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September 29, 2006
Tong Shui Cake
The Samosas and the noodles worked so well, I’ve decided to try making it into a cake. I’m basing the recipe on a modified yogurt cake recipe from allrecipes.com.
Ingredients:
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 egg
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 cup almond Tong Shui
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9 inch cake pan
I’m using a cheap disposable pan
2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter, brown sugar and vanilla until light and fluffy. Beat in the egg until smooth. Combine the flour, baking soda, and baking powder; stir into the batter alternately with the yogurt. Spread the batter into the prepared pan.
The batter emerges looking yellow (from the butter, a high grade Australian import butter) and very smooth. Sweet to the taste. This cake is going to have a higher sugar content than the original yogurt cake since Tong Shui has a higher sugar content than yogurt.
3. Bake for 50 minutes in the preheated oven, until a knife inserted into the crown comes out clean.
Minute 50: I’m using a crazy combination oven/ microwave/ convection oven. After irradiating half the room and most of myself, I’ve managed to get 175 C’s of convection. I still can’t find the normal oven so the convection oven will need to do. Do people ever cook cakes in convection ovens? I don’t know.
Minute 37: The yellow batter has risen slightly and gone white on top, with a few darker marks indicating that something is actually baking. The oven keeps whirring away. Also, this is the first time I’ve used the oven and a horrible smell—which the oven manual calls the “new oven smell” is wafting through the room. I’ve opened the doors and windows to the apartment but it still smells like roasted badger. New oven smell is much, much less appealing than new car smell. Also, as I write this, the oven has emitted a new hissing sound. That might be the hyperbaric oven chamber equalizing.
Minute 24: the cake has risen and has a nice dark golden dome on top. The wonders of sifting the baking soda, baking powder and flour together so they are evenly distributed through the batter. The warm, golden smell of cake is also overcoming the new oven smell.
Done? Done. It tastes good. Very golden in the middle. I took the cake back to the Tong Shui place and explained what I had done. They said that the cake tasted very good (it was extremely sweet and undercooked a bit so they were being nice). Now they probably think that I am weird.
A photo:
Posted by jb at 07:03 AM | Comments (1)
September 28, 2006
Tong Shui Experiments
The tong shui dough concept continues to fascinate me.
Almond Tong Shui really works well in the place of yogurt in Samosas. It yields something a bit lighter and more flaky and sweeter.
I didn't want to work this afternoon so I tried it. I wanted to accentuate the dessert-like quality of the dough so I added strawberries to make mini-samosas
Ingredients:
3 C Flour
a bit less than 1/2 ts Salt
3 tb Melted butter
1/2-3/4 C Almond Tong Shui
1/4 C Water
1 pt Strawberries
Sift flour and salt into bowl. Stir in melted butter, then Tong Shui, then water. Stir together until blended. Dough will appear dry and maybe a bit lumpy, preferably with yellow streaks of butter. Roll dough out into a fairly thin layer (about 1/2 cm thick) and cut into 2 to 3-inch circles. Quarter a strawberry, stretch the dough circle out some more and fold around the strawberry. Close semicircle with fork. Fry it until surface darkens. Place on paper towel..etc.etc.
Takes about 30 min to make
This is what they look like
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So (later), it turns out that you can roll and cut the dough for pasta as well. I left the excess samosa dugh in the fridge for a few hours and then made dinner out of it. Handcut the pasta, which did not fall apart in the water. Instead, it developed a shiny, slightly blistered texture on the outside while keeping the consistency of udon in the middle. No photos but Tong Shui Almond Dough is pretty interesting. Now I'm going to need to learn to make the Tong Shui almond paste!
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(later) ah, heck. Here is a photo. I feel wierd about photographing my food.
Posted by jb at 03:22 AM | Comments (1)
September 27, 2006
Tong Shui
Desserts, like clothes, come into and out of fashion. One year retailers will have trouble keeping Ben and Jerry’s on the shelf only to see freezer burned pints pile up next to the suddenly empty Quadratini shelf the next. Right now, it seems like Tong Shui—a mix of congee, beans, and sugar— is becoming the next fad dessert in Singapore, much like bubble tea was big just prior to its collapse last year. The dessert has been around for a long time as a Cantonese specialty, but it seems to be spreading.
