Pho Paradise!

4 days ago, I was introduced to a new restaurant in town. A Vietnamese restaurant to be exact. In the past, I am hardly excited by Vietnamese cuisine. I am more of a Thai cuisine kind of person, all for the hot and sour kind of taste.

The only Vietnamese dish I know is pho, the very traditional Vietnamese dish of beef rice noodles. And in my mind, that is a very super-duper dish. So super-duper that I had a major craving for it during my pregnancy last year. But guess what? There was no Vietnamese restaurant in MK then. So, pho took on a sort of mythical dimension and became THE dish to have whenever we visited London last year.

When I was told about the Vietnamese restaurant early this week, I went with tempered expectations. I mean, this is not London; we are just really suburbia out here. But I should have had more confidence. After all, I was going under the charge of my Vietnamese fren.

So there we were at the restaurant and she took care of the orders. I had only one must-have dish and that is of course, pho.  In Thai restaurants, the key dish to have and to judge the restaurant's food quality is tom yum soup; for Chinese restaurants, that would be hot and sour soup. And for Vietnamese, it would be pho. Besides pho, Thao's must-haves include the sizzling monkfish with herbs and the spring rolls. 


And boy, was she spot-on! The fish was stunning! I have never had a dish where the herbs make such a significant difference. The dill and lemongrass blended so well with the fried fish, but more than anything, the Vietnamese pepper makes a distinctly outstanding contribution. Coupled that with vermicelli, salad leaves in a sweet chilli dip, oooohhhh, I could eat this forever!  By the time the pho came, I was already sold. The pho was excellent - wonderful soup stock, thinly sliced, melt-in-the-mouth kind of beef and the thai chilli sauce gave it that extra zing. But there was no doubt - the star of the show is the fish... and it was only a starter, priced very decently at 7 pounds with 5 pieces of good-sized monkfish.


I raved about it at home. And even though, I gave Daddy Low 2 choices for his belated birthday dinner, I was pushing for it subtly (or maybe not so subtly as Daddy Low will say).  

And so back we went today with Julien in tow. And besides the pho and the monkfish, we ordered the grilled pork on a bed of shredded salad leaves and a sizzling baby squid dish.  I watched Daddy Low's expression as he took his first bite and his response was as effusive as mine. I think he too came with little expectations, and so was mightily pleasantly surprised. The fish was a hit; the grilled pork a winner; the squid dazzled and the pho absolutely rocked! It was an excellent dinner indeed. And somehow, J was just as happy with the restaurant, being content to sit in his highchair most of the time.


And as I sipped the delicious pho soup, I could see us coming back to this restaurant regularly, especially in the cold winter season, when one would happily slurp down a steaming hot bowl of fragrant beef noodle soup. And with that image, I thought of our days in America in 2005, when Daddy Low and I would drive out to the only Vietnamese restaurant in the small American town we lived in and pay way too much money for our favourite pho. As well as the cold winter days in Switzerland, when my dear fren Unhie and I would trek to a small Vietnamese eatery for the same noodle dish. Oh, pho holds a lot of fond memories for me indeed.


So with the Vietnamese restaurant on my foodie list ticked, and Jamie's Italian just newly opened in MK, all I have left now on my wishlist is a Japanese restaurant. A proper Japanese restaurant. Oh, for a good solid bowl of miso soup, some agedashi tofu, grilled ika or saba shio... Now, that would make me all set for winter now!

Feeling My Roots

Recently, I have surprised myself by having a liking to express myself in Chinese. Now, this is a bit of a odd thing to understand for foreigners, but my generation of Singaporean Chinese really largely communicates in English. I will not go into explaining the hows and the whys here, since it involves government thinking and policies that has affected a nation's perspective and proficiency of English and its various mother tongues. But suffice it to say that I am always tickled by the confusion and awe when I explain to non-Singaporeans about how my generation would communicate amongst ourselves largely in English, while with our parents' generation in our mother tongue and with our grandparents' generation in dialect...

Certainly, it does mean we, this generation, know quite a few languages. For me, I profess I know the rudiments of the other languages, with English being the exception, since it is my rice bowl :)  And while I laugh when foreigners tell me I can teach Mandarin in a foreign land, I too do feel regret inside that my proficiency of my mother tongue is not any better. I can speak the language fluently, but as a typical Singaporean, my use of Mandarin is often mixed with English and dialect and until we started having PRC Chinese friends, I did not know my Chinese vocabulary was severely limited!

