Saturday, December 17, 2011

SMRT Train disruptions

I know this is rather frivolous, considering the huge inconveniences, waste of productive hours, and anguish for commuters over the past couple of days, with the North South SMRT line disruptions.

So someone smashed the window in a MRT train cabin to get ventilation. And SMRT responded in a most distasteful manner. (The Online Citizen)

That aside: aren't these posters now circulating on the Internet so creative, and some quite funny?

On a personal note, I am very embarrassed; what would tourist think of Singapore after seeing this mess?








Friday, December 16, 2011

Plants and bringing a touch of green into your home or office

Below is the full article that I wrote for a newsletter. It is in a question-and-answer style; interview by Isnis:

Horticulture and bringing a touch of green into your home or office

1. So what got you first started into gardening?

It started when I was in primary school and found the lessons on germinating green beans, balsam seed pods dispersing seeds through splitting, and vegetative propagation of African violets extremely fascinating.

My forays into gardening are mostly restricted to containers. You’d be amazed at how many different species and varieties one can raise in containers and pots of soil. Unlike gardeners with plenty of space to design a landscape of plants with varying heights and colours, I grow tropical plants as specimens to be admired and appreciated on their own: unique botanical outcomes of evolution and natural selection over millennia. This is why I am partial towards ferns, a plant with an extremely long history.

2. What was your first gardening ‘experiment’ and how did that turn out?

I had bought a packet of petunia seeds from a plant nursery. Petunias are a genus of South American plants that have been extensively hybridised into showy varieties. If you hadn’t grown them before, you will know that the seeds are very tiny and needs light to germinate. The tiny seedlings emerged eventually, and they bloomed after 10 weeks. I recall vividly the first trumpet-shaped bloom unfurled at dusk, and had a slight scent


Very tiny petunia seeds and seedlings.

That experience of raising a flowering plant to maturity from a very tiny seed was immensely satisfying. It was pleasing to watch new furry leaves and buds forming over time.

3. What is your greatest ever ‘success’ whilst gardening?

It’s hard to answer this question. All my plants are successes, in a way. Whether they survive or not, there's always something to learn.

4. What can be said to be the most embarrassing thing that had ever happen to you while gardening?

Absolutely nothing, so I really don’t know how to answer this.

5. Tell us more about your ‘gardens’ at home?

These are all restricted to containers and are mostly leafy plants, such as Bird’s Nest Fern, Rabbit’s Foot Fern, Money plant, Zamioculcas, Dracaena and a curry plant. They are easy to maintain, and adds a soothing splash of green. Their differing growth habits, leaf shapes and shades of green provide pleasing contrasts. Beyond aesthetics, the curry plant is useful for cooking; whenever I need it, I can just pluck off a sprig or two to add an aromatic lift to a pot of curry.

Zamioculcas originated from East Africa. An easy plant to grow, it holds auspicious meanings for the Chinese (金钱树). Its ingot-shaped leaves symbolises wealth. This is one plant that rewards that extra bit of care with glossy leaves and vigorous growth. Its fleshy stems and underground tubers mean that it can do without watering for some time without dying. As long as the pot is allowed to drain freely, overwatering is also unlikely to kill it. Tolerates shade.

Rabbit’s Foot Fern is so named because mature specimens produce furry rhizomes that protrude from the soil, and resembles rabbits’ feet. Despite its delicate appearance, this is a tough plant that tolerates shade.

Money plant is extremely easy to grow. A vigorous plant, it has nice splashes of variegation on its leaves. Its long stems make it ideal as a hanging plant. If allowed to grow up a wooden stake, the leaves becomes extremely large. Easily one of the easiest plants to grow. Its vigor will depend on light availability. Its leaves tend to become greener in low light conditions.

The only plant that I grow for its flowers is the Hedychium coronarium (White Orchid Ginger). So named for its orchid-like white blooms, the scent is amazing, especially in the evenings. It never gets afflicted by insect pests and regularly sends up a spike of blooms which lasts several weeks, with deadheading. Ants love to crawl into the blooms to retrieve nectar.

