Asian Studies

My cold isn't getting better at all, which has featured at the brunt of my concerns given that I'll be travelling into -10 degree weather within a week's time. 

With just one exam to go, and my flight date fast approaching, I thought I would give a quick update with the near-future blogging situation.

I may indeed start migrating over to a WordPress platform (still unsure, I might keep this one around for opinion essays, rants, updates for myself on my rather dull day-to-day life etc.) just because 1. Wordpress isn't blocked in China and I anticipate a hefty portion of my near future might be in that country; and 2. The customisability is a bit more accessible over there.

Anyway, I will most definitely be blogging away in China hopefully on a daily basis (as well as my brief stint in Hong Kong) so thought I'd just let you know.

xx

The Fat Duck

It is with some significant misfortune that I find myself sans-valid passport, no visa, with the flu, speed listening to lectures that I failed to attend/pay attention in, whilst insisting on scrolling through pages of designer shoes in anticipation for the fact that I've decided to self reward myself.

Why the self reward?

1. Why not?

2. I gave away my seat at Heston Blumenthal's The Fat Duck. I gave it away. I gave away a chef's table seat. 

Now given that a seat at The Fat Duck could only be 'won' per se through a ballot draw, and that there is only one chefs table in the entire establishment that only seats 40 people in total; regardless of the $700+ meal itself, I gave away a pretty damn good opportunity.

But my bank account begs to differ and I will most certainly return home in two or so months sans any monies whatsoever. (Plus I'm not one of those 'fools' who buys designer and never wears it out - there is good reason why you pay so much money for shoes, and it's not just so that you can let it sit in its box at home).

Anyway I have more lectures to listen to at 2x speed, an ailing body to nurse; all the while having an exam tomorrow.

Excellent.

xx

The Big Issue

Hi everyone. I don't usually do this type of thing, but hear me out briefly (although that in itself is sometimes a signpost for people to do exactly the opposite).

On any given night, one in two hundred people will be homeless.

As a kid (and this is quite sappy but it's true), I always tended to pity homeless people, and I would make this wild self-promises that if I became rich one day, I would go around and give every homeless person on the street a $50 bill. As I grew older, I became more skeptical of the situation of homeless people: what incredibly poor decisions did they make to get to the point that they no longer had a home to live and no friends to help them out?

Truth is, by the time I was in late high school, I was still skeptical of giving money to homeless people given that I had heard (stress on heard) of statistics that homeless people earn the same amount in day compared with those in menial jobs.

But ultimately, who am I to judge? Sucked away by material ambition we sometimes forget about the inequalities and inequitable distributions in the world. Life is perhaps, some would argue, just about luck and timing. Some people are worse off and have to suffer worse consequences than those who may have been better supported financially.

The point is, helping out a homeless person seems to be something everyone more or less agrees is a social justice problem; but because people don't know how to go about giving money to people who they suppose might use the money to fuel a drug problem, or any other distress causing condition; they are put off by the prospect all together.

This might be way I've recently started to purchase the Big Issue. The smile and genuine thankfulness and people's faces when I give them a $10 or $20 note for a $6 magazine and tell them to keep the change is a feeling like no other.

I may complain about being poor, and not having enough money to buy the umpteenth leather item that I've caught my eye on, but at the end of the day, I have a job, I live at home, I never have fear of not having enough money for food or basic requirements.

So next time you're tromping through the city and you inevitably pass someone trying to sell you a copy of The Big Issue, give them a $10 or $20, take your magazine, and tell them to keep the change; you'll have a literal warm and fuzzy powered spring to your step for the most part of the better day.

xx

Two Essays, One Allnighter

12:03am and my tummy is feeling that funny feeling when you're downing mass amounts of caffeine from Red Bull and V cans in a bid to pursue an allnighter.

I may have severely overestimated my ability to start and finish two essays by, well, 4PM today. Not even, given 4PM is the physical submission meaning I have to trek into uni just to submit one thing.

I kid you not, I will surely, surely crash and burn upon my return home. 

Dear future self: please don't do this again

Good luck to me! #selfpity

xx

Finals Madness

Finals season is upon us and as I type, my brain drifts slowly to sleep from exhaustion. The little effects of a 375mL can of 可口可乐 are wearing off (I know, there wasn't very much caffeine in there to begin with, but with context caffeinated beverages hit me really well so one can of Coke and one can of V will power me through an allnighter usually), and I've resorted to 1AM star jumps and squats à la Elementary style (fun fact, it was precisely that gifset that prompted me to start watching Elementary).

Anyway, boys and girls I'm going to pass out soon.

Just let me go to China already.

xx

Authentic Jealousy

Ok so I've actually bid my goodnights to everyone that I was chatting to online but bear with me for this quickie post because I've finally discovered a link to Fashion Bloggers TV which is gold.

Needless to say I am 10 minutes in and shrivelling up with jealousy.

Shrivelling would be to put it mildly.

I am going to comment briefly on this though (when do I ever not have a comment on anything?). I give credit to those who pursue fashion blogs and the like, but these people, these successful bloggers, innovatively piggy-backed onto something that wasn't even a thing 4 or so years ago. They're smart and calculating in their choices to produce genuine content. I keep rambling on about authenticity these days, but it's true, we're surrounded by a plethora of wannabes and the same old same old style. These ones? They have a uniqueness about them. Their 'sense' of 'style' is truly their own. 

I dunno, I might be crumbling in jealousy but the credit and pay off is well worth the amount of effort that must have been divested into these projects.

Here's the first episode if y'all want to join me in my reflection of the inadequacy of my life (a fairly premature and melodramatic statement, I know)

xx

Apathetic Inclinations and Midi Skirts

There are far too many things to do in this last week before finals barrage down on me, but whilst I should be severely editing a piece of Chinese dialogue (to be presented tomorrow, I might add), I find myself in a bit of a funk where all efforts seem almost 'futile' in my eyes.

Futile is, however, a fairly strong word and doesn't truly convey my thought process. I may just have gotten myself into a situation where after missing too many Psychology lectures (sorry, it's just not my calling I should have changed majors probably three months ago), I'm now stumped with just how little I understand. (Unsurprising, I know)

Anyway, if anyone has barely seen me in the past week they know that all I've been rambling on about is my newfound love for midi skirts. There is something intrinsically classy and girly about a midi skirt where I unbelievably feel like a dolled up princess when wearing one (especially when the sole midi skirt in your wardrobe is a pleather gem that feels absurdly like the real deal - I would know, we have the exact same one in real leather at Saba).

