EmmaGoodEgg

Happy Valentine's Day Party People

And to Bobby (who didn't miss a beat when I burst into this song but joined right along), muchly love.

Call Of Duty 4: Modern Warfare

The GoodEggs recently had the pleasure of trying out the new xbox 360 courtesy of Beloved Son's mate who had lent him the game console. I haven't had the chance to try it out because my boys have been hogging the xbox. For the past couple of days it often sounds like we are in the middle of a battlefield because Beloved Son AND Beloved Husband are obsessed with the game Call of Duty 4, a first person shooter game set in a modern tale of terrorism. And my goodness, the Call of Duty graphics on an HDTV are slick (and not to mention gory).

Anyway, for as long as I have known Beloved Husband Bob, I have not known him as a person who plays video games. Loves food yes, gets addicted to games, no. But ever since he tried Call of Duty, Bobby has been referring to himself as Sergeant "Soap" McTavish from the SAS or Sergeant Jackson from the Marine Corps. And sometimes I hear him mumbling about how his commanding officer Captain Price is going to kill him.

So Beloved Son Azim has been coaching him on Call of Duty. I sat in one of their sessions yesterday evening and I found Bobby looking intently at the screen with his mouth set in a funny grim line, and Azim barking orders like an exasperated drill sergeant:

Beloved Son: Take cover take cover!! Don't just stand there and get shot!! Fall back fall back!!
Beloved Husband: *pressing the xbox controller furiously like its a machine gun
Beloved Son: WHY are you throwing the grenade willy-nilly??!! And ONCE you've thrown a grenade, DON'T just stand there!!!
Beloved Husband: *pressing the xbox controller furiously like his life depends on it
Beloved Son (as the TV suddenly turns fluorescent green): WHY ARE YOU PUTTING ON YOUR NIGHT GOGGLES??!!

The Boxwood Cafe

A few weeks ago when I first told Bobby that work was bringing me to London, his eyes lit up and he said, “You must go eat at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant!”. But for the purposes of this post, let’s go a step or two backwards.

Ever since Astro has programmed the Asian Food Channel (or better known as the AFC) into our cable TV, there is not much else that Bobby and I watch. E Channel is skipped. So is AXN. Nowadays we watch Dosanko Cooking. Chef Okigawa is the oldest chef on the longest running cooking show on Japanese TV. She has a sidekick on the show who is a funny looking Japanese man constantly bowing and saying “Haaittt!!” We watch Charlie Trotter, the chef who looks like Superman. And then we burst into silly giggles thinking of him donning his suit and saving the world during the advertisements. Chef Wan is a firm favourite. The same Chef Wan who is so out of the closet that he’s throwing away the closet.

And then there’s Gordon Ramsay, whom we watch more than any other. I bought his new autobiographical book, Playing With Fire. The book tells us how Mr Ramsay hones his celebrity chefdom. I read about his restaurants and how he runs his life and businesses. And because Bobby is a foodie like no other person I know, he read the book first.

So my husband, who is living vicariously through his wife, suggested that I eat at a Ramsay restaurant and he mulled over which one. I planned to bring my dear sister-in-law and her boyfriend to dinner (for I missed her dearly and for moral support perhaps). In the days preceding my departure, Bobby would pore over the reviews online. We decided that eating at Petrus, or Gordon Ramsay at Claridges, or Royal Hospital Road would turn me into a nervous wreck, given the daunting atmosphere of fine dining. So maze was the first choice, but unfortunately it was closed for renovations. Somehow or rather, I quite liked the idea of The Boxwood Café. According to Mr Ramsay’s book, it is the only restaurant of his where he lets his children dine at. So Bobby called and made a reservation for three at 7.30 on a Monday evening. We then spent time looking at the menu online and thought about what he I would eat.

The Boxwood Café is located at The Berkeley Hotel, 2 minutes away from Harvey Nichols in Knightsbridge. London is cold this time of year. After checking in my coat, I found sis-in-law and boyf already in the warmth of the Boxwood mezzanine bar area. The décor was slightly informal, lovely and chic…olive green upholstery and dark wood. We had preprandials and after being suitably limber from drinks (for courage you see), we asked to be shown to our table. The dining area is a level down from the bar area. Our table was the middle banquet seat at the dining area. As far as I know, we weren’t in Siberia.

I had planned to order what I think Bobby would, so for starters I had the fried Irish rock oysters with fennel and lemon, sis-in-law had the potted salt beef brisket with grain mustard, pickled cucumber and buckwheat flour crackers and her darling had the foie gras parfait with smoked duck, tea jelly and brioche. We ordered a bottle of shampoo and the evening was then spent in a daze of good company and equally good food.

