There is always a bully at school. Instead of being the uber-cool kid, he's strong on the outside, weak on the inside. often vulnerable or ended up sobbing in the bathroom type. The psychology within the bully is common but often avoided of discussions, not because we don't want to expose them, but possibly because there is a bully in all of us -- at times when we get cocky and say things or show off we're better than others because we have certain experiences, first hand or from other sources. The God-complex is frowned upon, and often times, the bullies are not like, not even among his own peeps who pretended to be the wind beneath his wings. Take note, the 'subordinates' are just waiting for a time to let you slip and take over you the same way you bully others. Adult life, full of politics and bitchslapping, is indeed nowhere different from play at the school playground. The bullies are seldom considered rogue -- they threaten, or get defensive by putting down everyone else to boast of their own power-status. For what, exactly, the competitive edge?

Chairman Cheng, we all heard the story, so overplayed in the past couple weeks since its opening in its convenient corner shop location. The shop showcases trophies upfront, and a never-ending list of awards won. The Taiwanese shop collaborated with local KUEN FAT Restaurant to open this shop, serving both the Chairman's classic beef noodles as well as signatures from the collaborated restaurant, in short, one can find everything in it -- something Hongkie-style, curries Malay-style, and a whole lot of deep fried treats. The Chairman Cheng menu consists of two pages over the entire menu, not to mention an array of Taiwanese tea parlour beverages. Located at the corner shop, the shop had a challenge when it comes to fixing the seating. Through a narrow shop space the owner could only maximize seating in the narrowest of space. It's not helping when you are larger than a size 2, or a grown man. The seats themselves are extremely 'shallow', in a sense that anyone bigger is likely to have problem sitting comfortably without half their bottoms in midair. But that, can't be help.

The NOODLES with ROASTED BEEF, BEEF TENDON, and BEEF TRIPE (金牌紅燒三寶麵, $48) arrived in hot dark brown broth, with thick wavy noodles bathed in it. Three Treasures -- beef tendons, honeycomb tripe, and pieces of stewed beef, are dished up across the top of the noodles, rouneded out by a sprinkle of pickles and choy-sum. A layer of gloss afloats the noodles. Was it part of the Yunnan tradition of the "over the bridge noodles" or was I imagining it?

The noodles themselves were wonderful, it bears the curiously surprisingly bite and chewiness, commonly known to many as "Q". THe elastic noodles stretch and relax between bites, as if they've got a life on their own. The broth, supposedly tasting rich and beefy, was not quite there. After you get past the layer of oil by brushing it aside, the broth beneath was surprisingly thin, with the faintest of star anise and cassia bark lurking beneath. It was just a hint, not big enough to join in the overall aroma that entertains the palate. The flavour of the broth was so light that all the supposedly present tastes were there, and harmonizing, and so extremely light that one couldn't help but wonder, "did they add water?". The vegetables are alright, and so are the pickles, which bear a decided crunch with a sharp vinegary tang. But the meats were as predicted, a major disappointment. The honeycomb tripe, usually sliced into strips, was now in thin angular slices. The shape of the slices didn't help it from being chewy and rubbery. The problem with them is that some slices are rubbery and some slices are soft. Did they all come from one piece? Or was there a stewing method that can allocate the stewing in certain parts so that one part is softer than the other? Only the Chairman can tell.

The tendons were nowhere near 'gelatinous'. In fact, some smaller pieces were downright hard. It's not at a point that will crunch anyone's teeth, but it's cooked on the very surface but once you sink your teeth in you're likely to get your teeth stuck (and when you pull that piece out you can see an indent of your teethmarks on it) . For the stewed beef, please read on in this next order of noodles.


The PRESERVED BEEF WITH NOODLES (人氣牛肉乾拌麵, $42), I believed, was a misunderstood dish. Some complained about the noodles clumping together, some complained about the oil. And at the initial presentation at the table. It didn't look anything like it. But once the chopsticks were in action, all the problems arose. The noodles were cooked through and had wonderful textures like the previous bowl. However they did clump together like one big piece. (on hindsight I should've just stuck my chopsticks in and see if I could deliver a picture of me holding the entire bowlful capacity of noodles with two chopsticks, as if I hold them on a stick. The picture never happened but the possibility was sound.) The noodles, upon stirring with the "sauce", turned into a glistening brown mass that may have reminded me of an absent-minded cook who forgot he already blessed the noodles with sesame oil 3 times in the past minute. It was so laden with oil that the noodles were so slurpable without any broth. The oil may have been there to make slurping easier, but it certainly did not make consuming the noodles any easier than it should've been. The The stewed beef, present in both noodles, were tough. There was only one word for it. They were also very dry and turned into shreds everytime someone takes a bite into it. It feels like they have made soup out of it and decided to throw them in for substance. They forgot about the textures though. Some pieces were so tough that the teeth gave in and gave up during its chewing motions. The dried-tofu sauce acted like a sauce for the noodles as well. Yet the sauce itself was so sugary sweet and the tofu was inconsistently textured (some turned mushy some were very chewy). If there is anything good about the sauce -- most of the dried tofu dices were of the same size-- uniformly cut up. It was also uniformly oily like the mess below the noodles. At one point it felt like noodles stirred with brown butter with an overdose of brown sugar and bovril mixed together.