Before I say what I'm about to say, here's a disclaimer: 'fashion' and 'style' should be for yourself. By no means whatsoever should you care, or consider too deeply, what other people think about your sense of style. Stop thinking too much about if you look good in something, if you love something you'll look good in it (more or less).

With that out of the way, I'm going to address one thing in as briefest terms as possible (because I really need to get back to doing that Chinese dialogue): university fashion. I am by far what I would consider a 'stylish' person. I wear a whole heap of basics and for the majority of semester 1, my 'uni look' (insert a brief ironic tone) usually consisted of boots, jeans and a top.

As of late, I am disappointed (?) at the lack of effort the majority of uni students put into their clothes. It's not to say we can't have cheat days of casual wear, but being put together and looking nice (at least for most people) is a nice thing to do for themsevles. When I have no eyeliner, no eyebrows filled in, wearing an old tshirt, skinnies and a pair of vans with my backpack; call me superficial, but all I can think about is how 'slob' I look.

I'm not advocating narcissistic tendencies, but when you put some effort into your wardrobe choice it's reflected in the day. You get comments from friends, compliments for an amazing midi skirt a new item etc. etc. It's a feel good thang.

So the next time I/someone turns up to uni wearing matching co-ordinates, a pair of heels (I kid you not, I would totally do this if my balls could withstand the pain - as it is walking along the cobbled paths of USyd in heels is a near-impossible feat), a doll-ed up face (my skin needs to breathe so eyeliner/eyebrow combo suffices my needs), or is just looking a good 10/10; don't hate, appreciate.

xx

Postponing of the Peak Hour Storm

There is nothing that comes to mind that tops the feeling you get when you're at home and the rain is pouring down hard outside.

Finally the storm has come and thank god. I can hear the dripping water off the edge of my roof hitting the floor of my balcony, the windy rain bashing against the palm tree leaves, the whistling of the wind. The faint growling of thunder and the beautiful streak of light that flashes across the sky. 

It's all very poetic and blasé, but it's very strangely comforting - what I'm feeling right now could even beat the bliss of staying in a car and feeling the rain tumble down.

In an otherwise unrelated note, I think the remarkable thing about this year is that it is very much a gap year for me. I might not be out travelling, and I'm still a full-time uni student and whatnot; but it was a gap year from people it would appear.

I should quickly clarify, by no means do I mind or dislike people, but the flexibility of attendance and anonymity of uni means that the year has represented a nice reprieve from social interaction or a nice opportunity for selective social interaction (how awfully introverted of me to say, but it appears I'm embracing this introverted side of me to its fullest in recent days). 

And I think I really did need this. How could you put it, I'm recharging for the next years to come.

High school doesn't give you this autonomy - not even close. 5 days a week of school, 9 am to 3:30 pm, there is no room for you to have a quiet moment by yourself, to just figure out what you want. Which is pretty contradictory, considering you're expected to formulate an ATAR goal by late Year 11 that'll determine your career path - but that's a rant for another time.

Anyway, I think a small part of me wanted to justify (ironically on a social media platform), my absence of desire for social interaction this year. Yes, it is a tad antisocial, no I haven't stayed at home and mulled about life all year round; but compared to others it's been a bit lacking. I just needed some solo recharging, but I'm just about ready to hit the 100% mark.

Wow I somehow manage to sound like the Energiser bunny.

xx

Less Existentialism, More Cramming

'Less existentialism, more cramming' generally befits my current situation. Time is a strange concept that twirls around fluidly with no tangible sense, given I very sincerely believed today was Wednesday - to the point that my manager called me today in a conversation as follows:

A: Helen can you work tomorrow?

B: Wait, didn't I ask for tomorrow off like a month ago?

A: For tomorrow? No you didn't.

B: Really are you sure? (Cue panic because I have plans Thursday night)

A: For Tuesday?

B: Wait today isn't Wednesday?

A: Maaaaaate

Anyway, finals are fast approaching and I've listed out deadlines for sub-tasks that need to be completed in anticipation for the assessment horrors that I will confront in my last week of uni for the year (one exam on one day, followed by two essays on the next day sound appealing to anyone?); but I suppose this is what I get to compromise for the fact that I only have two exams in the exam block.

It is, however, very bizarre thinking that a year ago from now I would've just begun the HSC. In all honesty it feels forever, forever ago; I already feel like I'm in Year II, but hey comme j'ai déjà dit, time is a strangely perceived thing these days subject to far too much inaccuracy. I heard BoS did a nasty change up of format in Paper 1 (condolences to all those who misread the question!) but I'm sure Paper 2 will come and go easily and you can move onto regurgitating  the rest of your pre-prepared content in the rest of the coming weeks. 

To those Twelvies sitting their HSC this month, good luck lovelies, it'll come and go before you know it (and more assignments await for yourselves in uni as well! yay!).

Some mellow tunes (and a hint of nostalgia, check out the Delta track and the -albeit new- Veronicas song!) for the bipolar week to come.

xx

Procrastinatory Tendencies

To be honest, the last three weeks of First Year have just started up again today and I'm not feelin' it. That's a lie, I'm a self-proclaimed nerd and genuinely enjoy learning, school and all that jazz; but my levels of procrastination or my threshold for 'effective work' is alarmingly high. 

I'm not that person who irritatingly proclaims "I only started the essay the night before" in a blasé fashion just to attract some strange flock of attention towards my supposed intelligence. I'm just someone who seems to work better under time crunches, where I think quickly on the spot and make decisions of self-assessment. I can't say it's the most effective plan, but in all honesty (and I might be jinxing myself here), I haven't encountered a major failure that has prevented me from reverting to these procrastinatory tendencies. Which, to be frank, is probably exactly what I need.

There's an odd sense of condescending irony in my amusement of graduating Year 12s condemning starting Year 12s for their stress for the incoming year. It's more than likely the same level of apathy and indignation that I feel towards HSC students, and probably the same affection I'll feel next year when I see First Years frantically stressing and making a big fuss out of marks and the be all end all.

All in all, I've tried to make this concerted effort of not over-dramaticising certain events. Marks are marks, there is no point to be melodramatic. Perhaps the only time I've been excessively melodramatic recently has resulted from an experience of personal insult that I found completely uncalled for and unprofessional - but that's a story for a different time.

I'm not sure what I'm trying to get at, but perhaps all I want to say to everyone who has the slight tendency to take events and blow them out of control is that, shit happens, calm down, life goes on. Stop exerting so much energy judging what other people think and do, and get on with your own life. I sincerely believe that if you know yourself, know your flaws, your strengths, your tendencies etc., you really shouldn't even be caring about what other people think of you. 