So there we were, 2 asians and 1 from up north living it up at The Boxwood Café. We felt quite special. And we talked about how great our banquet table was. It probably wasn’t the best table at the restaurant, but what do I know. The waiters were attentive and perhaps a little bit amused at the behaviour of country bumpkins. For mains, I had what Bobby would have had, the red wine braised shoulder of Dedham Vale beef with curly kale, parmesan mash and black truffle. Sis-in-law had the roasted loin of Scottish venison with creamed sprouts, chestnuts without the smoked bacon and boyfriend had the roasted loin of suckling pig with garlic roasted potatoes and grain mustard sauce.

And for dessert I had the…gosh, by the time desserts came, I probably ate a clown and I wouldn’t have remembered (but don't our desserts look fabulous?) Plus, I think I over tipped.

I must say I enjoyed the food and our evening was pretty swell. I would have liked this post to wax lyrical about the food at a Gordon Ramsay restaurant but honestly, I am no foodie. I can't analyse why celebrity chef Ramsay has 12 michelin stars. I can only say the beef was tender and fell apart into shreds, the oyster inside was moist, and oh, and the truffles? Deeelicious. And if it wasn’t at the behest of Bobby, I’d probably end up unadventurously eating tuna sandwiches in London.

What Did You Do To My Husband, Alf?

When Mimi gets up for her feed in the early morning, Bobby wakes up and changes her diaper first before I stir to open up Babu's Kitchen.

[Overheard during Bobby's Dirty Diaper Duty]

Mimi : Wek wek wek wek wek!
Bobby : Ohh my sayang ohh my sayang.
Mimi : Wek wek wek wek wek!!
Bobby : Jangan kata bapa cruel changing your nappy, inda berFAEDAH tu.

Now THAT got me awake, because an alien kidnapped Bobby and replaced him with a Malay teacher.

Daddy's Little Girl

It makes my knees weak when I hear you say, "Mimi is so cute, its ridiculous".

One Of The Many Many Reasons Why

Picture Valentine's evening 2006, a romantic scene set against the dulcet tunes of Norah Jones, candle light flickering, steam-boat for two...

Happy Birthday Bobby.

Bobby Doth Love The Cat Muchly

Bobby: You know whenever I say ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff to Willow, she writhes about all manja (affectionate)?

Emma: Get outta here.

Bobby: No really! It's because whenever I give a rub behind her ears or feed her, I say ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. It's behavioural conditioning. Willow is Pavlov's Cat!!

Emma: Good grief.

Cartoon snagged from here.

An Ode To Leonard

I have a favourite Cohen story:

At 35, Leonard Cohen was a highly unlikely debut pop star. His obsession for women was now getting regularly reciprocated. He lived up to his image as the eccentric romantic. At a party once, he approached a beautiful woman, took a strand of her long hair, dipped it into his wine glass, slowly sucked it dry, let it fall and walked away without saying a word.

From 7 Notes & The Muse.

K.D. Lang (not a boy but not quite a girl) sings a swell rendition of Leonard Cohen's Bird On A Wire. My other favourite Cohen story is that we sang a reggae version of the song once. Everyone thought we were quite strange.

Emma The Urban Wife

Most Saturdays I get to sleep in while Beloved Husband gets up to put in another day at the office. As he dresses for his Saturday work clothes, and I drift in and out of snoozeland, we always have this conversation:

Beloved Husband: Ahhhh its Saturday. It's Michael Douglas Day.
Me: Stay away from fast food reastaurants Lovey.

Michael Douglas Saturday (thankfully, the rest of the week it's long-sleeves).

In the movie Falling Down, Michael Douglas goes nuts at the world, his downward spiral obvious when he visits WhammyBurger.

The Brunei Marathon 2006

Dear Diary,

As you know, I am no long distance runner. But if I haven't told you before, let me tell you now, I have great respect for those who are. For someone who can't even go up the first hill at Shahbandar without fearing a heart-attack, I am also in awe. It must take some will to complete a marathon run of 42 kilometers (that's 26 miles), because to me even the 5km Fun Run would require a miracle of human endurance. I took some pictures.

A marathon runner and his champion chip at 5am earlier today.

I was glad for my marathon runner that it was raining this morning. The rain also made it easier to go back to sleep.

Hanging out with the Traffic Police while waiting for No. 0192.

No. 0192 and his rider.

After cheering favourite marathon runner at the junction of the Big TV, I headed to the Padang at the center of Town. The GrandStand was filled with tired and weary runners and their supporters.

This lady Melissa completed the Full Marathon at under 6 hours. She was born in Brunei, but is currently working and residing in Hong Kong. She's here in Brunei to visit her family and take part in the Marathon.

Jenny emcee'd the event and Izam worked behind the scenes for SCB.

From left, Hj Rozman, Captain Sheikh Rashid and Dato Hamid Jaafar look happy to be in the shade.

As do the Kenyans.

Some of the winners, including Bruneian Sefli Ahar who came 1st in the 42km Closed and 9th in the 42km Open.

And mine :)

I think next year I'll aim to complete the (half) Fun Run. Small steps dear Diary, small steps.

Love, Emma xx

ps/ Check out RA's coverage here and here.