Happy Birthday To Me
Thursday, June 11, 2009
It was my birthday on Tuesday 9th June.
Happy Birthday to Me!
This is my year too, the Year of the Ox. I was born in the evening, a water ox. Hence I do not need to toil so hard in life unlike those born in the day. According to the fortune tellers, I have it good amongst my bovine kind.
I did have a nice birthday. Hubs could not take time off on the day itself so we celebrated over the weekend. On Saturday we went to pick out my present. Jewelry again (I'm in a phase, okay?) but this time, I wanted an Art Deco inspired earrings cum necklace set.
The following evening, we headed off for dinner at my favourite teppanyaki restaurant Uama. Everything was the same as it always was, excellent food, people watching and funny conversation. Then the chef (not ours but the one over on our right) started flaming the meat. I suppose he was over eager with the alcohol because the fire went whoosh! Most impressive of course. But what really got me goggly eyed was the dish cloth next to him on the grill catching fire. It started with a small lick and the lick morphed into several dancing licks. I tried to catch his attention but it was too noisy for him to hear me. The place was crowded but yet no one else saw what was happening. Save short-sighted me who is blind without her contacts. Unbelievable! Finally, I gestured wildly to our chef and pointed to his colleague, yelling in Mandarin, "Fire! Fire! The cloth is on fire!" who, mind you, puts out the fire and continued on as calmly as you please.
Bless my grilled lamb chops! And there I was thinking we had to make a run for it without getting a taste of the beef wrapped goose liver and vegetable rolls we had ordered.
Tuesday was a couple of notches more serene and less heart-pounding. I went and spoilt myself at The Heavenly Spa by Westin with their Mediterranean olive body scrub and hot stone massage. It started with a foot wash and scrub in petal water while I sipped tea and nibbled on white chocolate bon bons. All this in a fluffy white robe, sinking in a plush seat. For the next two and half hours, I was kneaded like an overworked piece of dough. When it was all over and I had to get off the massage bed, my knees buckled and I almost fell. I was that relaxed.
After this, I slithered down to their restaurant where I had a little lunch of salad and a Reubens sandwich. Then I slithered off home.
In the evening, the three of us mosied on to the nearby Traders Hotel for a buffet dinner. Two of us walked while one of us, say it with me, slithered along.
We are regulars at the hotel's Cafe Noir. As such, we've become friendly with the two executive chefs, one from Devon for the Western kitchen, the other from Penang for the Asian one. This is very handy as the Penang chef would cook up something wonderfully local not found in the menu and slip it on our table. When he has a moment to spare, he'd come by our table where we'd talk about food and cooking, specifically Nyonya cooking.
On my birthday, he fried up some dark sauce Hokkien Mee (with loads of sambal belachan!) and Roti Prata filled with minced beef and scrambled eggs. As if that was not enough, he also let us sample some Chicken Curry and Bak Kut Teh for a private party the cafe was hosting later. We were floored. Hubs wouldn't touch the Bak Kut Teh on account of the pungent smell but everything else went down nicely. Little wonder we hardly had room left in our bellies for the main course.
Before I end this birthday post, Sonny-boy bought me a Swarovski mobile phone charm and my 25th floor neighbour sent a huge bouquet of lilies. I gave myself a little present too - a coffee book from Tiffany showcasing and explaining the history of their various jewelry collection.
Oh, and the dentist hopped on the bandwagon and gave me a gift as well. I had to make an emergency appointment yesterday afternoon whereby she presented me with two root canal treatments back to back. This makes it a grand total of six root canals in three years. And three on the same cursed molar. The treatment took two and the half, almost three hours and when I got off her chair, my knees buckled and I almost fell but this time for an altogether different reason. And no, I certainly did not slither home.
What a difference a day makes!
Labels: eating out, home life
The Dutchess of Cookalot whipped this up at 5:38 am