It's sorta just a waste of time really, and you know what they say, life is too short for that type of think.

xx

#letsdodessert

October Good Food Month calls for some much needed food blogging in amidst the existential ramblings of yours truly.

Following a walk to The Star where I met up with J, 'chelle, and A; we had a quick dinner where I finally managed to satisfy my chips craving with a hearty fish and chips at Flying Fish and Chips.

Classic fish and chips (15)

Although the chips were incredibly delicious, roughly cut and paralleling the crisp glory that are Manning Bar chips, I felt like the fish was at times a bit disappointing. Maybe had a generous shake of salt covered it I might have felt differently, but all in all it was a pretty good meal.

Next on we moved on to proceed to do two 'sugarhits'. For the past two nights, J had been galling me with her proclamations of 'sugarhits' to which I had no idea what was going on. Turns out 'Let's Do Dessert' (as it is called now) used to be called 'Sugarhits'; testament to the age of my lovely sister and her friends.

First was a leisurely walk to the Google building (of all places, I didn't think the Google building would be located in Pyrmont though!), where we found Signorelli Gatronomia, which may have just become my favourite restaurant. Quietly tucked away next to what seems at night like a creepy park, the restaurant is absolutely gorgeous. The service was absurdly, ridiculously impeccable, outdoor seating (it's not quite outdoors, more like indoors the Google building, but outdoors in terms of the restaurant if that makes sense) featured high bar tables as well as couches and lounges; tables were lit by faux candles and the echo of laughter and merriment continually softly filled the air by others cradling wine glasses and drinks.

We were treated to the vertical garden, this beast of a dessert which featured frozen nougat, rose blossom loukoum, lychee jelly, raspberry yolk and a pistachio wall.

There honestly isn't much I can say about this except that this is, by far the best dessert I have ever had. I'm sometimes this old lady who doesn't like new things or modern infusions because the taste is a bit too advanced for myself or it's just too bizarre. But wow, wow. the twill was soft and crisp, the combination of the fresh lychee and the pistachio and everything was just perfect. Far from being heavy on the palette, this is honestly just delicious. If you can't make it out to anything this October, make it out to just this restaurant, for this dessert. No amount of hype will kill the glowing reviews I'm giving it. And, for 20$ all up inclusive with the delicious dessert wine provided, it's an absolute bargain!

After an hour or so of talking about politics (it was far more interesting that what it sounds like I swear!), we ventured out to find the Grace Brasserie, where we found ourselves in an albeit bizarre location with uncertainties with what to expect.

But combatting the light delicacy that was the vertical garden, we were pleasantly surprised with the richness of the hazelnut praline chocolate mousse cake with green tea ice-cream, berries and pistachio floss that we were presented with.





All in all it was a lovely night filled with thought provoking conversation, delicious food and an overall need to start a strenuous routine of gym life (especially given that China is fast approaching).

xx

Old Soul

I've always thought that it was a tad pretentious when people identified themselves as an 'old soul in a young body' (especially coming from tweens and teens), but as of late (like many things), the idiom of sorts has struck a chord with me.

From this at-times turgid article to the light-heartedness of a Buzzfeed checklist, I find myself realising more and more that things that would ordinarily excite anyone else my age, I don't see the pleasure in doing. This is all some surface-level stuff though, no deep and meaningfuls here. It may be my introverted side dominating (on a side note I find it semi-amusing when people are surprised to discover that I identify myself as an introvert) more so than usual in this strange period of paradoxical change and stability, but who knows.

Case study: clubbing and intoxication. The idea of clubbing (despite only being experienced by yours truly a meagre two times) is a concept in itself that I'm fairly over. The thought of it doesn't scream 'fun' to me anymore, my image of an ideal night out would be spending the evening in a cozy wine bar with lounges I can sink into, red wine glass in hand, soft music playing in the background whilst I engage in either animated or deep conversation with an old friend. It's precisely thoughts like these that jar against my Facebook feed of friends out clubbing at foam parties, of the friends who I know are perpetually intoxicated on a weekend, of friends whose Snapchat stories are filled with doof doof music at the latest club they've gone into, or when friends recount their latest adventures into beer pong and house parties. The slight hypocrisy is that I can't even say I don't participate in these types of things - purely that I am far more likely to attend one that has my work mates going (all at least a decade older than myself), than one where there are an abundance of Year I kiddies like myself; if I feel inclined to go at all.

I'm not going to lie, it isn't as if there isn't not even a slight twinge of jealousy at these people 'living life to their fullest', but it's just that were I to mimic these behaviours, it wouldn't be genuine to myself. I tire of everything so easily and quickly, I love to try everything once, but I won't keep flogging a dead horse in vain attempts to be like everyone else my age.

I reiterate, I still think it's fairly precocious of me when I say things like this, but genuinely I look back and as a child, as a teenager; I've always been able to get along far better with people much older than me than people my age. Family friends always commented that I appeared to have matured earlier than the norm, work colleagues who I work with for the first time guess that I'm in my 20s already before being shocked with my real age, other colleagues are surprised of the things I say and the way I view life, suggesting that I'm too old for my age.

Anyway, on an unrelated note, I very rarely use this word (although I seem to be using it far too often these days), but this album is absurdly beautiful to listen to:



xx

Post-High School Friendships

In the numbness of spending time by yourself, you do sometimes get to this point where you begin to question your friendships, your relationships, the progression of the year. 

I remember I set out this year vowing to be no bullshits about myself, after six plus years of caring far too much of what other people thought of me; and to be honest it's been going really nicely. Uni is sometimes this magical place full of different kinds of people who (for want of a better word), you can really sift through to discover the people you mesh with. 

 I find it remarkable that one of my best mates now is someone I went to high school for six years with and with whom I virtually never talked to during the duration of those six years. It's strange that with those I was close to in high school, I've become even closer to in uni. At the same time it's strange to drift away from those I never imagined I would drift away from, but I think we're all beginning to move along with our lives for better or worse. With others, you begin to realise that if it weren't for the fact that you saw them five days a week, you probably wouldn't be friends.

I was (and am) awfully pessimistic about the duration of friendships, or the likelihood of maintaining high school friendships post-school, but at the same time there's a tinge of heartache for those I had these brilliant conversations with, where we could talk for literal hours on end, and seeing how the state of our friendships are in now. 

The best friendships, after all, aren't necessarily the ones where you have similar interests. The best ones are the ones where you argue ideologically, the ones where you both share or at least understand each other values, the ones where you call up to vent, the ones you spend hours on Skype with on mute just for their company whilst you slave away into the night studying, the ones who judge you but don't care. Those friendships aren't defined by time, you don't necessarily have to see them everyday or talk to them. But I suppose it takes time to find them.