There was a "marinated dried flower"(滷花干, $18) in the menu which was supposedly typical Taiwanese food -- by cooking some fried tofu (cut in a way to open up on contact to heat) And then the Chairman decided to take the specialty off the menu because they couldn't source it anymore. I wondered why couldn't they source somewhere else if it's something they take pride in so much, and emphasized in so many interviews about how they specially sourced their materials to make sure that dishes coming out of that kitchen is the best? Why can't they try harder? Was it because they have confidence in themselves over other competitors? Or was it because they spent countless hours trying to set the story straight to people who have never been there, trying to change their minds about returning to generate a popularity buzz? That, let's leave it for the readers and the owners to decide.

Backstory: The first visit at Chairman Cheng was a pleasant one. It was on the second day of its opening. The noodles were chewy while the broth was rich and flavorful. The beef were inconsistent -- hard and soft at the same time, not nearly enough to be called "good". The diners are squeezed into seats while idling staff were messaging on the cell phones while hungry diners waited outside looking yearningly at one or two stray tables waiting to be seated.

After a few weeks, some things have changed. There were no longer stray tables, the line was forever, and diners can't wait to see whether they can get a taste of something straight from Taiwan. It's not that Chairman's Cheng's mission has gone down the drain, or that he's failed in impressing the local crowd with his baby. That matter was worse, it got stuck with inconsistency in so many ways and levels that things were good sometimes at something but bad other times. One could only wish that they were lucky enough to get a perfect bowl of noodles they were promised to from pamphlets and even the words from the Chairman himself.

The proud words of the Chairman still resound at the staff's ears, convincing them they are the future monopolizing the local Beef Noodle market, and that only they can beat themselves. It could be true, if one decided to spent more effort and time into perfecting their own signature, not parading around with a God-complex thinking they already ARE better than everyone, ticking off every offensive box in the rulebook putting down other joints. People are eating it up -- the noodles and the words, but whether or not people are buying into the failed promise of an establishment that acted like a bully in a school playground, only time will tell whether they can deliver the promise they brag they already got it in the bag. Real or imaginary, success or failure, only the owners there can tell.

Note: On a completely different issue, the translation of the menu truly is bad. Not as bad as "Albert Yip", but it's close to that. They had the nerve to translate "滷花干"directly into "Marinated Dried Flower" (which has no flower of any kind in the dish. Gotta give them points for trying, but not nearly trying hard enough to impress.

K-Town to me is like an unknown territory, but little I remember that I was supposed to remember where things are, after all I should've walked some of the streets during the earliest years of my life. I was less than 4 years old, and my stern grandfather took us out every now and again. The unspoiled simplicity of the neighborhood is beginning to be replaced by more Westernized neighborhood joints, and yes, more variety of different things -- foreign, things, if I may add.

But fishball noodles are always a local thing. It's only until recent years did people start taking apart all the elements leading up to a bowlful of noodles, with fishballs and broth. This day, on absolutely no idea what to eat for dinner, I came into this shop, hoping to score some good fishballs, only be confronted by a team of staff who would prefer to be somewhere else other than in the shop opening for business.

It was the television, the glaring screen with something happening -- There is always something happening. Restaurants with television often get weird service. It's either very attentive (because someone's always NOT watching TV), or really bad (because everyone is watching it). This one belong to the latter, and between trying to order to ordering at a time where diners were scarce (like, I'm the only one) 5 minutes was too long a time for that.

Ordering may take time, but for the food to arrive didn't. Aside from fish balls, I also added house made pork and vegetable dumplings as well. It arrived within minutes (before the entire team of staff went back to the TV). The fish ball itself was white and spongy, a little bit too spongy I'd say, so much that it really did bounce back when I requested a small dish for chili oil. The bouncy fish ball tasted very fishy but not at all dense with fish though, it was very light as one nearly couldn't tell it's fish except for the taste of it. The dumplings, gigantic dumplings to be specific, looked alright. Yet one bite into it proved myself wrong. The dumpling itself, supposedly chive and pork, was all chive and little pork, which makes the filling tasting very "grassy", almost a coarseness to it. The overlapping wrapper of the dumpling clings together during cooking and the texture was very starchy, not at all flowing and soft either. The noodles, were thin and translucent. They were also impossible to be picked up in bunches.

Throughout the course of the consumption of this bowl of noodle nobody uttered a word except for responses on what's happening on the television. The noodles truly weren't very good, but everything was so tidy and the floors are squeaky clean, that, gave it some points. But the food is not quite as expected, and my expectation for a fish ball noodle shop in the neighborhood wouldn't be very high at all.

