More than meats the eye...

Not very inspiring right? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

My workplace yesterday closed for a good three hours as we headed out for lunch at Half Moon Restaurant in Seri Kembangan. The restaurant name, its supposed specialty and location did not rub well with me but I decided to keep my comments and go into the wait-and-see mode.

Four cars convoyed to this precinct in the capital where no one was entirely familiar with. I read in some blogs in the morning that the restaurant is located not far from South City Plaza. I don't know where the plaza was but they said it was this building on the left just as you pass the Sungai Besi toll plaza. That piece of information is really a non-starter because there is no access road after the toll to anywhere and the first way out is exit 209 to UNITEN.

Fortunately one of us had the service of a borrowed sat-nav so he led the marauding charge but not without hiccup. Is it by default that we must get lost whenever we venture into a new turf? The sight of four cars taking turns making a u-turn also reminded me so much of out-of-town wedding trips. Who can tell me that they've never got lost getting to a reception somewhere in the neck of woods of Kuala Pilah? I suppose there is nothing wrong with a little misadventure to get to good food and great company right?

The descent onto Seri Kembangan is our office's newly-formed Gluttons Club's quest to find good food but one that is not part of a franchise or an international brand. So Pizza Hut is out. And PappaRich and certainly KFC. Not even Nasi Lemak Antarabangsa, please. We seek to find hidden gems anywhere they may be, methodically raid the place and masticate like gluttons. We aim to do this on a monthly basis and every time you'll see a new organizer (or chairman). This inaugural do is thanks to my colleague but I have been chosen to be the next organizer. My dear colleagues, good luck.

Half Moon ran into chaos for a moment when we arrived. Some customers were irritated judging by the look in their eyes even though we haven't started banging on the table and chant we want food, we want food. The waitstaff sprung to arrange four tables horizontally to accommodate our party. I noticed there was a sizeable number of middle easterners dining at the restaurant; I didn't know Seri Kembangan has a large population. No wonder Half Moon opened here.

The other end of the long table (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Not easy to achieve the glowing moon effect on the menu cover (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Hey guys, can we change the colour on this thing? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

In unison we agreed that we should have more lamb than chicken. Hummous is a must at any middle eastern joint and so is tabbouleh, a Lebanese salad. Cucumber yoghurt will provide the light perspective to the expected heavy meals. We did not take that long a time to decide on what to have but the act of ordering in itself took a longer time than deciding what to eat. Not only that the attending waiter had a strong accent that made comprehension incomprehensible to a certain extent, our representative also had to sort out the administrative, you know like how many people can a plate cater to, how much should we order to make 17 kids happy, what goes well with what, et cetera. I saw a lot of hand signals in play.

To the uninitiated, Biryani is as much middle eastern as it is south asian. No one could thump her chest and announce that the cuisine originated from her birthplace, similarly with chilli crab and yee sang. Most of the nations in the Arabian peninsula and southern asia have their own version of the biryani. Consisting of pretty much the same basic ingredients such as long grain rice and spices, it is the type or number of spices used and way of preparation that sets one biryani apart from another.

Serving and eating manners are also different. In Pakistan or India, they prefer their biryani dry i.e. without gravy. The Arabs they share a plate, or a platter to be more accurate. We like to be generous with the dal curry so much so that there is a puddle forming on the plate, then you ask yourself where have the rice gone to. Biryani for whatever it's worth, must be delicious and 'solid' enough to stand on its own, to be eaten by itself. That's the acid test or so the experts say. Dishes like veggies, eggs, salad and curry are complimentary flavours. In certain other recipes, meat like lamb, beef or chicken is cooked together with the rice, in the pot.

The aluminum foil in the foreground was used to wrap the royal lamb (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Maghdut lamb, Royal Lamb and Haneth Chicken made it to the list, apart from the side items. Despite the ordering downtime, the food left the kitchen almost instantly. We just gawked at the industrial-standard (it's larger than the usual diameter) steel plates before our eyes. The portion was huge! Even the meats seized the opportunity to conceal themselves under the mountain of rice. We've read or heard about how Arabs have big appetite and maybe how one bearded fellow can devour a poor lamb (slow-roasted or grilled, not alive) in eight minutes but you've always dismissed that as an urban myth concocted by the travel magazine. It's real let me tell you! Their cultural surrounding, geographical conditions and their physical make-up justify the big eating habit. We are no match in that department.

