…lots of this…
What do you know, I feel better already!
Mmm mmm mmm, more roasts coming your way!
Well, pictures of roasts anyway. This time, we found ourselves at Tai Hing Roast Restaurant, a recommendation of Cousin Ching’s colleague. Apparently, her colleague was on a business trip to Hong Kong and a local co-worker had taken him there for a meal. It was so good that he told Cousin Ching we MUST check it out. And check it out we did, one rainy evening!
The Causeway Bay branch that we went to was a like a hole in the wall eatery. Woe betide if you have four persons in the party – you’ll need to sit arm to arm in order to squeeze into a booth. Even with the just the three of us and mind you, we were all slim people, it was a bit uncomfortable.
But who cares? The food was delicious!
We each ordered the two-meats combination meal, which included a plate of vegetables and a soup. I opted for roast pork and roast goose. Even the soup, a run of the mill pork and corn soup, was so thick and yummy. I drained the bowl. The meats were nicely fatty and none too dry.
Me likey. Very much.
Despite its fame, we never had any intentions of dining at Yung Kee. I know, it’s famous blah blah blah but somehow none of us were terribly keen on the idea of eating there.
Unfortunately, we found ourselves in Central one evening, too tired to go anywhere else for dinner. Since we were in the vicinity, we decided to try our luck at the restaurant to see if we could get a table. We ended up waiting for 20 minutes! Bugger that!
But well, we were starving and our legs were like lead so we decided to stay and wait. Finally, we managed to get a table at about half past eight.
Hmm, what can I say about the food? It’s overhyped. Seriously. We had the so-called famous roast goose and it was…nice. Not great, certainly not as delicious as the one we had in Lei Garden. Everything was good but just lacked that certain wow factor.
The century egg starter was really nice though, especially when eaten with the slices of pickled ginger provided.
Our fish maw soup was a little bland, lacking the omph of a perfect Cantonese boiled soup.
The roast goose was nice but hmm I felt that I needed to dip it into the accompanying sauces for it to be palatable. With the Lei Garden roast platter, I was happily popping the meat into my mouth straight from the plate.
Okay, okay, so if I didn’t have Lei Garden to compare, maybe I would like Yung Kee too. Honestly, the food was good. Just don’t go to a Michelin-starred restaurant early on in your travels – it ruins your palate for everything else!
For this fantastic find, I have the lovely Miss Ene to thank.
I texted her back in the hotel room and she replied, You MUST go to Yee Shum Milk Company! Now, who am I to not listen to a fellow foodie’s advice? She’s even listed the directions of the outlet nearest to our hotel so one fine afternoon, we popped by for tea before Cousin Wan went to wash and blowdry her hair. It’s a complicated story. Well, not really. She just doesn’t wash her own hair so every time we go on holiday, she will be busily sourcing out hair salons to shampoo her coiffure. V vain but also v Fabulously Gorgeous.
The steamed milk with ginger was Super Duper Awesome. See, I love ginger. And this bowl of steamed milk was so gently pungent and smooth. I was happily slurping it down.
Cousin Ching had a bowl of chicken wings and beef noodles. That lady sure can eat. And she is so tall and slim! V v v jealous.
I decided to have a light snack and opted for the pork chop sandwich. It was YUMMY. The chop was nicely crisp on the outside and moist on the inside. Deep fried goodness, mmm.
I’m going to be taking a little break from here.
There’s still some residual sadness that’s lingering and I need to take some time to get over this properly.
Nobody died and it’s not the end of the world.
But I just need to close this chapter and move on.
I just want to go away again, fly off to somewhere else and soak in all that vibrance, bright lights and joy of living.
More importantly, I need to seek out Hope and have a good heart-to-heart talk with her.
In the meantime, there’re will be some posts that I had written back when I first came back from Hong Kong.
Thank you for being here with me along every step of the way. Promise, I’ll be back soon.
Call me Debbie Downer but in my heart, I’ve always known that it wasn’t going to go our way. Right from the start, the odds were firmly stacked against us and it would take a miracle for us to get the happy ending.
Miracles have never happened to me.
But you know, just because there wasn’t much hope doesn’t mean that I wasn’t holding out for a dream come true. Because with every procedure, there is always a faint glimmer of possibility that it might just work. You hear of stories, good stories that have happy endings, and you wonder, maybe, just maybe, it is my turn this time.
But maybe next time.
In a strange way, though, I am thankful for having gone through this. No, not glad, because nobody who wants a child deserves to go through hell for it. It isn’t fair. But this infertility shit has shown me just how strong and strong-willed I can be. I’ve cried my fair share of tears, I’ve lain in bed feeling sorry for myself but I’ve never allowed myself to stay down. And that’s something nobody can ever take away from me.
But you know what, I could never have done it on my own, as strong as I think I am. Without my darling husband, who patiently took over some of my household duties when I was all choked up with nausea, who never showed signs of giving up hope, who bought me chocolate milkshakes because he just knew I needed one, I would have crumbled. He’s my beacon in the night.
And oh, all those other people – some friends and some strangers – who brought me so much love and encouragement. Someone once told me that the support of friends is very important for those going through IVF and it’s true. The support that I had envisioned from my usual quarters did not materialise; instead, the cheers came from people whom I have never, ever expected to hear from. And it meant so much to me, to know that people were rooting for me.
Special mention to:
So what’s our next step going to be?
Husband and I have talked it through and we have some ideas. I’m going to let this poor little body of mine detox and have a rest before starting on another cycle. We’re going for a quick holiday in two months’ time and in the meantime, there’s going to be plenty of beer guzzling, wine sipping and sashimi slurping.
I’m going to bloody live again.