I pick up a small bowl of Almond Tong Shui at least three times a week. I get it hot and eat it with a spoon (you drink the cold version directly from the bowl). While most Tong Shui is clear, the version that I buy at 22 Upper Cross Street (as far as I can tell, this is the name of the store) looks more like yogurt. You could make a similar dessert if you heated a small bowl of the Silk soybean-based vanilla yogurt and added a small amount of almond extract. It would not be entirely the same, but it would be close.
I like this dessert (and this particular form of the dessert) because it holds a great deal of potential for other recipes. Any cake made with this substance would be denser by degrees than a normal cake, and there is at least one yogurt-based recipe (which Flora taught me a long time ago) for Samosa dough which could be turned into a dessert recipe if I substituted Tong Shui for the yogurt. I may experiment this weekend. I’ve wanted to take Overheard in New York quotes and bake them into fortune cookies but the quotes are often too long. I could use the Tong Shui Samosa dough, though and make oversized fortune cookies.
Normal Tong Shui—which looks like a broth soup filled with vegetables or noodles— has had trouble getting traction in the states. Apparently the only two Tong shi restaurants in Manhattan closed this year. At the same time, the 22 Upper cross street version could do very well. Why? I looks more like a traditional western dessert. The differences comes down—I think—to blended vs unblended fruits/ nuts/ vegetables. That’s it. In the traditional case, I could never get traction outside the Chinese community in the states. There would be too much confusion about the food. I use a blender and a modern looking container and suddenly I have potential a dessert sensation.
Presentation, it turns out, is at least 50% of the challenge. Take Bread Talk. There are tons of Asian bread shops in the United States. Bread Talk could succeed with a wider audience because it does a better job presenting bread, offering smaller selection with better labeling and descriptions. This is also true of Best Cellars It offer a small selection of cheap to mid priced wines in a big space but provides more information per bottle in a very non-seedy atmosphere and has succeeded in a very competitive market. I’ve been asked to look at packaging for coffee in the past and the same thing is true.
Often products remain constant but packaging comes in and out of fashion. Go into 7-11 and look at the new array of plastic bottles. Often the products inside are very standard (or a combination of two different things such as snickers bars and milk—ick) but the bottles now come in all shapes and sizes, limited only by the challenge of loading the bottles on a pallet and getting them into a truck (a tougher task than getting them to stay upright on store shelves).
Okay, now I am off subject. I think. Work is a calling.
Normal Tong Shui
New Tong Shui
Posted by jb at 11:24 PM | Comments (0)
September 25, 2006
Opening the Wedding Store
I live in an apartment above a block of wedding stores. Another one has just opened today. There is a big banquet table set in the hallway at the btoom of my building. Some professional store opening ceremony providers are banging away spastically on drums just below the office window. It is impossible to work. All told, I'd rather be trapped back at college trying to sleep through the 30th rendition of "Life is a Highway" played in the gerden wedding reception area just outside the dorm.
Posted by jb at 11:21 PM | Comments (0)
Thailand Stuff
Back from Thailand. Spent Friday night/ Saturday morning in Bangkok and then took the train up to Ayuthaya where I rented a scooter and spent Saturday visiting different historical sites.
I had a hard time finding anyone who would rent out a scooter/ motorcycle in Bangkok-- the guest house proprietor looked at me like I was nuts when I asked
Spent Saturday night in a guest house on the small river that runs around the old city and then went back to Bangkok this morning, in time to walk through just the smallest fraction of the Chatuchak Weekend Market and Lumpini park, where I watched several aerobics instructors-- each with their own stage and pounding music-- lead 100 to 200 people at a time in hand waving foot stompin' exercise. This seems to be a big thing in Thailand-- I saw a similar jazzercise crowd in Aruthaya.
The jazzercise crowd in Aruthaya bopped around in an enclosed parking lot in front of the main municipal building. Someone had built an ornate fence between the parking lot and the sidewalk (the sidewalks were all shoulder-width or less in Aruthaya and parts of Bangkok) and a big stage with a huge photo of the king pushed its way out into the street from the fence. At ten meters in height (my guess) it was not the largest photo that I saw.
Photos and portraits of the king and his wife were everywhere in Thailand. Just about every shop had a photo. At the same time, the photos did not lend themselves to a ‘cult of personality’ feeling. Maybe that was because I don’t read Thai.