Looking at the staff and the food -- I couldn't stop but wonder, wouldn't anyone want to be anywhere else?

It feels good that something is always opening. There is no better time to try new places when they open for a few days but before the busy lunch crowds flock to crowd the place yet. There is much need for something new, not necessarily different, in this part of town. M&N Cafe's location is a little strange -- you can see it when the buses pass through every now and again, but it's a lot at a place in between two major bus stops. Unless you're getting off from a cab, otherwise diners are expected to walk (and in the sun) to get to it.

M&N Cafe gives comfort to a 'Western style; Restaurant. On a very sunny day natural light is borrowed from the outside through the big windows facing the bustling traffic. Diners who refused to feel naked being watched what they're eating or doing can choose the booths along the two sides. Lunch sets run from $48 to $78 plus 10% service charge. There is an "executive lunch set" which goes more than $100. For the first trial, my experimental instinct drove me into trying the Grilled NZ Ribeye, served with japaleno gravy ($78). For the first course I always loved soup, but chose salad instead. Salad of the day was tuna, and while I fretted over whether it's going to be an entire scoop like savory ice-cream of tuna bits adhered in mayonnaise, it arrived with a green salad as base, topped with that mayo-laden tuna. The fish itself was alright, but it's the crisp salad greens with a light vinaigrette that made the cut. Garlic bread was not laden with garlic, but the faint aroma combined with butter was good enough, afterall, who wouldn't like a piece of crisp toast to start?

The arrival of the ribeye reminded me that I have not declared my preference for steak, but it looked like it doesnt matter, because they did steak all the same. The person in the next table ordered medium rare and was given the exact same doneness as mine (which is just about 80% cooked). The meat itself wasn't very good, except how meaty it is (but not in the meaty sense of taste). It seemed to have lost flavour over the marination (suspicious of baking soda). The jalapeno 'gravy' tasted fine, the heat did not induce a bee-sting sharpness, and it's comforting to know that the gravy was not very salty either. The only that did not pose a problem was the checkered potato fries which were very crispy, but that could be done as long as there is temperature control and hot oil.

The coffee didn't give any surprises at the end. Was it not very good? No. It was just not over the top good. It's often disappointing when you became hopeful about a new place only did they fail to deliver. Looking over the $48 salad option were not nearly as crisp and fresh looking as the house salad. They don't have browned edges, but they wilted slightly in appearance, and it's not warm salad to be specific...

This place should attract some crowds who lunch and don't mind the location. The ambience of the place is perfectly fine, if the music can be turned down a little. After all, it's classic rock they're playing...

Take a concept, open a shop, and you get the attention from many -- neighborhood diners, travelling foodies, and also, the press.

Take the same shop, multiple by 50, with different varieties of dishes. The repertoire has expanded, but so are the risks leading up to failures. The menu is now filled with attempts to re-create old traditions, only to fail because the creators, or makers themselves have only experienced the traditional ones on paper and not on their tastebuds. Such have been the case for tea parlours, and shops selling eggettes, and fishball noodles as well, and up until recently, dimsum shops.

Bird and Basket is located along a busy street in Prince Edward. The two-storey high shop catches some attention overlooking other eateries on the same street. Selling dimsums, the glass sliding door and windows have been laden with laminated newspaper clippings. The wooden furniture, matching with beige walls and drawings of peach blossoms spreading across the sides, exudes contemporary Chinese decor much like an attempt to resemble tradition with a twist. On one wall is the menu with each item and its prices in plastic signs. There are some photos on the ordering sheet, but not all are covered, perhaps only the ones they recommend?

The two of us shared a few dimsums. Starting with Barbecued Pork Pineapple Bun, which are the sizes slightly bigger than a baby's fist. The soft bun, crowned with the golden crisscrossing pattern of buttery crust on its canopy, is aromatic with a puff of sweetness from both the crust and the barbecued pork filling. Taking a bite into the bun, getting past its crumbly sweet crust, the barbecued pork filling was only warm. In fact, 'warm' didn't cover the whole truth. 'Tepid' was a better word for it. Some of the best barbecued pork buns I've had had near-molten filling with cut up pieces of barbecued pork -- lean with tiny bits of fat mixed throughout. The sauce should also be dark and rich but this one is dark alright, but nowhere near rich with the sauce. It was, however, quite sweet and the barbecued pork pieces were on the leaner side. The bun, however, is softer but did not get "sticky" between chewing.

