As hard as it is to believe, I've been bitten by the cooking bug ever since I started Italian cooking lessons. Classes are pretty easy to follow and I've picked up quite a few tips and new recipes. I realised that cooking is fun! Yay! Spent 2 backbreaking hours yesterday making massive amounts fresh pasta at a girlfriend's place. There was flour everywhere after we were through. A lot of work but well worth the effort!
Stephen has been a rather good sport and have been happy to eat whatever I dish out. Some recipes turned out brilliantly while others... erm... well... flopped! Tried baking chocolat cake the other day and the cake turned out too moist and the chocolate ganache turned out... well not so ganache-y. Not exactly my finest moment. There's still half a cake left in the fridge and I don't know what to do with it. Can't even feed it to Cooper since it's full of chocolate.
Gonna try my hand at lasagne tonight. Will let you know how it goes.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Lost In Translation
This is what happens when you send the Husband out on an errand.
I asked Stephen to buy 15 sticks of satay from our favourite roadside hawker on his way back from work. Here in Jakarta, most roadside hawkers do not understand a word of English so we usually communicate with a mixture of broken Bahasa Indonesia and sign language.
Just before Stephen stepped out of the car to place his order, Stephen had the following conversation with Jamhuri, our driver:
Stephen: What's 15 in Bahasa Indonesia?
Jamhuri: Lima puluh (which is 50 in Bahasa. I suppose you can imagine the mayhem that's about to follow.)
Stephen: Ok. Thanks!
Stephen told the hawker that he wanted "lima puluh" sticks of satay ayam and 2 lontong (ketupats). He was feeling so proud of himself for ordering in Bahasa. The hawker was very happy to take his order and proceeded to pile on sticks after sticks of satay on the grill.
Stephen: Stop stop stop (gesticulating wildly)! I only want lima puluh (when he actually meant lima belas).
Hawker: Ya ya (points to grill). Lima puluh!
Stephen, sensing something was amiss, decided to get Jamhuri.
Stephen: Jamhuri, I only want FIFTEEN sticks of satay.
Jamhuri: Yes. Fifteen. Lima puluh.
Stephen: No No that's too much!
Jamhuri: Ya! I think too much also. I think better for you FIFTY sticks. Lima belas. Lima puluh too many sticks for you!
Stephen: But but but...
Jamhuri: Oh! Sorry sir! I thought you wanted FIFTEEN sticks. FIFTEEN is LIMA PULUH. FIFTY is LIMA BELAS.
Stephen: *LOST*
And for those of you who are, like the Husband, equally lost, 15 is lima belas while 50 is lima puluh. Jamhuri thought it was the other way around in English (Fifty = 15 and Fifteen = 50). The clueless Husband didn't know any better ended up ordering 50 sticks when all he wanted was 15. We eventually wound up with 50 sticks of satay and had to share them with Jamhuri and the guards.
I asked Stephen to buy 15 sticks of satay from our favourite roadside hawker on his way back from work. Here in Jakarta, most roadside hawkers do not understand a word of English so we usually communicate with a mixture of broken Bahasa Indonesia and sign language.
Just before Stephen stepped out of the car to place his order, Stephen had the following conversation with Jamhuri, our driver:
Stephen: What's 15 in Bahasa Indonesia?
Jamhuri: Lima puluh (which is 50 in Bahasa. I suppose you can imagine the mayhem that's about to follow.)
Stephen: Ok. Thanks!
Stephen told the hawker that he wanted "lima puluh" sticks of satay ayam and 2 lontong (ketupats). He was feeling so proud of himself for ordering in Bahasa. The hawker was very happy to take his order and proceeded to pile on sticks after sticks of satay on the grill.
Stephen: Stop stop stop (gesticulating wildly)! I only want lima puluh (when he actually meant lima belas).
Hawker: Ya ya (points to grill). Lima puluh!
Stephen, sensing something was amiss, decided to get Jamhuri.
Stephen: Jamhuri, I only want FIFTEEN sticks of satay.
Jamhuri: Yes. Fifteen. Lima puluh.
Stephen: No No that's too much!
Jamhuri: Ya! I think too much also. I think better for you FIFTY sticks. Lima belas. Lima puluh too many sticks for you!
Stephen: But but but...
Jamhuri: Oh! Sorry sir! I thought you wanted FIFTEEN sticks. FIFTEEN is LIMA PULUH. FIFTY is LIMA BELAS.
Stephen: *LOST*
And for those of you who are, like the Husband, equally lost, 15 is lima belas while 50 is lima puluh. Jamhuri thought it was the other way around in English (Fifty = 15 and Fifteen = 50). The clueless Husband didn't know any better ended up ordering 50 sticks when all he wanted was 15. We eventually wound up with 50 sticks of satay and had to share them with Jamhuri and the guards.
Insert Foot In Mouth
I suppose most of you would have heard Stephen happily relating the story of how I asked a Muslim satayman for pork satay. The satayman was game enough to play along and told me that they were all sold out. I was feeling rather disappointed until Stephen pointedly reminded me of my faux pas.
Oops!
Well, I've gone and done it again! *grimace*
I was at the supermarket and wanted to buy ham for breakfast. I couldn't decide between the Danish ham or the smoked leg ham so without much thought, I asked the Malay dude in English which one tastes better. He just gave me a blank look. I figured he didn't quite understand me so I repeated the question but this time in Bahasa Indonesia. He thought for a moment, looked at the prices and pointed to the more expensive one. I can totally imagine that he was mentally rolling his eyes at me. Well, at least he was nice enough to play along as well.
