pepperknit

We’re not afraid.

Downtown Singapore is, let’s face it, like almost any other cosmopolitan city (with exceptions, of course). It’s modern, it’s clean, and it’s easy to navigate. But head out of downtown, and it gets decidedly more provincial, with open-air restaurants with plastic chairs, fewer English speakers, and—we hoped—more authentic food. Driving north out of downtown, my mom had spotted The Roti Prata House and was dying to try it. So dad did some city bus research, and mom and I set off on the bus—in a direction opposite every other trip from home we’ve ever taken—and traveled half an hour to sample the roti prata.

Roti prata is another of those “top 10″ Singaporean foods—a flat bread (”roti” means bread and “prata” means flat) quite like a crepe. And just like a crepe, savory foods can be wrapped up in them or they can be eaten plain with sugar. Curry is their best friend. We got the chicken murtabak, which is a large prata with chicken, carrots, onion, and spices stuffed inside (bottom of the photo below). It’s served with a bowl of pale curry sauce (top left). The filling was light, with the shredded carrot giving it a sweetness, and the curry was nice and spicy. We also got the mutton briyani (middle and right), which was excellent. The curry it was in was my favorite—I pretty much scooped some in every bite.

A glance into the back of the restaurant revealed a small cart with an “Indian Rojak” sign. Rojak is another Singaporean staple—it’s a salad—but this? This was not normal rojak. We asked our sweet waiter, who was amused by us and our picture-taking and patiently did his best to explain things to us in his limited English, if we could have some. He made it clear that we were to go up and choose it ourselves. Huh? OK, I’ll go.

What we’d thought was fruit from afar turned out to be a whole assortment of fritter-like objects. I finally got him to tell me what they were. There was a whole range, from prawn fritters (top right) to coconut-onion (middle top—YUM), to fish cake (bottom left—I put that one back) to tofu squares (bottom right). I also picked a veggie fritter (top left). I started to walk back to the table with the plate but he stopped me—no, you give it to them and they re-fry the fritters and bring them to us. OK!

In fact they then chopped it up, mixed it all together with raw cukes, green chiles, and onions, and served it with a heated sweet sauce. A mixture of different fried fritters in a salad? That’s my kinda salad. It was really tasty (I didn’t like the sweet sauce, though).

Our only major “miss” in this meal was the drink we saw someone else drinking and decided to try, on a whim. Rose bandung. Um. I did no color correcting to this photo. And it tastes EXACTLY how it looks, only MORE perfumey and nasty.

In all, the meal for the both of us (which probably qualified as a meal for 3 people) cost $14 Sing! That’s probably about $10. We were stuffed full and happy. YUM.

I keep starting to write about more of our eating adventures but I quickly lose my focus and end up scrapping the post. But what exactly am I trying to say other than that the food here is amazing?

Singapore’s most famous dish is chili crab. I didn’t have any last time I was here, which is a sad, sad thing.

It’s a large crab—different sites seem to indicate different kinds of crab. It looks kinda dungenessy . . . one of the tanks in the restaurant said “Canadian Dungeness” . . . one site says “mud crab” . . . another specifies “Sri Lankan crab.” Basically, it’s a crab. It’s not—and I can say this with absolute certainty—a blue, the crabs of the American East Coast (and my most favorite). The meat is still pretty sweet, but like most larger crabs, it isn’t as delicate and melting as a blue. But a blue’s meat probably couldn’t hold up to the super sweet/spicy chili sauce. You dig right in, eating with your hands, and it’s a big sticky mess. So it’s a good thing that Singapore is practically devoid of paper napkins, instead opting for wet-nap–like wipes. (It’s very disconcerting to sit down to eat and not have something covering your lap. But apparently they’re neater eaters here.)

It’s common to get man tou, a sweet donut-like bread, to sop up the sauce (I didn’t get a photo of that—fingers and hands were coated in chili sauce!). They were tasty.

My friend Des, a Singaporean, argues that black pepper crab is now the dish that has captured Singaporeans’ hearts. So I tried that too.

I liked it better than the chili crab, actually. There’s not much to say about it—nice and peppery. The crab is the same, and the eating process is just as messy.

Another seafood staple that’s popular here (my dad thinks it’s a distinctly Singaporean dish) is the cereal prawn.