Wasabi-Seafood dumplings are translucent dumplings that resembled the crown top of a flattened Napa Cabbage, with its pale jade green colour benefited from the use of wasabi mixed into the wheat starch wrapper. The wrapper was only slightly sharp with heat, while the filling within consisted of cut bits of prawns and scallops, and a potent lump of wasabi. Its texture resembled to that diluted with water from powder. The wasabi was so pungent that everything else in the dumpling lost their flavours, as they were all replaced by the sharp sting from the grated root (even sharper with the powdered mix, almost like too much horseradish in one dose)

The Pig-Liver Shaomai used to be a traditional dimsum -- lumps of pork and chiken topped with a gossamer slice of pig's liver and steamed. The pig's liver was supposed to be rich and tender, yet this one failed to deliver the ideal texture. The liver bears a shade of greyish brown while the chicken was in turn not marinated through, and its taste clearly reminded diners that the chicken has lived long enough in the kitchen's deep freeze. There was also too much of a glaze across the top, but that could be helped and fine-tuned if the liver was not as tough, the kitchen staff probably wouldn't need to try masking the appearance with a transparent gloss of a sauce.

Steamed Brown Sugar Cake rounded up an otherwise so-so meal of dimsums. The yeasted cake was obviously quite sweet compared to its paler kin in other dimsum restaurants. The cake itself was moist with a faint sugary taste resembling the demerara sugar. There were times when we wanted to order more dimsums, only to stop and ponder on the possibilities of being wooed by any other dimsums on the menu. The couple on the next table complained about the non-molten interior of the custard buns (fried of steamed, neither were molten inside)

Having opened for quite a while now, Bird and Basket has attracted some attention from foodies and members of the press to cover their array of dimsums. While they failed to impress with the more innovative side of dimsums, it is suggested that maybe they can start with the basics all over again...? After all, the basics are always easiest to impress, and hardest to master.

If there is a time for certain things to happen -- I must admit I was rather lucky to have gotten into the world of food when I was little -- when my friends were flipping through comic books I was reading cookbooks -- from glossy pictures of fanned out dishes and pictorial procedures of how to slice meat paper thin. I might have no kitchen experience, but every now and then when the idea of a recipe is brought up, two imaginary hands would dance in my head following the mentioned recipes. In time I learned some jargons -- to bone and debone, to flip, toss, sear, blanch, braise, carve...etc. It's a whole new language that often takes a lifetime to practice, and I'm still learning. I don't expect to master everything about it in my lifetime, but in due time, I do want to think I have found my one true love -- for food, at a young age.

(Continued from previous...)

Midway through the second course, we were on cloud nine tasting the lamb rack, little did we know the next onslaught of dishes would cause us a deadly fall from the sky....

Steamed Sea Bass, Artichoke and Crispy Squid -- From the plating, it resembled a naughty baby squid crawling onto the fillet of sea bass. The silvery specked skin was glossy, with white flaky flesh underneath. The sea bass was steamed, and tasted as light as anything can ever become of, especially labelled "Steamed". To call it light is to be nice. I longed to give it a euphemism as 'plain', but I was suppressed by the crunchy squid that's lightly fried and seasoned, quite nicely enough on the coating while the content inside was chewy as in "overcooked". The artichokes were nicely done though. We gave it up halfway through, and I firmly believed that fish doesn't and shouldn't taste this bland, even if it's steamed.

Wagyu Skirt Paillarde, Confit Porcini, Rocket and Parmigiano -- The dish in question of the entire brunch. The skirt steak is one of the tougher cut of steaks out there. One would expect some pounding involved to call it a PAILLARDE, and this one did. The theoretical approach is that after considerable pounding to loosen up the meat, it will become tender, if not soft. This steak, wagyu or not wagyu, failed miserably even remotely touching the surface. It took us from lamb rack heaven straight to the burning steak hell. The fine flakes of Parmigiano and musky rocket went well with the Confit of Porcini -- soft and rich on the flavour. Yet the skirt steak was so tough that when Mr. KC tried to cut across it, the knife slided to make a shrill squeak across the plate (with the steak attached to the blade of the night, cut mark absent) The steak dares us to chew and digest, and halfway through our jaws grew weak and gave in, as another conversation sparked, a very interesting one as the chef came strolling by.

Knowing that Stefano, the new executive of Aspasia is sick that day, the other half of the Piscedda brothers, also at Aspasia to man the kitchen (unfortunately his name was lost in the shuffle of information) The chef did the routine as he asked about the quality of dishes served. While boasting earlier of an all-rounded chef who mastered both meat and starch cuisines, we held back from the sordid details, but when the chef decided to go through the menu course by course, we had to comply. We covered the lack of heat from the All'Arrabbiata -- which the chef admitted the use of Thai chilies this time instead of the Italian Pepperoncini, yielding a milder, less intense heat, and he openly admitted the use of TABASCO (hot sauce) to adjust the heat level. Am I dreaming this confession? It only got worse as he swallowed the doubts we had on the tordelli and replaced with a boyish grin with lips sealed so tight that any words about to come off from there would sound defensive. The pride he felt from the lamb quickly diminished as asked of the ideal texture of the steak, which he delivered flawlessly the textbook answer only to realize his creation was miles away from it. The chef wasn't pleased, and five minutes ago, neither were the diners.