Oops!
Well, I've gone and done it again! *grimace*
I was at the supermarket and wanted to buy ham for breakfast. I couldn't decide between the Danish ham or the smoked leg ham so without much thought, I asked the Malay dude in English which one tastes better. He just gave me a blank look. I figured he didn't quite understand me so I repeated the question but this time in Bahasa Indonesia. He thought for a moment, looked at the prices and pointed to the more expensive one. I can totally imagine that he was mentally rolling his eyes at me. Well, at least he was nice enough to play along as well.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Favourite Days
... are days when it rains in the afternoons. We've had quite a few here lately. I'll make myself a hot cup of milo, put on my favourite CD and settle in for a good read. Cooper, on the other hand, hates rainy days with a vengeance. Rains here are usually accompanied by thunder and he'll be hiding under a table somewhere, trembling and cringing every time he hears the roar of thunder. Not exactly my idea of a guard dog.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Little Boys With Umbrellas
We have a good 5 days of holiday for Idul Fitri here in Jakarta. The streets are clear of traffic and it's quiet because about 80% of the people living here in Jakarta have already made the trip back to their kampungs. We have the city all to ourselves. Joy!
We drove ourselves, for the first time, to Grand Indonesia. Grand Indonesia is a huge shopping mall and it's next to Plaza Indonesia which is an even huge-r mall. They're just across the street from each other but there isn't a sheltered walkway betwen the two. It started pouring while we were in one of the malls and we couldn't make our way back to our car, which was parked in the other mall. While we were contemplating whether we should brave the rain and make a run for it, up came 2 little boys with an umbrella offering to ferry us across for a small fee. How enterprising I thought! We took them up on the offer and they sheltered us across the street. After our brief encounter with them, I was gushing on about how enterprising these kids were and how they were working so hard to get a little bit of pocket money before Lebaran. That was until Stephen burst my little bubble. Stephen speculated that these boys probably were recruited in their village by some man who's putting them to work. While these boys were running around getting drenched in the rain, this evil evil man is probably sitting comfortably in a Starbucks somewhere sipping on his nice hot cuppa coffee, waiting for the boys will have to hand over their hard-earned cash to him at the end of the day.
Darn. I hope that's not true. So I'm going back to Grand Indonesia again today and hope that it'll rain so I can get to talk to one of these little boys with their umbrellas and find out the truth.
We drove ourselves, for the first time, to Grand Indonesia. Grand Indonesia is a huge shopping mall and it's next to Plaza Indonesia which is an even huge-r mall. They're just across the street from each other but there isn't a sheltered walkway betwen the two. It started pouring while we were in one of the malls and we couldn't make our way back to our car, which was parked in the other mall. While we were contemplating whether we should brave the rain and make a run for it, up came 2 little boys with an umbrella offering to ferry us across for a small fee. How enterprising I thought! We took them up on the offer and they sheltered us across the street. After our brief encounter with them, I was gushing on about how enterprising these kids were and how they were working so hard to get a little bit of pocket money before Lebaran. That was until Stephen burst my little bubble. Stephen speculated that these boys probably were recruited in their village by some man who's putting them to work. While these boys were running around getting drenched in the rain, this evil evil man is probably sitting comfortably in a Starbucks somewhere sipping on his nice hot cuppa coffee, waiting for the boys will have to hand over their hard-earned cash to him at the end of the day.
Darn. I hope that's not true. So I'm going back to Grand Indonesia again today and hope that it'll rain so I can get to talk to one of these little boys with their umbrellas and find out the truth.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Reading Interests
I was at Pejatan Village Mall the other day with Stephen. There's a Times bookshop on the groundfloor of the mall and we decided to pop in to have a look. Bought myself a book - "Eat. Pray. Love.". It's a pretty good read. I'm halfway through the book. Just finished the bit on when she was staying in an Ashram in India. Reading the book gave me wanderlust and I'm really aching to go travelling to India or someplace exotic to seek spiritual enlightenment.
While I was browsing through the novels, I chanced upon the magazine rack. The magazines were categorized according to reading interests. Under "Women's Interests" were the usual fashion, tabloids and cooking magazines. Under "Men's Interests" were also the usual magazines on cars, bodybuilding, and magazines with lots of half naked ladies on them. There was also another section under "Men's Interests" that had more intellectual reads such as The Economist, Newsweek, Bloomberg Businessweek et cetera.
I was pretty peeved at how they categorised these magazines. It's basically implying that women care for and read only frivolous topics while only the men are concerned about the economy and world affairs. Hey! I resent that stereotype! Women make up, more or less, half the work force! I, of course, had to bring this to the shop assistant's attention. He promptly shrugged and told me that's how it is in Indonesia. Pfffttt!
While I was browsing through the novels, I chanced upon the magazine rack. The magazines were categorized according to reading interests. Under "Women's Interests" were the usual fashion, tabloids and cooking magazines. Under "Men's Interests" were also the usual magazines on cars, bodybuilding, and magazines with lots of half naked ladies on them. There was also another section under "Men's Interests" that had more intellectual reads such as The Economist, Newsweek, Bloomberg Businessweek et cetera.
I was pretty peeved at how they categorised these magazines. It's basically implying that women care for and read only frivolous topics while only the men are concerned about the economy and world affairs. Hey! I resent that stereotype! Women make up, more or less, half the work force! I, of course, had to bring this to the shop assistant's attention. He promptly shrugged and told me that's how it is in Indonesia. Pfffttt!
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