oxtail stew

the recipe called for 5h on high-ish heat in the oven. which i couldn't bring my parsimonious self to do. turned oven off after 3h and left it overnight (el cheapo short cut) but should've known better than to cut corners because it wasn't perfect. didn't melt in mouth although it was tender and fell off the bone, ish. it was also the stew that kept giving because it probably lasted almost a week which in retrospect isn't the best of things because i'm incapable of throwing food away and have an embarrassing history of consuming things on the brink or maybe even a little over, to my detriment.

one crazy day

it's no secret that i've a bad maccas habit and had been craving a maccas breakfast since before christmas. but with maccas being closed over christmas, there was no scratching that itch. so as soon at it opened after the bank holiday, i was on it. not proud that i woke late and succumbed to an uber ride (from hell) but still managed to miss the breakfast hours by a couple of minutes :( scored two lousy leftover hashbrowns but no sausage mcmuffin. boo! in my haste to get to maccas that morning, i literally ran outta the house in my pjs, without realising that i'd end up out of the whole in said pjs the whole day. there was the slight logistical issue of picking up a friend's car. she kindly lent it while she's in sg for a few months, and after some coordination  / miscommunication with her cleaner, managed to swing by hers at the same time the cleaning lady was there to pick up keys. with wheels came a newfound sense of freedom! went to liberty and got a whiskey cabinet on a whim. the plan, really, was to buy baby things but all that flew outta the window because, well, priorities.

after miraculously getting whiskey cabinet into the borrowed convertible, it was off to duke's for drinks. again, in my pjs and i didn't know where to hide my (un made up!) face. the next table, incidentally, was a bunch of uhmurikan doctors talking about the boards. so i eavesdropped and maybe picked up some tips, or not. they were pretty drunk by then and annoyingly brash.

memory fails as to what exactly happened after dukes, despite my not having much of said martini. maybe dinner in the 'hood, maybe not. but what started as an relatively early morning maccas run quite quickly escalated into a whole day affair. oops :)

my local

not gonna lie - the first few days of maternity leave were hard! think i woke on the first day bereft of purpose and had a little wobble. overnight i'd gone from a doctor running the ward (we were thin on the ground the days leading up to my departure!) to a stay-at-home mum without a baby to care for (yet). so instead of being mature and organised and getting ready for baby (or finishing the papers i was meant to be writing...) i sorta wallowed in this newfound freedom and paid daily pilgrimage to my local pizzeria. so much so the staff recognised me and would produce my usual without me even having to order. said usual was the daily 'meat special' and it didn't disappoint. although i had a brief throwback to my time in stockholm as an undergrad where i'd a daily (fresh) pizza habit. no frozen nonsense for me! the downside of living with a history student / construction worker was that he'd kindly pick up a pizza for me too on his way home from work. unlike him, i wasn't burning thousands of calories on a work site and just got bigger with every passing pizza.

banished to the loser table

went by the santa maria in the 'hood and asked for a seat. was unceremoniously banished to the communal table in the middle because i was a lone diner. not wanting to be the entitled pregnant person but sitting on a hard bench is really uncomfortable, more so than sitting on a hard chair. and there were plenty of empty two seater tables which were allegedly saved for parties of two to waltz in. but there were none the whole time i was there. did want to kick back, to put up a fight but was just too tired. and sadly, i wanted the pizza badly enough to put up with the mistreatment. 

went by sunday night a week or so later and same thing, empty tables supposedly reserved so i got takeaway instead and stood morosely by the till until my pizza was ready. customer service mega fail.

east meets west

i fear this is how my son is going to grow up - but is it such a bad thing? 

36 month old pata negra, kaya toast and grilled cheese crostinis (well it's just bread in the photo but soon to be grilled cheese!) you can't tell from the photo but the baguette is saturated with melted butter. to make it a truly singaporean brekkie i would've needed soft boiled eggs and kopi too! but the pata negra was too good to resist, although next time insisting i watch it being cut and packed cos the guy at the deli was lazy and conned us into buying the vacuum packed stuff. ugh :( hate being oversold and stuck with something sub-optimal when it could've tasted even better. even grumpier when paying a pretty penny for it.

soho

woke relatively early for a saturday and it was dreary and drizzling. the natural breakfast choice was therefore hot japanese at koya bar for rice porridge and udon. nothing like hot slurpy breakfast to warm the cockles of my heart. had onsen egg and hard boiled egg with runny centre, and grilled fish, but somehow that still wasn't enough protein and waltzed outta koya bar and straight to shackfukyu for wagyu sukiyaki picanha (and more uncooked egg :/) and because i can't leave shackfukyu without kinako french toast and matcha soft serve, that went down too. moseyed around soho, found our way to covent garden and then to mr fogg's. after visiting the gin parlour a couple of weeks ago with my cousin and cousin in law, it seemed like an appropriate stop on a still rainy afternoon. i wanted something hot and non alcoholic, like mulled wine or toddy but they did neither. a hot spiced cider would've really hit the spot but unforch had to make do with a fruity mocktail. meh.

