flower and these colours and that rain captures Singapore in a nutshell: beautiful, vibrant, and usually wet. It perfectly illustrates this two-year adventure of ours that will soon draw to a close.

Since this project has helped me to see what a beautiful rainbow-coloured city I live in, lets see if we can't make a SoA paint chart for finale week...

And, last but not least, I wanted to show you a sooc picture that didn't fit into any of the colour categories (some of you have seen it before, soz!). Strictly speaking this wasn't taken during the autumn, but I was amazed to have it printed in the October issue of a glossy magazine as a competition runner up - so a photographic success of autumn rather than a shade of autumn! I didn't win a prize or anything like that but it was a major creative ego boost, and I love showing it to anyone who'll sit still for long enough.

 

I'm itching to see what everyone else posts for SoA Finale Week. And in the meantime, for many, many more pictures, drop by my green, yellow, orange, red, purple, brown & white posts from previous weeks!

Thanks for a wonderful project Rebecca, Alicia and Kristi, I've enjoyed every. last. minute. xx

shades of autumn: white

The beautiful blogs Bumbles & Light, Live & Love Out Loud and Project Alicia are hosting a photography challenge based around the shades of autumn. You can find out all the details by clicking on the button below.

At only 70-ish miles from the equator there's no traditional northern hemisphere change in the seasons here in Singapore. I thought this might be an interesting exercise in sharing the shades of a tropical Asian autumn; lush, vibrant and dripping with sweat colour...

...except for this week. Which is white week. Warning: there will be no snow, no frost, no ice in my photos. But there is white EVERYWHERE in this rainbow city. Perhaps it's all the white that makes the colours stand out all the more vibrantly. I'm afraid I have gone a little overboard on the number of pics this week - sorry - I did rather enjoy white, and it is the penultimate week after all! I found white an interesting challenge and quickly realised that, for me, it was important to have colour in each shot, even just a damp patch on a wall or the stamen of a flower. The flash of colour tells my brain that I'm looking at a white colour photo rather than a B&W.

This whole SoA project forced me to acknowledge a few things, the first being what an incredibly beautiful place I live in. I knew that before, but I didn't go searching for it in the way that have been this autumn. And the second thing is how much I love buildings. I'm completely mesmerised by them. Too bad I'm too old to follow in my Dad's architect footsteps (seven years at uni - pfff, seriously!).

So here are some of the whites to be found in Singapore this autumn. Kicking off, as usual, with some buildings.

living here has taught me, above all, that conservation needn't be conservative
(oops - that kindof suggests I live actually HERE, which I don't! Probably about $20million SGD short!)

say what you like about the colonialists, they knew a thing or two about decorative plasterwork

the modern city is pretty spectacular too

holland village even has its own windmill

when out and about with a camera, I've learnt to always look up

I've also discovered a real passion for overexposed white heat. The photos which follow are hard to look at for too long, and you can't really make out the details... EXACTLY like a sunny day here in Singapore. They make you want to dive into the nearest shady corner. I know that technically I've forced my camera to take "bad" photos here, but the feeling I get from looking at these pictures is viscerally evocative. (Can something be viscerally evocative?)

faded neon

sizzling hot in Haji Lane

the Sultan Mosque dazzling in the sun

what a lovely wall

And a few randoms others...

you see, without a flash of colour, it's hard to believe this is a colour photo, right?
He's one of the wonderful lions outside the Bank of China - I love these guys!

I can't explain why I love this picture so much. It's a water carrier hanging up outside Papa Palheta coffee house.

more lovely textures at Papa Palheta

And finally, some flowers.

the spider lilies outside our back door, in flower all year round

ooh I like my new macro attachment (need to work on the lighting though!)

look what happens when you put Picnik's cinema filter on a macro of a white flower!

See my green, yellow, orange, red, purple and brown photos from previous weeks here!