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For no good reason other than the fact that I am starving and wanted to look at photos of delicious food while I'm sitting here waiting in the office for my dinner to be delivered (let us not focus on the fact that I am having dinner in the office on a Friday night; it is most definitely NOT by choice, I am an unfortunate victim of the central bank's disregard for the notion of TGIF) .. I present a photo of delicious food.
So what if it's only two sticks of succulent tender meat on equally tender rice and couldn't possibly be more boring if it tried? Sometimes (and I'm looking at you when I say this, Coffee Bean, Theobroma and Mandarin Oriental), you do NOT have to use fancy schmancy monikers or dump a load of spices, fruits, cake varieties or chocolate on a plate for your food to be a-mazing. Sometimes all it takes is rice and meat and an empty stomach on a Friday evening for me to drool shamelessly at my desk. Also it helps that I am starving. STARVING, I TELL YOU!!!!
I need to ravage the snack cupboard now before my stomach attempts to eat itself.
I know, I know, I've already posted pictures of Cantonese Hor Fun on this blog but I felt the need to give due credit to the meal that singlehandedly rejuvenated my formerly-MIA appetite! That reignited my flames of hunger! That resurrected, ala Jesus, my will to eat! Oh fat noodles drowning in egg sauce while hanging out with chicken pieces and vegetables, you brought me back to life!
AND I didn't even feel sick after scarfing the entire plate of noodles. Nor did I have to run to the bathroom straight after eating, to do the number that comes after 1, like the person with whom I was eating (don't worry goosey I won't tell anyone it was you). Now THAT is a sign of a good meal. Or a hardy large intestine, I'm not sure which. The point is, now that I have hit bottom, lost my appetite, and regressed to talking about my intestinal fortitude, there is nowhere to go but up (up being more dessert eating). And all thanks to you my little hor fun. Also to you, banana fritters with vanilla ice cream.
My appetite has disappeared. I have no idea where it went or when it will return, but hopefully it will be soon or I will be in danger of wasting away. This is extremely bizarre. I am also aware that it is logically impossible for one to subsist on coffee and water and continue with one's life when one has not eaten for a few days but I have long since given up trying to decipher the workings of my all too complicated self. The most likely conclusion is that my heart really is in my stomach and if that is the correct conclusion, you better hope to God that you didn't break it because if I have forever lost the joy that comes with eating cake then I really will step down from my state of infinite magnanimousness and make you pay for what you've done to me.
Anyway! In memory of better, yummier, less dark and gloomy times... banoffee pies! Right now I love whipped cream more than men.
Damn you, Red Box karaoke and your buffet lunch special! I was coerced into attending because I: a) did not want to be a spoilsport partypooper, and b) did not really want to admit to my colleagues that I can't sing. Also reason c) (buffet for lunch! buffet for lunch!) factored into my decision making.
Sadly, neither the savoury courses nor the desserts were particularly remarkable (I don't even remember what I took a picture of but if I were to hazard a guess I'd say... coffee something, strawberry something, chocolate something, and mango something) but at least I had something to stuff into my mouth whenever the microphone was passed to me.
Even more sadly, I was eventually forced to sing. To Mariah Carey and Leona Lewis and Beyonce and Celine Dion songs. Yes, cruel coworkers, its not like those singers have ridiculously flexible voices and can hit ridiculous notes that I of the bullfrog singing voice cannot reach or anything. Luckily, most people I work with sound like bullfrogs (okay so I am mainly referring to the men, which just makes the fact that I sing like a bullfrog all the more stranger because I apparently have a high speaking voice... the point is I was not alone in my dissonant state) so the room sounded like a cacophonous tone deaf choir for about two hours last Thursday. A tone deaf choir with an affinity for the Carpenters and long deceased Chinese singers (my colleagues are old... and mostly Chinese) and the Spice Girls (I may have been the sole 80's baby in the room but I was the also the one holding the remote control).
