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Monday, October 06, 2008

carrot cakes and objects of less importance

This is a story of a time long ago: a time of myth and legend. When the ancient gods were petty and cruel, and plagued mankind with suffering. Only one man dared to challenge their power: Butlerman! Butlerman possessed a strength the world had never seen, and strength surpassed only by the power of his heart. He journeyed the earth, battling the minions of something or another, such as the all-powerful queen of the gods. But wherever there was evil, wherever an innocent would suffer, there would be... Butlerman!

Adaptedly shamelessly from Kevin Sorbo's only memorable role of Hercules in "Hercules : The Legendary Journeys", once and always a favourite of Siglap's one true hero - myself.

It's been a while since Butlerman graced the pristine halls of the World Wide Web with his crimefighting presence... The masses would be pleased to witness my not-so-dramatic reentry to the world of literary garbage (happened so many times it's become rather embarassing, really.) Reasons aplenty for my disappearance, though it's mostly due to boredom and lethargy induced writer's block - I would like to shoulder the blame on studies but to be frank I haven't really hit the books that often (I'm fiercely opposed to study pugilism - I'm a study pacifist, as you will).

As I decided to sample the culinary delights of the Ngee Ann City (the Orchard Takashimaya to the intellectually challenged), the spectacle of watching my 3.50 carrot cake ("small, black and a bit spicy, my dear woman" were my exact instructions to the disinterested cashier. It sounded alot more appetizing then) being fried left a lot to be desired. I was always under the impression that the Union of Carrot Cake chefs only employed lean, wiry, tattooed survivors of the Japanese Occupation who boast a hearty Yan-can-cook-so-can-you smile. The Smurfette that was entrusted with the divine responsibility of satiating my hunger only proved that the Singapore's vast human resource is still unable to meet up to my high expectations.

Ngee Ann City's resident carrot-cake specialist
(granted, I haven't perfected the art of captioning with this blasted inflexible blogger mechanism)

Hailing from either one of the two possible destinations of the Smurfville or the Philippines (I'm not trying to be racist - she was quite obviously pinoy, albeit with a confusing disposition towards smurf caps and bordering around 4 foot tall), her background seemed to have a taming effect on her cooking. Other chefs tend to assault the poor cake strips with fifty foot-tall flames and wild rodeo shouts - she on the other hand fearfully massaged and stroked my carrot cakes (of the culinary variety I re-emphasis) as I watched on, close to tears out of pity for the carrots whose lives have been severely devalued by this woman's timidity. The resulting consequence of the debacle meant I was left with a plate of carrot cake strips tasting and looking like french fries prior to being deepfried. The upside of all of this is that I've been witness to the entire procedure of cooking carrot cake in psuedo slow-motion. I'm only just waiting for my induction into the earlier mentioned Union ofCarrot Cake chefs.

Until then, and seeing as I have nothing left of interest to write about and waste not-so-valuable internet space with, and my steadily drooping eyelids (out of tiredness, and not of any strange affliction), I bid thee Butlerfans (hence christened at a time immemorial)

TO THE BATMOBILE

posted by butler at 1:19 am
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