White Orchid Ginger originated in the Himalayans regions. The flower scent is indescribably sweet, with hints of citrus.

6. How did your friends and colleagues react when they find out you have a green thumb?

Most of the time, people are surprised because there simply aren’t many (relatively) young people in Singapore who appreciates plants the way I do. Really, it isn't something just meant for retirees and housewives.

7. Whilst overseas or locally, what in your view is the best example of a lush green sprawling garden?

I am extremely impressed by the Kew Gardens in London, in particular, the tropical collection dating from Victorian times. I consider the Gardens a must-visit for any trip to London. Specimens are labelled, well taken care of and flourish in the greenhouse.

The greenhouse in Kew Gardens, London containing tropical plants collected from all over the world during the heyday of the British Empire. Many of the plants (especially the Chilean Wine Palm) are so advanced in age that they threaten to break through the roof of the one-story glasshouse.

The Victorian period was a golden era of plant collecting. Intrepid botanical adventurers travelled the world to collect exotic specimens of trees, orchids, medicinal plants, ferns and palms, often at great personal risk. Many new species, including valuable cash crops were discovered and studied. An example would be the rubber tree, which was first grown outside South America from seed, in the steamy greenhouses of Kew. Carefully nurtured seedlings were sent to Sri Lanka and Singapore in 1876. Once they were established, rubber plantations spread throughout Malaya. Looking back at our history, I would say that, Malaya owed its prosperity in part to this. Rubber was once a significant backbone of the economy during the 19th century and early 20th century. Therefore, the Gardens is very much a history museum, but with artefacts that are still growing, flowering and fruiting year after year.

70,000 rubber seeds were transported to Kew in 1875 from Brazil. Seedlings were then sent to various places in the British empire, where latex and rubber production played an important role in the economy then.

Locally, I think the Singapore Zoo has some good examples of gardens that complement the animal exhibits very well. The Fragile Rainforest aviary has, in my opinion, a good variety of tropical plants that are skilfully combine to create an illusion of a rainforest, with distinct undergrowth and canopy vegetation.

Singapore Zoo’s Fragile Forest canopy serves as a conducive habitat for Flying Foxes.

Another well-designed display is the Cold Greenhouse at the Singapore Botanic Gardens. The temperature is kept at around 15 degrees, and the humid environment simulates the growing conditions of high-altitude plants in Southeast Asia. Tree ferns, insectivorous pitcher plants and cool-growing orchids thrive in this environment.

The cool greenhouse in the Singapore Botanic Gardens maintains a temperature of about 15 degrees Celsius. Periodic misting of water simulates the high humidity and moistness of high-altitude cloud forests.


Epiphytic orchids grow on moist tree branches alongside ferns in the greenhouse.

Insectivorous pitcher plant winds its pitcher around other plants. Insects fall into the slipper edges and walls of the pitcher, to be digested by enzymes which are then absorbed by the plant.

8. Tell us what gardening does for your mental wellbeing!

When we are close to nature, enjoying its many colours, movements, shapes, textures and scents, the attention we pay is involuntary, and I feel, very rejuvenating in the midst of our busy lives. It allows for the resting of voluntary attention – the kind that tires one out, but needed for tasks such as writing reports, planning and meetings. It may very well be imagined by me, but it works for me – gazing at greenery and observing new leaf shoots emerging from my plant is restorative for me. It gives me that bit more energy to face the challenges that life throws up.

And we all know that green relaxes the eyes, particularly if you gaze at a majestic swathe of tall, green trees at a distance. The collection of small green plants in the office are nowhere as grand as our tropical wayside trees. But there is still something deeply stirring in observing the plants, as you water them. Drops of water that slides smoothly down a leaf’s arch down into the root area, speaks of the grand design in these living things. The turning of a leaf stalk towards the light source reminds me of how all food, and therefore, animal life, ultimately comes from plants. That’s pretty mind-blowing, when one ponders about it.