So, hence this entry. Hence, my delight that I actually feel like expressing myself more in Mandarin these days.

Does being overseas make one miss home and appreciate one's roots more? Certainly! But more than anything, I think being a parent now, and an overseas parent at that, makes me feel more acutely the need to ensure my son knows his roots and culture. And language is, after all, the key to the culture. 

We agreed that I would speak Mandarin to J, while Daddy Low would do the English bit. But I must say that it feels more natural to speak to J in Mandarin, in part because we were so used to hearing my mum speak to him in Mandarin when she was here. In our trip to Singapore recently, we went on a Chinese book shopping spree for J. Personally, I get intimidated and overwhelmed when I see a mass of Chinese characters together. It does not necessarily mean that I can't read them, and I can't explain it, but it does make me wish to close the book and choose an English one instead. So, when we shopping for the books, I was a bit apprehensive. To my pleasant surprise, I find that almost every book comes with Hanyu Pinyin. And while my Chinese is not tip-top, I can proudly say my Hanyu Pinyin is not too bad at all! :) They do make the pages look cluttered with the images, but I console myself that I would at least be able to read them and probably also improve my Chinese in the end! :)

So, we came home with all these books and J has been luckily interested. Well, in the first place, he likes books and I think with these, it helped that they have large colourful pictures. I don't think he is actually paying too much attention to the Chinese characters yet, but hey, they did say a child's best window of learning is from 2 to 7 years old. And while mine is not 2 yet, he can get used to these funny blocky characters being on his books first :)

At the nursery, they try to ask me for some Chinese words that J is familiar with. I think they see it as a sort of magic mantra that they can use, should J break into hysterics. And that is fair enough. But I tell J's key carer not to be too bothered and to just speak to J in English, cos I would like him to learn English there, while we converse with him in Mandarin at home. After all, what beats learning the language from the native speaker? My boy might just come home with the cool British accent some day! :)

For myself, for now, I take little baby steps by commenting in Mandarin now and then online. I mean, hey, technology makes it so much easier - I love how with the computer, you can just type the Hanyu Pinyin and the whole list of similar sounding words come out and you just choose the right one. I may not be able to write it by myself, but I sure know my words, cos I dun often make a wrong choice :) And with the hassle of knowing which is the right word out of the way, I am actually surprised by how my expression is actually quite decent! :) 

I think the next thing for me when I return is to get a lunar calendar or something, so that I know when we celebrate the Chinese festivals. Always wish I know when to eat dumplings, mooncakes and tang yuan! :)

A New Kind of Free

J is registered to start nursery soon, so these few weeks will be settling-in sessions for him, an orientation if you like. Our first session was on Tuesday and I was sitting beside him the whole time, as one of the staff went through numerous forms with me. He sat in my lap at first, then slowly, with some coaxing, started to venture out. He never went far, but seemed to be quite at ease.

Today was our second session. And I was asked to leave him. We sat together for a while, again with him in my lap, then him slowly venturing out. And before long, he was crawling over to check out a pile of toys, then next, a chest of books. The carer gave me the signal and I left in as inconspicuous a manner as I could.

Did I feel worry or sadness at leaving my boy behind? I think I was too busy trying to leave unnoticed to be emotional. I was, in part, also confident that J would be alright and, in fact, will be having too much fun to miss me. 

And unabashedly, I admit I was on a bit of a high, as I realised I was stealing away to my freedom. This realisation came upon me, when I was sitting in the car again and thought, "Darn! I should have brought a book, so that I can just sit in the car, in case J cries and they can't manage and call me to come back..."  After all, I really only had an hour's break...

In the end, I decided an hour's good time anyway and sped away to the mall. And I was not wrong. In that one hour, I checked out the baby section in a departmental store, went to the pharmacy, and walked from one end of the mall to the other. I contemplated having a fancy lunch to luxuriate in my own company, but figured that one hour would be too short for such a significant indulgence and perhaps, I ought not to celebrate too early. I had no specific shopping in mind, but suddenly decided that I would pick up my favourite salad and soup for lunch, and so brisk-walked to the other end of the very linear mall. As I passed by my various favourite shops, I toyed with the idea of browsing, but really, there was no time. I promised myself to do so on a proper nursery day.  It is funny how when one is pushed, one prioritises. And so even if I did not go everywhere my shopaholic heart was trying to pull me to, I did what I wanted to do - get my beautiful lunch - and then went back to fetch my boy.

