The Making of (French) Macarons

I got married and am swamped with wedding cake of three flavours - chocolate, lemon, and fruit. So until I (and my husband) finish the insane amount of cake occupying our freezer at the moment, I have banned myself from baking any cakes or cake variants (cupcakes, muffins, etc). But you know me, I have the baking bug and I can't leave the oven alone.

Thus came an idea. Macarons. These delightfully colourful bite-sized pieces of heaven I've spent a majority of my adult life obsessing over. Soft and crispy outside with a chewy marshmallowy centre. You have no idea until you've tried one.

The problem with obsessing over macarons: it's pretty expensive when you go out and buy some when it's around £1 for a macaron.

The problem with making them yourself: there is so much fear surrounding the making of macaron.

I'm not even kidding. Ask any hobbyist baker and budding chefs. Macaron is a challenge. Failure is not optional, it's pretty much what you expect when you start out. Everyone who makes macarons has had episodes of complete frustration when the shells end up cracked, uneven, sticky, hollow, burnt, etc. You get the idea. Delicate things, in more ways than one.

I've tried to make macarons twice now. My first attempt was on Monday. Sunny day, in case you want to know the weather. A bit of a bite in the air. Some say that high humidity can cause macaron failure, so this day should, in theory, be perfect.

I've read up a lot on this topic, and the best resource I've found so far is Stella@bravetart, who makes these little culinary delicacies for a living. She posted a lot of information about the myths of macaron-making which is not only interesting, but also good in dispelling a lot of the fears surrounding the making of macaron (so you would actually be tempted to attempt it).

My first attempt, I followed Stella's instructions to the letter, except for the ageing of the egg whites - I had already aged some egg whites in my fridge for 24 hours at this point.

What I did not do that goes against common macaron myths:
- drying almond flour
- using cream of tartare
- using Italian meringue
- babying the meringue
- drying piped macarons
- doubling up baking tray
- be French

I pretty much dump the sugar into the egg whites at the beginning, and then dump the sifted almond mix into the meringue and folded. No babying there.

In hindsight, I may have overfolded slightly on the last stage before piping. Also in hindsight, I probably should've tried harder to find baking paper instead of using greaseproof paper (different things, in case you didn't know). My macarons taste delish, but there was so much inconsistency in the final result - some had feet, some didn't, some cracked, some didn't, some was hollow, some wasn't. And these were all in the same baking tray!

Filled with pistachio ganache.

Smooth top, but inconsistent feet and cracks.

Also - two trays were baked at 150deg C and the two other trays were baked at 140deg C. 150deg C trays had more shells with feet but were browner and 140deg C were entirely footless but retained better colour. Also baking the macarons two trays at a time in my oven will yield different results depending on whether it's on top or bottom - top tray will be browner and bottom tray will be footless, which suggests to me that the temperature control is pretty rubbish in my oven. To get any consistency in the future, I'll have to do one tray of macarons at a time.

So on to my second attempt, which was on Thursday. I rolled up my sleeves to brave the challenge again. This time, the weather was horrible. Rain, cold, gloomy and the sun never showed his face the whole day, the lazy shite. Definitely not macaron-making weather.

If you weren't following Stella's instructions, which tells you to sod the weather (I'm paraphrasing here).

So there I was, standing barefoot in my freezing cold kitchen whipping up some meringue from unaged egg whites. How dedicated am I? I proceed to dump the almond mix into the meringue and folded it in - this time, I incorporated it just enough that it didn't look dry. I know when I looked at it that I probably undermixed it this time, but better to undermix than to overmix. And I was a bit paranoid at this stage, you understand.

After piping the mixture onto the baking paper (I found some in the end!) and giving the first tray a good whack on the countertop, I allowed them piped macarons to rest for 15 minutes. Then I baked them at 148deg C for 14-15 minutes in the middle of my conventional oven which hasn't been calibrated ever in the past five years.

Even colour, but lumpy top and cracked shells.

What?? *tearful* After all that?

For the second tray of the same batter, I whacked, rested, double-trayed and baked at 148deg C for 14-15 minutes.

No cracks, baby! :)

Voila! Feet and no cracks and no hollowed shells!

It was a proud moment. I was so happy I could've danced a jig. Except, of course, I don't jig and if I did, I would've slipped on the kitchen tiles and killed myself - I am that much of a klutz.

The only thing wrong with my second attempt was the fact that the macaron shells did not have a smooth top due to undermixing before piping. But this is entirely aesthetic (still very nommy!) and I know how to combat it, so it's fine.