There are far too many people I want to catch up with for a day, lounging in a wine bar, lying on the sand at the beach, sunbaking in a park; to relive the conversations from the past; but this is all nostalgia. Like I said, people change, and although that's by far a bad thing, sometimes the change means that friendships aren't quite what they used to be. And no one has the time in their lives to be insincere about their friendships, or have a friendship that is a one-sided effort. Takes two to tango after all?

xx

Question: International Global Studies

Where does one even begin with this question. A part of me is aware that you might only be asking about the brief run-down of the general pros and cons of my degree, but I'm lamely really passionate about what I'm studying, so you're in for a treat; and I'm going to provide a full blown mini essay on what my degree is like.

First up some clarifications about misconceptions you might have heard, or the general lack of information that people seem to be exposed to about my degree: yes my degree is essentially a glorified arts degree, but no it's not really. In your first year (and if you're going by the traditional pathway, as most of us/you generally will), you'll select 4 subjects. In a general straight Arts degree, these 4 subjects could be basically anything. In INGS, it's a bit more structured. One has to be the compulsory INGS subject, one has to be a subject that you're planning on majoring in (where the major comes from a set list of about 8 options I think), one has to be a language subject, and the last is a subject that will contribute to your second major (this can be literally anything offered in Arts). You also have to go on a mandatory minimum semester of exchange, and who doesn't love exchanges. I have heard from my unit coordinator however that from next year onwards, you'll need to maintain a Credit average to stay within INGS; which just goes to show the level of academic rigour required in it - far from that expected in other arts degrees.

Now onto the fun stuff.

Firstly, it's the only interdisciplinary subject that I'm aware of. So each semester's INGS subject will be taught by a different departments. Therefore, last semester was taught by the Department of Government and International Relations, this semester's subject is taught by the Department of Sociology and Social Policy; next semester is taught by the School of Languages and Cultures and the Department of Media and Communications and my last INGS subject be a practical-based 'case study' unit. The main thing is that you get a large range of perspectives and understanding of (usually) the same issue, so for now we're always asking questions about the effectiveness of global governance structures like the UN, or the impact of globalisation.

Secondly, everyone you meet is so passionate about their degree. Not going to lie, everyone studying INGS or Commerce Liberal Studies is more or less someone who is attempting to make a Law transfer. But the people studying this course are genuinely so intelligent, I remember the entire first semester I barely participated in tute discussions (despite the fact you get marked for tute debate participation), because I was so self-conscious that I was going to say something dumb, or say the wrong thing - and if you know me at all, you can understand just how insecure I felt that I was acting like that given I usually just say whatever and not care about the consequences. It's a bit of a pretentious thing to say, but intellectual debate and conversation can be so stimulating sometimes.

Thirdly, the course itself is so relevant. You begin to understand the news in a whole new way, you approach global collective issues (ie. issues that effect everyone) like climate change, and trade inequalities with a much more holistic and educated perspective. You finally understand the tensions between certain countries, and you begin to leave this idea of Western hegemony - ie. that everything the West and the dominance of global superpowers such as the US, and begin to develop a more holistic and nuanced perspective on international political, international relations, international agreements... In all honesty, I can't stress the relevance of this unit enough.

Finally, people are always trying to say that "oh you won't get a job with an Arts degree" and I have always, always, said "don't believe that". There is absolutely no point going to tertiary education and not being challenged, or more importantly, not enjoying what you love. I am absurdly lucky that I realised I really wanted to do this course just before the main round preferences were due, and even luckier that my beliefs about this course were reaffirmed.

Most of you know I'm chasing a law transfer, but even with the transfer, which extends my degree to 5 years, I might have a break from law in my fourth year and do an honours year for International Global Studies, because I love it so much. That might put my total years at uni to 6 but honestly, what does that matter? I might go into the workforce slightly older than some of the other fresh out of uni graduates, but does that matter? Along the same strain of thought, I might end of deferring some of the latter years of uni to just do some travelling (essentially take a gap year in the middle of my degree), but that's all speculation, I don't know if that's possible. Whatever happens, I know I definitely take a year off to just travel after I graduate uni and before I enter the workforce, because there aren't many things I've learnt in my nearly two decades of life, but one of them is life is too short to be chasing after things that can come later. 

Anyway, that went into a bit of an existential tone at the end, but hopefully this sufficiently answered your question!

xx

Holla

Holla guys, I'm temporarily able to spend some time browsing the web machine for some inspiration (hence the flourishing of opinion pieces and strange social commentaries here on the blog), which also means that I'm alive and kicking on most social media platforms as well (except Facebook, because to be frank, I only really use that for the Messenger function and seeing the odd absurd video every now and again tehe).

So it's hump day, and while I repeatedly die in a puddle of feels from this song ("One minute?", "One minute" #collapses), here are a couple of my other links on the interweb.

Pop by this tumblr for some beautiful things (or what I sometimes like to call a visual map of my thoughts):

This tumblr for some laughs (and hints into the too many shows that I follow):

This pinterest for all thing inspiration (mainly style and travel):

Instagram, because, well, instagram:

And let's not forget ask.fm; so holla at me guys re what you want me to write about, anything you want to ask me about uni/post high school shenanigans:

xx

The Modern Woman

"没有物质的爱情只是一盘沙，都不用风吹走两步路就散了"

“love without materialism is just a pile of sand, even without the flowing wind, it will spill after a couple of steps"

The trend in my INGS debates have largely been centralised around this idea of the irrevocable permeation of Capitalist ideology within our frameworks of governance, thought - everything. I don't necessarily think that Capitalism is a bad thing, but I am acknowledging that I have had no reason to think otherwise.

The ongoing dialogue of what constitutes a 'modern woman' has in the past fairly disinterested me given that I don't particularly think any one generalised term can even begin to encompass the nuances that make a 'woman', or associate with the archaic level of thinking that promotes gender binaries; but for some reason there's something about it that has got me thinking.

I read somewhere, that the 'modern woman' wants to pay her bills, be self-supported, but also wants her man to open the door for her. These paradoxes of traditional 'gentlemanly' masculinity with the ideal of independent career-driven womanhood seem to make up the dialogue of what constitutes 'woman'. More so, there appears to be this continual reliance, or desire for a 'partner'. By no means am I advocating for 'cat lady status', but in a world populated by individuals, we're awfully concerned with trying to find others before we find ourselves. It's all a bit corny and lame, I'll give you that, but as always, bear with me.

