Monthly Archives: June 2010

The Devil’s Birthday

How do you say happy birthday to the Devil Wears Prada? You can say it in Chinese. 生日快乐! You can say it in German. Alles Gute zum Geburtstag! You can even say it – given the host of this year’s World Cup – in Afrikaans. Gelukkige Verjaarsdag! You can say it with flowers – a

Pureglutton’s Potluck Party

Or, How Everyone Ignored My Roast Chicken. (But more on that later, promise.) First, we must begin with the sweet joy of receiving an email one fine day, a couple of weeks ago, from a dear reader inviting me and Devil to a potluck party she was kindly hosting. When this wonderful lady also happens

Summer in Europe

Summer in Europe. What does that mean to you? For me, it is many different things — activities, places, people: Sunbathing in the Englischer Garten, a large public park in the heart of the city of Munich. Running through a Spanish thunderstorm at three in the morning in Barcelona. Barefeet on the lawn, toes curling

Dog

The week has come and gone in a rush, nay, a gust of wind, really. Now the weekend is before me and I want it to linger as slowly as possible. To unwind and to stretch, the hours and minutes to come, with very little to do, well, that’s the way to do it. Yet

The Domestic Goddess (and Her Boys)

The domestic goddess, she surveys her domain. It is not her kitchen, of course, but it doesn’t need to be. She’s the only lady here, surrounded by her bevy of boys and her wish is their command. They sit and obey. Or rather, they scurry around the apartment, boiling and frying and stirring and tasting,

The Last Meal in Tokyo

There is enough time for one last meal in Tokyo before we retire to bed, and on the morrow, we will wake very early and take the first train to Narita and breakfast at the airport. We will fly home, to Kuala Lumpur, back to our Malaysian shores. It will be a warm welcome —

Shinjuku Gyoen

And on the last day, there really isn’t much left to do but to spend the morning walking in the gardens, soft winds blowing cherry blossoms into our hair, pack some bento lunch for a slow picnic with other lovers of this gorgeous Japanese spring, snatches of song in the air, watching amateur artists and