Note the difference in diameter (Apple iPhone 3GS)

My best biryani experiences were conceived in Delhi and Brick Lane in East London and I never expected Seri Kembangan to come close. Now I would like to put it out in the open and declare that Half Moon's fares rank high up there in my personal list of talented biryanis. All the winning signs were displayed. The grains were loose, they did not stick to each other. As a lone dish the taste was out of this world. The chicken and the lamb were perfectly cooked, diffused the right colours, gave the right tenderness and aroma. The lamb meat did not smell too badly.

The sides had their bright spots too. The hummous dip, although it was a no-frill version, had the right degree of bitterness to it. The flatbread was crunchy and delicious even on its own. The tabbouleh did not make it to our table (must have been lost in translation), instead what appeared was the Arab salad which did not disappoint at all. The cucumber yoghurt was refreshing although they could be more charitable with the green cylindrical thing.

It was becoming increasingly evident that the Gluttons Club members could not handle the amount of food spread before them. Perhaps renaming the club to a more genteel name like the Foodies Club would be more apt. We struggled labouriously but all's not lost as we managed six plastic containers of leftovers to take back to the office. If only Adam Richman was a member...

Beautiful isn't it? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Bee there or bee square

It has some outdoor seats (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Sunday is a lazy day for the PH household and we don't normally start early but today I found myself bargaining with my other half on who should go into the shower first. 10 minutes extra time of slumber could do one a world of good, mind you. Needless to say, it was my other half who got the better end of the negotiation.

Our friend (the one from this post) had invited the PH household for brunch at this outlet called The Bee at Jaya One. So we had to haul up everyone, including the youngest member to get dressed and ready to hit the road before 10.30 in the a.m. To my delight, there was not much of that drama normally associated with cutting short a child's sleep.

Still, running slightly behind, I had to drive faster than usual but at a speed befitting a family man wanting to ferry his family safely to the destination. Much to my annoyance, we discovered that the building owner had added '32' more counts so now it's known as Jaya 33. When did this happen, I wondered.

My other half was quick to cash in on that bubu and declared that I had got it wrong (you have no idea how that felt inside) and instructed me to go to another location: "the mall that's visible from Kanna Curry House," she muttered. I had this niggling feeling that this wasn't the correct place either but decided to keep it to myself. Besides, what other chance did I have? The only way to find out was to drive there, wasn't it?

True enough, a different address greeted us. It was the SSTwo shopping mall. We were now even. I spunned a perfect u-turn, almost horseshoe in shape, just to emphasise how wrong she was.

Jaya One turned out to be located along the same block at KDU College and neighboured with Palm Square on Jalan Universiti, Petaling Jaya.

Our friend was already seated when we got there. The only other patrons I noticed were maybe a couple and a small family. I was smitten by the decor which employed concrete flooring and exposed brickworks. Thick wooden racks lined the naked red wall, keeping windowed biscuit tins and knick-knacks from yesteryears in order. At the other end of the counter was a dark and moody wall with equally dark wing chairs and sofa filling the space. Our friend later revealed that people recite poems there every once in a while.

Very homey feel (Apple iPhone 3GS)

To while away the time, we played Scrabble, the card version (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Jaya One also houses the Petaling Jaya Life Arts (or PJLA in short) theatre. PJLA aims to bring the creative and performance arts to the community. I don't know if it is PJLA's handy work or the proprietor's who makes the recital happens but it's thanks all the same because where else can you listen to live poem declamation and tuck into a juicy, humongous burger at the same time?

Have you been here? Bee is on the left of this picture, not in-frame (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Perhaps my oogling and salivating at the menu was what prompted the waitstaff to point out that they only served what's on the brunch list. Really? Oh, darn that! I had the juicy, humongous burger in mind. Apparently, from 10 am to 4 pm in the weekends, they only do the brunch menu.

