Grateful: Granddad's Anniversary

I paid a visit to the columbarium today to pay respects to my late paternal grandfather. This coming Friday will mark his 57th death anniversary. As I will be conducting training that day, I won’t be able to commemorate the occasion then, so I decided to do so a few days earlier. It was a simple affair - just some basic offerings of joss paper and a small donation to the temple.

It has been 57 years, and apart from me, I don’t think anyone else remembers the anniversary anymore. Doing this simple ritual is perhaps also a way of honouring my mum. Forever the dutiful daughter-in-law, she had always taken it upon herself to commemorate the occasion since his passing, and later, my grandma’s as well. In continuing the ritual, I suppose I am also continuing something she had quietly kept alive for so many years.

I decided to ask D to meet for lunch as I would pass by his place and was surprised he offered to accompany me to the columbarium. But I guess it was a good experience for him too - taking public transport with me and seeing what the place was like. Grateful for the company, and certainly grateful that I am still able to commemorate the occasion.

Bak Chang & I

Duanwu Jie (or 端午节, Dragon Boat Festival) has always been present in my family through the making of bak chang. My mother would prepare them, offer them to the gods, and share them with people who mattered to us. Although she is Peranakan, she would make the Hokkien-style savoury bak chang, shaped by my father’s and grandmother’s Hokkien background. Occasionally, she would also buy the sweet Peranakan-style nonya chang for us. I have always preferred the nonya version. My personal journey in making the chang began in 2003. I think I went through two major phases in my nonya chang making journey: an early experimentation or "fusion" phase, and a later maturation into the nonya style. What began as experimentation shaped by homesickness has, over time, grown into something grounded in memory, belonging, and continuity - and, ultimately, in how I understand my own identity.

I started making it in 2003 when I was based in Tampa. I was living in a western country, navigating life as a minority, and I remember a persistent sense of loneliness and distance from my cultural roots. Food became a way of returning to something familiar. In that space, I began experimenting with bak chang. There was no clear recipe at the start - only instinct and memory. I went to a Vietnamese grocery shop and bought the ingredients and bamboo leaves. What emerged was a version that, at times, resembled Hokkien choot bee png (fried glutinous rice) wrapped in bamboo leaves, rather than bak chang in its fully formed sense. To many of us Asians based in Tampa, however, it carried a familiar resonance of home, and it became an unexpected success among fellow Asian military personnel on base.

In the years that followed, after returning to Singapore, I began to refine the recipe through trial and error. My mother guided me in those early years, especially in emphasising the importance of coriander powder and winter melon. What emerged was a fusion version that I was rather proud of - it felt like a meeting point between my parents’ heritage: Hokkien on one side, Peranakan on the other. Yet beneath that satisfaction was a quieter pull. I had wanted to make nonya chang, but the result kept settling into something in-between. I knew the ingredient mix was not quite right but could not pinpoint exactly what. Still, I was elated that my parents, especially my mother, enjoyed what I made. I sometimes wondered whether her enjoyment was also shaped by her own Peranakan upbringing, something she had carried differently after marrying into my father’s more traditional Hokkien family.

Over time, I kept adjusting the recipe with each passing year. Each year brought small refinements, and gradually the nonya character became more distinct - the first real turning point being the removal of hae bee (dried shrimp) and an increase in coriander powder. What had once been experimentation slowly became something more intentional, as though I was uncovering rather than inventing it. I have continued this annual practice ever since, and this year I went further, making adjustments to both the ingredients and the cooking method. The filling was made more savoury; the rice given more depth with extra garlic, fresh and fried shallots; and salt added to the boiling water to prevent dilution of flavours during cooking. The outcome felt closer than ever to what I had been seeking.

Looking back, what stands out is not the technical evolution of the recipe, but the emotional thread running through it. Making nonya chang has become a quiet way of staying connected - to my heritage, my parents, and their histories. More than that, it has gradually become part of who I am.

Here's my latest recipe >> Nonya Chang 2026

Here's a quick explanation to what the festival is: >> The festival commemorates the patriot and poet Qu Yuan and celebrates the enduring values of loyalty, remembrance, and community. These days, families mark the occasion by enjoying the bak chang or rice dumplings together, watching or participating in dragon boat races, and gathering to preserve cultural traditions across generations. 

Choot Bee Png (Glutinous Rice)

Let me capture the recipe for my choot bee png or 糯米饭(glutinous rice) here. This is the hokkien version and my mum used to cook it during the Seven Fairy Festival (that falls on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month). During this festival, she will cook this dish, sweet porridge (rice and mung bean porridge) as offerings. In addition, we will see make up powder, perfumes and 7 flowers on the altar table. And after the prayers is over, she will throw the flowers onto the roof... we don’t see it being practiced these days.

