My flight Monday morning required me to be at the airport around 4am. Thankfully the airport's open 24 hours, and I got my souvenirs and Shiseido face sunscreen (inexplicably not available in Japan) with no problems. As airlines are soooo strict with liquids and gels these days, my sunscreen purchase was put in a sealed bag and delivered to the boarding gate for me. I was not to open the bag until I had left the airport at my destination. Crazy. I guess if you've watched enough Macgyver episodes, it is possible to whip up some awesome explosive using Duty Free goods.
At the boarding gate, I had to show my toiletries bag to the checkpoint lady. She unpacked everything slowly, and then, to my horror, pulled out my pocket knife from one the pockets. I had been looking for that pocket knife for months! I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and knew that that was the last time I'd be seeing that pocket knife. It had been with me since, perhaps the early 90s? Uncle HF got it for me, and he got my name engraved on it for free (only after asking) after he stopped a boy shoplifting from the store in Malaysia.
The checkpoint lady was really nice about it. I said that the knife had managed to make its way from Tokyo to here, so they might want to tell their counterparts on the other side about missing it on their check.
I had to sign a form saying that the knife belonged to me. What was kind of funny was that the other two names on the form -- whose knife descriptions put their knives in a much scarier category than my petit, lipstick-sized knife -- were names of women. Japanese names. Go girls!
As a souvenir for my workmates, I bought a fancy looking kueh lapis from the airport.
Of all the layered cakes I've had, I dare say that none beats the ones my mum and aunt make. I always imagine them cursing away as they cook each layer individually, vigilantly watching the oven, sweating, occasionally searing themselves on some oven surface, frustrated that something's not going as expected, worried that something -- everything -- is going to burn/catch on fire, irritated that the phone is ringing as they are trying to concentrate on layer number 31. There's just something about knowing how many temper tantrums and close calls it took to get you your cake, that makes it taste that much better.
All in all, a good one week Singapore visit. Next up: Hong Kong?
1 Comments:
awesome. and the perfectionism your aunt and mum display in the kitchen, dare i say, seems to be genetic. which is also why your cooking (and presentation) is so excellent. looking forward to stories from the next adventure!
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