Desserts are on the self service style as well. PANNA COTTA is jiggly and creamy with a dot of berry coulis on the top to cut through the rchness. MIXED FRUIT TART was alright except the golden cube of mango was so lip-puckeringly tart that it seemed to bite back on anyone who bites into the tart. TIRAMISU was ok, but the chocolate spoon was too hard and failed to deliver anything remotely chocolate except for its colour. CHOCOLATE CAKE is presented in cubes, and the layers of chocolate cake and chocolate mousse are well balanced. MARSHMALLOWS DIPPED IN CHOCOLATE, however, is a major disappointment. It was as chewy as one of those white pencil eraser dipped in dark chocolate, and tiny sugar crystals are contained within the supposedly soft confection. The best bet for anything sweet, however is the DANISHES, which remain flaky and only slightly sweet even after it has gone room temperature.

A hot latte at the end rounded off a less than perfect meal. It goes way beyond what can be considered a perfect getaway from work, but let's face the fact that food at Aspasia is not generally at this level as I have had better meals here than this. It is worth the try if one chooses the dishes right. Time, for me is not something I can easily afford to take my attention away from what I do -- the tightly packed schedule can be overwhelming at times, but luckily enough I take the pleasure in everything I do for it, and to get away from that and hang out with the people I know will enjoy what I enjoy as well, is just as good as anyone can ask for, as I was told once -- We're all just a bunch of people who are serious about food. We love food and we love eating. Time and turbulences have passed, with the rise of dramas and endless blaming finger wars later, some things haven't changed, and I'm glad for that.

Thanks editor M and Openrice for inviting me for this opportunity, and to anyone who's patient enough to read this till the end -- Thank you for letting me share what I love, and know that it loves me back indeed.

We love clocks -- we look at them early in the morning when we get up (cursing away as we approach our office), we look at them mid-morning waiting to go for lunch, look at them mid-afternoon waiting to finish work, look at them mid-evening waiting to finish overtime, and look at them wondering on a sleepless night...etc. Time, we never seem to have enough of it. If a day has 30 hours we will still be so occupied and preoccupied with things that made us whine about not having enough of time in the first place. It's never going to be enough, and brunches, a weekend getaway for a few hours, sipping good wines and sitting back and enjoy a satisfying meal with friends -- chatting the hours away. We are more than obliged to the idea of it, and luckily enough, more people are buying into that. It can also become a time where they don't need to look at the clocks, and wouldn't want to either. A time to enjoy...

Backstory - For the 20th time on a weekday the phone rang, on a flashing screen the foodie didn't recognize the number but picked it up anyway. The conversation went:
Woman: It's M, editor of Openrice.
Man: Oh hi...
Woman: We'd like to invite you to eat, as you know, we now divide the members into categories, and each month..
Man (interrupting, flat tone, like a movie's secret agent accepting a mission): Yes, when?
Woman: You don't want to know where and who you're eating with?
Man (briskly realized that has not been established yet): Oh, where and with who?
Woman: We'll Brunch at Aspasia, with KC.
Man (a chill ran down his neck, but quickly relieved): Ok, when? (and the date is set)
...

For the longest time I refuse to put names on reviews, not because I don't know their names, or because my memory usually serves me wrong associating names with faces, but because I like putting aliases for people who respect anonymity, to a certain level. Having known Mr. KC for a while, I have had mentioned him (in various aliases, most often times, 'friend') in a few write ups, but name, I don't think I have (or I don't remember). But on a slightly wet Sunday, I was also late for the meal. When I arrived, the party has arrived, busily chatting with joy.

Aspasia, on the first floor, divides its dining space into several areas -- one where natural light shines in, one where the seating are couches (useful for drinks, not so much for eating), one for bigger crowds, one called "the library" but not with shelves of useful books, and the others I seemed to have forgotten. The brand new Paintertainment Weekend Brunch runs from 11:30 to 3pm, and with an array of Antipasti (appetizers) and Dolce (desserts) in the style of buffets. Browsing through the menu of choices, we ordered one of each primo and secondo so we can share.

I find that the Antipasti usually take the most time to prepare, especially when it comes to available varieties, and even the smallest details account for the best results. MIXED GRILLED VEGETABLES feature an array of fanned out courgettes, shiitaki mushrooms , bell peppers, and aubergines. The grill marks were the only trace that proved the vegetables have landed on a grill, while the taste of it ever touching anything remotely called a grill was absent, except for the bell pepper, which has been grilled until the exterior is charred and cooled down. Each piece of bell pepper is skin-free, as the kitchen staff took the time to peel off the paper thin skin, which can be quite bitter or chewy especially after it's grilled. MOZZARELLA AND ROCKET SALAD takes on alternating layers of mozzarella and tomatoes. One could only wish their modifited Insalata di Caprese is using Italian Tomatoes -- not a chance here. Despite the juiciness, the intense fruity flavour from these tomatoes was never on the same level as the Italian varieties. SMOKED SALMON SALAD was satisfactory. The selection of COLD CUTS WITH PICKLES is good, yet it's hard to tell whether the Bresaola has gotten brittle or is it a desired texture -- on the first and replaced platter the same texture is yielded. The prosciutto takes on its usual 'pink ribbon' appearance but failed to deliver the right creamy taste on the fat alongside the meat part. OCTOPUS SALAD WITH POTATOES, GARLIC AND PARSLEY was the major issue here. We both chewed at the softer strips of "Octopus", and pondered a little as we finally caught each others' eyes -- It wasn't octopus! That was quite a revelation, even more so than discovering it's made with soya beans (clearly it's not). Turned out, it's squid, but why would they put an Octopus salad in the menu in the first place -- it isn't even Italian? Reason is beyond my understanding...

