Happy birthday, Daddy
Took the family out to Old Swiss Inn at the Somerset Olympia for my dad's 50th birthday. Well, my greedy family pillaged the dishes as soon as they hit the table, so we weren't able to get pictures of most of the dishes-check out this blog for pics. Then, we crossed the street to the Peninsula for dessert, my mom's treat this time.
For appetizers, we ended up getting cheese fondue (not my favorite, because the wine overpowered the cheese), but all the entrees we got were delectable-two orders of their signature gnani, or pigs' knuckles, with sauerkraut and potatoes, homemade corned beef, grilled rack of lamb, grilled vegetables, and Zurich geschnetzeltes, or pork tenderloin in a mushroom sauce with roesti potatoes, which are pretty much like hash browns with onions.
The pigs' knuckles were the best. I'm pretty sure I can finish a whole order by myself. The place is actually quite pricey, and the servings are relatively small, when compared to the price. But I guess that's to be expected, since they're open twenty-four hours.
Yeah, yeah, my mom looks young. The guard who checked our bags at the Olympia entrance was only the nth person to mistake my mom as our sibling.
Brother 2 (he asked me to use his name in my blog) Fritz and Brother 1 (who actually doesn't like using his real name and pictures)
It's Fritz and I who look alike. Just not in this picture...for some reason.
He ordered a strawberry milkshake when we relocated to the Pen for dessert.
I chose every dessert on the cake trolley that featured chocolate. The worst was that truffle cake at top left; it was too dry. My favorite was the almond rocher at top right, but my dad hated that one. His favorite was the hazelnut thingie at bottom left. Bottom right is moist chocolate cake, which was yummy too.
I took the liberty of ordering all those cakes while my mom was in the restroom, because I'd told everyone else that I could pay for half if the bill came out too steep for my mom. But it turned out within her budget anyway, so, whee.
* * *
Now, I have no desire to watch Sex and the City in theaters here, since Asia is getting a hacked off version that trims the rating down to PG-13. @_@ WTF?
Pirated DVDs FTW.
And I'm not the only one who thinks Carrie Bradshaw is an astonishingly bad writer. Thank you. That's perhaps the crux of why I hated SATC. We were supposed to believe that she made enough of a fortune to afford a huge Manhattan apartment and Jimmy Choos on her crappy columns?
Yeah, but I watched the show anyway, because everyone else but Carrie was interesting.
* * *
I just had my very first RDJ dream last night. I don't usually like recounting dreams, but I thought I'd make an exception this time because it's RDJ. Of course.
The earliest point that I can remember him being in my dream is that he was our singing coach, and we were back at the concert hall in Lesbo School, singing our school songs. Of course, I would attempt to sing loudest and clearest, just to impress the hot singing coach.
Next scene I remember was that I was using the toilet near the hall, and it was a pretty big space with two cubicles. I know that when I went in, I was alone. I turned around once, and when I checked the cubicles again, all of a sudden, one was marked male, and the other, female. Somehow, I'm compelled anyway to pull the door on the one that was marked for the male, and it was locked. I muttered an apology and can sense that someone was dressing up in there. And then, I think, "What if it's RDJ?"
Because my mind in my dream state willed it so, naturally, it was RDJ who stepped out, in Tony Stark mode with the beard. He seemed to recognize me, and I was too stunned to say something to him, and too embarrassed to say something dumb like, "OMG, I'm a fan, you're so awesome!" But he was talking anyway, and I just forgot what he said in the dream.
And then suddenly, we were in a bookstore, and I spotted Brother 1, whom I ask to bring me a Sharpie. The bookstore resembled my room too, so I knew that I could grab the still-unopened May 2008 GQ. I tore it open so I could ask him to sign it. People were starting to crowd around us, because, hell, it's RDJ.
Brother 1 just handed me my CD pen, because it's conveniently on one of the tables in my room (but we're still in the bookstore, remember?). I ask RDJ to sign the GQ, and he obliges, signing in the center-right. His signature was loopy, kind of resembling Laura Pausini's. I'm pretty sure more stuff happened afterwards, but I just forgot.
* * *
Now, DTLC is airing Nigella Bites before Nigella Express. WOW. She was really skinny back then-her face looked a lot narrower, and she wore so little make-up that it made her look natural and very young. And she still had her RP accent. Sigh.
I just realized that I have every Nigella series that DTLC has aired.
I had eaten so much last night that I'm only starting to feel hungry now, even though I'd been awake since two hours ago. It's every man for himself for breakfast now. I'm going for coffee and peanut butter and jelly. Again.
Meeting Therese for her Mac tutorials after lunch. I hope I can contribute something new that she hasn't picked up yet, hee hee.
ETA: Made a new banner on my user info. I didn't like it enough to put it up as my header.