Macaron attempt #2: Final result.

Roll on third attempt. Will try another flavour. I'm actually quite excited about what I can create now! :)

Review: The Time of My Life

The Time of My Life by Cecelia Ahern

My rating: 1 of 5 stars



I struggled through this book from the beginning. It's not your usual fun chick-lit, which I'm disappointed about. I want a chick-lit that makes me laugh, giggle, swoon, and giggle some more. With such a chick-lit-y cover in swirly gold writing, what's to say it doesn't contain excitement and fun?

But alas! I should have remembered the adage "Do not judge a book by its cover." I really shouldn't have. Despite its colourful front cover full of promises, this book makes me wonder when it will end because it's just so boring.

It's about a girl, Lucy, who is very messed up and in a deep rut in her life due to several little-turned-big lies she told starting 2 years 11 months and so-many days ago. Now, I can see how that can happen, and the whole book reads like self-help for Lucy, courtesy of her Life (yes, capital L), in the form if Cosmo (who I imagine looks like a door-to-door salesman).

Unfortunately this is a long, dreary path to plough through and nothing exciting really happens. It is an original plot, if nothing else, and Life being a solid person who can kick you in the ass (metaphorically) is an interesting spin on things. If this is your thing, you might like it. But... it's not my cup of tea. And I don't like Lucy, I really wanted to give her a huge slap through most of the book. I bet her Life wanted to give her a huge slap too.

The ending saved it a little, I did warm up a little bit to a Lucy who has finally, FINALLY decided to grow up, but too little too late. Dragging myself though boring 98% of the book just for the last semi-decent 2% doesn't do it for me.



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Review: Wintergirls

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson

My rating: 2 of 5 stars



This did not do it for me. The writing style is distracting, and the character portrayal of Lia does not encourage any empathy or sympathy. I simply did not care about Lia whether she lived or died. Lia knows she has a problem. Lia doesn't want to get better. Lia blames everyone else for her problem, her parents, the divorce, Cassie, etc. Lia actively lies and cheats and manipulate people for her own ends. Lia is selfish and spoilt. Lia is a cry for help because she doesn't really want to die, she just want to see if anyone notices her if she hurt herself enough. But she doesn't see that people DID notice, and people DID want to help, but she's in too deep to get herself out again. So she aggressively fights everyone else in order to STAY ill. She WANTS to be ill 98% of the book.

I feel if a book is written in a first-person POV, we shouldn't be left feeling that Lia is selfish, spoilt, manipulative and unreasonable because Lia won't see herself that way. It needs to be written in Lia's voice and Lia's reasonings, but I just don't get that feeling. I didn't get to know Lia. I didn't know how she thought. It was all very superficial. The author did not step into Lia's shoes - she simply wrote a fiction about ED as an outsider, with a pinch of judgemental lightly sprinkled through in the book, whilst pretending it's a first-person POV. It probably would've worked better if the author had written a fiction about a parent dealing with a child with an ED.

Her sister Emma, however, is very loveable, as little as we read of her.

I'm not attacking ED in general, it is a real problem, I just did not care much for the book and how it was written. Portia de Rossi's book on her battle with anorexia, Unbearable Lightness, reads much better, feels real (probably because it IS real), and I could actually sympathise with her. She made one understand the mindset of a person suffering from, and battling with an ED.



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Heart.

Early Christmas present. :)

Review: A Discovery of Witches

A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness

My rating: 2 of 5 stars



The book started out really slow for me and didn't really draw me in until around 40% into the book. Up until then, I was wondering what the fuss was all about.

I really didn't want to compare this book to Twilight, but I can't help it when throughout the whole reading of the book, Twilight keeps flashing through my brain. It's better than Twilight, but that's not saying much since I didn't like Twilight.

I love how this book has explored more into the history and lore and I wish there is a bit more of that. But again, there's too much similarities to Twilight on the romance department that I had to make myself keep reading and not lose faith (or upchuck my dinner). It's a good thing that the main character Diana, whilst a bit stupid at times, is not as depressing to read about as Bella. And Matthew is very much more interesting than Edward. The characters in A Discovery of Witches is better drawn out than Twilight, the plot is better, however being better than a terrible book doesn't make it great.

What I cannot stand though is how Diana, despite all her "I can protect myself" or "I can do it myself" so-called feminism ended up as a damsel-in-distress anyway 80% of the book, who turns into a shivery mess when her vampire boyfriend/husband is not about. I feel as though I've been missold a strong character. The romance is predictable from the start and didn't get anymore interesting at the book went on.