Anyway, here's the recipe for the glutinous rice:

Ingredients
2 cups of glutinous rice
80-100g of dried shrimps (more if you like stronger taste)
10-12 shallots (or 3-4 large onions) (use the purple ones or its equivalent in qty of shallots)
200g of pork belly (not too fatty unless you like pork fats)
5-8 dried shiitake mushrooms

1 - 2 chinese sausage (depending on preference)

2 tablespoon of oil (personally i prefer to use sesame oil)
dark soy sauce for colouring

light soy sauce to taste
oyster sauce to taste

dash of pepper to taste

Garnishing

fried shallots

spring onions

salted peanuts

Preparation

wash the rice and soak in water for about 1-2 hour. then drain off the water. the soaking will help the rice cook faster. wash and soak the shiitake mushrooms, cut into slices. wash the dried shrimps and drain off the water. then soak it in water for an hour. you can use the water from soaking the mushroom and the dried shrimps to cook the rice later. it makes excellent stock. cut pork belly into strips. you can boil the pork belly first before you cut it. cooked meat is much easier to cut. also, the resultant stock from boiling the pork belly can be used to cook the rice later. next, dice the shallots/ large onions.

Cooking

heat the oil in the wok. throw in the pork belly and let it fry till the pork strips turn a bit brown, then add in the chinese sausage. let them fry sufficiently to char the sausage a bit and to extract the oil from both the pork belly and sausage. throw in the diced shallots/ onions and fry till it is translucent (it should take about 1min of frying). put in the soaked dried shrimp and continue to fry for about 2min or until the fragrant emerges (this is to allow the ingredients to mix well). pour in shiitake mushrooms and let it simmer for 1 minute. pour in the glutinous rice. add the light and dark soya sauce, and pepper to taste. fry for another 1min or so to allow the rice to be fully soaked in the onion, pork, sausage, mushroom and dried shrimp mix. transfer the half cooked rice to the rice cooker. add water as necessary and let it cook in the rice cooker.

Serving

Serve the glutinous rice with the salted peanuts, fried shallots and spring onion. The dish will also go very well with chinese dried chilli oil, sambal belachan, or cut chilli depending on preferences.

Grateful 3 & 4 Jun: Anchor

I have often gravitate towards significant events, meaningful encounters, or important lessons in my gratitude journals and have not paid enough attention to the simple things that quietly support my day-to-day life. So, in this post, let me give thanks for: 

• Sunshine. It's been bright and sunny these past 2 days. Rather than complaining about the heat, let me give thanks for the sunshine that brightens my day and allows me to go about my daily routines, whether it is heading to the coffee shop for my kopi-o kosong, doing my exercises around the estate, or simply enjoying a walk outdoors. It is such a simple thing, yet it brings a sense of ease and freedom that I often take for granted.

• Friends. These past 2 days, many people have checked in on me, and this evening, I met my ex-colleague turned friend D for dinner. So let me give thanks for them. These seemingly small gestures keep me connected and remind me that, even though I enjoy solitude, I am not alone. They reassure me that there are people who think of me, care about me, and remain part of my life. 

• Home. My home provides me with a comfortable space to rest, escape from the heat, work, and simply be myself. It is more than just a place to live. Reflecting on the past 3 decades, it has been the backdrop to countless moments shared with my parents, past partners, and my dog. It is also a place where my siblings and their families, relatives, friends, and colleagues have gathered. In many ways, it quietly holds the story of my life. 

So yes, these are things that feature so naturally in my daily life that I rarely stop to notice them. Yet they form the foundation upon which so much else rests. And I am deeply grateful to these people and things that is such an integral part of my life.

Grateful 19 Apr: Small Moments

I will focus on little moments that I’m grateful for today: 

• Compliments. I’m grateful for the unexpected thank you and compliment I received from a peer trainer today. She shared that she achieved a 4.8 (out of 5) rating for her training, which was her first time conducting a difficult module. Her message came as a surprise. I’m grateful for the trust she placed in me and that I could support her in some way. 

• Calm & Collected.I’m grateful for the calm I felt after visiting the temple this afternoon. I had spent the morning at home working and felt the need for a pause. The visit, though impromptu, turned out to be timely - it coincided with the god’s upcoming birthday, and I was able to make my annual donation and update my records. The quiet and familiarity brought a sense of steadiness.

• Bak Chor Mee. It’s been a long while since I had bak chor mee, and it tasted especially good today. I forgot to ask for mee kia and was given mee pok instead. It reminded me of mum - her preferred choice. A small oversight, but one that brought back a warm memory. I’m grateful for that. 