9. Any parting shots on gardening.......

It’s easy to grow plants in the office or at home. Many people think that it takes too much trouble, and that they do not have the ‘green fingers’ to keep plants alive. That I completely understand. The chief causes of plant murders are underwatering and overwatering. A solution would be a plant terrarium. Often, if I want to give a plant away, I would plant it in a terrarium, which would greatly increase the plant’s chances of survival if the eventual owner is likely to forget to water, or water too much.

It’s essentially a self-contained system, within a glass container. Water released into the air through evaporation, plant transpiration and photosynthesis is recycled. Therefore, a glass terrarium can go without watering for many months. Since no watering is required, death through dehydration (underwatering) or root rot (overwatering) is much less likely.

IKEA offers many containers suitable for plant terrariums. A red-veined Fittonia is planted in the taller bottle, and a variegated Euonymus fits snugly in the cookie jar.

This is a good starting point for apprehensive first-timers. To bring plants closer to our work and living environments breaks the disconnect we urbanites have with nature. There is a calming comfort in getting close to nature and, if only temporarily, recognize that despite the frenetic pace of modern life, nature carries on in its own steady pace.

Lovin' Coriander and its use in Thai cooking

I had a craving for some Thai food and the aromatic coriander, so I decided, I will re-post an article I wrote previously for The Campus Observer. Owing to some server issues, the page is no longer available.
___________________

Coriander for the uninitiated
6 October 2006

Coriander is one herb that tends to evoke polemical reactions. Either you love it, or you hate it.

Once, during dinner at a hawker centre, my friend ordered oyster omelette (or luak), and asked the stallholder to leave out the coriander sprigs.

I was surprised, to say the least. I love this herb, with its piquant aroma that does not overpower and serves as the perfect companion to numerous local dishes.

My pal had might as well ordered the omelette without the oysters. The coriander was the perfect companion to the rich and briny flavours of the oysters and egg but for my friend, the dish was good without “the garnish,” which he said tasted bitter.

Is coriander nothing more than a bitter-tasting garnish?

Its very history belies this.

Originating in the Mediterranean, coriander has been said to be one of the oldest spices used by mankind. Believed to have been cultivated for over 5,000 years, coriander fruits have been found in Egyptian tombs. Sanskrit texts and the Bible make references to it as well. In biblical times, the Hebrews used coriander as the bitter herb in the Passover meal.

A line in the Old Testament’s Exodus also likens “manna” to the whiteness of coriander seed - “And the house of Israel called the name there of Manna: and it was like coriander seed, white”. It was the Romans that helped spread this wonderful plant. Julius Caeser’s soldiers carried coriander seeds with them, as a meat preserver and flavouring.

Meanwhile, Medieval Europeans used the spice to “mask” rotten flavours in presumably less-than-fresh meats.

You may wonder now if I am getting confused. Is coriander an herb or a spice? It is both. Coriander as a spice refers to its dried seeds, which are crushed and imparts dishes such as satay with an aromatic citrus-like flavour.

While also used in Latin America, the Caribbean, India and China, it is probably in Southeast Asia that this plant is most appreciated.

In many of the rempahs of the Malay Archipelago, coriander seed forms an integral part of the spice mixture, traditionally pounded into a paste with a mortar and pestle. The leaves are served as an accompaniment to many Indo-Chinese dishes, while the roots are much loved by the Thais.

Ugly as it may seem, the root is used to spectacular effect in Thai cuisine. Once cleaned thoroughly, the root is used in green curry pastes, soups, marinades, stir-fries and dips.
It is amazing how the root of the same plant can impart such a different taste and aroma from the leaves and seeds. A whiff of it transports you immediately to Thailand, to its street-side stalls hawking barbecued chicken (gai yang), green curry and steaming hot rice noodle soups served with fresh coriander and spring onion sprigs.

However, to the uninitiated, the coriander can be one very misunderstood herb. I learnt this at a gathering where I had cooked gai yang, a dish consisting of chicken pieces marinated in a combination of pungent fish sauce, garlic and coriander root. During the gathering, someone, in an attempt to identify the herb in the dish, asked if I had used Chinese Angelica root
(dang gui).