Conversation is the perfect side dish when it comes meals with friends. The three of us, chatting over choices and menu constructions and where to eat, there are much for me to learn, I admit, and there are very much to eat my way through different areas, and be who I aspire myself to be, a foodie named Wil. It didn't take long for the first courses to arrive, as the crowd fell silent.

Primo Piatto:

Spaghetti All'Arrabbiata -- Simplicity is spelled out in the first pasta dish to serve. Narrow strands of spaghetti cooked until al dente with matching flavours of tang and chii heat. Wait, that was the ideal textbook version you can't expect here. Instead, spaghetti is cooked alright, but with the right consistency the sauce clings onto each strand of spaghetti -- its crimson blush gently brushed across the surface of the pasta, and dripped slightly when the strands are lifted. The taste, if there is one thing that's uniform it's sweetness. The tartness is minimal and did we detect that chili's heat so faint I couldn't help but wonder the reason behind the lack of heat, when one of the dish's signature taste is the heat?

Risotto with Red Prawn and Fava Beans -- As textbook as it can be, from the slightly thickened coral-orange soupy rice consistency and appearance to the texture of each rice grain to be uniformly rich and chewy with a bite. The broth base is a little too "lobster bisque" causing a little 'dry' sensation at the throat, but the great use of Fava beans that's both seasonal and eye-catching as the lone spots of green. The buttery texture is well-kept during the cooking process.

Tordelli Stuffed with "Cinta Senese" Pork Ragout, Butter and Sage -- The delicate golden dumplings where the dough gathered on the top and pinched tight. The slightly dull appearance, compared to the same picture that 小漏漏took in her review, is truly of polar opposites. Halving the dumpling in half revealed what may have been the dullest filling of all -- a uniformly sandy meat filling packed so tightly and tasted so dry that it can pass easily as a freshly opened can of tuna (with water, not oil). The filling, however flavorful through hours of stewing, gave it away as the texture truly was a killer, or more like one that could kill a palate into submission. The dough has also become slightly brittle, and uneven in thickness. The dish was left unfinished.

After the staff removed the offending tordelli with a friendly smile that immediately turned into an expression conveying absurd horror (because the dish was barely touched), the three of us engaged in another round of conversations, ever so light and enjoyable as time never seemed to matter, and all priorities did not matter, and why is that -- it's an enjoyable time with people who love food. If a meal is held with company you enjoy and experiences to share -- time wouldn't be as much of a luxury when you know you want to hear the rest of many more stories to come.

The second round of courses arrived, but this time, the conversations didn't stop.

Pan-Fried Rack of Lamb with Ratatouille -- The two pieces of lamb sat crisscrossing on a mini slanting mount of ratatouille. The lamb, brown on the outside with a decided seared surface throughout, is well-flavoured. The exterior is essentially crusted and the interior so ever appropriately nice and pink, oozing juices. The ratatouille -- a melange of vegetables stewed together in a homogenously rich tomato mixture. Each vegetable in the mix is equally cooked through and the overall flavour is the best in all the dishes we have sampled so far.

(To be continued...)

I was determined she doesn't like me.

Contradictions live within us, and all we struggle through are a way out -- yes or no, black or white, and to a foodie's mind -- have it or not have it (the latter being having it LATER, or ANOTHER TIME). It's a matter of choice, and today instant gratification won over. I walked through the familiar networks of restaurants and eateries, with a spring on my step, arriving at the old arcade, landing at the steps of the familiar shop. It was 5 minutes after opening time.

Lady: What do you want?
Me (observing the empty fridge): Napoleon (in my polite voice)
Lady: Can't you see there aren't any?
Me: But when you open you never put them in the fridge (Our eyes met, she knew I'm not a first-timer)
Lady: How many?
Me: 2 please, small ones (with fingers showing her the size)
Lady: Ours is not that big. Ours is...
Me (interrupting): I would like two pieces, please, however big they are.
Lady: We don't have it. Come back later.
Me: How much later?
Lady: LATER.

30 minutes and a visit at 'Wah Sister' across the street. My returned marked my spot at the end of the line. The sales lady was smiling and greeting the ladies in front. When it was my turn, her face turned ashen yet again. She was determined to make me beg for it. I ran through the same routine above, and when she gave ma bone chilling cold stare for one last time, I stepped out and turned around, she was smiling cheerfully with the others. Was that a bad-service nightmare, or did I just entered another void in the parallel universe when manners don't matter?