Want: Money. More.
Adore: Beer
Love: Family, when they're behaving
Hate: That the new Jason Mraz album isn't in stores yet
For appetizers, we ended up getting cheese fondue (not my favorite, because the wine overpowered the cheese), but all the entrees we got were delectable-two orders of their signature gnani, or pigs' knuckles, with sauerkraut and potatoes, homemade corned beef, grilled rack of lamb, grilled vegetables, and Zurich geschnetzeltes, or pork tenderloin in a mushroom sauce with roesti potatoes, which are pretty much like hash browns with onions.
The pigs' knuckles were the best. I'm pretty sure I can finish a whole order by myself. The place is actually quite pricey, and the servings are relatively small, when compared to the price. But I guess that's to be expected, since they're open twenty-four hours.
Yeah, yeah, my mom looks young. The guard who checked our bags at the Olympia entrance was only the nth person to mistake my mom as our sibling.
Brother 2 (he asked me to use his name in my blog) Fritz and Brother 1 (who actually doesn't like using his real name and pictures)
It's Fritz and I who look alike. Just not in this picture...for some reason.
He ordered a strawberry milkshake when we relocated to the Pen for dessert.
I chose every dessert on the cake trolley that featured chocolate. The worst was that truffle cake at top left; it was too dry. My favorite was the almond rocher at top right, but my dad hated that one. His favorite was the hazelnut thingie at bottom left. Bottom right is moist chocolate cake, which was yummy too.
I took the liberty of ordering all those cakes while my mom was in the restroom, because I'd told everyone else that I could pay for half if the bill came out too steep for my mom. But it turned out within her budget anyway, so, whee.
* * *
Now, I have no desire to watch Sex and the City in theaters here, since Asia is getting a hacked off version that trims the rating down to PG-13. @_@ WTF?
Pirated DVDs FTW.
And I'm not the only one who thinks Carrie Bradshaw is an astonishingly bad writer. Thank you. That's perhaps the crux of why I hated SATC. We were supposed to believe that she made enough of a fortune to afford a huge Manhattan apartment and Jimmy Choos on her crappy columns?
Yeah, but I watched the show anyway, because everyone else but Carrie was interesting.
* * *
I just had my very first RDJ dream last night. I don't usually like recounting dreams, but I thought I'd make an exception this time because it's RDJ. Of course.
The earliest point that I can remember him being in my dream is that he was our singing coach, and we were back at the concert hall in Lesbo School, singing our school songs. Of course, I would attempt to sing loudest and clearest, just to impress the hot singing coach.
Next scene I remember was that I was using the toilet near the hall, and it was a pretty big space with two cubicles. I know that when I went in, I was alone. I turned around once, and when I checked the cubicles again, all of a sudden, one was marked male, and the other, female. Somehow, I'm compelled anyway to pull the door on the one that was marked for the male, and it was locked. I muttered an apology and can sense that someone was dressing up in there. And then, I think, "What if it's RDJ?"
Because my mind in my dream state willed it so, naturally, it was RDJ who stepped out, in Tony Stark mode with the beard. He seemed to recognize me, and I was too stunned to say something to him, and too embarrassed to say something dumb like, "OMG, I'm a fan, you're so awesome!" But he was talking anyway, and I just forgot what he said in the dream.
And then suddenly, we were in a bookstore, and I spotted Brother 1, whom I ask to bring me a Sharpie. The bookstore resembled my room too, so I knew that I could grab the still-unopened May 2008 GQ. I tore it open so I could ask him to sign it. People were starting to crowd around us, because, hell, it's RDJ.
Brother 1 just handed me my CD pen, because it's conveniently on one of the tables in my room (but we're still in the bookstore, remember?). I ask RDJ to sign the GQ, and he obliges, signing in the center-right. His signature was loopy, kind of resembling Laura Pausini's. I'm pretty sure more stuff happened afterwards, but I just forgot.
* * *
Now, DTLC is airing Nigella Bites before Nigella Express. WOW. She was really skinny back then-her face looked a lot narrower, and she wore so little make-up that it made her look natural and very young. And she still had her RP accent. Sigh.
I just realized that I have every Nigella series that DTLC has aired.
I had eaten so much last night that I'm only starting to feel hungry now, even though I'd been awake since two hours ago. It's every man for himself for breakfast now. I'm going for coffee and peanut butter and jelly. Again.
Meeting Therese for her Mac tutorials after lunch. I hope I can contribute something new that she hasn't picked up yet, hee hee.
ETA: Made a new banner on my user info. I didn't like it enough to put it up as my header.
Want: Money. More.
Adore: Beer
Love: Family, when they're behaving
Hate: That the new Jason Mraz album isn't in stores yet