The “cereal” is a kind of oat and the shrimp is peel ‘n’ eat. I really liked the oaty coating—it’s great mixed with rice.

And just because we had these three things at the same meal, I have to mention these amazing honey ribs we got that night, too. They would hold their own against any of the offerings at the Big Apple BBQ!

The meat fell off the bone, the glaze was sticky and sweet and dark, like soy.

All these food adventures are lining up nicely with the Singapore Food Festival. They’ve listed 10 Must Eat foods—I’ve had 6 already. The dinner above let me only cross the chili crab off the list. Others I’ve already eaten include char kway teow (which I had last Sunday but my photograph is decidedly unpalatable), satay (which is the same here as it is in the States), laksa (i’ve had it twice now, and: LOVE), Hainanese chicken rice (haven’t had it yet on this visit, but I’m sure I will), and fried carrot cake (not what you think—hard to describe). Others left to sample include fish head curry, roti prata, rojak, and bak kut teh. Stay tuned for these and more culinary adventures!

A year ago, Stacey over at Earthchick Knits almost lost one of her sons in a scary accident—one that could happen to anyone—at the beach. She’s celebrating the fact that he survived with a raffle that benefits a great group and could yield you all sorts of delicious goodies! Go here to participate. But you’d better not win the prize I want!!

Worldwide Knit in Public Day, which was a week ago Saturday, was something of a blur, and completely different than my solitary kip of two years ago.

Anne-Marie, the organizer of Sit ‘n’ Knit New York, planned for a WWKIP extravaganza in Central Park, complete with park permit, and asked me to be the official photographer. Yesterday I delivered the choicest photos to her, so now I can post about the event!

In all, about 60 people came to knit—of all ages. It was pretty humid, but the shady spot was pleasant. One woman made lemon bars and cookies for the whole group! People shared blankets. The Sit ‘n’ Knit group is large and diverse, and each event has a different mix of people, but I’ve had great conversations and made connections with everyone I’ve talked to.

Anne-Marie and her corps of volunteers had gathered a lot of great items for a raffle. If you came, you got one ticket. If you donated a knitted hat or item to charity, you got an additional ticket for each item. I had no time to knit for charity, but was lucky enough to win on my one entry! One skein of Malabrigo, donated by Knitty City. I have never used Malabrigo before—not sure what this will become, but the colors are perfect for me. The other Malabrigo prize was a gorgeous bright blue—but not nearly so “me.”

Once all the prizes were awarded, we retired to a nearby bar for more knitting, plus drinking (and food). And from there a whole crowd of us walked to Knitty City, where I bought one skein of Cascade 220 superwash to knit a baby sweater (Penelope swears I can get a Feb Baby Sweater out of one skein, but Ravelry indicates otherwise. How daring am I feeling?).

I’m in my final week before I leave for Singapore for a month. This means I’m mentally planning all the knitting to bring with me—mom and I will likely have plenty of time to hang out and knit. I think a sweater is in order, but the possibilities are overwhelming! Decisions, decisions.

I have never wished for my camera more than I did tonight, at Shakespeare in the Park’s production of Hamlet. Not because Lauren Ambrose’s carrot-red hair was cascading down half her back in luscious curls. Not because of Andre Braugher, who I’ve known since his days on Homicide (and the general lust my old roommate had for him). Not Sam Waterson rockin’ Polonius’s bumbling pomposity. Or B’s mom, playing Hamlet’s mom. No, it was because of the storm.

A lot of you on the East Coast can join me in lamenting the heat wave lately—high 90s (heat index even higher) and gross humidity for the past 4 days, and we’ve suffered every last minute. But intense storms, featuring hail, lightning, thunder, and winds were predicted for tonight. Pshaw, I said! I’m going to see Hamlet!

Things started out just “fine”—albeit with oppressive heat, little to no breeze, the works. I felt so badly for the performers, pretending it was chilly and laden with wool coats. And then? Suddenly, while the Players were orating, the wind started stirring the trees in a way that can only be described as ominous. It as all too fitting with the action on the stage, and it all came to a head when Hamlet was speaking alone. Leaves started pelting the audience and the stage, the eternal flame at center stage went out, and I felt the pain of being without my camera. Imagine a solitary man at the center of a swirling mass of dirt and leaves and rain, carrying on his speech and even working the mood into his delivery. It was masterful! I know I’ll remember it forever; I just wish I could share it with you.

