Plans for retirement: Be a museum curator, make silly installations of things and proclaim them art & act insufferably snooty, eat cake, soak in little crystalline pools in Iona, walk lots, invent a coffee, paint & paint & paint & paint & paint, sculpt. What fun. Please.
Yesterday G, GH, S & I went warbling. They conspired to some kindness. G and I watched dancing by some persons upon the Givenchy stage, they tried I think to be provocative. Singapore is provincial. Read ST and it smacks of a medieval rag. Ehehe. |

Ehehe... went to Menotti twice in a week to take advantage of their outrageous one-for-one discount. The mains were rather mundane, to put it in a kind spirit. My chicken, or as ze waitress insisted, "pollo", advertised itself succulent with wine and native sauces, but came dry & mushy, and as teetotalling as could be. J's veal was similar in its disingenuity vis a vis ze menu. The shallow, mincing sauces were redolent not with ze Italian countryside, but tasted strangely Asian, and not deeply Asian either. The desserts were quite another matter, they rolled in sin and lushness. The tiramisu was moist and eggy and subtly balanced, the soffiato came to us with a dollop of surprisingly marvellous chocolate chip ice-cream and a melting heart of bittersweet cocoa. G had a "Baba", a rumgroggy sponge cake with aspirations. We tried some hot chocolates (Torrino, Madagascar), & a frozen vunne (Granita), all good, but the Venezuelan was to be lingered over, wafting her distinct jungle scents lightly in our chocolate-browned palates. Visited the new central library, eet was big and barish. We watched Jean Paul Gaultier models walk awkwardly. We had some dinner, ehehe. |