The moments may be simple, but they brought calm, warmth, and a quiet satisfaction in being part of someone’s progress today.

Between Worlds

I was on holiday with my mum.

We were in a coach and had arrived at a shopping centre for a short break. The coach parked at the coach parking bay. It was drizzling lightly, and I quickly wheeled her - she was in a wheelchair - into the building. As the glass doors slid open, what greeted us was a brightly lit tennis court with people playing. Mum, in her usual critical way, remarked that the place was “lousy” - how could a shopping centre have a tennis court instead of shops right at the entrance? I laughed and told her to suspend judgement, since we had just arrived, and that the main shopping area was probably upstairs. We just needed to take the travelator up. 

Then things shifted. 

I suddenly realised I was completely naked. It didn’t feel right to be walking around like that, especially in public and in an unfamiliar place. There were many people around, and feeling self-conscious, I started looking for a toilet. Luckily, there was one nearby, and I went into a cubicle to change. It was an interesting toilet. Light blue in colour, brightly lit and very high ceiling. There was no urinal nor shower head, just an empty space. At that moment, I realised I hadn’t brought any clothes, but somehow I had a pair of black boxer shorts and a singlet in my carry-on pouch. Whew, I thought. And just as I was about to put them on, someone pushed the cubicle door open. It was a little boy… 

Then things became a blur. 

I found myself wondering where my mum was. It seemed like I had been away for quite some time. Was she still waiting for me outside the toilet? Had she gone back to the coach? And then… my thoughts and the scene shifted. Was she in her room? In the living room? Was she back in Marine Parade, our old home? I felt a sense of panic. It took a couple of seconds before it registered - Mum has been gone for more than a decade. What I am left with is not so much the dream itself, but how real that moment felt. For those few seconds, she was simply there again, and I was just going about things with her as I always had. 

I was fully awake by then.

The dream itself got me curious. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Why was I naked? Why was I with my mum? Why did a little boy suddenly appear? I don’t quite have the answers. But what I do notice is that I tend to dream of my mum during moments when I might need some form of support. Perhaps it is less about the details of the dream, and more about what her presence represents. Or perhaps it is simply a reminder of the bond between us. Not something I actively think about after her passing so long ago, but something that continues to surface. 

Again and again.

Grateful - 13 Feb: Body

I’m not sure if this is a Singapore senior citizen thing or a universal one - people sending “Good Morning” messages and pictures to every contact in their phone. I’m in several chat groups and wake up to a flood of them daily. Most mornings, I delete them without even looking. But today, when my buddy sent me the above, I paused and appreciated it. So in today’s gratitude journal, I’m giving thanks to things that happen so naturally, until they don’t.

• Breathing. No explanation seems necessary. It is so automatic that we rarely notice it - until it becomes difficult. In 2017/ 2018, I found myself gasping for air frequently. My lungs always felt half full and I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt like a fish out of water. Once, while holidaying in Japan, I blacked out. That eventually led to the discovery of a blocked artery. I underwent an angioplasty and had a stent inserted. Since then, breathing has returned to being what it should be - effortless. For that, I am deeply thankful.

• Drinking. We also take for granted the simple act of swallowing - of fluids aka drinking; of solids aka eating. Let me focus on drinking here. Drinking and ensuring fluids do not “go down the wrong hole” is something most of us never think about. My mum struggled with this in her final years. When she choked, it was scary - violent coughing that sometimes led to bronchitis. I would remind her gently to tuck her chin down before swallowing. Either I or my domestic helper had to supervise her whenever she drank, water or soup. It was exhausting for her, and sobering for me to witness.

• Eating. Here, I will reflect on swallowing of solids: Eating. Eating sustains us and often, brings us joy. Yet recently, I was reminded how fragile that ability can be. My friend with oesophageal cancer can no longer swallow properly. When we met two days ago, he could only sip small amounts of soup while watching D and I eat. It was a quiet, humbling moment.

So today, I give thanks for my ability to breathe, drink, and eat - simple acts that nourishes the body. Caring for my mum taught me that, in the end, much of life comes down to these basics. Breathing. Drinking. Eating. And also, excreting: sweating, peeing, shitting. Strip everything away, and it really is that simple. For being able to do these ordinary things smoothly today, I am grateful.

CNY & I (a Singaporean Chinese)

It is less than a week to Chinese New Year, and the rush has begun. When I was at Bedok Mall earlier, the supermarket was crowded despite it being a working weekday. People were stocking up for reunion dinners and CNY visits. I am sure some families will have their reunion dinners early before flying off for a holiday this weekend. Heading overseas during public holidays is a very Singaporean instinct. But CNY always brings us back to the table. For my family, our dining table tells a story.