So the above quote comes from this lovely little Chinese film called《小时代》, or Tiny Times, and you should disregard the terrible IMDb rating and just hear me out for a second. Yes the plot is absurdly absurd (there is no other way for me to put it) and the acting is at time pretty shoddy, but there are some provoking messages dotted in the script. One of them being the above quote.

Materialism is so unfairly correlated to woman in a negative way, where all woman care about is what brands we own, how expensive our clothes are; how our material possessions are an indication of our own status, worth and meaning. I could never say that I am not the embodiment of what I just stated, but rather, should I, or you, be considered any less of an individual without our materialistic desires? Capitalism runs on materialism. There is no capitalism if there no continual ebb of supply and demand, over over and under accumulation of goods, of commodity chains, of product development.

How can anyone make verbose claims that they're 'better than us', that we're 'superficial' because we embody materialism and Capitalism; when in reality, we are all the same. Everything, as we know it, runs on an active acknowledgement of the Capitalism. Materialism bonds us to this Capitalistic ideology and keeps us functioning in this world, or else we need a radicalised ideological revolution to shift the way we think.

Food for thought (also, though not entirely relevant, thought I might share the below video)

xx

Chill Vibes

With the beginning of this brief mid-sem reprieve from uni, I'm back slogging in retail, scrambling to fund exchange adventures and shenanigans. But at the same time, the robotic movements of unpacking stock, and repeating of the phrase "hey, how are you today" oddly provide a nice change of scenery from the typical treks into uni, of continually assessing, thinking, stressing, or (as was the case recently) going to all costs to try and avoid eye contact with the campaigners who infiltrated every main entrance and exit of USyd.

So amongst the frantic applications of makeup prior to running out to the train station to make it into work on time, I've managed to fit in good, solid hours of Scandal binge-watching (#Olitz forever, I've never felt this absurdly obsessed about anything; it's quite unsettling to be honest), breaks spent in the backroom at work reading over articles about the narcissistic tendencies of current young generations, a near-obsessive tendency to continually re-apply holographic nail polish because I spend too much time admiring the rainbow colours in lieu of remembering the sizes a customer has asked for; and times chilling out to music.

So my daily glazed over train rides into the city have been dominated by these tracks (with a couple of good ol' Chinese ones thrown in because, you know, cultural awakenings and all that)

xx

Unpredictably Beautiful

I know it's a bit blasé titling a post 'Unpredictably Beautiful', but it is interesting how I seem to be very affected by short little films about social justice. Some make me a bit weepy, others are just eye-opening. Some are advertisements about some of the most superficial things (case in point, an ad about Lynx deodorant), and some go a lot deeper.

xx

Interim

In this day before my International Global Studies essay is due (an essay, I should remark, that I've barely started), I find myself questioning the authenticity of the 'blogging' world or how the concept in itself has evolved in such a proliferated rate.

I started blogging near the latter part of 2009, as an outlet maybe, an exclamation to the world, a dialogue with myself; for the rambling angst of a 13 year old girl. There was never any end-goal, never a constant monitoring of blog statistics (although a blogger would be lying if they said they didn't expect anyone to read their blog), en bref, never a desire for the blog to mean anything more than an online documentation of spur-of-the-moment musings.

At times I feel like blogging in this age has become tainted by the mass pursuits of young somethings like myself who want to amass the same attention and publicity as what some might regard as 'blogging greats' - the ones who lead jet-set lifestyles, who flood their Instagrams with sponsored designer goods, the ones who are flown to the global fashion show meets; I'm sure you know a couple.

Although by no means should these pursuits be regarded as futile (and I don't excuse myself for partaking in some of these), I think the large majority lack the authenticity that made these initial 'blogging greats' so successful. We now live in framework dominated by "like for likes", "follow for follow", "tags for likes", "subscribe now". I understand that self-promotion is a necessary means to an end, but I've always felt (call me lame) that things should be done with intrinsic meaning to oneself. 

We should be doing something because of the process, rather than deluding ourselves with the end-goal. To some, this type of 'life logic' isn't always applicable; I know many who used an absolute goal as constant motivation for something else - whether it be setting a desired ATAR as your desktop or planning for yourself a thirty year plan to become a CEO of some type.

Life is never linear enough that a certain set of planned actions will allow you to obtain a goal (although take this with a pinch of salt, I'm a barely two decade old human being). The adjustments, the luck, the perceptions of the time all factor into how and when you obtain a broad goal. On the same strain, we shouldn't be limiting the content we produce on our blogs to conform into just one model - who says you can't have both a food and fashion blog? Who says that you can't write about your personal life events? Who says that you can't upload the odd rant against humanity every once in a while?

Well there's some procrastinatory food for thought. 

Over and out.

xx 

Dinner at Din Tai Fung, Chatswood

Don't be put off by the (relatively) poor Urbanspoon rating, I was almost in tears for the most part of this dinner because the food was so good.

Tofu with pork floss and preserved duck egg

The food comes out exceptionally quickly and following Asian food tradition, everything comes as it comes and there isn't really a set structure of entree/main/dessert. Ordering the tofu with pork floss and preserve duck egg (8.8), I was skeptical given that I (to put it mildly) don't enjoy pork floss; but lo and behold the dish was pretty damn good. The tofu was fresh and the combination of preserved duck egg, pork floss and tofu was strangely really nice. Of course, not a dish for everyone, but the flavour of preserved duck egg was incredibly mild in contrast to everything else - the pork floss is the flavour that seems to come through the strongest. So for me, not my favourite but it wasn't as bad as I thought it could be.

Spicy shrimp and pork wonton

Now we should note that I am extremely picky about wonton. Since I was born (no melodrama here I swear), I have never liked any wonton from any person or restaurant that is not made by my lovely mother. It's something to do with the flavouring, the amount of meat, the flavouring of the meat etc. etc.; but wow the spicy shrimp and pork wonton (9.3) was delicious.If I had a stronger chilli tolerance I would order bowls after bowls of this stuff, but alas I knew I had full dishes to myself to consume and so I had 4 of these and relinquished the rest to my sister who gladly gobbled them up (in conjunction with her own bowl). 

Fried pork dumpling

I will probably never say no to deep fried anything. The same was the case here with the fried pork dumplings (5.8). No fault, the serving portion was just the right size, the Japanese mayo (I'm assuming) was a lovely addition, the meat inside was juicy and sweet. No faults.

Pork xiao long bao 

I won't say too much about the pork xiao long bao (12.8) because there's a lot about them on the food blogosphere but wow they're worth the hype. The skin is thin and just right, the soup juices hot and delicious, everything everything was just right. 