I might be suffering from Twilight PTSD and in need to join a help group before I read another vampire novel, but regrettably I didn't enjoy this book as much as I thought I would. Two stars because I really did like the history and lore bits.

I may read the second book (as I understand this is part of a trilogy) if it's told from Matthew's perspective, because it would be interesting to see what he feels revisiting an era he has lived through before and what he will do differently compared to the younger Matthew.



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Too young.

Girls where I'm from are raised with one idea - get married and have babies. Get married early otherwise you'll be an old maid nobody wants. Have babies as soon as possible so you have someone to care for you when you're elderly.

Unfortunately for some of those who had taken those teachings to heart, it hadn't worked out. Because... let's face it, we're rubbish at making decisions on who we want to spend the rest of our lives with at 18. But it's not uncommon for girls from the little town I call home to be married straight out of secondary school and popping out their 2nd or 3rd child before their 21st birthday. At 18, girls and boys are too rash, still governed by hormones, lust and fantasies.

I remember the days in school when girls would plan when they aim to get married by and how many children they wanted. They even devised ways to "foretell" such dates. Harmless fun, probably, and one I did not partake in because I didn't believe I would ever get married (I couldn't stand the boys we went to school with... too boisterous, too loud, too obnoxious, as is common for teenage boys, and this is on top of the fact I didn't trust men). I read too many foreign books, interacted too frequently on the Internet, and I didn't follow local conventions. I constantly rebel against what was expected of me. And as a result, I was probably an outcast in school. I didn't notice much - I was too busy with my nose in a book or computer.

I am glad of it now.

Do you really know what you want from the rest of your life at 18? You haven't even discovered your full potential. You are going to undergo huge changes in the next few years of your life as you step into adulthood and find your place in society. You will learn a lot of new things about yourself. How will you know your love interest at age 18 will still fit into your life when you're "grown-up"? You don't even know yourself.

There are friends who are unmarried, who feels like they're left behind. But why? If it's not the right time, it's not. If it's not the right person, it's even more so you shouldn't rush into it. Because some people have, and some people are currently living to regret it. I am thoroughly sad to hear two of my close friends are having marital problems, and they feel it's due to their marrying too soon, too young, at an age when all they cared about was how "sexy" their partner is. And after a bit of growing up and maturing, they find themselves different persons wanting different things, and their partners no longer the match made in heaven they thought they were. And at age 27, they're much too old for angst and much too young to be growing bitter. If the average life expectancy is 75, that's potentially 48 years of unhappiness due to one mistake.

I'm 27, and by the time I get married (if it happens as currently planned) I will be 28. This is "old maid" category not too long ago, but SATC may have changed this perception. Even at 27 going on 28, I don't know if I'm making the right choice, this may blow up in my face altogether, but I sure am at a much better place and mindset to make that decision than I was 10 years ago.

I hope everyone will educate their children that deciding on your life partner takes time and a certain level of maturity, and even if you never find a suitable partner, it's perfectly fine and normal to be happy single. Tell them not to believe in this "other half" nonsense, a partner in your life is to enrich your life, not complete it for you. You should be complete already.

Don't mind me if I'm sounding preachy - lately all I seem to hear of is marriages growing sour and breaking up from all over the globe. *sigh*

Long update of random stuff since February.

It's been forever since I last posted. Gone are the days where I was actually committed enough to online blogging/journalling I would write everyday. Oh well.

Life hasn't been that interesting. I work most days and I sleep most days. And last I wrote, I wrote on the importance of service, and it just so happens that yesterday, I had another gentleman who insisted on personally giving me a box of chocolates. Which is really sweet. I also had the experience of a gentleman patient of mine who wanted to give me a tip (unfortunately, we cannot carry money on us at work, and it seems a bit strange to tip your optometrist, surely?).

Percy getting first dibs on the chocolates.

No, of course he didn't really eat any. I'm not that terrible a cat owner.

Speaking of the ginger monster, he has grown a lot since I last posted photos on him here. This is how he looked like at 11 weeks, 6 days after we got him:

And this is 13 days ago:

Percy at 13 months old.

He has somehow grown more ginger and his body stripes are less prominent now, so it just looks like he's orange all over with four white socks, a white belly and a stripey bit at the end of his tail. I've moved him from generic Whiskas to high-meat grain-free Swedish cat food. He's still a cheeky sod, attacks ankles and feet at will, bashes against the living room door every morning demanding to be let upstairs (he much prefers sleeping on our bed since we got our new bed). He has finally learnt to brake at the bottom of the stairs before crashing headlong into the front door and his 30 minutes of madness is less often now. But Boy is convinced the cat has something against him. :( Percy is the best Christmas present I ever received, and I hope I never have to give him away. He hangs around with me and keep me from feeling lonely when Boy isn't around (and Boy will be away fairly regularly due to training now). I don't know if he behaves more when I'm around or I'm just forgiving to a fault when he's got such a cute face. Both, perhaps.

