Archive for the ‘eating out’ Category

You’d never believe it looking at me these days, but I was once a temporary citizen of the land of the beautifully primped, posied and fashioned.

Hair styled, face primed, I stomped around in tendonitis-inducing heels and attended soirees. (To be fair, they were more often than not soirees that I’d helped to organise, complete with carting boxes of samples up and down stairs and stuffing gift bags in said heels).

Oh, and I lunched at Toko.

Not tokonoma, mind you, for it wasn’t around then, but a sister-restaurante no less, and the promise of takeaway from it made the chalkboard stains on my far-too-expensive outfit all the less worrisome.

…continue reading tokonoma

I have learnt many things in this short little life of mine, but none so important as this:

Never, ever, make a man go shopping on an empty stomach.

It is simple rule, but one that is oh-so-easily-forgotten when a girl is faced with the excitement that is warehouse sales and the ability to purchase inexplicable quantities of oil and chocolate.

It is a good thing, then, that men-who-submit-themselves-to-semi-necessary-shopping are also rather good at locating the nearest place to grab a bite afterwards.

…continue reading bite at the providores market

I’d originally wanted to head to Azuma. There were boxes at Azuma – two whole boxes of dessert for the princlely sum of $20. But I was already borderline full, and the short walk from Darling Harbour to George Street hadn’t aided my digestion as much as I’d hoped.

A pause. A collecting of thoughts. And then a small grin. “We could” I pondered out aloud “go to the Swissotel…”

My mind had briefly crossed to the Grace Hotel, but I was parked closer to Town Hall and had no idea I’d end up wandering the streets and staring at birdcages til the early hours of the morning.

…continue reading sugar hit: swissotel

One of the things I love about being a foodblogger is getting suggestions on where to eat (and what to cook) from friends, family & readers. Unfortunately, with the rest of my life whirling around me at a rapid pace, it’s not often that I get around to everything I want to try. So I was amused and delighted in equal parts when my mother came bounding down the stairs, one weekday evening, to say that the W’s had asked if we would all like to go to a crayfish party at Ikea on the 20th of August, and that I should probably bring my camera along.
…continue reading crayfish festival at ikea

I am not the kind of girl that many would call “polished”. I am trying though – donning the occasional dress, wearing neutral coloured pumps, pinning my hair up and sweeping my lashes with mascara. And, I must admit, it’s kinda fun. Not the same kind of fun one can have when decked out in shorts, high tops and a t-shirt, with hair bundled into what-was-once-a-ponytail, but fun nonetheless.

My best friend Miss Shiny, on the other hand, is far more polished than I’ll ever be. Curls neatly in place. Patterned stockings set off against a 1950′s style skirt that nips in at the waist and finishes with a bow. Cropped coats and a dab of lipstick. I can’t wear lipstick even when I try.

…continue reading high tea at the loft