and maybe a negroni...

maltby street

one of the few things that gets me out of bed on a saturday morning is the prospect of a st john's vanilla cream donut at maltby street. because, of course, they're gone by 1230 and i've narrowly missed scoring one if i hit snooze. have also been the lucky recipient of the last donut more than once, so i console myself with the thought that it all evens out. although my recent maltby street discovery, and hence newfound life hack, is that the st john's wine bar (oops, bad jo!) also stocks said donut and doesn't sell out as fast. but really, getting the adrenaline rush from scoring the last donut is how i get my kicks over the weekend. 

after the donuts, it's a predictable circuit that involves monty's deli and coffee. tried the grilled cheese sandwiches for the first time, and big green egg steak which was a bit blue for my liking and probably why i needed to be tested for toxo :/

sloane square

a couple of sundays ago i met C and her lovely baby L for coffee near sloane square. was a little early and we hadn't pinned down a place to meet at so i sat on a bench and watched the world go by. it was a timely reminder to remain present, to enjoy the immediate surroundings. would be lying to say i wasn't the tiniest bit apprehensive about this surprise baby but grace for the day, eh? and constantly appreciative of good health and a smooth pregnancy so far, things i won't take for granted. because, as always, being in healthcare is a stark reminder of things that go wrong. although i've been chastised for being a tad too YOLO for planning to spend week 36 on the ski slopes. it's about the latest time BA will fly a pregnant person and hm i've been medically cleared by my fantastic prof. not that i'm going to be getting any (downhill) skiing done, mind, but you know. why ever not? hope this reckless behaviour doesn't come back to bite me in the backside. don't quite fancy delivering my own baby, ya know?

pizza

without going into too much detail, work is hard. and there are days where i feel ill-equipped and inadequate. had one such day when i tried to convince the med reg to take a sick patient but alas, while helpful and supportive, he didn't want to take the patient. had to go to my consultant with tail between legs, and consultant (bless him!) rang and convinced the med reg to take the patient. patient was then in their care for 10 days. no joke. vindicated, much? when relating this sob story to one of my seniors on the ward, i got this meme in response and it was so true.

turning to food for comfort, you can thus imagine my delight to find the mess fridge stocked with pizza after drug reps had visited the day before.

first pay cheque

oops so this is a little overdue but i got my first pay cheque towards the end of august and it was an insult. i hate to sound like an ingrate but four years of lawsch, bar exam and training contract, being called to the bar, five years of medical school and after all this i get <£10/h before tax. ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? granted, law school and advocate&solicitor qualifications count for diddly squat but omg it was such an insult and i almost burst into tears. sorry, sorry, it's horribly gauche to talk about money and i get that. but my umbrage at being so underpaid has yet to die down, despite it being more than two months since said 'first pay cheque'. i can think of many other (respectable) jobs that pay >£10/h but let's not go there. 

i remember sitting in the mess, desperately trying to get my phone banking to work so i could check my bank balance and once i jumped through the myriad of online banking hoops, realised i needn't have been so eager. i'd heard pay was bad and having started work without a contract and with no idea of terms (salary, leave etc) i didn't really know what to expect. recognise that price and value are two separate things but have also seen the wanton waste that goes on within the system which makes me even angrier at how little i take home. if there was a silver lining to this, maybe i'd be better able to console myself by thinking about the long game, how the income curve is steep. but it isn't, and things don't look much better especially with the high taxes. yet it's a choice, isn't it. a choice to remain in the UK for my GMC registration, a choice to indulge my quarter-life crisis and retrain then switch career paths. could've remained a barrister and be earning easily 10x this by now. much as i'd like to be altruistic and say i'm not in this for the money, i also think there's something to be said about fair renumeration. for the work i do and daily risks i'm exposed to, i think that's definitely worth more than £10/h. #dangermoney, indeed.

faroe day 2

started in gjogv and continued to suduroy (south island). this was the day of my meltdown after being almost blown off a cliff. now i'm no featherweight to begin with, and even less so at 22 weeks pregnant and more kg up than i'd care to admit, but omg the rain and wind was merciless. made the mistake of being a hero and attempting a hike in horizontal rain. silly :( mega moment of self-doubt and questioning my life choices, plus of course the mama-to-be guilt that i'm already incapable of caring for this child in utero, what more when he's born.

but nothing a swiss hot chocolate with extra whipped cream couldn't solve as we almost missed the ferry because someone misread the time. cue another bout of omg i can't even get on the right ferry, how am i going to raise a child?! fun times, i assure you.