I'm trying to train him, and so far he always sits when the treat bag comes out. However, being the impatient sod that he is, if you don't hurry up and give him a treat for sitting nicely, he'll hurry you up by patting your hand. I did get to the stage where he will jump onto any surface when I pat it twice and he gets a treat, but then I took a break from giving treats and made Boy the King of Treats in order to make the two of them get on better, so I don't know where that training has gone.

I know, cat, training? Percy's really a dog in a cat-suit. He plays fetch and he waits by the door when we get home from work. He specifically recognises our car pulling up. He also puts on his agressive stance when someone (us, usually) enters the house and he wasn't expecting it (because we hadn't taken the car, or we arrived home not at our usual time) and we laugh and call him a Guard Kitty.

Anyway. Enough about the cat. What's happened since February?

We had our 4th anniversary of being together in April. Boy got me the Swarovski Radiance ring from a new jewellers that recently opened on High Street. It's sterling silver and crystal, and Brother #2 thinks it's prettier than the diamond and white gold ring I got for the first Christmas Boy and I were together. Roffle.

Swarovski Radiance Ring.

Boy got a new job in June. I don't know if he likes it or not, I think some days he does and some days he's stressed out. I feel a bit guilty when he's stressed out because it's partially my fault he got a new job in the first place, mainly because I felt he was getting used at his old workplace who weren't giving him that many hours or that much pay to be worth staying on, and when he does work his arse off, they just verbally whip him harder anyway and expect him to do the job of five people. I didn't appreciate the managers swearing at the staff, and at the rate he was earning his wages, he could just about cover his expenses and not half the house bills as we agreed on when we first purchased the house. And it must be bad if he wakes up everyday thinking he doesn't want to go to work.

So here we are. New job. More hours. More pay. Less running around ragged. More praise and recognition for performing well. More chances of training and advancement. But a very, very different environment to play in, a job in which Boy didn't know much about when he first started.

I hope after he stuck it out for a year, he can consider again whether the industry is suitable for him or not, and whether he is going to risk more student debt and getting a degree in the field.

We went to Malaysia to visit my family at the end of June, and during the visit, Brother #2 asked the question of when Boy and I are getting married. Since we are now getting asked from both sides of the family (only 3 years after our engagement), I figured we may as well set a date or we'll never do it. So now it's set for 28th July 2012, and I have to get busy sorting things out. I still don't know if there is a Malaysia leg or not, and here's why.

Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after I returned to the UK. She was going to be my organiser mainly because it's difficult to organise a wedding banquet when I'm physically on the other side of the world. Since she will be undergoing various treatments and therapies, she doesn't think she'll be up to the task of organising a wedding (on top of her full-time job), which is fair enough. Health is more important.

On an even sadder note, both my and Boy's grandmothers passed away, his before our trip and mine after our trip. My aunt Lily (who was the kind lady who put me up in Singapore for 10 days when I visited so many years ago) also passed away due to complications from surgery days before my grandmother did. Dad had quite a few blows at him lately, as within one month, he lost his mother, his older sister and then he heard the news that his wife had breast cancer.

All these happenings really indicate something that people have always known but have always taken life for granted, and that is Life is Short. It really is.

Onto more superficial stuff, Boy and I both got ourselves new phones of the same ilk, the Samsung Galaxy S2, which we love. He likes the fact that he can read the news, email and Facebook on his phone, and mine is all that plus I adore the 8MP camera. Mine is courtesy of Brother #2 who kindly donated monies towards the cost of the phone and plan for my 27th birthday (I turned 27 on the 27th! Of June, obviously, since we're talking about the past).

Also for my birthday, Boy bought me a necklace/pendent/earstuds combo on the flight back to the UK.

Jadeite cat necklace.

Isn't it so cute? :D The photo turned out better than I thought since it was actually taken with the Blackberry Curve 8900 days before it got decommissioned for the swanky new Samsung. Who'da thunk that Blackberry in macro mode actually have a half-decent ability to photograph jewelry? I'm genuinely surprised.