I was surprised. However, on hindsight, the mystery surrounding the coriander plant is understandable. After all, while many of the much-loved dishes of Southeast Asia would lose its character without this little plant, coriander has never been the lead actor in a dish. Rather, it complements, along with the other actors of garlic, chillies, ginger, spring onions, to name but a few.
_________

Recipe for Steven’s variation of Thai-style grilled chicken (gai yang)

Ingredients:
  • 500 grams chicken thighs
  • 6 Coriander plants
  • 6 garlic cloves
  • 2cm of ginger
  • 1 chilli padi
  • 6 limes
  • Thai fish sauce
  • Sugar
  • 3 tablespoons of vegetable oil
  • 1 Lemongrass
Finely chop 5 coriander roots, along with the stem base, for every 500grams of chicken. You can use more if you wish.

Then finely chop 6 cloves of garlic, 2cm of ginger and 1 chilli. Combine with approximately 5 tablespoons of Thai fish sauce, adjusting the amount to taste. Also, add sugar according to
taste.

Add oil to the marinade as a lubricant during the grilling process.

Next, add the juice of 6 limes to the marinade. Adjust the amount according
to taste.

At this point, add a stalk of roughly chopped lemongrass to the marinade, but this optional.

Baste chicken in the marinade and leave it in the refrigerator for a few hours.

Grill the marinated chicken at 250 degrees Celsius in a convection oven or over an open charcoal grill.

Cook evenly on all sides and then baste the chicken pieces with the leftover marinade liquid.

Serve with sweet Thai chilli sauce and fresh sprigs of coriander.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A wave of very real feeling, this time round


With the elections campaigning drawing to a close, I thought I would write about some of my candid feelings about what I saw and experienced over the past few days.

I really didn't expect that the government could seem contrite, apologetic and remorseful. (Ah, I just typed, almost by reflex, ‘government’, instead of PAP! But I couldn’t help it; how often does one see them, Men In White, as vulnerable election candidates embattled in an election?) I thought it was such a nice ironic contrast to the rather high-handed tone, which has by now, been iconised by the famous utterance from our Minister Mentor – “Aljunied voters will have 5 years to repent [if they vote for the opposition, successfully]”.

There was the apology from Lee Hsien Loong, and then the yielding admissions from other PAP candidates, that the “emotional connection” with the people is important, the pledging to focus on “heartware”, and the need to “strike a better balance between efficiency and heart”. And the very sincerely articulated video by Mr. George Yeo, who by the way, is probably the most likeable Minister, in my opinion. It appears that there was a sudden change of tack, a realisation that resulted in a change of persuasive appeals and campaign messages.

My feel is that some people in PAP have suddenly realised the crux of the issue, but perhaps, a little too late, late into the campaign. The groundswell of sentiment, unbridled anger, and resentment all expressed in a very visible manner on the Internet and social media is impossible to ignore. The writer, Catherine Lim had astutely articulated this issue in the 1994 Straits Times article, “The PAP and the people - A Great Affective Divide”. Too often, rational arguments, statistics and reasoning from our technocrat-politicians have limited traction with the people. It appears to me that many PAP candidates have difficulties straddling, much less comfortably shift between personas of efficient problem-solving technocrats and inspiring, charismatic politicians.

For me, I completely understand the rational reasoning and arguments from the PAP candidates. I appreciate the good life, wealth and development the PAP has brought to us. But people are not all logic, are they? Humans are emotional beings, and I think this is probably the most emotionally-charged GE ever. It’s not just at the rallies. It’s not just in the press and TV. It’s on my Facebook feeds, Twitter, and it feels like everyone is part of the GE conversation. Friends, acquaintances, schoolmates, colleagues, neighbours, army-mates, my tuition kids, relatives…basically my whole digital network of relationships… through their comments, status updates, sharing of links/videos/pictures, were participating in the GE in a very real way. For some, politics would have never popped up in our conversations face-to-face. There was a very real sense of frustration, anger, mocking and disgust being expressed. This is perhaps a situation unique to GE2011, because of the many mis-steps, faux pas and well, frankly, disunited PAP front. It provided much fuel to the very interesting conversation, which was gaining momentum by the hour.