My late mother is Straits-born - Peranakan - and food is serious business for nonyas. My paternal side traces its roots to Fujian, rich in Hokkien traditions. Growing up, I never saw these as two distinct inheritances, they simply coexisted. During CNY, our dining table is filled with Peranakan dishes such as chap chai, babi pongteh, and curry chicken; and they sit comfortably beside Hokkien dishes that carry strong symbolism. We will definitely have the humble leek (picture above from 2024 CNY), or "sng" in Hokkien. “Sng” sounds like “count”, and thus eating "sng" is a must so that we will have money to count in the coming year. Such details are never treated lightly - they carry hope.

And in my adult years, there is the yusheng. The name itself, carry auspicious meanings of "excess" and "greater heights". We stand around the table, chopsticks raised, calling out auspicious phrases as we toss the raw fish and shredded vegetables. Yusheng was invented in Singapore and is distinctly us. It is now an indispensable CNY dish locally. I see similar unions of heritages at reunion tables of relatives and friends. Some more distinct such as in my case, my mother’s Straits-born roots, and my father’s direct connection to Fujian; and some less, such as when their parents hail from different provinces in China.

My siblings and I inherit both - not preserving them unchanged, but living them in our own way. Each of us has picked up different dishes from mum, and over time we have added new ones that we learned along the way. Around the table, languages flow between English, dialect and Mandarin. Some rituals are observed carefully; others are adapted to fit modern times. We may travel. We may send greetings over WhatsApp. But when we gather, we honour both where we came from and where we are rooted now. Most importantly, we celebrate culture, traditions, and family bonds.

Perhaps that is what it means to be a Singaporean Chinese - not a fixed identity tied to a single homeland, but something layered, lived and evolving. We celebrate our Chineseness in symbolism, in food, in reunion - yet it is unmistakably shaped by the Singapore context. Each year, as we sit before plates of chap chai and leek, as we toss yusheng and shout blessings into the air, we are not just welcoming a new year. We are continuing a story - and shaping it into something distinctly our own.

Family ties

Since young, my mum had drilled me to assume the role of the “head” of the family in my dad’s absence. For example, during major prayers, when my dad was at work, she would get me to lead - kneeling in front of the altar, holding the family joss sticks, and offer the prayers. To a kid no more than 6-7 years of age, it was a tad overwhelming but my mum knelt behind me and guided me on what to say.

That was my upbringing and I have, since my dad’s passing almost two decades ago, become the de facto head of the family, represented my family at my cousins’ weddings and later their children’s. It’s a heavy responsibility, but one I take on with honour and pride. Such traditional practices, founded on Confucian values, are still observed by many Chinese families.

My dad was the second eldest son and became head of his family after my paternal grandfather and eldest uncle passed on. His siblings - all his sisters and his only younger brother - would make it a point to visit us during CNY to pay their respects (to my dad) and celebrate family ties. I deeply respect such traditional practices and have continued to observe them.

With my dad and uncles gone, my aunts and cousins no longer visit us. They are now the elders, and I, in turn, make it a point to buy CNY gifts for them and visit them during festivals. My aunts and cousins, on the other hand, will make it a point to invite me to join them for their family reunions and occasional dinners. Just me, not my siblings.

I appreciate their invitations and gestures. I enjoy these annual and regular get-togethers - they keep the family ties alive. But I also know that once my aunts pass on, these gatherings will stop. After all, as the Hokkien saying goes - monkeys will disperse once the tree falls. But for now, as long as the tree stands, we will continue to meet.

Looking forward to next week’s CNY reunion dinner with my aunt’s family. She has called me several times over the past couple of weeks - to remind me and ask what dishes I want to eat. And she had also reminded me - don’t buy anything too expensive, just something simple is good enough.

Heh…

Picture from https://studycli.org/learn-chinese/chinese-family-tree/

Grateful - 28 Jan: Giving & Getting Help

Today, I want to focus on people. I gave an elderly friend a haircut, received Chinese New Year goodies from another, and, as always, was reminded of the many friends and family who consistently support and encourage me. Here are the details:

• It is gratifying to have the ability to help others. Today, it was my ability to cut people’s hair. I’m not formally trained, but I’ve observed hairdressers closely, and over time, I’ve been able to give simple haircuts to my mom, dad, brother, nieces and nephews, ex, and lately, friends - or anyone willing to let me try. Today, I gave an elderly friend a haircut. Last year after cutting his hair, he said it’s a tad too short, but two days later, he texted again to say how nice it looks. And similarly, he said it’s too short again this year, despite checking with him on the length constantly. Haha… Regardless, I’m glad I could bring a smile to him, and I truly appreciate his curry chicken for me.