The pendent is bigger than I thought (usually not a bad thing when it comes to jewelry), so I'm not sure if I can get away with wearing that at work. But it's definitely one of the cutest piece of jewelry I own. When I was a child, green was my favourite colour and I had to have green everything from dresses to drinking straws. Sometimes I still find myself pulled towards green. And kittehs! Who doesn't like kittehs? :P

I also finally caved on and started a collection of Pandora charms and beads. John Greed (two doors away from my workplace) had a promotion on 31st August (Malaysia's National Day!) where if you spent a certain amount, they throw in the £60 silver bracelet on for you free of charge. So guess what I did?

Yep.

I couldn't resist since I've always wanted those Pandora charms but couldn't really justify the cost of £60 for a silver bracelet. Sterling silver and gold with black onyx. I fell in love with the design when I was in there looking at the beads. Some of them look really nice, others a bit cheap, but that particular bead is so pretty!

I told Boy that I'm making his job of buying presents easier, because apparently I'm difficult to shop for. :P And magically, now he can just get Pandora beads or charms to go on my bracelet!

Anyway, it's almost 2am and I have work in 7 hours. And in less than 48 hours, I'll be in Darlington doing some Maid-of-Honour-y duties for MJ's wedding this Saturday. I've got to go to bed.

Just to end this on a bright burn-your-retinas-out note...

The importance of service.

A couple was so thankful for what I did two weeks ago they bought me some carnations from Marks & Sparks. Pics of the flowers with my horrible Blackberry camera:

I like it when what I do matters. :)

Soap & Glory Sexy Mother Pucker and No7 High Shine Lip Gloss (and other stories)

Visited Boy's nan and granddad yesterday for her birthday (and early Christmas dinner) and stayed over for a night. Unfortunately, we broke down on the A1(M) on the way there and it took around 45 minutes before we got going again. And we need a new front splitter or whatever it was that was broken off the bottom of the front bumper. *feels poor*

Anyway, since it was a special occasion, I tried out a couple of lip glosses that I bought ages ago. The one I ended up using is Soap & Glory's Sexy Mother^TM Pucker in Plum (RRP £8.00).

Surprisingly, it really did work in plumping up the lips. The pout is more defined in a beestung look compared to when I only wear normal, non-plumping lipgloss (No7 High Shine Lip Gloss in Happy, RRP £9.00, also new, as below). Some close-up comparisons:

Top: S&G Sexy Mother^TM Pucker in Plum; Bottom: No7 High Shine Lip Gloss in Happy

Quite a significant difference, don't you think? I'm also loving the colour S&G's SMP is giving me, and cheaper than Lancome's Juicy Tubes. The No7 HSLG I got for free, so it's a good deal for me, but admittedly it didn't really give much colour to my lips and just looked like clear shiny gloss. I like it because it keeps my lips looking nice and hydrated for work where I don't bother with makeup, but I might try a more vibrant colour next time and see if it makes enough difference to spend money on it.

Am tempted to get S&G's SMP in another colour to see if the colour's as pretty. :) It smells great too, even if the tingling sensation (plumping action) felt really strange to start off with. Loving lip glosses at the moment because they keep my lips hydrated, and I'm still not sure where I stand with lipsticks which gives a much more opaque colour.

Speaking of pretty, Boy's grandparents gave me a John Lewis fluffy spotty dressing robe for Christmas. It's tres cute and very comfortable. Even Boy is tempted, except the spottiness is too girly. :P

A bit of an update on Kitt, henceforth called Percy (after the cat on Sinfest.net). He's insanely cute but also a little bastard at times. When he's in a feisty mood, he leaves a lot of destruction and blood trails behind him. But when he's in a cuddling mood like, he's the cutest thing on Earth. Except he also likes to sit on my laptop which also makes it pretty difficult to get any typing done.

He didn't like the snow we've had but was very curious about it anyway. More pictures here. It was pretty funny because from what everyone's told me, none of their cats fancied going out in the snow either even if they're dying to do their business. :P

Oh well. We're hoping to get a puppy soon as well, so Percy will have some company, even if it might be company he doesn't approve of. I don't know if he will, actually, because Percy's acting a lot like a dog sometimes... maybe they'll hit it off? Doubtful though. Heh.

Introducing... Kitt the Ginger Cat!

As some of you may know, we recently adopted a kitten from one of Boy's friends. He's been in our house for a week now, and he's gaining a lot of confidence around us compared to his first day when every little noise sent him running for cover (his hiding place when he's frightened is behind our couch). We can open the door to the living room now without him shooting into hiding.

He's also growing a lot bigger too!