The next scene had four actors up on a scaffold, and a gust of wind so violent made them all just stop, and I think I saw Andre Braugher laugh. They were interrupted—show had to be canceled for safety. The audience had already started clearing out en masse, and I was eyeing the swaying, hanging lights and going over all my Worst-Case knowledge.

We joined the crowds in dashing out of Central Park. Halves of trees were laying around; these weren’t some stray branches down, this was like the cleaving of the arbor. They blocked the paths. Intense. Awesome. Lightning bolts streaked across the sky, lighting everything blue. I think I shouted twenty times “ARGH! I wish I had my camera!” If I had brought it with me (they’d been so strident that there was absolutely no picture taking that I decided to not carry it all around), I probably wouldn’t have risked taking it out anyway, with the wind and rain, but I so wish I could share it in pictures as well as words. I should remember it’s fun to write sometimes, too.

Everyone’s best blog bud, Pam, is turning 30 years old today! Back on my triumphant day, she told me that she was fearing turning 30. So like any caring, loving friend, I decided I would find a way to rub her face in her 30-ness as much as possible. And what better way than to make her wear a shirt featuring herself, declaring her 30-ness?

I pulled out the freezer paper and my fabric paints, and I got to work, building Pam from the bottom up.

I used this photo as my guideline. Those pigtails are so distinctively her, but the glasses really make it Pam, don’t they? And though you can’t tell, I did put sparkly fabric paint on to give it the rhinestones.

Of course, this is all in the manner of an elaborate and time-consuming gag gift—nothing like the amazing blouse she made me—but I hope it brings her a similar level of joy. And here’s to embracing our age, no matter what it is! xoxo and happiest of happys, Pam—you wear 30 well!

This week marks my blog’s third birthday. Three! I can’t even believe it. How quickly they grow up.

It’s natural to take some time for reflection, so indulge me a moment here. First off, my knitting knowledge has increased a zillionfold. I’ve knit some amazing patterns and created a bunch of my own. But most of all I met so many likeminded people! A lot of these friends are now real life friends—I chatter at length about camera lenses with them (and, in one case, her husband!), I debate who the last Cylon is with them, I kick their ass at Boggle (and in turn get my ass handed to me at Scrabble) online, I IM them when I do a boneheaded thing at work, I call them when I stand next to Al Roker for 5 minutes before I realize it’s him. I go to visit them, and when they come to New York we play in my city. They’re no longer just people “in the computer”—our relationships have definitely become real. I never would have known a lot of you if it weren’t for our blogs. And then there’s everyone whose blogs I read whenever I get a chance, who live lives so much more interesting than my own, who always have something to teach me! Here’s to the blogosphere! Oh, this is getting too cheesy. You know you love me. xoxo.

But where have I been for the past few weeks, you ask? I’ve certainly not been blogging. But I promise I’ve been knitting. I’ve been designing. And soon—very soon—I will debut my first “real” pattern. I’ve got a test knitter lined up, but the first step is to just carve out the time to finesse the design and provide all the tutorials that will go along with it. It’s my top non-work priority. Here’s a sneak peek.

Lolly and I are playing in NYC!

I’ve been itching to post here lately, for no other reason than my return to blogging has made me want to do it even more, but I haven’t had much to chat about. I’m knitting only secret projects right now, so there’s nothing to show. I’m working on some non-knitting crafts, but they’re not photogenic yet.

But I have a confession to make. I got to see Pam again. And it turns out she has something of a secret. Because though she’s mentioned the band, I hadn’t realized she was a rockstar.

I missed Empty Orchestra’s show on Thursday, and I hadn’t paid much attention to where their show on Friday would be. Turns out Long Island City isn’t way the heck out on the island, like you might think; it’s just one subway stop out from Manhattan in Queens! When she let me know that we’d completely misinterpreted their location, well, I surprised myself by bundling up and heading right out. (Another secret: When I’ve got it in my head that I’m “in” for the night, it’s normally impossible to get me out of the house.)