• I am grateful to my friend (the one who has esophageal cancer) for stopping by with a bagful of Chinese New Year cookies and a box of bak kwa (sweetened pork jerky). As I was away, he left it outside my door. I imagine this is his way of showing appreciation for my visits to him at the hospital, and for the friendship we’ve shared over the short months I’ve known him. Whatever the reason, I’m glad I could bring him some cheer, and I have enjoyed our moments together.

• Lastly, I am grateful to friends and family who consistently support and encourage me. I’m reminded of them daily through the food I enjoy. And today, I had home-cooked chicken curry (thanks to J, point 1 above), stewed chicken with mushrooms and bananas (thanks to my sister), kefir (from a dear friend who made a difference in my life last year), and, of course, Chinese New Year goodies (thanks to T, point 2 above).

Even though I may be living on my own, my life feels enriched not just by experiences, but also by the people around me. People may come and go, but recognizing this transient nature of relationships allows me to move past previous misgivings, appreciate the present, and avoid placing too many expectations from them for the future.

Grateful - 27 Jan: Connections

Since many months ago, I would close my glass door, windows, my curtains etc when evenings come and I will blast my tv with songs or watch some senseless shows. This is to allow me to drown off the noises from the kids screaming at the playground down stairs. It can be a tad overwhelming. And this underpin what I want to reflect today as part of my gratitude journal. I cannot be enough grateful for the following:

• I am grateful for the presence of technology - Wi-Fi, TV, and so on - which has allowed me an escape, apart from the many day-to-day conveniences. On some days, it kept me company; on other days, it gave me the sanity I needed, especially when I really needed it. At times, it’s simply there as white noise in the background while I do my housework. Above all, the environment we live in today is vastly different from what I experienced growing up. Technology is just so pervasive in our lives now. I am grateful to be able to enjoy it and to experience these contrasts. Lest I take things for granted, I should savour and be grateful for what I have today, rather than focusing too much on what could go wrong - especially when it comes to technology.

• I am grateful for being able to speak multiple languages. It has allowed me to make connections easily across different cultures. Today, a technician came to my place to install a new router, and from his WhatsApp messages, I noticed that he couldn’t really converse in proper English. From speaking with him, I realised he is from Malaysia. He was pleasantly surprised that I could speak Malay, and it immediately made him feel much more comfortable. So, back to gratitude - I’m grateful to my mum for teaching me the language and for the multicultural environment I was brought up in. I am an enriched person simply by being born into this place, to my mum.

• This last paragraph is dedicated to someone I’ve known for more than a decade via Grindr (or maybe Jack’d). We met up for “fun” occasionally but didn’t keep much contact - it was, after all, a connection rooted in the pleasures of the flesh. We stopped communicating for most of my last relationship, although once in a while he would drop me a message to check in and see if I was doing okay. We re-established contact after my breakup and have been in touch more regularly, especially over the past couple of months. I could sense his care and concern for me, and I noticed how he made special efforts, such as arranging birthday dinners. I think it’s only appropriate to dedicate a paragraph to him. I admit that I miss him and his texts on days when he doesn’t check in. I am grateful that he is in my life.

So yes, today’s post is a tad long, but that’s only fitting, given the reflections that come with journaling.

Burning Smell

The air has been heavy with a burning smell over the past week or so, and on a day or two, I could have sworn it even looked hazy. I am also seeing people complaining about it and how they have experienced difficulties in breathing, etc. All these felt oddly nostalgic. It reminded me of the days when the country was blanketed in thick haze and carried the unmistakable smell of forest burning. That was probably more than a decade ago, when my mum and my dog were still around.

Because of that, the haze and smell over the past week stirred a sense of nostalgia in me. While it was undeniably uncomfortable, a small part of me wished it would linger a little longer. I suppose that’s just how memories work. For now, it’s enough to appreciate it for what it is - to “enjoy” it while it’s here, and just experience it while it is around. No judgment, no anger, no frustration. Just acceptance that it will eventually pass once the burning in the region stops.

https://www.facebook.com/NEASingapore/photos/hotspots-continue-to-be-observed-north-of-singapore-due-to-vegetation-fires-with/1202307645376982/

Food & I

It has been a long while since I last wrote anything about “xxx and I”, or about my relationship with a particular subject. So today, I thought I would reflect a little on my relationship with food. Most, if not all, of my key interactions with people I know - relatives, friends, exes, colleagues and others - have taken place over meals. Food is an essential part of my life, and I dare say, everyone’s life. Some of my most memorable moments involving food are captured in the snippets below:

• My earliest memory of food was shredded fried batang fish with chopped chye sim, eaten with white rice drenched in water and a bit of soya sauce. My mum often made this for me when I was a child. She would feed me spoonful by spoonful as I ran around the open spaces of our landlord’s house. It was simple fare, reflective of the days when we were poor and life was much simpler. Yet to toddler-me, it tasted heavenly. I would pester my mum to make it as often as she could.