The coup was not really noticeable (at least for someone who does not read Thai since the papers went on about it). Thailand seems to be an effective mix between a democracy and a monarchy (the King does not have much formal power but a great deal of informal or symbolic power) and it looks like the military deposed the prime minister with the approval of the king. The more civic minded (maybe 5 out of every hundred people that I saw) wore bright yellow shirts with embroidered chest patches in support of the King. It's a given, though, since the King seems to be really popular. The Thai Baht didn't even swing that much (a few Baht against the dollar, nothing against the Singapore dollar) while I was there.
I suffered a fair amount of nausea on the trip. The swimming feeling, headaches. That sort of thing. I went to a pharmacy on Sunday and worked my way to finding a Dramamine substitute. The pharmacist was very helpful. Dramamine was not available so he recommended diphenhydramine (some Benadryl offshoot brand), which would put me to sleep. I told him that I wanted to focus on the nausea and he spent some time rummaging through the prescription drawers. Eventually he gave me some Sibelium and told me that it was good for nausea. I stopped by an internet café and looked it up. Apparently Sibelium is a prescription medication for migraines. I elected to deal with the nausea on the flight.
I’ve added Soontra—a modern looking juice stand-- to my list of two retail brands that could do very well in the States. The other is Bread Talk—a modern, small bread shop in Singapore with a slightly Japanese feel. Bread Talk could easily be the high end Dunkin Doughnuts of SE Asia. There are Dunkin Doughnuts here. I have no idea how they are faring. McDonalds, seems to do very well. Starbucks seems to do less well.
Posted by jb at 08:29 PM | Comments (0)
September 18, 2006
Somewhere
Somewhere in the United States, in Kentucky, Tennessee, South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas, or Indiana there is are select groups of kids who live in one time zone and go to school in a different time zone. Some of them wake up an hour later to go to school but end up going to bed an hour earlier every night. Others (in a different school district of course) need to get up an hour earlier but can stay out later. It is terrible both ways. I think of these as the summer kids (who can stay out later) and the winter kids (who can wake up an hour later). These kids do not become pen pals. There are probably numerous cross-time zone rivalries.
(8:02 AM)
Posted by jb at 08:03 PM | Comments (1)
Recycling
Over the summer of my last (I think) year of High School I had a semi job/volunteer position with the local recycling station near the post office in Kemblesville Township, Pennsylvania. On one of the long, brutally hot days, when patrons would make a run for it between the air conditioned interior of their cars, the trunk, and the recycling bin, I would stand in the parking lot, directing everyone and making sure that the number four plastics did not go in the number two container-- one of a series of big, turtle looking bins made from PVC with sliding windows in the front. Number one plastics, as I remember, were laundry detergent bottles, number two's I'm not sure about. I think number 3's were the Coke and Pepsi bottles. I could be wrong but each of these containers was filled with a distinct type of bottle, very pretty when you looked at it but awfully smelly, particularly in the heat.
At about one:30 in the afternoon in the middle of a normal broiling day, Joe Farber rode up on his bike. I was speaking with one of the recyclers at the time and when I turned around Joe was over near the turtle bins, opening each sliding deposit window, one after the other and looking in before shutting them. By the time I said “Hey…” he was in the number 3 bin, rolling around in the 2 and 3 liter Coke and Pepsi bottles. Given the heat inside the bins and the miasma of heavy syrupy odor that they exuded he stayed in the number 3 bin for a long time. Maybe five or six minutes. At least one recycler dashed form her car, carried stuff to the number 2 bin, paused, turned around, threw her recycling back in the trunk and drove off-- presumably in search of a different recycling station. The clatter on the outside was considerable. Even the glass dumpers stopped at the glass dumpster to see what was going on.
After five minutes or so, Joe climbed back out of the bin and stood in front of me. "You know JB, that was one of the most disgusting things I've ever done...I'm covered in backwash." He then got on his bike and rode off. It was like being visited by the Christmas reindeer of Kemblesville weirdness. We never mentioned this again. I think we both understood that it was a small event 'in itself.' that did not need to be discussed. I'm not sure what Joe thought about it. To this day, I'm not entirely sure what I've thought of it, except that I’ve always wanted to go and swim in the recycling container (and who wouldn’t) and while I have not gone for a swim myself, it's great to know someone who has.