The napoleon, layered and 'freshly made', was nowhere nearly as good to be called a mille-feuille. The layers had that crispness..It had the buttery flavour but didn't go all the way. The pastry cream was smooth and custardy, but somehow didn't go well with the ever so light pastry. The top layer though, was crispiest among all different layers. I bought two pieces, and I stopped in the midst of the first one...

I looked back at the receipt and realized how much I paid for this, and I am not convinced that what I got is not I paid for. The Napoleon wasn't bad, but the entire experience isn't entirely good to deserve a smiling face. I may not have eaten all the Napoleons in the city to know which one is the best, but to say that this is a good one because everyone seems to think so is inaccurate and a challenge to my integrity for someone who loves to eat like anyone else on here. The service truly is bad, and I can only hope the lady at the shop has put all her efforts into every Napoleon that was made for the business, and left the worries to be projected to the next person who provoked her with kindness. That's how I comforted myself for the rest of that afternoon.

We have a love-hate relationship with change, especially when it comes in the wrong time. Let me correct this, it's here and there, all the time, but it happens when you least expect it -- which is the time you think will happen but didn't. It has a tendency to sneak up on all of us, and often times, leaves us wondering what we have done wrong to deserve the outcome. There are things you really wish will never change, because it's been working out fine, and there are the changes that come bit by bit until one day, you don't recognize what the original is anymore, you become assimiliated to the 'new'. 'Dai Pai Dongs' are some places we wish would never changed. This write up, from a dinner that happened just over a year ago, was somehow forgotten at the bottom of the pile, until a recent conversation and some changes reminded me how much this past year has changed for me, and for others as well.

A group of many picked out a place for dinner, from a facebook group where the list ran long. One of many benefits to join big dinners is that you get to taste many dishes while the downside is the quality may not be on the same level when the kitchen needs to turn out 5 dishes at a time instead of 25. This, was no problem for Keung Kee. Several tables of our group taking over a great part of the dining space, and the crowds were happy as the clinking of wine-filled glasses were heard before the first dish arrived.

DEEP FRIED OYSTERS are fried crispy with a blazing aura of heat when served. The coating was thin, but crunchy enough when fried in the hot oil. Seasoning was made on top of the oysters after they were fried and the oyster itself is creamy, almost like molten freshness on its own. CHICKEN IN CLAY POT arrived sizzling hot, and while the bony bits of chicken were meaty and tasty, it was the thick slabs of pig's livers that got the most attention, before they were snatched all gone within seconds. The pig's liver pieces, thick with a crunch to it, were nowhere near the tough stingy bits in many dishes of the same kind. DEEP FRIED SHRIMPS ON VERMICELLI is an interesting dish that features deep fried shrimps, tossed in a brown sauce and rested on top of a bed of fried vermicelli. The shrimps were butterflied and despite deep fried, the sauce has softened up the crust but the vermicelli were picked up as broken golden shards of crispiness that coated the shrimps.

RAZOR CLAMS IN BLACK BEAN SAUCE was ok, as the clams are of the right texture while the black beans were too hard and the sauce too gooey. The BRAISED GAROUPER FIN, the only dish that wasn't photographed, was in fact the fin of a gaouper -- deep fried until a golden crust is formed, and with a brown sauce made with chock full of shiitaki mushrooms and pork shreds on top of it. The fish is tender but again, if a crusty exterior is desired, one must wonder, why the sauce on the top and extended waiting time so that the sauce can permeate the exterior, making the intended crunchiness disappear? (while it's the traditional cooking method, and I don't doubt any part of that!) The FRIED MEATS PLATTER consist of duck tongues, which are rarely fried like this, and were crunchy with a little bit of chewy meat within. The squid was heavily seasoned but had the best texture, while the pork neck was slightly bland and somehow 'too tender', in a way that ordinary pork neck doesn't have that texture. CUTTLEFISH CAKES that followed were popular choice -- smashed cuttlefish flesh blended with little bits of chopped waterchestnut for the sweetness and crunch, followed by the crusty breading that made the cuttlefish cake all the most desirable to be served at any feasts.

BAKED FISH INTESTINES arrived in a shallow bowl, where fried donut slices floated atop the baked crust of savoury custard. Beneath the custard were the intestines -- starchy but fishy at the same time, but without any bit of metallic aftertaste. Ground white pepper was optional, but certainly would be recommended for those who don't like any trace of fishiness at all. The two vegetables were just as good. The AMARANETH WTH TWO EGGS adopts the 'black' and 'white' eggs. The WATER SPINACH WITH PRESERVED BEANCURD was slightly too runny on the sauce and too sweet. Yet the crunchy texture of the water spinach was refreshingly welcoming. GLUTINOUS RICE at the end rounded up an otherwise scrumptious meal. The rice, with granules still wet and unlikely to be stir-fried in the wok from the beginning as claimed, was generously bejeweled with chopped mushrooms, preserved sausages and chopped scallions. It tasted right, except that drier rice granules would benefit a great deal on the texture of the dish!