Day 1:

Look at how tiny he is!

So... so... tired. First day is so stressful.

Day 2:

Still nervous and hanging around near his hiding spot.

He even sleeps there with a giant version of himself. :P

Day 6 (officially 11 weeks old):

Ginger flash!

And it's the Pole-dancing Kitty!

Look how big he's got in 6 days! His head doesn't look too big for him anymore. :P

Doing what cats do best - "innocently" sit on your computer when you're trying to do something.

Day 8 (today):

In his cat cave. Ignoring me because I said he couldn't have any of my supernoodles.

So yeah. You can see he does more and more things the longer he lives with us, so he's no longer scared of us. Nowadays he even waits by the door for us to open it and come spend some time with him, and every morning when I come downstairs, I'm greeted with his really loud purrs and rubbing. :)

We brought him to his first vet visit on Thursday and he behaved absolutely fantastically even when we was getting his shots. He was also pronounced to be fit and healthy, so we're both very happy. Bought him a couple of toys for his good behaviour and cut some holes into a couple of cardboard boxes for him to play with, so he's a happy cat generally. ^^

Stuff and London Day 1

It's almost been forever since I last wrote. Between then and now, I've got my Macbook Pro (which I love), completed our moved into the new house that we now own (partially, on our bank's charity of 5.99% APR), bought £200 worth of food and drinks and had our housewarming BBQ in our backyard (which a lot more people turned up to than I thought they would... which is nice, considering I'm pretty much a social recluse most times), attended CG's wedding afterparty thing, went to London...

Oh yes, London. :) It was ace! Boy and I had been toying with the idea of going down to London for months now. Initially I just thought we should have a mini-holiday just the two of us and booked the first week of September off from work to enjoy the last of the British summer. And I was going to suggest a driving holiday because Boy loves driving, has just got his RX8, and apparently some of the best driving roads were up in Scotland somewhere. But he said he didn't feel like a driving holiday because of the fuel consumption of his car (though thinking back I think the amount we spent in London would've refueled his car at least 20 times!). So we decided we'd go down to London instead and do really touristy things.

Which we didn't end up doing much.

Instead, we spent most of our three-day break eating. I think I tried to cram too much into three days - I forgot the bit where we actually have to sit down and catch our breath a bit before heading for the next "scheduled" activity. And we kept changing our minds what we felt like doing...

But anyway, this is what happened.

We checked into Crowne Plaza St James and it was fantastic. I think Boy really liked the hotel. ^^ Good job me! It's in the West End, walking distance from Buckingham Palace, 2 minutes from a tube station, 10 minutes walk from Apollo Victoria theatre. Heaven. Location was perfect, and the quality of the bedrooms was what I'd expected from a hotel like theirs. The room was fairly large too, which I was really surprised about considering the location - most of the time you pay mainly for the location and the room will only just about fit a bed and a desk (for example, Corus Hotel Hyde Park, a 4* hotel). Actually, I thought with the price we paid we might be shunted into a broom cupboard!

So, piccies of the room we paid £356.71 for 3 nights for:

Comfy double bed was a bit too comfy for us - we had no motivation to get out to explore London at all after getting into it!

Other side of the room with the TV, minibar and walk-in wardrobe.

I don't know why I always take pictures of the toiletries...

However, I was all excited because I've booked us to eat an early dinner at the restaurant next to our hotel called Bank Westminster. This is an attempt to get to the theatre as well to watch a musical, which was one of my must-do-whilst-in-the-West-End list. I didn't really care that much about visiting museums or getting on the London Eye.

Our hotel room's balcony overlooks a fountain right outside the restaurant we were going to be eating at that first night. It was quite pretty, but Boy said that every time he heard the fountain he thought it was raining outside!

The fountain and the Bank restaurant.

Inside Bank Westminster.

It had really good atmosphere, and the waiting staff were excellent. Very attentive but not overbearing, sincere smiles and quick to top up on our drinks whenever we were running low. We were never kept waiting. Of all the restaurants we dined at during our three-day stay in London, this place offered the best service by far. The food was very good, but not the best.

King Prawn Tempura, chilli & lime jam.

Smoked haddock & leek risotto, poached egg.

8oz fillet with peppercorn sauce.

Eton mess.

Chocolate fudge brownie sundae.