I was 15 minutes late and for a minute, the thought went through my head: What a bad mummy I am to be late the very first time to fetch my boy from nursery, cos I have been shopping?! But I soon brushed that thought away, refusing to be chained or held captive by silly emotional blackmail or crippled by narrow-minded thinking about what makes a good mother. I reminded myself not to apologise for being slightly late and breezed through the nursery doors to sweep my boy in my arms. 

When he saw me for the first time, I thought J's face sort of became a bit red and for a moment, I thought he was going to burst into tears. But he was alright; he just gave a bit of a start at seeing me, as if his mind was juggling a little to figure out who this familiar face was. I could almost hear the click in his mind when he remembered I was Mummy and started crawling rapidly and excitedly towards me. I picked him up and was it my imagination, or was that an especially strong, tight hug? Or perhaps I was the one squeezing him and not vice versa? :)


The carers went on to tell me how he had been a most wonderful ward. Just smiling the whole time and playing happily. And how he wanted to share his banana with his carer at mealtime. He cried briefly when they went outdoors, but curiosity soon took over and he was off again, busily checking out the garden. So, all seemed well and J certainly seemed to have become a hit at the nursery with the adults.

As we walked back to the car today, I felt myself swelling with pride, like a proud mummy hen. On the way home, my boy fell promptly asleep and while he slept, this mummy wa busily devising plans for her future adventures and escapades on these glorious nursery days! Yes! :)


PS: Thanks, Daddy Low, for insisting that J goes to nursery, so I get some "Me" time :)

An Activity-Filled Day

I suppose one can rightly say that today is the beginning of me and J having our activity-filled life again, the real test, so to speak. After all, yesterday, we had no agenda and were still sort of resting.  Our 2 main items today were the Song and Rhymetime at the library at 10am and in the afternoon, J's first settling-in session at the nursery he's registered with. 

Waking up in time for the library was not the worry - we've been waking up early everyday since returning from Singapore. Curiously, it was not as painful as I thought it might be, given how difficult it was when Mum was around. (I think that was one of the things she disapproved when she stayed with us and observed my daily habits; her generation seems to think that sleeping-in late is a sin, especially when one becomes a wife and mother...) I suppose it must be a mind thing, that when one has someone around to help, one feels assured enough about Baby's care and so becomes more self-indulgent :)

So, we did wake up in time, but it was the getting ready and getting there in time that was the issue. J was co-operative, so there was nothing to fault him on there, but getting both of us breakfasted and ready, getting his bag ready, getting the buggy into the car etc took me some time. And if I had been too busy to be homesick or miss Mum before, I felt her absence acute at that moment. Her extra pair of hands and eyes when she was here was a great help every time we were preparing to leave the house and get somewhere in time.

When I spoke with a European girlfren recently, she had expressed her amazement at my mum coming to stay and help us in UK for so long. I think this must be a cultural difference, since it is very common for Asian mums to come and stay for months to help their overseas daughters (generally children, but especially daughters) once they have delivered and even as their grandchildren grow, while it seems, for our Western counterparts, the strong belief of independence for both parties does mean a shorter stay for mums when they come to help their overseas children. But whatever the case, all overseas daughters will agree on this - it is only when one is overseas that the lack of family help is sorely felt! 


The other thing that strikes me is how Skype is so indispensable for overseas daughters like me. This came home twice recently when 2 different frens on separate occasions said they do not have Skype when I asked in the hope of connecting through it. My immediate reaction was incredulity; how can anyone not have Skype, not use Skype? It is such a basic thing to have... then, of course, I realise how presumptious I was and how different our contexts and living realities are. I have been a Singaporean-at-large for near to 2 years now and Skype has been nothing short of a lifeline to me. And I suppose that is why I come back to my newfound understanding of my new identity - my belonging to a different "breed" of people and that is, the overseas-daughters-recently-turned-mummies.