Chicken fillet

My sister was incredibly skeptical that this would turn out really nice, but there was this beaming 'specialty' indicator next to the chicken fillet (10.8) so I got it and no regrets at all. Given this came out at the same time as the xiao long bao and the fried pork dumplings, I went into a bit of a delicious-food-shock having been presented with so many delicious things at once. It was also around about this time that I started tearing up because the food was so good (it might help to add for context that J and I had been surviving on tacos, instant pasta and everything in Heston for Coles food range so all these delicious, fresh things came as a bit of a hit in the face)

Vegetarian bun and Vegetable Pork bun

In all honesty the buns were probably the biggest let down for the night. Mum makes the best vegetable buns (and meat buns) ever, so really, this was sort of a doomed from the beginning.

When we went, wait time was very brief at about a few minutes and we were in. Upon being seated, you're presented with both a 'menu' and what looks like a take-away check list. You proceed to order through checking off what you want off the 'list' and then hail the waiter once selected. Wait time for food was a little longer but it didn't really matter in the end because the quality of the food was such top notch. We were also given a bag-stand-carrier (how does one even explain this?) which was very nice and hailed back to meals spent in Japan.

Anyway, point of everything is go there, go get a food baby, it's very much worth it.

High Tea at Sir Stamford Hotel, Circular Quay

My lord this post has been on a backlog for 5 weeks now (oops)

Reuniting with my high tea gang (backstory: the four of us have been going to high tea together on a quarterly basis since late Year 11/early Year 12), we finally made it to the Sir Stamford Hotel at Circular Quay for an absolutely delicious and lazy Sunday afternoon.

Quietly led through the hotel reception and into The Dining Room, we were allowed to sink into two couches and peruse the menu for a while. Ordering the Traditional High Tea (54 pp) we were accidentally treated to a glass of Moet & Chandon, before being offered our glasses of sparkling wine.
Carefully advised to eat from bottom to top (common sense I suppose, but its testament to the service and detail that the staff were incredibly knowledgeable on exactly what sandwiches were on offer). Unfortunately I can't remember exactly what was what, but the curry chicken sandwich in the middle was absolutely delicious.
Given on many an occasion of high tea, I've ended up not eating half the sweets on the middle tier purely because they just didn't suit my taste; this was far from it. The desserts were absolutely delicious, freshly made (none of that stale taste you sometimes get when desserts have been refrigerated) and not too sweet. 
And oh my lord the scones the scones. They're not much to look at, and it's not the usual savoury kind that I prefer, but my lord these were delicious. Soft and fluffy, buttery and light; fresh cream and jam. What more can I say?

The ambience here is absolutely enchanting (pardon the use of the somewhat archaic term). It's quiet and sophisticated, yet warm and homely. Usually these high tea reunions are a one hour, two hour affair; but we were here for a solid four hours just catching up and sipping on wine. What a classy affair, non?

Will definitely be back one day (after we thoroughly explore all the other high tea venues Sydney has to offer), but lord knows we won't be going back to The Victoria Room Tea Salon in Westfield again (except for their chips, but that's a story for another time)

Beijing

A quickie but a goodie

Exchange Registration: Paid
Paperwork: Complete

Done diggity, someone's going to be in Beijing for some time this year!

Cultural Awakenings

It's quite bizarre to think that I had to turn eighteen to become so interested in my culture. Growing up with memories of wanting to have been born a different colour, of thinking that in order to be 'cool' I should try to associate myself with Anglo-Saxon caucasians as much as possible is a somewhat embarrassing recall. 

I've always thought it was petty and useless to try and direct yourself towards a certain specific end-goal; so all I can really say is right here right now all I really want is reconnect with my heritage. I used to barely speak any coherent Chinese at home, but now it's all I try to do. My watch list is full of Chinese serials (hello Voice of China) and movies, I find myself enjoying my brutally accelerated Chinese course at uni... 

Don't get me wrong, plunging myself into things like this is somewhat cruel (cue self-pity), but I think au bout du compte it's been a long time coming.

PS. I had to snitch the above photo of maybe my second-favourite place in the world, check out the photographer's flickr feed though (living vicariously through photos is probably the only thing I can manage right now)

Elie Saab

Sorry for the lack of anything new here - there are a couple of things on Joe and a couple of drafts to be finished but Sem 2 is killing me slowly.

In other news, Elie Saab, oh my god.

Aroma Festival and Back to Uni

Last day before the hell of uni begins again, Nat and I stumbled upon the Aroma Festival at The Rocks in the late hours of the morning when crowds were in full force.

Given I was hanging around the area to have high tea with the usual high tea gang and I had already downed a grande soy chai latte, I initially had no plans to buy anything or try anything (particularly as lines are not very attractive and I'm not exactly a coffee snob - who am I kidding, my coffee order is a soy chai latte need I say more?); but after seeing copious amounts of people weave in and out through the crowd clutching hot dogs with impressive weiners that fragrantly left a trail of caramelised onions behind them; Nat and I (against my better judgement) decided to share one.

Check out the bite Nat uncontrollably took before I could whip out Joe!

With some superb luck, we accidentally cut into the line discovered a new line right near the front and ordered the giant thuringer sausage (10).

Although the sausage itself was quite juicy, the spices could've done with more of a kick and the flavour itself was a bit bland. The bun was a bit too sugary and the onion could have been caramelised more. There was also something a bit off about the BBQ sauce, it wasn't tangy enough, in fact it was quite acidic.

Don't get me wrong, by no means was the sausage bad, it's just that given the lines, the hype and the amount of people cradling the take away box, we were a tad disappointed.

In extension I tend to find this is generally what happens when I (rarely) decide to venture out to food festivals completely unprepared. I feel like these festivals need to be enjoyed with leisurely strolls all day with a coin purse full of loose change and a whole group of people to try a large variety of things. But in all honest my god I hate the lines so much. I remember one time mum and I went to the night noodle markets and instead of waiting the absurd 2 hours lines to get a glimpse at the offerings of restaurants such as Chat Thai, we travelled to Chat Thai itself and dined there that night.

Anyway, in addition to the tangents I'm taking, let us take a moment to mourn these last few hours of my holiday. Setting out for a holiday of savings, working and revising content; instead I spent my entire holiday earnings under a week, worked six days a week and revised 0 content (hello cramming in this first week of sem 2).

Excellent stuff. Saving is overrated to begin with (said no one ever).

Dessert at Gelato Messina, Darlinghurst

Following dinner at Mad Pizza e Bar in Newtown, we journeyed to Kings Cross/Darlinghurst on a Monday night to consume the Masterchef-featured cone.