Feeling like pigging it out ever since I started the day, my worthy alternative had to be the Bee Big Breakfast. My other half and her sister ordered the Portobello mushroom with Swiss Gruyere cheese omelette. Her nephew, Huevos Rancheros wrap. My elder son's same as mine. My younger boy and our friend preferred the butter cinnamon pancake.

The size of the BBB did not live up to its name. The kitchen manager or whoever responsible should have allocated a double portion for each of the item on the plate. But the smokiness of the chicken sausage, evident in the first through to the last chomp had more than made up the shortcoming in food measure. I didn't remember it tasting like eraser either. This was real sausage. And the scrambled egg was just my kind! Plain yet tasty, runny yet fluffy and wholesome, having it with the toasted sourdough bread was enough to put your sorrows away. Temporarily that is until I dug into the hash browns. There was so much oil you can use it to fry more hash browns. Dabbing this beef patty-like chopped fried potatoes with kitchen towel before serving your customers would do no harm. But maybe some of you out there prefer them oily. For me, the flesh inside should be white, not yellow which meant that it had soaked up all the grease. And the crispy shell should make that cracking sound when your polished teeth crushed into it, not a meek yawn. So, do you still like them oily?

Note the disfigured hash brown at the top of the dish. That's thanks to my other half (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Beans tossed with salsa, that's what beans rancheros were. These came together with the BBB, as much the sausage and the hash. My first time sampling this Mexican treat and I could not decide if they were good or not. For starters, I love baked beans as they are. Salsa too, especially with tortilla chips. The combination somewhat is an acquired taste. I didn't get the tanginess of the salsa as it was reduced by the beans and I wasn't sure if that's what I wanted. The soft texture of the beans in turn fought with the crunchiness of the tomatoes. And you don't see a fiery red dish; instead it's almost crimson in colour. But I think I'm liking this clash of personalities. I think I'm starting to grow on the marriage of the mismatched flavours. I shall attempt my version of beans rancheros one fine day. One fine day.

In between the BBB, I managed to steal some of the omelette my other half was savouring. The mushrooms were chopped chunky and generously strewn all over the rolled fried egg. She was very wary of my action so I only managed two spoonfuls. I loved the salad accompanying the omelette. The dressing was sprinkled rather than lovingly poured so the greens were not completely drenched and still brittle. Upon seeing my constant poking of her delish side (I'm talking about the salad) she promised to leave some behind for me, proclaiming that she did not really fancy the dull-looking fresh veggies. 12 minutes after, she cleaned up her plate! The salad was that good; it woke her up and made her break the promise.

It looked plenty but really the portion was meagre (Apple iPhone 3GS)

While exercising my need to eat, I could not help to notice a black board that had these words written on it: our new flavours, salted gula melaka and pengat pisang. I could be wrong about the flavours as it was a fleeting glance but I was certain they were local desserts. Apparently the flavours were from the homemade ice-cream brand called The Last Polka. Its Malaysian but combines French-styled ice cream with Asian flavours so the USP is that now you don't have to imagine no more. We grabbed french toast, nutella (remember the nutty spread?), salted gula melaka and malt + peanut butter from the nice looking freezer. I don't think Nutella was Asian but I never fancied the hazelnut spread even as a kid so I stayed well clear of it. The salted gula melaka was the one that I shared with my other half but it's really just frozen palm sugar. In addition, it was more frozen-yoghurty in texture rather than ice cream. And I thought the french toast flavour tasted like high grade cooking oil. On its website, I saw a few more 'Asian' flavours like strawberry cream cheese and get this, Guinness. Very Asian indeed. I like the graphics on the cup and the freezer though.

From the freezer... (Apple iPhone 3GS)

...to the table (Apple iPhone 3GS)

I did not get to nick my nephew's wrap because he was seated two seats away from me but he said it was alright. One could specify the egg that came with the wrap, either scrambled or poached. He went for the latter. I don't like the yellow bit (you may call it yolk), especially when it's soft so next time when I do the Huevos Rancheros wrap it shall be scrambled eggs.