I suppose this is my focus today, 'cos interestingly enough, this came up again when I brought J to the nursery. I was being interviewed about J's daily habits and other information and at some point, the conversation turned to when we came to stay in UK... after which, the carer just exclaimed how amazed she is by my bravery to come to a whole new country in the midst of my pregnancy and deliver here etc. It is a strange perspective for me, 'cos for me, it was a matter of no choice. If I had stayed in Singapore, I would have to deliver J without Daddy Low and that was just a no go for us. I could not imagine depriving Daddy Low of that magic moment as well as all the months leading up to the birth. I remembered how we had enjoyed seeing my little bump grow bigger and bigger and how thrilled we were to feel his first kick. How could I let Daddy Low miss out on all these? And not to mention how I had felt a whole new kind of love and respect for Daddy Low as he took such tender care of me in those difficult months and as he grew into his daddy role. He attended antenatal class with me, learning all about the birth process as well as how to bathe and care for Baby when he arrives. As much as it was hard and perhaps unimaginable, it was a road that we are meant to take together, since we are travelling mates in Life's journey. And through this part of the journey, we grew together, to go past our roles as husband and wife, to become parents working hand-in-hand to care for our baby.


Then, others ask: How do I manage alone? In Singapore, family help is readily available and it is easy and in fact, common to get a maid once the children arrive. My frens think it is amazing that I take care of the baby as well as cover the household chores. And I think, " Yah, how nice it would be to be in Singapore!" but understand really I am not doing anything out of this world. Having stayed in Switzerland and UK now, I know it is do-able even if not easy and we are just really having it good in Singapore. Here, it is a common sight to see a mum push a trolley in the supermarket with a baby in the baby seat, a toddler sitting inside the trolley and the eldest child walking beside the trolley... So, honestly, I dun feel like I am doing any special feat, and in fact sometimes think I probably am having a much easier time than those here with more than one child.


And I am grateful that I had a chance to be overseas to learn these lessons, to develop this part of me, to know myself better and grow stronger. More than anything, I am glad that I have the opportunity to take a few gap years off to care for my baby. 


At the nursery, we saw a boy on his second day and the poor tike was crying for his mummy. I felt a sudden twinge of guilt at what confusion and panic I might be setting Julien up for... And as much as I had looked forward to having some time off him, I started to regret a bit, had a sudden rush of love and just want to squeeze my boy hard and have him with me, in my sight the whole day... but steeled myself finally that some time at a nursery would benefit him as well as me.  At the end of the day, J did well at the nursery today. He started to wander further and further from him and warmed up to the carer. It was more Mummy who started to feel like she couldn't let her baby go...


So, the day turned out to be a good one, especially when you throw in a Vietnamese lunch at a newfound Vietnamese restaurant. But doing back-to-back activities in a day is just too much for me, not forgetting that J is in a phase now where he wants me to be within his sight at all times and play with him every 20 minutes.  When Mum was here, I was well rested and had difficulty sleeping at night; now, when I have to do everything myself, I am dog tired by the end of the day. One thing for sure - I am sleeping like a log tonight! :)



 

Happy Birthday, Daddy Low!

Today is Daddy Low's birthday and stuck at home with no car keys and no special ingredients to make a super-duper dinner, I try to think what else would make a good present for him.

Light bulb! A blog entry - Daddy Low just grumbled yesterday that I never write anymore and that he likes to read my blog... so here it is, Papa! This is for you! :)

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We are back in UK after a 2+ week return to Singapore. Landed at 5.50am on Saturday. And amazingly, we agreed to a weekend packed full of activities. But planning to go to a birthday party at 1pm after having landed in early morning is pure madness and I ended up sending in notice of our absence with apologies, especially since J came back with a phlegmy cough and I with a burning sore throat and dry, persistent cough. 

