Brunch Broads

brunch-menu

© 2012 Basheer Tome

 

Theme: The personal rituals shared between lady friends.

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by Laura Gene

I like Sundays. Sundays = brunch in my world and anyone who knows me knows that I love brunch. Fluffy pancakes, crisp Belgian waffles, overstuffed omelets, well-done bacon, tart mimosas heavy on the bubbles. However, so-called “brunch” in China is a crap shoot and is simply …crap. Flavorless congee, chewy squid rings, salt-soaked eggs, starchy noodles heavy on the MSG. For such cuisine, I say maybe for dinner or even Lunch, but not for brunch. Brunch is a Western convention lost on China. I’m all for twists on the classics, but you can’t eliminate the essentials and still call it brunch. Continue reading

Bling

Wrapped presents

Theme: When something changes – good or bad. A twist of events, an unexpected turn of events, a change in the wind, weather, love, whatever.

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by Laura Gene

I was waiting for silks class to begin. I hated waiting, and I also hated being early. But you can’t really have one without the other. That day I decided not to sit and people watch (okay, judge) and decided to hit the walkways of waxed tile in the seven-story mall next door. I trekked to the top, spiraling my way down floor-by-floor not seeing much of interest until I hit the 4th floor. There I found the most random store of kitschy fashion baubles and ironic couture. Continue reading

FriendsMas

This week we are co-authoring posts. Uncharted waters here at GMGM. LG & Kat brave the first attempt…

Bing Crosby croons for snow in the midst of a cinematic post-war tribute surrounded by fairy-costumed children and iconic set design. Copious amounts of powdered flakes appear, to sentimental climax, defying local movie meteorologists to the delight of cast and audience.

Arrogant, mystical, weather-defying genie bastard.

Meanwhile, Singapore’s December swelters in 90% humidity matched only by the 90° temperature. Sweat streaming from our foreheads marks each roll of fat by a thin wet crease. December might as well be July – equaled in misery. Distained by the abundant Christmas lighting gaudily encumbering every mall, we gawk at faux pines saturated by all offending colors and blinding amounts of tinsel. Continue reading