• Growing up poor, we could afford to eat chicken only 2 or 3 times a year - during Chinese New Year, the Celestial God’s Birthday and the Hungry Ghost Festival. There may have been 1 or 2 other occasions, but these were the ones I remember most clearly. Essentially, we ate chicken only when it was offered to the gods during prayers. It was prepared simply - boiled and rubbed with salt. Whole chicken carcasses were offered to the gods, and salt was the most appropriate preparation (for offerings to the deceased, the chicken would be chopped).

• During my younger days, my dad worked at the airport delivering meals to planes or clearing leftover, unconsumed food. Back then, controls were far less strict, and he would sometimes bring trays of untouched chicken thighs/ drumsticks home in the middle of the night. We would get very excited whenever he did. Occasionally, he would also order takeaway hor fun to go with it, much to our delight. Mum would keep the leftovers and steam them for our breakfast the next day.

• As a teenager, I was literally a bottomless pit. At my peak, I could eat 7 bowls of rice, 2 chicken burgers, 6 doughnuts, 1 roti john and a packet of Hokkien noodles at a go. Looking back, I have no idea how I managed it. My mum often cooked extra rice at night because I was perpetually hungry, and I would prepare fried rice for my supper almost every evening - so I had pork fried rice, chye sim fried rice, seafood fried rice, etc. I also bought doughnuts and dim sum frequently during those years. Puberty really is quite something.

• My mum was very strict - and rather unquestioning - about religious practices. She had been brought up to believe that Buddhists should not consume beef. As a result, we were not allowed to eat beef. Eventually, I learnt that Buddhism does not prohibit the consumption of beef. I first tasted beef by accident during my uni days, when I ate a curry puff at a potluck lunch. My mouth went numb afterwards. Over time, I noticed that this happened whenever I ate beef. It took me several months to get used to it, but I enjoy beef now. Steak? Yes - medium rare.

• I celebrate major occasions with food. One memory that stands out is a Mother’s Day dinner in the mid-1990s. I had just started working and wanted to treat my mum to a nice meal. I made a reservation at a Chinese restaurant for the family. We enjoyed the food, but when my mum found out that the dinner cost over $500, she complained that it was expensive, not value for money, and the food was not even nice. She insisted I had wasted my money and that we would have been better off eating at home. That dinner became her annual gripe every Mother’s Day until she passed on - a classic example of cost versus generational mindset.

• I have travelled widely and tried many different cuisines over the years. That said, I often find myself craving rice after some time. Perhaps it is something ingrained in me from young, tied to my southern Chinese heritage. I need rice to feel sustained - it doesn't matter whether its basmati, pearl short-grain or Thai fragrant rice. I recall spending six months in Tampa, Florida, on a work attachment in the early 2000s. After two weeks of sandwiches, bread and pasta, I couldn't take it and I had to cook my own rice-based meals. That was the same for my Asian peers! We simply missed rice too much.

• Apart from rice, there is one other essential: chilli - or more specifically, malay chilli pastes, or sambal. When I trained overseas for extended periods, I will not fail to ask my mum to prepare a bottle of sambal belachan for me, especially when I was heading to Taiwan. It is not that they lack chilli there, but I was brought up in a Peranakan and South-East Asian environment, and I am accustomed to the spices of this region. It has become part of my identity as a Singaporean, or more broadly, as a South-East Asian. I feel completely at home with the cuisines of Singapore, Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, the Philippines and beyond.

• I enjoy trying all kinds of food and have savoured delicacies from many countries and continents. People often ask me what my favourite cuisine is. To tell you the truth, I do not have a specific favourite. I am not particularly picky, and every place has its own distinctive flavours. I enjoy whatever I eat at wherever I visit. I feel blessed by the rich food experiences I have had. They have allowed me to connect more deeply with people. Food, after all, is an extension of culture.

• That said, there was one particularly repulsive food experience that remains vivid in my memory - fresh snake blood. During my national service days, as part of survival training, we were required to kill and prepare live animals for food. And so, we were given live chickens, iguanas, pythons, rabbits, frogs and turtles, etc. I still recall a python being hung up and dangled from the second floor, we had to severe its head and consume the blood as it flowed. The taste was cold, salty and metallic. It was an experience I will never forget.