We spent that Saturday by ourselves and it was a nice change for a bit from the meet-ups in Singapore. The foremost thought in my mind was to get J back to UK time and his routine, so the baby is the one who gets star treatment - play for a while, then breakfast, then shower, then nap etc.  (Although it was not the first time for us to see this, it was still funny to see J rediscovering his toys - his eyes would brighten up, there would be excited "ahs" and pointing at his toys while he crawls rapidly towards them. And every time, I am reminded how I ought to "rotate" his toys by keeping them in storage and taking them out in turn, so they are always novel and desirable to J :)

Then, of course, we had to do the grocery run to stock up the fridge, and unpack and do laundry... as well as call the parents on Skype to say we are safely home. Breakfast and lunch were takeaways, while I cooked dinner and Daddy Low returned to his workplace to clear some backlog. (And I cooked porridge for J for the first time! And it was not burnt; it did not taste odd, but was in fact really yummy! Yay!) And so our Saturday turned out to be quite tiring after all and all three of us slept very soundly that night - Yes! Even J - he slept through and did not wake up for his midnight feed! :)

Sunday's programme - a wedding in London! Not much of a lie-in for me, as I tried to keep J to his routine of waking up at 7am - and he did not need prompting anyway, woke up at 7am... but man, are we tired! I must admit, I half wished that we didn't have to go. The house was in a mess, I feel and look like a panda (and Daddy Low too) and was not in much of a mood to pretty up for a wedding or get into some interaction action... but one only marries once and a wedding is always a good way to catch up with old frens, so there we go again - packing baby's stuff, getting angpow ready, trying to look fresh and not like some wilted cabbage and bravely, Daddy Low stepped on the gas, propelling us towards London.


There is something about weddings - it always makes one go misty-eyed and all soft inside as the beauty of love pervades the air, while watching the couple exchange their vows. I could not see my friends' expressions as they exchange their vows, but I could hear the emotion in their voices and with each "I do", you could almost hear a sigh of contented bliss from the audience. It is hard to explain, but for one moment, the very building itself seems to join in the celebration with a slight throbbing of joy and happiness. 

This was an American-Swedish wedding and a first experience for me to hear three readings by the best man, the bridesmaid and the bride's aunt. They were excellent selections, all very relevant and I thought, made a lot of sense. As I listened to them, I was flooded with emotions. Probably like several others in the crowd, I am reminded of our own big day as I exchanged wedding vows with Daddy Low. I thought of how young we were then, how heady we were that particular day (According to the audience, I paused noticeably before responding to the Solemniser addressing me as "Mrs Low"), and how ignorant I was of how to be the right partner..

I have to say, after spending more than half a decade together as husband and wife, I am aware of how wonderful my husband is to me ... and how willful and selfish I am comparatively as a wife. Daddy Low gives in to me constantly and is always mindful of my feelings. Poor him, his wife is more wrapped up in her own world and needs ... and now that J is here, in J's needs :)  And many times too, this wife takes him for granted. He may complain, he may get mad, but at the end of the day, he still loves and accepts me. 


Lucky me.


I am thankful to have such a loving husband. And I am thankful that I am reminded today of his wonderfulness and of how a marriage can only be made with hard work and contributions from both.  Thank you, Daddy Low. You are the treasure I have the fortune to find in this life. And because I am not as articulate, and because I was so moved by the readings, I leave them here for us both...  love you and feeling blessed to have you and J in my life, your wife K :)




Extract from Les Miserables
by Victor Hugo



You can give without loving, but you can never love without giving
The great acts of love are done by those
Who are habitually performing small acts of kindness
We pardon to the extent that we love
Love is knowing that even when you are alone
You will never be lonely again
And the great happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved
Loved for ourselves
And loved in spite of ourselves



I Promise
by Dorothy R Colgan


I promise to give you the best of myself
And to ask no more than you can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person and to realise that
Your interests, your desires and needs are no less important than my own.
I promise to share with you my time and my attention
And to bring joy, strength and imagination to our relationship.
I promise to keep myself open to you, to let you see through 
The window of my world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams.
I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face changes
In order to keep our relationship alive and exciting.
I promise to love you in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside 
In the only way I know how.
Completely and forever.


The Act of Marriage
by Alfred Perdersen


A good marriage must be created.
In the marriage, the little things are the big things.
It is never being too old to hold hands.
It is remembering to say "I Love You" at least once a day.
It is never going to sleep angry.
It is having a mutual sense of values and common objectives.
It is standing together and facing the world.
It is forming a circle of love that gathers in the whole family.
It is speaking words of appreciation and gratitude in thoughtful ways.
It is having the capacity to forgive and forget.
It is giving each other an atmosphere in which to grow.
It is a common search for the good and the beautiful.
It is not only marrying the right person,
It is being the right partner.