(6:46)
In a completely unrelated incident, I managed to give myself a concussion on that same day a summer earlier, at a horse farm in a different township, when I bent down to get a drink from a regular, attached-to-the-barn garden hose only to look over, in slow motion, and watch the water spill on to an electric fence a foot away from my face. The electrical impulse was, of course, invisible, but my memory has permanently inscribed a faint white spark that glimmered as it traveled upstream to grab me in the molars
(6:54)
Posted by jb at 06:46 AM | Comments (0)
September 14, 2006
Singapore National Library
Sometimes, the only way to appreciate cultural difference is to step into a border area between the public and the private, where the government brushes directly up against its constituents.
I'd been to the National library before but I'd always gone up to the top floors to look for the books instead of heading toward the basement. Dozens of kids were down there, teenagers, packed 2-3 per conference table. All quietly studying. Not a sound. Around them, the library built metal shelf after metal shelf of books, each shelf approximately 3/4 full; each book standing up completely straight and (here's the kicker) perfectly lined up at the spines.
I walked through the aisles and counted exactly two books that were tilted to one side. Otherwise they were each completely perpendicular...and shiny too. No frayed covers anywhere. It was the uniform depth that really got me, though. Apparently, the library has hired someone to walk back and forth along the shelves with a ruler in order to make sure that the books line up in perfect lines.
The visual effect is shocking. It did not help that the fire alarm went off when I took a book off of the shelf. I put it back and for a moment I was sitting in a discarded Kafka novel. It was 2020 and an alarm had gone off because someone without library membership had moved a book out of its perfect whitecappedtooth row. I checked the book for a RFID tag and put it back. A friendly animatronic voice came over the loudspeaker. This is the library system, a fire alarm has been pulled. Please remain calm. We are investigating.
Aiee!
Posted by jb at 05:55 AM | Comments (0)
September 10, 2006
Martin Amis: Notes
Martin Amis has written an essay (23 typed pages roughly) for the Guardian on Islamism. It is worth reading as an example of the intellectual contortions that are taking place as writers and artists—in the space of five years— develop a response to the fifty year radicalization of Islam
The essay, as expected, is a mess. It reads as if he started and stopped and started again and was forced to meet deadlines that prevented him from scrapping at least a third of the material. It is a study in indirectness that wraps popular analysis of Islam (notably Bernard Lewis’ “What Went Wrong”) with a personal narrative regarding a novella that he wrote almost to completion before abandoning. The novella is there to provide context for the small, personal Islam of a jihadi while the writings of Mr. Lewis and others are there to provide the ‘bigger picture.’ Mr. Amis adds his own material to a third part that winnows its way through the text, having no point but making sharp observations on sex, Donald Rumsfeld’s “unknown unknowns,” and the war in Iraq until the end, when he presents solutions that negate—implicitly if not explicitly- many of his former points.
His points:
- Islamism has won over moderate Islam
- Islamism has an unhealthy obsession with sex and women’s roles and this has screwed the social form of the religion
- The west had no idea that Islam was in a state of convulsion until six years ago
- The west cannot— institutionally— understand suicide bombing because of its mixed elements of social training and approbation from birth, sense of personal religious submission fostered by Islam, and potential (as happens with suicide in the west) for emotional conflagration among teenagers who are wrestling with love, sexuality, and socialization
- Admiration and the search for understanding was an understandable first reaction to suicide bombing on the part of western intellectuals, first because the western mind automatically equated the extremity of the action with the presumably extreme conditions placed on a ‘people’ by colonial and neo colonial powers. I’d like to add a second point here: suicide bombing, from a distance, fit too comfortably into a modern western aesthetic most visible in the arts, where contemporary artists had spent years searching for brutal and extreme (within the confines of their safe, mutually respectful environments) ways of giving voice to visceral emotion.