• I have a sweet tooth. I enjoy cakes (tiramisu, Black Forest, carrot cake, chocolate mousse, etc) as well as ice cream (rum and raisin, cookies and cream, peanut butter), cookies, macarons, and all kinds of Malay and Peranakan desserts such as chendol, bubur terigu, bubur cha cha, pengat and all sorts of kueh kueh. Desserts have become such a natural part of my meals that I instinctively leave space for them. To me, anything coconut-based is good - and this probably explains my love for curries and many Malay and Peranakan desserts. That said, I am not a big fan of South Asian desserts, which I find overly sweet.

• I once travelled to Israel for work and was struck by the warmth and hospitality of my host. I was hosted to lunch and was served an enormous spread of bread and condiments - hummus, olives, jams and more. Wanting to show my appreciation, I ate a bit of everything. Just as I was completely full and ready to stop, my host cheerfully announced, “Alright, now let’s enjoy the mains.” OMG! I could say the same of Middle Eastern hospitality in places like Abu Dhabi and Dubai - long meals, abundant food, and an emphasis on generosity. I always ended up eating far more than I have space for.

• I once attended a wedding in Hyderabad with colleagues and was assigned a chaperone for the 3-day celebrations. From early morning to late night, we were constantly fed vegetarian food. The chaperone’s job was to ensure we were well fed - and we certainly were. And the amount and spread was humongous! By the end, we were desperate for meat. On the final day, we were taken to a famous Hyderabad dum biryani restaurant, where we were served heaps of fragrant rice and chicken, along with countless side dishes. Many of us swore off vegetarian food for months after that trip.

• The first meal with my first partner was at a zichar place at Simpang Bedok. We ordered a couple of dishes including salted vegetable soup with tofu and seafood. I later learned that he thought the soup tasted like dishwater as he disliked watery soups and preferred thick, gooey, strong flavoured ones such as sharks fin, sweet sour soup, etc. Added to that, he has a preference for western fare such as steaks, pasta, sandwiches, etc.

• My last partner loved good food and always wanted me to bring him to good restaurants. It was not uncommon to hear him say things like, "You never bring me to this place or that place". I always end up being chided for not bringing him to taste whatever food I had eaten before whenever I mentioned about any specific eatery to him. 

• I am not too fussy about food.  I believe that food is for sustenance, i.e. eating to live and not the other way round - living to eat. Also, I cannot really differentiate between good, better or best food. But of cos, I can draw a clear distinction between good and bad food and there remain some things that I will not eat. Then again, taste is subjective - one man’s meat is another man’s poison. Being practical and simple, I value company and convenience over type of food I eat. I will not bother to join long queues for food at any eateries, no matter how good the food is. 

So yeah, above were some of my key reflections/ memories related to food. I totally agree with the saying - the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Afterall, food defines a large part of a person's identity, culture and life experiences. My reflections above is a testament to this.

2 Dec 1932

If my mum were still around, she would have celebrated her 93rd birthday yesterday. 

2 December has, and will always, make me feel warm inside, knowing that it was a special day for her and for everyone in the family - especially me. I never failed to celebrate this special day for her with a pandan kaya cake - the only cake she’d take as she abhors anything buttery!

Happy birthday Mum - wherever you are now!

:-)

image from https://bengawansolo.sg/pandan-kaya.html

Right before me!

I’ve been wanting to give away my mum’s blouses for the longest time. It has been 10 years since her passing, and I’ve never quite been able to bring myself to do it because of the deep sentimental value. 

I’ve considered donating them to the Salvation Army, temples, and so on, but given the number of blouses, transporting them would be a logistical challenge, so I never explored those options further. A friend who works at a temple suggested giving them to NGOs that support disaster victims. I decided against that, as these are good-quality blouses and probably not suitable for that purpose. 

So I ended up asking friends who have elderly family members at home, as well as friends in their mid-60s who might know elderly people who could use them. All of them eventually replied that they couldn’t accept the blouses. Then it suddenly hit me yesterday that I have a friend who volunteers at her church as part of their social outreach, and most (if not all) of the people she supports are elderly. I asked her - and she replied almost immediately that yes, she would take the blouses! 

It’s amazing how I spent so much time looking everywhere, when the right person was just beside me all along (figuratively, of course)!

10th Year

16 Nov marked the 10th year of my mum’s passing. Time really flies! Will be paying a visit to the columbarium to pay my respects later. 

Still missing her after all these years… 

Weird Dreams

I had 2 weird dreams this morning.

The setting of the first dream was that of a classroom and I was attending some course. The trainer was going through some content and preparing us for an exam. At the end of the lesson, he told us some content related to sustainability had been missed out in the notes provided but would be assessed. He then went on to answer a call on his mobile. The call went for sometime and I took the initiative to dismiss the class and he nodded his head to thank me. 