Many of us no longer felt alone, or sticking out awkwardly when we participated in the digital conversation. It felt like we were part of a larger community of many, many genuinely interested and passionate individuals. Sure, there were differences in opinion and standpoints. But no one person dominated the conversation, disagreements were expressed civilly and everyone could truly participate. I mean, how often does that happen in real life conversations and discussions? You find that someone will talk more loudly and longer than the others. Someone’s words will hold more weight because he or she is more senior or older.

This wave of discussion and conversation by so many Singaporeans moves me deeply. I am a little embarrassed to talk about it in such an effusive manner, but oh! what a stirring sense of being part of a larger whole, a network of genuinely impassioned individuals who came together in this conversation, un-orchestrated by no one, by no organization. It sounds a little silly, but the last time I felt something like this was at the National Day Parade. And having served as a full-time soldier and participated in the logistics of the (was it 2003? I can’t remember exactly) NDP, we know how carefully orchestrated and ritualised, the entire proceedings were. I feel a swelling in my heart, when I see so many people coming together in a collective wave of concern and genuine feeling for the future of Singapore. We really aren’t just mindless and self-centered individuals going about our daily business of earning money, spending money, going through the motions of life! We care about our country! And this patriotic emotion is amazing precisely because it wasn’t orchestrated and planned, unlike so many of the things in our lives on this little island that is Singapore! :)

Monday, April 25, 2011

Dry-Fried Brown Rice Mee Siam Bee Hoon

I am sure you'd have noticed that brown rice vermicelli (bee hoon) is now becoming more available on the supermarket shelves. I decided to try cooking it. Brown rice bee hoon has more fibre, but it does not affect the taste and texture of the bee hoon much! In fact, it tastes like normal bee hoon!
Here's how to cook it.

Ingredients
1 pack of brown rice bee hoon, soaked in water to soften it
2 eggs, beaten
3 stalks garlic chives, chopped
Beansprouts
Shrimp/Prawns
Calamansi Limes
Mee Siam Paste (available in all supermarkets)
Assam (Tamarind)
Cooking oil
Sugar and salt to taste

Method
Disclaimer: I am afraid I do not cook with precision; I do not measure ingredients, and timings, and almost always go by feeling. I know this makes the recipe harder to follow; sorry.

Do not soak the bee hoon for too long. We don't want it to absorb too much water; we do want it to absorb the flavours from the seasonings.

The mee siam paste (about 2 or 3 tablespoons?) is heated up in some oil till it is aromatic. The bee hoon is added next, and mixed around in the wok thoroughly. Some tamarind juice is added to add a tang.

Push the bee hoon to one side and scramble up the beaten eggs at the bottom of the wok.

Add the bean sprouts, then shrimp, and lastly, chives.

Add salt and sugar to taste.

Serve with calamansi lime.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Magnitude 9.0 Earthquake in Japan (東北地方太平洋沖地震)

The 11 March Sendai earthquake and tsunami (東北地方太平洋沖地震) wreaked much havoc. If it had taken place further South near to the populous Kanto Plain, the damage and loss of human lives would have been much greater. I feel very sorry for all the damage and loss, and I am aware that the loss of human lives was very much mitigated by excellent warning systems, which enabled people to escape to higher ground before the tsunami's onslaught. About 10 minutes of time bought by the warnings would have enabled many to run to higher ground. But if you were on flat farmland near to the coastline, you may not escape. Perhaps there wasn't any concrete buildings tall enough for you to run up to. I can only imagine the unspeakable terror experienced by the farmers as the tsunami waves came forth.
The picture above shows the tsunami inundating large areas near Sendai.

The rows of vegetable greenhouses were simply overwhelmed by the wall of water, carrying mud, debris and houses. I can only imagine how the farmer, who may not have heard the warning via mobile phone/siren, may have been still tending to his beloved crops that afternoon. Perhaps the earthquake had worried him, if the irrigation for the plants were still functioning.