- Our pragmatic attitude toward religion, our sense of multiculturalism, makes us weak and unable to respond to the driving sense of purpose that imbues those who are really practicing religion
- George W. Bush and Tony Blair made a woeful mistake in approaching this threat with a ‘bring it on’ attitude— as if they were really stepping directly into a ring and dragging America and Britain along with them
- We can win against Islam by championing women’s rights and by investing money in international programs that promote the rights of women
- We can win against Islam by fighting tooth and nail against all religion
Nine points then. This essay covers a great deal of ground. Points number one to six reflect common attitudes on the right in the United States, point seven reflects a middle of the road set of concerns while omitting the conspiracy theories of the left, and points eight and nine swing leftward. The idea that you can fund ingrained cultural behavior out of existence— as he wants to do with prevailing Islamic attitudes toward women— reflects a popular strain of academic thought. The idea that we should mount a war on all religion because it is all violent and dangerous can also be characterized as a trope of the left.
The arc makes me feel bad for George Bush. It is easy to see how his attempt to force along an intellectual process that will require ten years to sort out instead of six months will only inflame academics who have been trained since birth never to make a non-utopian bet that involves other people’s lives. In addition, he is dealing with a tendency to mask vague emotion with talking points that make no sense. In this essay, Amis states that Islamists are totally irrational by western standards. At the same time, GW has made the problem worse by using language that is—as the academics see it—inflammatory. Thirdly, we should solve this problem not by engaging in wars but by somehow going into each and every Islamist household and affecting radical change at the single most contentious pivot point between the lock on the front door and the last wall behind the master bed.
To summarize, the focus goes from major 'big picture' social problems to academic problems of sematics and language (evidence: the overwhelming focus on GW's language gaffes) and then to the interpersonal, where academics feel most comfortable and where finely wrought language practices have allowed us to feel secure with each other.
Make no mistake, even marginal progress in equality was one of the great outcomes in Afghanistan. At the same time, the idea that this can take place without at least the threat of real violence on the part of the West is a bit ridiculous. GW is right in his observation that the soccer field executions and the stoning and the beating and lynching of women who are often underage and often the victims of rape happens in the context of state and local law. He is further right that the first step in addressing this should require us to change the political structures that enable or enforce these laws. That said, even GW is not willing to suggest that we attempt to change institutionalized conservative Islam either by storming the houses and placing everyone in retraining camps or by setting up small assertiveness training schools in each town. In the same vein, even GW is not couching his solution as an attack on all religion.
Martin Amis clearly needs to try his hand at a solution again. His opening observations are a great start but his mid range notes and conclusions are weak and nonsensical. While I doubt that many at the Whitehouse read the Guardian (you can only read so much hate mail in one day), GW should take some assurance from this. I suspect that many outside the fever swamps of the left and right have less of a chip on their shoulder than he might think. Instead, he is seeing friction between two timelines: the timeline of those who are seeking means to kill us in batches and the longer timeline of those who are attempting to develop a solution that is not in conflict with longstanding academic values of open inquiry and personal freedom.
Some quotes from the article:
On our side, extraordinary rendition, coercive psychological procedures, enhanced interrogation techniques, Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib, Haditha, Mahmudiya, two wars, and tens of thousands of dead bodies. All this should of course be soberly compared to the feats of the opposed ideology, an ideology which, in its most millennial form, conjures up the image of an abattoir within a madhouse… we now know what happens when Islamism gets its hands on an army (Algeria) or on something resembling a nation state (Sudan). In the first case, the result was fratricide, with 100,000 dead; in the second, following the Islamist coup in 1989, the result has been a kind of rolling genocide, and the figure is perhaps two million.
Suicide-mass murder is astonishingly alien, so alien, in fact, that Western opinion has been unable to formulate a rational response to it. A rational response would be something like an unvarying factory siren of unanimous disgust. But we haven't managed that. …Contemplating intense violence, you very rationally ask yourself, what are the reasons for this? And compassionately frowning newscasters are still asking that same question. It is time to move on. We are not dealing in reasons because we are not dealing in reason.
Once the redoubled suppression had taken hold, the human bombings decreased; and world opinion quietened down. The Palestinians were now worse off than ever, their societal gains of the Nineties 'flattened by Israeli tanks'. But the protests 'rose and fell in tandem with the suicide bomb attacks, and not in tandem with the suffering of the Palestinian people'.