The eateries in Jaya One are there to whet the appetites of the office workers, PJLA ticket holders and students from the nearby colleges. For the portion that The Bee serves up, I think it's a bit pricey. My BBB was RM25. The omelette was RM24. The wrap and the pancake, RM17 apiece. If you live to eat and have no qualms about spending, then go. I don't live to eat but don't mind to be in the company of the creative folks who frequent Jaya One so I might revisit!

A mellow encounter...

The PH household bumped into an old mate today while walking back to our car. My other half did not remember instantly despite him wearing his trademark white shirt until I pointed out to her vital signs that it was really him. My elder son could only recall vaguely but admitted that the shirt was familiar. I don't blame my son for that because at the time we were close acquaintances he was only about three or four. He should be surprised if I told him that he was very close to this friend of ours, always playing piggyback, hunching on his shoulders, even throwing up all over him every now and then. When that happened, I would just offer to clean his clothes and nothing else. But he would not protest as he's not one to let innocent incidents affect our relationship.

At times, he would drive us to and fro Johor Bahru but never complained about the long haul trip and heavy load. Once in a while, our relatives moved stuff and I volunteered him without even checking if he minded. Come to think of it, it was very unprofessional of me but I could not help it as I knew he could do the job without much hassle. The bulky items at Ikea, especially from As Is were no problem to him. I always wonder if he ever thought us taking advantage of his kindness and reliability.

He has not changed one bit. Still wearing white, in good shape as always and sporting the same haircut—close crop, flat top. My sister-in-law now remembered and so did her nephew. I snapped a photo before we bade goodbye.

Oh, he's a true mate and such a gentleman. In many ways, he's family. This encounter makes our hearts grow fonder of him.

PH household trusted ex-companion, Volvo V70 plate no. WGL3818 (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Why I thought Malaysia had won

He got to wear his kit but he had orders to cheer for both sides (Apple iPhone 3GS)

You've heard the news and know the scoreline, it's Chelsea 1, Malaysia XI 0. But I have these reasons why I thought we were the real victors:

i) Our defence stood up to their much bigger opponents and was where they were supposed to be and at the right time;

ii) Our goalkeeper made some saves that even we didn't anticipate him to;

iii) Our onslaughts were no child play and really got Chelsea's keeper and defenders worried;

iv) Our determination was the stubborn type although one or two assaults were totally uncalled for;

v) Our passes were both accurate and not sharp in some instances but I had seen worse;

vi) Our sub goalkeeper had no way of avoiding the ball that hit him in the back and then trickled crossed the line. Wait a minute; it did not cross the line. It was the linesman who was nervous;

vii) In the final 10 minutes or so, our attack showed gusto, genuine effort and that fighting spirit in trying to equalize the dubious goal; and

viii) Our boys displayed the kind of skills that convince me they can actually play. For me, being better at the game is only the way to go for them.

Atmosphere of an international big game was felt... (Apple iPhone 3GS)

But we managed to hold on to our values... (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Although this we should not uphold... (Apple iPhone 3GS)

En route to the stadium (Apple iPhone 3GS)

The low-key opening ceremony (Apple iPhone 3GS)

And for the big team that it is, Chelsea as a whole was crap. And they can thank the linesman for saving them the embarrassment.

Game on (Apple iPhone 3GS)

But if there was one thing that marred the match, it was the persistent booing on Yossi Benayoun, the Jewish Chelsea winger. I wished the spectators were more mature.

What mattered to me most than this ugly episode and Malaysia 'winning' was that my elder son thoroughly enjoyed the outing. And enjoy he did.

It was hot and humid (Apple iPhone 3GS)

This guy was right in front of us and he couldn't stop blowing his wanna-be vuvuzela but I dare not stop him (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Blame the camera but this was Chelsea paying homage after the final whistle (Apple iPhone 3GS)

No explanation, no announcement why the gate was closed but not a single complaint or noise was made (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Train was packed to the brim (Apple iPhone 3GS)

From VA with love

Going somewhere? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Harry, Rebecca and little Zakaria pulled into town last month. Singapore was made their temporary base as Rebecca had some business to attend to in that fine city. So they would shuttle back and forth to Johor Bahru where Harry's sisters live. They also took a brief respite in Bintan Island, which was only less than an hour's boat ride from the shopping haven.

