Italian tuna

M called for a picnic tomorrow at Botanic Gardens. Am bringing the ubiquitous cheese sticks...but also lots of triangle sandwiches. For some reason, I've come to see picnic sandwiches as triangle sandwiches, not square. And I'm thinking not about the usual tuna and mayo, but something that I learned about in New York in the early nineties: Italian tuna.

Back then, I was what they call an executive floater - an adminstrative assistant working on the very top floor of 1 Dag Hammerskjold Plaza, I occupied a little corner room the size of a small closet in the office of the President, where I was the second in command, working for a genial man named Spencer P-, whose main secretary, a lovely woman named Judy H- is still the best boss I've ever had in all my 17 jobs - mostly because she was always sending me home. "Go home, there's nothing to do. Enjoy the day". "Go home. It's not rocket science. Do it tomorrow." The words were music to my ears.

My job consisted of doing any typing and correspondence Judy gave me to do. I was also in charge of keeping Mrs. P informed of her husband's daily and weekly itinerary. And then I was in charge of running down to Market Street, the wonderful deli across the street to pick up lunch. I have vivid memories of Mr. P concocting his lunchtime sandwich on the fly, seemingly random and off the top of his head...

"I'll have tuna...with... hmmm....sun-dried tomatoes...maybe a slice of provolone cheese. Oh and onions and some romaine... on a white, no...an Italian roll," he would say. By the time he got to the end, my mouth would be watering. I'd say, "That sounds delicious." He'd say, "Get yourself one , too, Noelle." And then later in the afternoon, I'd receive word to put the whole thing on his expense account. Naks...

When I moved to SMP, I worked for a man named Ed S- and we worked in the Flatiron building. I would also get him his lunch. He was much less imaginative. He always got tuna. And I would get sick of it for him. So one day, I gave him Mr. P's tuna - which I noticed was already premixed in the deli nearby. Italian tuna, it said. Complete with the bits of sun-dried tomatoes although sadly, no provolone.

"My tuna was different today. What was that?" Ed S- asked me.
"Italian tuna." I told him, half-afraid he would scold me for doing the switch.
"Great. Loved it."

So tomorrow, we're going to have Italian tuna... after all, what's not to love?

Kiddie adventures in food

In an effort to get the kids away from their "regulars" of burgers and pizza, we have designated Friday evenings as food adventure night. The idea is on these evenings, we acquaint the children with other cuisines in an effort to broaden their food landscape. In the last few weeks, we have taken them for Turkish food, Japanese food that's not sushi. And last night, Friday, we took them for an Indian dinner. It was quite a ruse, because the kids have been resisting Indian food from the beginning - for reasons we are not quite clear about. So I simply didn't tell them where we were going. When we got there, we ordered according to their likes: fish tikka, butter chicken, dhal, nan bread, white rice and papadums - forgoing the curry and the vindaloo that T and I usually favour.

Today, after the Bishan run, we went to Graffiti Cafe for the Malaysian Pontian wanton mee. If I had to describe it, it's sort of like spaghetti. The noodles are in this tomato based sauce, topped with barbecue char shiew pork, three fried wantons, dark green qing tsai veggies, chicharon and chili with steaming bowl of wanton soup on the side. Yoda from the office introduced me to this, and I had taken T to previously. But I thought the kids might like it. How could they not like $2 pork noodles with fried wanton?

In the end, we asked them to rank which adventures they liked best, in order of preference:

K - Turkish, Japanese, Malaysian wanton mee, Indian
C- Japanese, Turkey, Indian, Malaysian wanton mee

Next week, we take them either to Boat Quay for Nasi Padang on banana leaves. Or to the Waterloo street hawker centre for Nasi Padang. Let the adventure continue...

BishRUN park

You can get a good run at Bishan Park even though you might start out too late in the morning. It can be a sunny morning, but the trees and the green give you a lot of shade, and you can actually make it round the 2.5 km stretch, which takes you winding about green patches, fields, and groves of trees. Yes, even at the scorching hot hour of 10:30. We rented bycicles for K and C, and T and I set off a good deal behind them, zipping away on nothing but sneaker power. The goal was modest - just to keep running without stopping for the entire park. And I would have made it too, except I had to stop to untangle C's bike chains. Next time, we will start out earlier.

Out of the mouths of babes

K: C, don't be so aggressive. Mom, C is being aggresive!
C: I'm not being aggressive; I'm being fun-loving.