This was because suicide-mass murder presented the West with a philosophical crisis. The quickest way out of it was to pretend that the tactic was reasonable, indeed logical and even admirable: an extreme case of 'rationalist naivete',… And if we are going to hear the rhetoric of delusion and self-hypnosis, then we might as well hear it from a Stockholm Laureate - the Portuguese novelist Jose Saramago…Here he focuses his lofty gaze on the phenomenon of suicide-mass murder:'Ah, yes, the horrendous massacres of civilians caused by the so-called suicide terrorists... Horrendous, yes, doubtless; condemnable, yes, doubtless, but Israel still has a lot to learn if it is not capable of understanding the reasons that can bring a human being to turn himself into a bomb.'
It is painful to stop believing in the purity, and the sanity, of the underdog. It is painful to start believing in a cult of death, and in an enemy that wants its war to last for ever.
In a single month (May), there were more human bombings in Iraq than during the entire intifada. And this, on 25 July, was the considered response of the Mayor of London to the events of 7 July:'Given that they don't have jet planes, don't have tanks, they only have their bodies to use as weapons. In an unfair balance, that's what people use.'
I remember a miserable little drip of a poem, c2002, that made exactly the same case. No, they don't have F-16s. Question: would the Mayor like them to have F-16s? And, no, their bodies are not what 'people' use. They are what Islamists use. And we should weigh, too, the spiritual paltriness of such martyrdoms.
'Sayyid Qutb, Osama bin Laden's favourite philosopher, felt that pragmatism would spell the death of American civilisation... Pragmatism, when civilisations come clashing, does not appear likely to be very pragmatic. To lose the conviction that you can actually be right - about anything - seems a recipe for the End of Days chaos envisioned by Yeats: when "the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity".
Other sources for commentary on this essay (from Technorati):
Jeff Jarvis
Michelle Malkin
Posted by jb at 06:15 PM | Comments (0)
Weekend in the city
This is a boring, piecemeal update.
I’ve spent the weekend in Singapore. I’m not sure what I’ve been thinking but I spent Saturday walking around the Chinese district, just beyond the point where Northbridge road crosses the bridge and becomes Southbridge road.
The apartment complexes near Neil’s road are Singapore’s lame attempt at having a “wrong side of the tracks.” Large billboard sized posters shout that “Low crime does not mean no crime” and that “Everyone should be aware of pickpockets” but if there is any crime here, I suspect that it comes from drunk Australians. I could probably walk through these high rise apartments at three in the morning with 500-dollar bills stapled to my shirt and I’d still be okay.
There is a tea chapter on Neil’s. This is an old school Chinese tea house/ club. I spent an hour there on Saturday, drinking a high grade Ooolong tea. I was seated in the Chinese section
( Inset: there was a Chinese section, a Korean section, and a Japanese section—each with different seating styles. The Chinese section was the most European, with marble topped tables and backed wooden chairs; the Korean section had small rooms with long benches and small tables. I have no idea what the Japanese section on the third floor looks like- probably spiked hello kitty benches from the Meji period.)
The waiter who sent me to the Chinese table near the street facing windows on the second floor came by and helped me choose the tea. At first he just asked me whether I had a preference for one province (Fujian, I think) over a different province (Guangdong, I think). This was a great question (the equivalent of asking a California tourist whether they prefer wines from the Napa valley over those of Sonoma or vice versa) because it forced me to tell him that I had no real knowledge of tea. A good move. I might otherwise have chosen the tea from Guangdong, which carries a heavy floral bouquet that can interfere with the non-aromatic taste of the tea (some day, I will use that factoid)
The waiter brought the tea over and walked through the tea drinking process. I’d known that tea drinkers typically pour tea from the first brewing vessel into a second cooling vessel before pouring it into a cup. I did not know, however, that Chinese tea drinkers (this may have been different in the Korean and Japanese rooms) pour the tea from the cooling vessel first into a fragrance cup (so they can smell the tea) and then into a color & clarity drinking cup (more stout than the willowy fragrance cup) in order to check the color just before drinking the tea.
Tea Equipment
There were several other steps, including a first infusion step where the tea is poured from the cooling vessel back over the outer surface of the brewing vessel since the first infusion is usually too bitter to drink. After the waiter left, I spent an hour noodling my way through a large pot and a small pack of dry tea leaves.
After I left the tea house, I wandered around some more and visited the Singapore Asian Civilizations Museum.
Now, I’m at work and listening to yet another thunderstorm roll over the Island.
Posted by jb at 03:19 AM | Comments (1)