Harry is my uncle who has been living in the States for as long as I can remember. His home now is in Virginia although at one point he used to live in Washington D.C. Trips to Malaysia are far and few in between and needless to say, everyone looked forward to it when he said he was coming down. Apart from the real joy of reunion, some of us could not wait to see Zak in the flesh who has proven himself to be the chubbiest (with red cheeks to boot...) little boy in the family. And others expected souvenirs and things that they had asked Harry to buy in the States.

Having been away from the country for quite some time, it's only natural that he developed cravings for food that was not easily available or accessible to him. Few weeks prior to the trip, my sister Emi got in touch with everyone of us, asking about which seafood restaurant would we vote for. I nominated for any joint in Port Klang. I thought it romantic and more meaningful, you know; to drive the distance, have food right next to where they were sourced from and under the moonlit sky.

It turned out that Harry's cravings were not as great as mine. Since he'd volunteered to pay the bill, we settled for South Sea, an established eatery off the old Subang Airport road. The restaurant was adjacent to the tarmac so we saw at least one plane taking off. Somewhere during the course of dinner, the retractrable roof of the restaurant opened to a clear, star-studded sky. This is South Sea's version of romantic. Not bad actually.

The calm before the storm (Apple iPhone 3GS)

16 adults, eight kids, that's how big the dinner party was or have I miscounted? We filled two big round tables, one with kids and another with grown-ups. Harry with the help of some local guys (his brother, mine and Emi's husband, I think) picked the dishes. Dinner was served in the forms of chilli crabs, buttered prawns, fried lalas, stir-fried veggies, salted egg crabs, sharks fin soup and many more. I can't remember them all but recall vividly seeing content faces and hands gently patting around the midriff. Whatever the elders had, the kids had them too. There was no double standard. Everyone was treated equally. There was so much food that we packed some home.

A poignant moment this but amidst the din I overhead Harry muttering "it's good to see you Abang Man..." to him. My father always has a soft spot for him.

My other half presented the visiting family with framed pictures of kampung houses and a nice, cute t-shirt for Zak that read Anak Seni. She got all these from Galeri PETRONAS and I really hope it will fit darling Zak. The pictures should make a contrasting wall adornment to Harry and Becky's modern contemporary Hollin Hills home.

2nd shift waitresses having their photos taken before they clock in (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Rekindling lost time (Apple iPhone 3GS)

As for me, I gave a pre-loved book to Harry. This was not an ordinary pre-loved book. Please allow me to elaborate. I'd always pictured Harry as a bookworm what's with his horn-rimmed glasses and wavy hair while younger. And I'm sure there was pocket protector somewhere... what an ultimate fashion statement for nerds. Anyway, there's not an iota of doubt that he's a smart lad and he's got to take that after his late father. The old man maintained a tip-top library at home and basically lived and breathed books. Knowing what his father's favourite pastime was, Harry sent him a book, many books actually, from Stateside.

Uncle Lokman, that's how I addressed Harry's late father, customarily would scribble a few words on the first few leafs, either to summarize his thoughts about what he's read or to commemorate an event relating to the book or simply to credit the person who gave the book to him. By a twist of fate, I had inherited a few books from his collection and in one of them, saw a note which I thought was very personal and must be treasured by the persons named in it. And that's why I decided that Harry and Becky should be the rightful keeper.

My father in the middle (Apple iPhone 3GS)

After the gastronomic sit-down, we adjourned to my brother's place in Ara Damansara. He's migrated to Australia so we made ourselves at home. Meanwhile, my elder brother suggested that we should have some durians for dessert. Harry proclaimed durians to be expensive in the U.S., not fresh and hard to find. Not surpising that. And he added that he already had some in Johor Bahru but wouldn't mind another round. When my elder brother returned, he's actually bought enough fruits for the entire neighbourhood. On top of the durians, there were melons, mangosteens, dukongs and jambu airs as well. We sat down and stuff ourselves again although dinner was just merely an hour ago. And don't you for a second think that Rebecca made herself scarce because she did stick around and braved the offensive smell although I can't say whether or not she reached out for the kucing tidur.