Everything looks yummy but I guess my tastebuds just weren't blown away. The tempura just tastes fairly standard, no special batter nor did the sauce taste any different from the sweet chilli sauce. The risotto was okay but a bit on the bland side... the best smoked haddock risotto I've ever had was still at the Lincoln Grille and they've stopped doing it. Oh well. Fillet steak was good and tender, and I thoroughly enjoyed the Eton mess. :)

All in all, pretty good restaurant and I will probably visit again and try some other dishes to see if they are any better. I think a lot of restaurants can take their notes from Bank on customer service, because that's the main reason, if I'm honest, that I will visit again.

We then took the cab real quick to Apollo Victoria to watch... Wicked The Musical!

Ceiling prop for Wicked. The dragon moves and smoke comes out of its nostrils sometime during the show.

It was bloody fantastic! So so so funny, even Boy enjoyed it, and he doesn't like musical as a general rule and he only agreed to go to this one because he wanted to make me happy. :P And the voices... amazing. I want to go to another musical now. :P

Anyways... I'll write more about day 2 in London when I next do another entry because methinks it's bedtime now!

Ill.

Boy: You clearly have a bad cough. Take some Buttercup (cough medicine).
Me: No, it tastes icky.
Boy: You know what they say, the worse it tastes the better it works.
Me: Said by people who don't have a choice but to take it.
Boy: Well, you don't have a choice.
Me: I do. My mum's not here!

So yeah, I am suffering from quite a bit of a chesty cough since Tuesday, following the sore throat I had since Saturday. Yesterday, it walloped me with a 3rd and 4th symptom - congested nose and headache. Falling ill v...e...r...y... s...l...o...w...l...y. Past two nights I've been coughing so hard and so frequently, I woke myself up multiple times at night (so I've had rubbish sleep!) and now my tummy hurts from coughing so badly. :( It doesn't help at night that it's so warm as well, so it's hard enough getting to sleep!

I don't feel too bad today though. Still have congested nose and cough but sore throat is not as bad as it was and headache is almost gone because I took some ibuprofen before sleep last night.

Hopefully I'm on the road to getting better. It's rubbish to be ill on my weeklong holiday, but it's worse to be ill enough to feel horrible but not ill enough to be off work.

My 26th birthday and how I almost killed myself (taking Boy with me).

My birthday wasn't too bad this year. Brother #3 came over on Thursday for a visit and bought me an iPod Nano because I've been looking into getting an mp3 player and the 5th gen Nano has FM radio too in case I get bored of my mp3 collection. ^^

It's well purty. And I got it in bright pink because I figured no self-respecting straight male will want to mug that off me. Plus it means I'm unlikely to lose it in the house because anything pink will definitely not be Boy's.

CR and JL from work bought me a bottle of Irish Cream liquor and cards on Saturday, and JL gave me an extra AA Guide to London book because I told her about Boy and I doing a bit of touristing in London in September. Arrived home to find that I got birthday cards from MJ and Honorary Parents too. Also got £50 Bravissimo voucher in my email from Boy's parents despite my telling them they don't have to get me anything.

Sunday, had breakfast in bed and then we went out shopping for something Boy can get me for my birthday because he says I'm difficult to buy for. This is what we ended up getting:

Diamond and sapphire necklace.

It matches my diamond and sapphire gold ring, and I thought Mum would approve of the design looking like an 8. :P Oh, and our new house is number 8 too. Haha. I promise this is all just a coincidence though, I'm not being your typical Chinese person putting too much emphasis on a lucky number.

Because we ended up not really spending anything on my present after all (due to an unexpected 0% finance plan), I bullied Boy into buying himself some summer clothes because all he has are plain crewneck black Ts and jeans. I know he's bored of his usual look but his newest clothes were his merino wool jumpers from last December, which is pretty unpractical for the summer, and he kept insisting that he doesn't want to spend money since he's "not flush". I swear, the boy is getting thriftier than I am sometimes.

So I dragged him into Debenhams for a shopping trip - not for me, for once - and reassured him that it won't cost more than £50 to get him some decent summer shirts. He didn't believe me, of course.

We ended up getting three T-shirts (grey, slate blue and black with different necklines/subtle designs) and a black semi-casual button-front shirt that he can wear for nights out, all from the usual lot of high street designer labels he bought from last winter (Red Herring, Rocha John Rocha, J by Jasper Conran). And the total price? £49.80.

I was riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. ;)

Anyway, after much gloating of my right-ness (just kidding), we dumped all our stuff at the apartment and went off go-karting at ELK. We haven't been for over a year, and I know Boy loves go-karting and I am technically making him miss the F1 race, the England vs Germany football game and Top Gear all on the same day (my birthday is so awesome, everyone wants to put their events on that day!), so we may as well make it worth his while instead of his original plan to bring me to Nottingham for a bit of clothes shopping (which he will get incredibly bored with, I am sure, despite his noble intentions). Plus, Brother #3 had never been go-karting and we kept saying that we'd take him.