Leaving you with this beautiful song by my two favourite singers that’s made me cry and cry when I was at the lowest point. I just hope that there will be something for us to look forward to this coming Christmas.
There are some days when I get so tired.
When I wish I wasn’t fighting.
When I wish that things are right.
When I want to lay my head down and dream good dreams.
I get so tired.
When will this end?
How does this end?
Why is it that the world can still revolve while I am stuck at this moment?
Is anybody going to answer my questions ever?
I wish Life didn’t suck so bad.
Glad that I live am I,
That the sky is blue;
Glad for the country lanes
And the fall of dew,
After the sun the rain,
After the rain the sun
This is the way of life
Till the work be done.
All that we need to do,
Be we low or high is to
see that we grow nearer the sky.
~ The anthem of my beloved alma mater
While conscientiously doing my research (remember, PhD in Googling), I came across loads of accolades for Lei Garden. And whoa, it turns out that the restaurant is actually a one Michelin starred eatery! Reservation, made.
Turns out, it truly lived up to its name – this was the best meal we had by a MILE. Actually, make that five.
When we popped in for dinner at the IFC branch on a Wednesday afternoon, the restaurant was bustling and PACKED. V impressive. Service was certainly not shoddy, which was a major plus. ‘Twas a good thing that cousins and I have mothers who are fabulous cooks: we share the same appreciation (read: greed) for good food and so off they went, ordering up a storm. Lucky me! I just ate. And ate. And took pictures.
Delicious stir-fried beef with uber tender meat. No tenderizer here, for sure.
Fish maw with webbed goose foot. Claw? Whatever. I didn’t expect to like the goose foot but it was amazing! Tender and full of flavor. The fish maw was so moist and tantalizingly plump.
Double platter of roast goose and roast pork. Mama Mia! The fats, the fats! They be yummy! Everything was melt in your mouth sinful, and the skin of the roast pork was so SO crunchy. We loved, loved, LOVED.
No pictures here but we also ordered a simple soup of pork ribs and corn and it was the best soup we have had. The broth was thick and chockfull of goodness. We immediately felt v healthy and nourished and glowy.
Did I mention that it was the best meal we have had in a while? No surprises then that I felt like a pudgy ball of fats, ready to roll home, after dinner. But of course we didn’t. We shopped at IFC Mall for a bit, where Cousin Wan picked up a gorgeous pair of Repetto x Opening Ceremony flats for a princely sum at the expense of the poor staff who were waiting to go home.
Terrible Singaporeans we were!
Okay, let’s take a break from all these infertility shit and go back in time to when we went to Hong Kong for a holiday. I miss the food and looking at these pictures, I am one starvin’ marvin.
Confucius say (in Hong Kong accent), when you go Hong Kong, you must eat.
Oay, so obviously Confucius never said that and obviously, one must eat wherever they are, be they in Hong Kong or Timbuktu. But it must be said that our trip was planned solely around shopping and eating. Cousins and I did lots of research (Googling on my part and word of mouth on their part) and the result was that we were v fed and v happy.
The first port of call was Tai Ping Koon. As with most cha chan teng in Hong Kong, Tai Ping Koon has a heritage that would make Singaporean restaurants blush. Stepping into the eatery reminded us greatly of Shashlik – it’s so old school and cosy, with elderly men as their wait staff. Thankfully, these waiters aren’t as grumpy as the Shashlik ones, though I always say that Shashlik is the one restaurant that I would actually go and expect to be given grouchy service. ♥ Shashlik.
Back to TPK. We were starving after the flight at 4pm but didn’t want to ruin our appetites for dinner so we decided to share two tea sets: the beef hor fun (dry) and chicken wings in Swiss sauce. They were YUMMY!
Nom nom nom.
Am v fond of the beef hor fun and chicken wings, so much so that we went back a second afternoon for a late lunch. This time, we each took a beef hor fun set plus a side order of chicken wings – all eight of them wings! Slurped up every morsel of the food and washed it all down with milk tea. The Swiss sauce was v addictive, am going to try and replicate it at home.
As I am typing this, I am recovering from a bout of food poisoning.
Yes. Hmph. It seems like the Universe is really throwing rotten eggs at me. Well in that case, I shake my fist at you and say that I HATE YOU TOO, ARSEHOLE!
Let’s just say that I am super damn suay.
I went for high-tea with my friends even though I have not much of an appetite since the days of shooting up with hormones. I barely ate. We said our goodbyes and then the next thing I knew, my tummy felt strange. Went to the ladies to do the heave ho and it was CROWDED. Went to another loo and dry heaved. Cabbed home immediately and dashed to my toilet. Out comes the watermelon eaten right before we had left. Gross but phew! I mean, I thought it was blood!
We went to the doctor’s. Was given the number 94 and I tried desperately not to slump into the chair in pain. Must always look Fabulously Gorgeous. Thank goodness for yoga and all that deep breathing exercises. Finally, patient 93 walked out of the room and it was my turn. Yay!
Or not?! The doctor left to go somewhere else. Okay, breathe, there’s another doctor. WTF, he is leaving too? To pee? Who goes to pee while the patient was dying in her seat? Okay, he’s back and WTF! Number 95 is called into the room?
I slumped into my chair.
FINALLY. My number was called. After hearing my agonised words (I could barely speak), Doctor I-Left-While-Patient-Almost-Died-Of-Stomach-Pains diagnosed that I had FOOD POISONING. Poked around my tummy (OW OW OWWWW), none too gently, might I add. And when I mentioned that I just did my IVF the week before, he had to consult his Holy Book of Medicines to find something suitable for me. At that point, I was ready to explode and told him to just prescribe something that could take the damned pain away NAO. He thought I was funny and laughed.
And now here I am. Pissed off as hell that I ate so LITTLE and I puked SO MUCH. What the heck.