Here's documentary evidence that Rebecca stayed at the table (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Next up was the photography session and we did the photos by family, by gender and by relationship. The unavoidable FB pose i.e. eyes on camera while head angled at 45 degrees was the rage. Shot after shot. Choreograph after choreograph. The Harrys just obliged.

How did the waitresses end up here? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

And the cooks too? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

For my father, Harry bought him a collection of DVD about animals; he knows what my father likes. In between our catch-up chats and watching what leopards do for a living, we managed to Skype with my brother in Melbourne but the latter soon pixelated and spoke unintelligibly, so much so that conversing became a bane. With his forced approval, we terminated the transmission. My other half received glossy magazines but Rebecca politely said no when she asked about the costs.

It's good to catch up with Harry and Becky after all these years. And pinching Zak on the cheeks.

My brother and family (Apple iPhone 3GS)

My sister and family (Apple iPhone 3GS)

My sister and family (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Our boys were away in JB (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Emmm, that's a bit awkward but till next time (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Chelsea...lagi best!

Chelsea trained at Bukit Jalil National Stadium yesterday and three of us from PH were there to witness. For the record, my team is Tottenham and my closest enemy technically-speaking would be Arse-nal, both being North London clubs. That's technically-speaking but universally-speaking, I'm a Man U hater. In fact, PH household are certified anything-but-Man U supporters.

One signature pose before we hit the road (Apple iPhone 3GS)

My elder son is a Chelsea fan so there was no question about whether we should go or not. And he really behaved as if this was his first time. Few nights before he asked me which kit to wear. In the morning of the d-day, he reminded me to be home early. Just as he left class, he rang to ask my whereabouts. But I guess it's always thrilling when you are meeting your idol. Frankly, I won't know how I would react if Spurs were to stop by Malaysia. Actually, I don't know if that will even happen in the first place!

It's only 5.40 pm. Most people were still on the way (Apple iPhone 3GS)

But his actions I felt justified because this time around it was under different circumstances altogether. Being a fan is one thing but a training session could be an intimate affair, a special moment between the team and the supporters. In addition, it must have dawned on to him that doing a Chelsea game is now a once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity. We are living in Kota Damansara, not Ealing anymore.

Gather round lads, first we will skip and then do the hula hoop (Apple iPhone 3GS)

At the stadium, we waited at least a couple of hours before the players came out onto the pitch. And when they did, the whole place erupted into raptures or whatever noise level that a quarter-filled arena could muster. Save for Luis, Ramires and Essien, I think most of the squad members turun padang, entertaining the crowd with their warm-ups and intra matches. Drogba scored at least twice during these matches and the crowd cheered. Torres did not score as many but the crowd cheered him louder. Cech did not wear his headgear and boy he looked different. Ivanovic's posterior appeared mightier than on TV. Terry was one heck of a beefcake. Lamps was another heck of a beefcake. Cole did not get booed as usual which I'm sure he enjoyed. Who would miss Anelka? Kalou trained as a ball-stopper. Malouda I cound not see, he must have changed his hairstyle again. Alex ran around the field as he was still in therapy. Like I said, it was a full squad.

Where's the ball? (Apple iPhone 3GS)

Chelsea fans are united. I spotted fake jerseys, third colours, retro jerseys, away kits, washed out blues, home jerseys, Emirates-era jerseys, blue-coloured wigs, non-sanctioned scarfs, jester-styled hats, creaseless Torres posters, Malaysia Blues Army (sic) banner, Malaysia Blues Army Supporters banner (sic, I don't get this), one lone Arse-nal supporter (how dare you?), more fake jerseys, Malaysian yellow jerseys, Helmie, Sarah and Bazil. But these don't matter as they were there for one thing and one thing only - that is to watch their favourite team train.

Watch this space for more...

Blame the camera (Apple iPhone 3GS)