This Much I Know

(Thanks PP! Though ultimately traced back to the Observer)

Iman, Aspiring Dictator/Feta Cheese Lover, 24, Kuala Lumpur

- I miss blogging. Though I fell, and hard, for the seductive wiles of twitter, I miss having the freedom to ramble on for more than 140 characters at a time. I have thus returned in a prodigal-son-like manner. Little foodie blog, mama has come back! Cue fanfare and joyful anticipation... or maybe not, because I may get bored and stop doing this in about a week or so.

- I know blogs and twitter and myspace and facebook status updates are manifestations of how grossly narcissistic the human race has become, but my god I like writing random things and releasing them into the random spaces of the internet and I do not apologize for it. Also I am not GROSSLY narcissistic as I don't use facebook or myspace (anymore and at all, respectively), I am merely as harmlessly narcisstic as the next blogger/twitterer.

- The best comfort food is spaghetti bolognese. Though this may only apply to me, because that is the food I most associate with my childhood. And that, in turn, is because my sisters and I were brats who would not eat rice more than three nights a week and spaghetti was the easiest alternative food.

- Growing up is nothing like I thought it would be, and all the insecurities and flaws that I thought would magically disappear when I turned 21/started working/graduated college/moved to KL have instead been magically magnified. Dammit!

- The most important thing to have in the whole world is an open mind. The most important thing to know how to do in the whole world is how to balance your own opinions with keeping an open mind.

- I find it hard to forgive wilful ignorance paired with rude behaviour. I'll let it slide if you have the misfortune of being afflicted with one or the other, but I pretty much automatically hate you if you are both.

- Yell at pervert misogynist douchebags on the LRT, because if you do not, the regret will haunt you forever. Also they may be perving on some other unsuspecting person that they may not have been perving on if your yelling had successfully scarred them for life.

- To-do lists make everything easier, more manageable, and will save you from jumping off Level 37 of Petronas Twin Tower 2 due to stress. When in doubt, list it out.

- Running in heels is one of the most useful talents a woman can have. Applying make-up in a moving car with only the aid of a compact mirror is another. I consider it a huge achievement that I have mastered them both, and yes, I say this in all seriousness.

- I am (evidently) not great at this whole This Much I Know thing, because I don't think I know anything of great consequence, but I do know that everyone would go crazy with the chaotic state of the world unless they kept their eye on the ball. Find your ball, and keep your eye there. Mine is a goose who is a crankypants in the morning, but I graciously overlook that as he performs his ball function.

- Everything is kismet, and if that thought doesn't make you feel don't-worry!-be-happy! and a-okay, then the last resort is always dessert.

Cantonese Hor Fun, Banana Fritters; Madam Kwan's

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.

French Toast; Cafe Soho, New York

Brunch, or, as I like to call it, brizzunch, is my favourite meal, in theory and in practice. What's not to love? Having brunch automatically means you have slept in and thus missed having breakfast, so it is reasonable to assume that if you start the day with brunch, you are having a lazy day rife with afternoon naps and mindless channel surfing; plus you are pigging out and get to have a meal that is more substantial than breakfast yet is usually just as substantial as lunch... but is bundled up into one easy package! Like two for the price of one!


Brunch is that sexy forbidden love-child of the more granola (literally and metaphorically) Breakfast and the efficient workaholic Lunch. Like I know breakfast gets all this hype and rep for being "important" and "healthy", but my contrarian nature causes me to reject authority and "what is good for me", so adjectives like "important" and "healthy" make me want to pick an argument with whatever is being described in that way. In this instance the argument would go a little something like "Umm yo B-fast? So I know you're the first meal of the day and you fill an empty stomach but other than that, what's the appeal? If I wake up at 1pm and have my first meal of the day then you automatically become Lunch so obviously you're not really very clearly defined or distinct in your personality at all, I mean pick a persona and stick to it, dammit, because if you're that fickle then I'm sorry but I refuse to take you seriously. And while we're on the topic being described as "healthy" is kinda the food equivalent of someone being described as having a "nice personality and good sense of humour". In other words, it's bland and lacking and generic and if you were a person you'd probably be that awkward self-righteous nice guy sitting in the corner being like 'but I'm good for you, why don't you want to date me'.

"And Lunch, I don't want to date you either. Any mention of you is usually preceded by the words "business" or "quick", and sometimes I'd like to force feed you a chill pill and tell you to take life easy and slow down. You are always talking about work, and right after I see you, I have to go back to work and keep doing work although you invariably make me sleepy, which, honestly, is a little torturous. Yet you do this to me, like, five days a week. Logically, all signs point to you displaying signs of sadism. Sadism = Not Hot.


"So Brunch, I still like you best of all. You're slow and easy and languid. You can be savoury or sweet, or both! At the same time (case in point: French Toast and strawberries and bananas and way too much maple syrup)! You are exciting. You keep me on my toes. You also single-handedly evoked a love letter from me, which is pretty impressive. I mean, I don't care this passionately about most HUMAN BEINGS. You, my friend, are a keeper."

XOXOXOX & see you Saturday,
FEI FEI

Brunch; Primorivo Osterio, West Village, New York

After making the bold and completely unprovoked claim that New York houses the best food in the world, Danny fell under some pressure to prove he wasn't just talking out of his ass. And then we had brunch in the West Village and all of a sudden it DID turn out to be true because I finished (honest-to-God licked-the-plate-squeaky-clean finished) my first meal in New York.

(Danny's) Steak & Eggs

(My) Eggs Norwegian

(NO MORE/Note the lack of) Eggs Norwegian

And someone is addicted to cappucinos and won't admit it...

And someone else is addicted to desserts (Strawberry & Banana Sponge Cake) and will readily admit it because this was the most moist, succulent sponge cake I have ever had in my life.