POW! The onslaught of dishes presented like fireworks at a festive celebration. Some were good with raves, while some were slightly off the best performance. The wonderful thing about dinners is that the dishes carefully selected to construct the menu were highlights of what the kitchen was capable of doing, and that the dinner has not disappointed. So nice did we not want it to change the slightest.

Further experience at Keung Kee has proven inconsistency to be the issue in question. One must wonder what has changed in other times, when specialties didn't arrive crispy, or instead of golden brown it became toasty brown. Every little detail counted, and it is the little detail that lies beneath the surface that makes up the change that buds and seemingly out of nowhere.

One year has passed, and countless meals and gatherings later, many things have changed, on a personal level some things have turned for the better, and in an instance regarding to this meal in particular, have taken a wrong turn along the downward spiral. While understanding change is inevitable, what we can do is to look on the sides where we can cope, not necessarily the bright side, but deal with it the way we know how. For what came that didn't change for the better, for one who wishes to undo but can't, one can consider standing right here, pondering, against all odds, that a miracle would happen as change will happen on the change for the worse into something better, perhaps back to where it used to be.

是日不很熱，經過銅鑼灣想吃豆腐花，第一時間想起人和，才發現搬到對面了．坐在冷氣勁大的舖頭裡，要了熱豆花．

端上原來的時候感覺一陣蒸氣，的確是很熱的，　豆花做得一貫的滑，但豆味的確差少少，要多下點糖才算吃得點味來．下次再來，還是要凍豆漿，解解渴算了．

Passion -- Not everyone has it, but when he/she does, it's a beautiful thing, a perfect driving force that brings out the best in some people. Those with passion exert extra efforts to get something done, or get them exactly right, if not going an extra lengths to reach perfection, by not only the trade's standards but also their own. It is crucial to have passion in whatever you do, and when you do, the work that turns out cannot be anything short of fantastic -- because we have the dedication for it, no matter how hard. Ye bu-E takes up a space in Tin Hau, on a not-so convenient location not the most remote of places. The purple and grey decor has a sense of understated grace, with hanging paintings of peach blossoms.

Meet Maxi and Michael, brother and sister team who opened Yu-E a while back. Maxi works at the shop's front while Michael has extensive experiences making cakes-- for birthdays and for weddings. One look into the design portfolio of his will reveal the creativity of 3-dimensional designs without the tacky ruffle-dress on toy doll idea. Yu-E needed no princesses,as it has flowers -- lots of them. Flower-shaped birthday cakes are sold here at Yu-E. It comes in Passion Fruit Cheese Mousse and Mango Mousse at the time the above photos were taken. As for the peach blossoms, every design has been carefully constructed on paper before each fragile twig or blooming blossom is softly dabbed and skillfully crafted on the cake's surface. The result is a lovely artpiece that signifies dedication.

On two occasions I purchased birthday cakes for the ladies in my family-- the mother and the granny. The passion fruit cheese mousse is of a lighter shade of beige, with a uniform creaminess all the way through. White-Chocolate Painted petals surrounded the sides, while the mastery skills of cake decoration was presented at the top, ever so technical as the flowers and branches are quickly outlined down to the detail of flower buds. Seeing Michael bending over the kitchen counter, with both hands holding a parchment paper formed cone holding the chocolate 'paint', each flower bud is carefully 'painted' onto the blank canvas of a cake surface. The cake itself is of a lighter quality -- Passion Fruit is blended into a mousse made with cream cheese and cream so fluffy and light that the sponge cake seemed heavier, in comparison to the feathery light mousse whose sharp fruity tang of passion fruit coincides with buttery creaminess within.

Mango Mousse Cake is another favorite, with a bigger size this time, so did the flowers, as they turned from smaller flowers into magnificent blossoms the colours of the deepest crimson, perfectly setting atop the golden hue of mango mousse. The fruity mousse filling is lightly whipped, and the cake is yet so light it doesn't sit heavily on the stomach. Seeing the master baker carefully paint the outline of the cake, constructing blooming buds and petals along the side, with the smallest petals the size of a sweat bead on his forehead. His hands did not shake for one second through his inspired construction process, as Michael lets his creativity flares to create the flamboyance of the blooming beauty built entirely on a cake, as opposed to a blank canvas with paint.

Cakes at Yu-E are on the sweeter side, not purely on the flavours, which are lighter than most conventional cakes, but the taste of passion that brings the best out of our abilities. It proves to all of us who dare to dream big, and want to make the best we can to create something big -- even bigger than our dreams. The dedication, efforts, and determination one must have to take one step further on. While I may not be the best person to judge on cakes, I'd like to think of myself as someone who has a passion on food, and like many who write and read here, the taste of passion is often more complex than the food itself.

Note: The price per person is an average of the two cakes combined.