Note Pam’s Ravelry T-shirt. You can’t escape the knitting.

Not only did I get to meet Stephen and the rest of the band, but I met some friends of their from Flint who live in New York, one of whom makes instruments (bass). (Yay for crafty folks of all kinds.) And I even ran into someone I recently met—he’d remembered the name Empty Orchestra, was coming by the bar anyway, so decided to check them out and see if I was in attendance.

I have to admit, I had some trepidation about going to a show by myself. But I had lots of time to hang out with Pam beforehand and afterward, and I met enough people that I could have a conversation with a few different people. And I could always hide behind the camera, if necessary. So the biggest secret of all? I had a total blast.

Left Unfinished #1

Many of you asked about the many many lovely small skeins of yarn I got as a birthday present. They’re Koigu, sample sizes. A friend had received them but she’s not as much of a knitter as I am. I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do with them, but keen observers noticed that I’d arranged them in a deliberate sequence of progressing colors . . . because I’ve got entrelac on the brain. Note that I’ve never done entrelac before, but how hard can it be? For now, though, the yarn is marinating in a box under the couch. First I need to wait for a night when all I’m in the mood to do is wind yarn on the ball winder. (You can’t force nights like that.)

Left Unfinished #2

I had a contest! Remember? I asked for advice for my newly 30 self. The responses were quite varied, and ranged from the mollifying to the enthusiastic. Personally, I preferred the enthusiastic–no way should anyone be worried about turning 30! I had two prizes to give out–a copy of Folk Socks and a skein of Neighborhood Fiber Company sock yarn (I know I didn’t tell you that that was what it was going to be, but that’s what I have to give). My father was regularly checking the comments, and he couldn’t help weighing in on who should win. I had intended to go with some kind of random number, but he was partially impartial enough for me! (That is, it’s not like he knows one of your from another and could have been playing some kind of preconceived favorites. Plus, my blog, my rules.) I’m happy to announce the winner of the book is Nell, and the yarn goes to Serenknitity! (The book/yarn designation was totally random–it’s not as if he said “I think the yarn is best for her” or anything, and to me they’re equally wonderful gifts. I hope you feel the same way.) Congrats, and thanks everyone for playing! I’ve emailed the winners to ask for addresses, but here’s a reminder to get in touch.

Left Unfinished #3

Jenn tagged me for a meme. I’m a month late and a dollar short, but I figured, hey, I’ll play! I’ve done these kinds of things before, but I’ll try to come up with new and interesting things. “Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.”

1. When I’m waiting to meet a friend, I always fear that I won’t recognize him or her. It’s been pointed out to me that I have no experience of having not recognized someone (also: for some reason I think the sole responsibility for recognizing falls on my shoulders), but the worry comes up nonetheless. This happens no matter how long I’ve known someone–20 years or 2 months–and I inevitably recognize my friend from more than a block away by gait alone.
2. Speaking of gait, I am generally very good at identifying someone by just the sound of their footfalls. This skill was first developed in college, when you hear people walking up and down the hall at all times, and it has been since honed in office settings.
3. You know how a strand of your own hair will come unattached from your head and fall to the floor? Only it almost never falls right to the floor–it settles on your shirt and tickles the back of your arm? This annoys me so much that I am constantly reaching around and grabbing at my arm/shirt to hopefully grasp any stray hairs to get rid of them. I don’t know if I’m particularly sensitive to this, but the slightest end of a strand of hair out of place drives me crazy.
4. I’m one of those people who can smell the asparagus in my pee. Apparently–I read this in a book once–the agent that causes the smell is always there, it’s just that some people can smell it and others can’t.
5. I believe that certain artificial flavors–notably “grape” and anything that uses the word “blue” or crazy blue packaging–don’t taste like anything but that color. That is, things labeled “grape” actually just taste purple, and “Sharkelberry Fin” Kool-Aid (which is raucously blue) just tastes like blue. This theory is particularly convenient when it comes to orange things. (ha!)

So there are my 5 weird facts. In case you didn’t notice, they’re all about the senses.

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OK! With unfinished business out of the way, I can happily move onto finished business. And then some new unfinished business, which will eventually turn into finished business, and–hey!–I seem to have discovered the trick to this knitblogging thing!