 

Before leaving the place, I decided to head to the toilet and the trainer said he needed to go too. We chatted as we walked. He asked me if I drove, and I replied I didn’t and will be taking public transport. Then I realised it was already past 1am and public transport had ceased. For a while, I thought he wanted to give me a lift… heh!

 

At the toilet, I went to the urinal and he headed to the cubicle. It was then that a few other trainers came into the toilet and chatted with him. He left quickly once he’s done without even bidding me farewell. Our conversation ended too abruptly and I was left hanging. It was raining outside. I regretted not riding my motorbike to class and had to book a grab.

The dream ended there. It was a random dream that made no sense to me. I woke up feeling a little stressed and confused due to the impending exams but quickly realised it was just a dream. It was 3:30am and I decided to head back to sleep. Then I had my second dream…

I was standing at the bus stop opposite my condo waiting for my bus. I was facing away from the road thinking about something. When I turned around, I saw my mum. She was stark naked and on all fours on the ground! I asked her why was she naked. She looked at me, got up and started to dress herself.

The dream ended there and I woke up again. 3:55am. Again, I couldn’t make sense of the dream. I decided not to sleep after that…

Weird. 

Conversing in Malay

It’s been so long since I conversed in proper Malay - the spoken Malay sans any Chinese accent. It was something I could do and was comfortable with, given my mum’s Peranakan background, and I did so quite easily during my younger days, both at work and, at times, at home with my mum and my Malay neighbours.

You see, my mum was Peranakan, and her lingua franca was the Peranakan Malay language - a language that is very similar to Bahasa Melayu - the language that malays used. And similar to the Malay culture, we would eat with our hands, have sambal and spicy food as part of our normal diet, etc. During my growing-up years, mum would drill me in the Malay language, patiently teaching me the Malay terms for things around me. Till her later years, we would still converse in Hokkien with a smattering of Malay words. I’ve lost touch with it ever since mum passed on. But my familiarity with the culture and language have allowed me interact intimately with the Malay community to this day.

Two weeks ago, I was placed in an environment where people around me were almost entirely Malays. It was an interesting experience for me, as it allowed me to re-enter a world and culture that I’m very familiar with. Admittedly, I hesitated a little initially, as I had lost touch with the language, but eventually decided that the best way to integrate was to speak it. It started somewhat awkwardly, but things smoothed out with a little practice. I also made the effort to behave similarly and ate communally with everyone, using my hands. I even took it upon myself to wipe clean the floor after our meals.

 

I also made very nuanced and simple gestures - such as sharing an orange, passing packets of rice to people around me, eating only when everyone had their rice, etc. - in my efforts to assimilate. I could sense their quiet acceptance of me as “one of them” very quickly. Surprisingly, during one of their chats, one of them commented (in Malay, of course): Wahhhh, baru beberapa hari, dia sekarang boleh berbual-bual melayu sama kita… (wahhhh, it's only been a few days, he can now chat in Malay with us...). Interestingly, I also sensed them using more English when they reached out to me, and I appreciated it. These gestures told me I had been accepted by them - no further questions asked. 

And this reinforced my belief in the notion that “when in Rome, do what the Romans do”. I was glad I did - and it made the days pass so much easier.

9th Anniversary

Today marks the 9th anniversary of my mum's demise. Had made the trip to the columbarium to pay my respects to her last weekend in order to avoid bumping into my brother.

Time flies indeed.

9.9 - A special day

According to traditional Hokkien beliefs, herbs are at their most potent on the 9th day of the 9th month in the lunar calendar, a day celebrated as the Chongyang Festival. 

This day also coincides with the birthday of the Nine Heavenly Emperors, which was once a major event for many Taoists. As a child in the 1970s, my mother would take me to the temple, where worshippers, all dressed in white, would wear yellow wristbands to ward off evil and follow a vegetarian diet. Menstruating women were considered 'unclean' and were not allowed in the temple. In the evening, the temples would carry the deities in vibrant parades along major roads, with crowds lining the streets to join in the celebrations.

At home, the day always started with a large pot of herbal chicken soup. Everyone in the family was required to drink at least one bowl. This soup wasn’t just for warding off diseases—it helped to strengthen the body as the weather turned cooler with the approach of winter. On this day, the herbal soup was made to be more 'yang,' or heaty, to boost immunity and protect the body from colds and flu.

These memories of Chongyang Festival remind me of how traditions intertwine with both culture and health. Even now, taking herbal soup on this day feels like a way to connect with both my heritage and my well-being. 

Time for a bowl of soup!