Boy all racer-like in his suit.

It was fun as usual, and somewhere near the end of our 30-minute session, I had a head-on collision with the crash barriers at one of the tighter corners, sending one of those white plastic separator barriers flying through the air directly towards the opposite lane, where Boy was heading towards at high speed (those 4-stroke go-karts we were driving gets to a maximum of around 49mph). Let's just say it's a bloody good thing he has better reaction speed and managed an evasive maneuver to avoid the huge flying object landing directly in his racing line, otherwise it would've landed right on top of him.

After I was saved from my stuck position and resumed the rest of the session, I continued on and by the time we finished and pitted, everyone was looking at my tyres. They were wrecked. The rubber was all cracked and bubbly from the hot sun and hot tarmac, but whilst everyone else had some tyre wear, they were nothing like my four wheels, as there were hardly anymore layers of rubber to go through. Just shows how much hard-braking/accelerating and drifting I do around the corners. I did notice as we were driving that bits of black rubber were flying all over the place, and I pity whomever who was stuck behind me because that meant they got a faceful of black rubber bits.

Boy reckons that my crash was due to my tyres being worn out to that extent since it was at the later half of the session, and even with his own tyres (that were less worn than mine) he was understeering quite a bit. I knew I turned the steering wheel at the point where I crashed but the kart just wouldn't turn much. Tried to drift it around when I realised it wasn't turning enough and the kart still wouldn't have any of it. It made up its mind it was going to crash, and I was just a passenger at that point.

I was unhurt, which is the important bit, but man, woke up today feeling pretty bruised and battered! I have bruises from where the plastic catch on my bra straps dug into my shoulder blades during the impact of the crash that sent me flat against the plastic bucket seat and my arms really ache from the non-power steering of those karts.

Back to Sunday though.

Camwhoring before going out.

Boy and I outside our apartment block. My eyes were seriously puffy due to contact lens solution reaction! :(

Brother #3 and I at the Lincoln Grille.

We went out for dinner at the Lincoln Grille (we almost didn't though, but that story is for Boy to tell and not me) and I wasn't as impressed as I was the last time I was there. They removed my favourite starter haddock and saffron risotto with soft poached egg and lemon butter sauce, and replaced it with spring vegetable risotto.

Spring vegetable risotto.

Yes, I did order that, but it was so bland and disappointing, nothing at all like what I had before. Even salt and pepper couldn't save it. For my main, I had cod.

Poached fillet of cod in creamy Vermouth sauce.

Which was also pretty disappointing because it just tasted bland, like I bought a fillet of frozen cod from the supermarket and plonked it on a steamer with no seasoning whatsoever. It was served on a bed of equally bland spinach with mussels and clams on the side, which just tasted very fishy and really put me off my food. Some lemon juice wouldn't have gone amiss. And it was supposed to have oyster mushrooms... does it look like it has mushrooms? No.

I can cook better than this, and I'm not a restaurant chef. I ended up wishing I had a large dollop of tartare sauce.

I ordered dessert anyway, raspberry crème brûlée with a shortcake biscuit and that was the best course I had (but still nothing special... you can probably get better with Tesco Finest range).

Raspberry crème brûlée.

However, I didn't get to finish it because I was feeling pretty full at this point, though I don't know if that fullness is a side-effect (stomach-shrinking) of dieting, or because my two courses prior had just ruined my appetite for the night.

Brother #3 and Boy seemed to like their food fine since there were no complaints from either of them, so maybe I just have bad luck. :)

Brother #3's starter: Chargrilled asparagus tips with parma ham.

Boy's starter: Minted new potatoes.

Brother #3's main: Cornfed chicken breast morel mushroom sauce.

Boy played it safe with our usual fillet steak with pepper sauce for his main (which I think was a good idea) and had mint choc chip ice cream for dessert, whilst Brother #3 had the crème brûlée for dessert as well.

Speaking of complaints, one of the waitress was really mardy and seemed to grunt out single-syllable words instead of talking, so I complained about her to Boy and Brother #3 whilst she was still in earshot. Surprisingly, the service became much more pleasant afterwards.

Brother #3 made me a cheesecake for my birthday, which we were unfortunately too full to eat at the end of the night. But we're so going to eat it today after dinner of chicken rendang. Look at how pretty it is!

Homemade cheesecake!

I'm so spoilt. :P