Choc Top: salted caramel gelato soft serve, Italian meringue, gianduja ganache, amoretti biscuits and a sugar cone

Not visibly available on any of the signage, should you want one of these delicious cones of joy, you need to pop round to the cake section of Messina at Darlinghurst, and ask if they had any choc top cones available, to which they respond yes/no and if it's the former, choc tops begin appearing out of a magical fridge.

What can I even say about this icecream. The salted caramel gelato soft serve is to die for. I would eat buckets and buckets of this stuff if I could. The salted caramel taste of the salted caramel is lovely and distinct, saving the gelato from tasting too overly sweet. The amoretti biscuits were a bit damp and the cone itself wasn't immensely crispy but there's nothing much that can be done about that given the icecream within the cone has made it damp in its storage (and I cant really propose any solution at all to this given they take 45 minutes - 1 hour to make). 

At 10$ a pop, they're far from the cheapest ordinary choc tops you can get from Hungry Jacks. But oh so worth it.

Anyway, I'm not sure if it was because of the sugar or the general stupidity of the adventure, but from Messina onwards, these two lovely ladies became sober-drunk (0% alcohol consumed, 100% acted like they were drunk), repeatedly voicing the syllables of Wolloomooloo and demanding we take a 'scenic route' of Kings Cross, then promptly telling R and I that they were lost.

Whatever the reason, I'll miss you Sammie HAVE FUN IN UCLA, I will most definitely take you up on my request your offer and crash in your dorm at some point in the next four years; and here's hoping for more psych shenanigans with C and R in the next sem xx

Dinner at Mad Pizza e Bar, Newtown

Adventuring into the night for what turned out to be a completely sober, bizarre reunion amongst PSYC1001 kiddies; our adventures with food led us to eat dinner at Newtown, catch a taxi to Gelato Messina at Darlinghurst; and proceed to realise that the same pizza place where we had eaten at Newtown was no more than 50m away from Messina.

Tuscano: shredded lamb shanks from Victoria, baby spinach, red onion, garden peas, mint, fetta, garlic & lemon

Ordering three pizzas and a pasta to share between four, we opted for the tuscano, funghi and primavera pizzas.

The lamb on the tuscano was lovely and juicy and the assorted toppings of vegetables were fresh and crisp. The provided lemon was a welcome relief to the fragrant spices of what I assume the lamb had been marinated in and the pizza base was perfect.

Funghi: Fat field mushrooms, rosemary, fetta & rocket leaves w/ shaved Parmesan & virgin oil

Being the mushroom fiend I am, I can find no fault with the funghi pizza. The field mushrooms were indeed fat and succulent, the rocket a lovely bitter crunch, the virgin oil dripping everywhere... I will say that for an additional 4$ the virgin oil could be replaced by truffle oil but I completely forgot about this when we were ordering. But no regrets there will always be next time (especially because this is only really a short walk from uni)

Primavera: Crisp cooked base w/ rocket leaves, diced tomatoes, shaved parmesan & sliced South Aust prosciutto

The primavera was exactly how a prosciutto pizza should taste. Although the tomato chunks look a tad too big, they were actually just the right size to create a burst of freshness in your mouth. Rocket, proscuitto and cheese could never fail anything.

Siciliano: Rigatoni pasta w/ Qld prawns, fresh tomato, Garlic, chilli, basil & pangrattato

And finally the siciliano pasta. In all honesty I can't comment much about this beyond the fact that it was pretty good. It was quite spicy though (I completely overlooked the word chilli in the menu) and I didn't end up eating much, particularly because I was inhaling my pizza slices and by the time I got to the pasta I was already pretty damn full.

I loved the vibe of this place, and the cute customer service we received on the quiet Monday night we decided to go in on. All the pizzas were gobsmackingly delicious and I'm interested to see if there are any real differences between all the different other locations dotted around city of what seems to be this pizza "franchise".

Verdict: Will be back

Part 2 of this night's adventure continues here!

Sample Sales and Lunch at Paramount Coffee Project, Surry Hills

On a day planned for frantic errand running around the city, mum and I spent the late morning navigating the Jac + Jack sample sale which was conveniently located in the same place as Paramount Coffee Project.

First off, the sample sale was amazing. Rarely do I go to sample sales purely because I never find anything I really love (here's to you, all the Ladakh and One Teaspoon sample sales), or anything that still has my size. The Jac + Jack one however was full of excellent stock, had plenty of XS's dotted around and as we were paying cash we skipped an absurdly long line and probably spent only an hour or so in racks of heavenly cashmere and basics goodness.

Moving onto lunch, we were graciously welcomed to sit on the bar table where our lovely waiter asked if we would like to start off with some coffee. Upon ordering a soy latte, we were then informed that the Paramount Coffee Project makes their own almond milk; which is excellent given I prefer almond over soy any day. 

Almond Milk Mocha

Mum's almond milk mocha was what she regarded the perfect balance of coffee and chocolate; personally I prefer a tad more chocolate but mum absolutely loved it and quote her, "the more you drink the better it gets"

Almond Milk Latte

My almond milk latte was excellent as well (but in all honesty I'm not really a coffee snob and I have no idea what I'm talking about generally because my previous coffee order was a decaf soy mocha - lame I know - and I now drink a soy chai latte - not much better eh? -) so I can't really say much.

Sorry for the quality of the below two photos, I used my phone instead because Joe wasn't focussing and in all honesty I was irritated and hungry and really keen for food.

Baked eggs: chorizo, cannelini beans, toast

The baked eggs with chorizo, cannelini beans and toast was absolutely delicious. For this dish alone I will walk the not very long walk to this part of Surry Hills any day. The combination of the fresh and acidic tomatoes, the perfectly spiced chorizo and, surprisingly, the the beans (which I usually hate) made the dish mouthwateringly good. My only pet peeves? The yolk of the egg could've been a bit runnier, the yolk itself was for some reason very salty, and I wish there was more buttered toast! The toast is a delicious way to scrape up the rest of the tomato-y sauce a la baked beans on toast style; albeit in a fancier and more flavoursome way.

Crab Po Boy: soft shell crab, house slaw, ranch sauce, milk bun w/ onion rings

After seeing nearly every Urbanspoon reviewer choose this, I felt more than sure that this would be a good order. Temporarily forgetting that I don't even like soft shell crab (how does one even forget this?), I ordered this regardless. In all honesty I didn't hate it. I liked it very much but it is an incredibly intense dish. The flavour can be quite heavy on the palette and I think I needed a more acidic or fruity drink to offset the rich taste of the soft shell crab and the beautifully creamy sauce. The onion rings were also great, but not going to lie, in retrospect they're a bit on the pricey side given they are at $1 per onion ring.

