Friday, August 12, 2005

Wanton Noodles

The designer is out sick today and the intern was told to stay home & get his project done so there's two extra boxes of lunch. Which would be fab except the mee poh noodles seem to have a lot of yeast in it. Not allergic to yeast per say but when there's a lot of it, I tend to get a funny, numb sensation on my tongue. Not pleasant at all. The wantons are yummy though. The maid makes fabulous wantons - from scratch too! Drool.

As a kid (and OK, even now) I wondered why wantons are called wantons. I used to watch them carefully to see if they would break into lascivious and unimaginably naughty acts to deserve the name. It was always terribly disappointing when my greed would win out over my curiosity and I would consume them before witnessing a culinary indiscretion. Oh well.

I've scored one of the extra boxes for tea. I'd just have the wantons and the soup without the noodles. I've already had one horrible cup of coffee this morning at a meeting at Singtel. The lady I met was nicely loyal to her company and kept extolling the superiority and renown of their products. As I was sipping the tepid and tar-tasting coffee, I was tempted to ask if that could be extended to their coffee. But since I was there to beg them for money, I thought I should play nice. Also, one of the ladies was a really interesting person and we got into a discussion about children, art and autism. Would have liked to continue the discussion as she wanted my opinion on how to develop an art programme for her nephew and lord knows I can warble on for hours on the topic.

Then it was off to our warehouse cum boss' house to oversee some packing for a shipment of Cheung Yee art to our exhibition in Taiwan. Am continuously amazed at the eye and vision of the boss - the ability to spot revolutionary and compelling art at ten paces. I am in awe of the artists and works we have and cannot wait to study one of my fave artists when he comes down next month. I hope I can have a whole day free just to learn from him. Fingers crossed and wanton dreaming.

Categories - Rambling Prose


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