The farmland would probably not be arable for a long while, with the salt water and debris tainting the good soil. I can only fear the worst for people who did not manage to escape in time. :( Even if they survived in a corner of a sturdy house, the waves would have brought them out to sea again.

There is a coastal town, Minami Sanriku, which was completely inundated by the tsunami waves. There is a certain poignancy when I knew about it. Coastal towns in Japan were seared into my memory through Japanese movies such as "Crying Out Love, in the Centre of the World" (在世界中心呼喚愛). Beautiful places where human lives played out with its necessary joys and pains.
When I heard about the coastal towns in Miyagi-sen being washed away in the tsunami, and the resultant losses, it struck a deep chord in me.

In Minami Sanriku(南三陸町), much of the town was washed away. More than 10,000 of its 17,000 population are now unaccounted for. The hospital remained. Apparently, more than 300 people are trapped there. The hospital was one of the few remaining buildings left.

The Shizugawa High School, that was on higher elevation, was naturally an evacuation spot for residents. They had put a SOS sign on the empty ground in front of the hospital. Given the cold and snow, I can only imagine the hardship survivors had to endure without heating and shelter. They would be wet as well, which would not help keep them warm :(

The hospital was one of the few buildings that remained intact after the tsunami. The Shizugawa High School on the other hand, was further away from the coast, and therefore less affected by the tsunami. The picture below shows the location of both places. The red arrow shows where the hospital is, and the green arrow, Shizugawa High School.
Can you imagine, that it is a lively community, with a high school full of energetic young people. Now, the high school has become an evacuation centre. I hope they have fuel, for it is terribly cold.

The video above shows the Shizugawa High School students having fun in a parade in 2006. I wonder if any of them died :(

It is painful to see all these. So many lives disrupted, so much damage. It does humble us greatly. In the face of Nature and the Greater Power, we are but little ants, albeit ants with modern cars and equipment. Even then, that does not protect us from the effects of a greater force.
We will see many images of mass destruction in Japan's coastal communities. But we must remember that there are people, just like you and me, who are affected. People who feel, who love, who rejoice, who feel pain and sadness. The Japanese government will help them, without a doubt. But let us remember the people, the individuals, who may have lost friends, relatives, or family members, in our prayers. The picture above shows a family leaving Minani Sanriku. :(

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Love Cuts

I had watched Love Cuts at Ang Mo Kio Hub, and it certainly was a film that struck more than a few chords. There were numerous similarities and though the movie did not go into details, it brought back detailed memories of my late mother's battle with cancer.

Battle does seem a misnomer, for it implies a possibility of a triumph, or at least, a truce. That does not exist for cancers at Stage 5, which would have metastasised, or spread to other organs or throughout the body. There was a brief reference made in the film about metastasis. But of course, I knew the ending; Zoe Tay would die, for how else did so many of my colleagues end up in tears after watching it?

I could understand. The film was moving, and it was easy to empathise with the character, whether you were a mother, a son, a husband or simply, a friend of the female protagonist. It was tragic, beyond a doubt, and sad.

The sadness that I felt was largely because I re-experienced the emotions that I went through when my mother was dying of Stage 5 stomach cancer. The diagnosis hit Zoe's character hard, but that was too easy for her. I remember how we could not pinpoint the cancer source. The doctors had guessed at one point, that it was ovarian cancer, and that was really a guess.

My mother was a seamstress too. She mediated between me and the father. She cared about the family, like most mothers would. Like Zoe's character, she deteriorated very quickly. Such is the speed of cancer metastasis and cell formation. And there was a scene where she sat on the toilet bowl. I recall she had to do that because of the morphine she had to take, which slowed down bowel movements. All the Senna, and Lactulose could not help. At that time, I did not understand that such palliative care was destined for an inevitable end. I busied myself trying to help where I can.

And there was that line, which Zoe uttered to the model. That her life was not merely hers. And how that resonated.