The vibe of the cafe is like that of most Surry Hills restaurants. A diverse mix of yuppies, hipsters, new mothers, old friends, first dates and bloggers; the minimalist interior and excellent service is something that is probably why people come back and back again. Not going to lie, I'm going to be back just for the atmosphere (and the baked eggs).

L’humanité est vraiment dégueulasse 

Travel Bug

In the midst of these frantic, work-filled holidays; I've found myself increasingly surrounded by Instagram feeds overflowing with foreign travels, interstate shenanigans and a general step-by-step perpetual update of where I would rather be. I'd much rather be frolicking around the Mediterranean Harbour of Tokyo DisneySea, or even just be lying in the sun on the Gold Coast where my lovely friend is off, having the audacity to suggest she can't wait to be back home in Sydney (I kid, it's all jolly). Even though a few weeks remain of these holidays (weeks which I will undoubtedly be filling with more work in my last-bid scramble to try and make as much money as I can to save up for my inconceivably expensive and grand nine month escapade to Asia), people are regardless jetting off to Taiwan, to Melbourne; to somewhere other than Sydney.

Jealousy's a bitch.

Game of Thrones Exhibition

Wow what a day. 

Going on the third opening day of the free exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Helena and I (amongst some uni friends I happened to bump into on the day), waited a staggering six and a half hours to get into this small, but far from underwhelming exhibition.

Lunch at Grill'd Burgers, Chatswood

Just a quickie food post (and then some blogging of other shenanigans that I've been getting up to in this wondrous month of nothing!)

'Field of dreams' - grilled field mushroom, basil pesto, roasted peppers, tasty cheese, salad & herbed mayo

Craving a burger nearly a fortnight back, I finally got around to satisfying the craving with the lovely Annie, when we made an impromptu trip to Chatswood for both post-exams celebratory food (the trend continues) and my need to gratify materialistic desires.

I remember a while back the first time I tried Grill'd, I ordered the Almighty, a beast of a trad' aussie beef burger whilst A got a field of dreams. Upon entering the cozy little joint in the Concourse a few days ago, all I really felt like was a big grilled mushroom; so unsurprisingly that's what I ordered.

I feel to some degree that I played up the deliciousness of this burger far too much in my head and maybe I was better suited to getting the simple, traditional beef burger or the chicken and brie burger that my C via Instagram chastised me for not getting.

At times I felt the mushroom was almost rubbery in texture and a tad bland for my liking. Although I didn't mind the combination of flavours together, in fact I think it was a great combo, I think for me some parts just weren't working. The cheese could have been a bit more generous and the basil pesto could have been used a tad more sparingly. Chips which were lovely and crisp at the beginning, were not the burning, right out of the oil warmth that I love (on a side note though, this may be because I had to get Joe out, take a photo, then take a photo via my Note 3 for Instagram; and although in my mind this hardly took too much time, the reality of it may be different).

I can't say I was exhilarated this time around, but I feel like it was a series of situations that made my tastebuds a bit strange. After all, I was feeling quite uncomfortable all day and quite tired which was a bit out of the ordinary.

Dinner at La Rosa Bar and Pizza, City CBD

Celebrating the end of Tina's exams and catching up with Nat (there's a general trend here isn't there?), we went somewhere a little bit fancier than the usual by going to a cosy Italian joint in the beautiful strand, La Rosa Bar and Pizza.

Polpettine di Carne con Salsina Piccante alle Olive - Free Range Pork and Parmesan Meatballs with Spicy Chilli Salsa

For starters, Nat and I shared a small range of polpettine meatballs which had polenta 'tater totts' (I can't think of any other way to describe them and a lovely salsa in accompaniment. The pork meatballs were excellent and the salsa was a lovely addition although in all honesty, the meatballs were succulent and juicy enough on their own that the salsa was not an immediate necessity; more like (and as it should be) a nice complement to the dish. The polenta totts were tasty and I could have a bowl of these all day, dipping them slowly in salsa and smacking my lips repeatedly.

Salame di Wagyu - Tuscan Style Mixed Wagyu Beef and Pork

I'm not going to lie, usually I never order salame at a restaurant, but I feel like that predominantly lies in the fact that most average go-to Italian restaurants don't feature options upon options of salami and moreover, I recently re-watched Eat, Pray, Love again and a particular scene of Julia Roberts passing a woman in a restaurant eating figs and salami has been firmly entrenched in my mind.

Anyway, the wagyu salami was so damn good. Not at all sinewy, full of flavour; and when combined with the buttery bread, a drizzle of olive oil, the olives and some of the pickled vegetables; it was heavenly combination of textures and flavours in my mouth.

(Bruschette) Pomodoro e Olive con Ricotta Salata - Tomatoes, Black Olive and Salted Ricotta

Tina ordered an unsurprising traditional bruschette combination; although I only had a bite, the tomatoes were fresh, the amount of olive oil drizzled on was perfect and the ricotta was a great addition to the palette-cleansing starter.

Moscardini Ubriachi - Tomato & Olive Oil Braised “Drunken” Baby Octopus with Fennel, Caper & Parsley Salad

For mains, Tina ordered the baby octopus; but I only got a brief taste of this and I don't think I'm justified in commenting about it given that I've only ventured briefly into the world of octopus through the side-door of takoyaki. Tina did note that it was incredibly heavy on the palette, so by the end of is she had to give a good portion of it to Nat to finish for her.

I can no longer find this on the menu, but the above was my pasta dish of choice; a wholewheat bigoli of some sort, with a pork accompaniment that had been infused with truffle oil. The infusion with truffle was just right (given in my homemade adventures with truffles, I've come to discover that there is such a thing as over-infusing something with truffles), and the wholewheat pasta made me feel like an incredibly healthy aficionado for some reason. Although hardly one of the most beautiful dishes, I still highly enjoyed this.

La Rosa is an incredibly intimate place with dim moody lighting via candles in the early evening, moving onto unobtrusive 'mushroom glowing' lights in the late evening. Filled with romantic couples, birthday dinners and even a hen's night (a classy one I gather); it was a perfect place to sip rose and enjoy an evening catching up with good friends. And with an Urbanspoon rating of 91% based on 305 votes, that's a pretty impressive feat. 

My only qualm may be that our waiter was a tad inattentive and it took a while for him to realise we were attempting to catch his attention to order some wine to start off with; and during the course of the night it was generally fairly hard to wave him over. Albeit this minor detail, I'm far from disappointed by the restaurant; service is, after all, associated very much with the level of 'fine dining' a restaurant possesses. Maybe it was because I've just been to Popolo, but I don't think La Rosa has quite reached 'fine dining' status, although it's pretty close to it.