the cottage on suduroy was too cute for words and despite the storm was safe and inviting. cosy (and even hot!) with the heating off and when it sounded like gale force winds outside, all calm inside :)

celebratory waterfall

found out i was a doctor in the morning and celebrated with a walk to the waterfall. figured why not and if i was late back for grad ball and the crisis management driving lesson so be it. in my joy and jubilation i also managed to leave my coat behind haha so guess which newly minted dr was shivering her timbers in the highlands... pride before fall!

slow drive back through berwick and wanted to stop at our trainspotting stretch for some choo choos but was already cutting things fine. although jacket potatoes at the antique cafe were worth being potentially late for.

last day

this is slightly belated but i went with newfound friends to a pub near medsch after our first day of class. i'd just moved from singers and my alcohol tolerance was abysmal. struggled to finish half a pint and didn't have a taste for beer because it burned my tongue. oh ho, the fizz! too much! let's not even talk about anything stronger. in the (almost) five years that have elapsed, this has sadly changed. and i'd be the first to suggest heading to the pub in good times and bad. funny story - called for emergency pub meeting after the first day of third year when i very accidentally needlestuck the dean (for real). in my defence, his pinky was in the way on the rubber arm. no infection control issue, no datix, no reporting because it was a rubber arm but i was mortified that it was his first ever needlestick in over 20 years of practice :/ oh well! lived to tell the tale? or never really lived it down because my clinical group mates haven't let me forget. it's great though, if there were an award for most improved i'm sure i'd be in the running.

anyhoos it was nice to finish the last day of final year back at the same pub, this time having learnt to enjoy my alcohol and in a position to savour a pint of deuchar's :) couldn't believe that's five years done and just finals to go. and now finals have started it's just a couple of weeks to freeeeedom (and doctordom, i hope!)

toon

figured it was high time i watched a football match. watched the finals at the london olympics 2012 and thought that was pretty good already but apparently my education isn't complete till i watch a proper game, on match day. the mister knows my threshold for danger and violence is embarrassingly low so he splurged on really good seats so i wouldn't get spooked by the crowds (thank you!). that said, he did laugh at me when during some taunting on the grounds i was all ready to about turn and run away. fight or flight, hey? and again when i entered the wrong set of turnstiles, not realising our tickets meant safety in a separate entrance. found the game lacklustre and not the most rivetting of 90+minutes but defo good experience. wouldn't hurry back!

to reward my patience (hah) we went to fenwick's and bought overpriced artisanal gin and i made g&ts. the last time i made him a g&t i ended up removing a good piece of my thumb with the mandolin (someone insisted on cukes with his hendricks...) that ended up with a 4h A&E wait followed by even more time in the minor injuries unit. never again.

national gallery

singers is beautes and constantly changing and in turn i'm constantly amazed by the new sights and sounds that seem to spring up in my absence. the national gallery is one such attraction, and one close to heart because it used to be the supreme court and i've had many school trips there, and more laterly as a law undergrad / baby lawyer. to be fair it'd already moved by the time i started pupillage but remember wandering through with out of town friends before it was converted. slow on the uptake and after seeing no end of instagram photos felt the FOMO and wanted to visit too. tell a lie, it was hot and i was grumpy and it's supposed to be the coldest aircon in town. oh the way to my heart is through climate control...

was too cheap to get a sticker and tried to saunter casually into the galleries but was stopped by sharp-eyed docents. it was only the third docent who discreetly said that singaporeans get free entry and just needed to show ID at the ticket counter in exchange for said sticker. oops ;) did just that and made it into half a gallery before getting bored and making for the rooftop bar instead. that's about enough culture for one day!

postcard perfection

i'm not a morning person, and would take a duvet day over a non-duvet day any day (gosh, that's confusing!) but was recently shamed into doing more with my weekend. made the mistake of telling a doctor i moved 10 steps on a sunday weeks ago and have not lived it down. so to rectify that, thought i'd take it easy with a stroll by the water, and to a quieter part of town. got lucky with that soft, dappled spring morning light and the absolute stillness, not a ripple in sight. there's really not point to this apart from the fact that it was very pretty and i'm glad i moved more than 10 steps that day!

coastal walking

have a strong aversion to the gym and haven't run since last summer but figure i'm on my feet enough most days. don't believe in doing something over and above and much rather incorporate light physical activity into my routine. like walking to the shop for groceries. don't like the idea of ruining my joints with heavy pounding, nor have the desire to continue to strength/weight train in perpetuity once i start. it's the sustainability that i find pressuring, like once i start it's no good if i ever stop. and of course i'm bound to stop because i'm only human and have a gnat's attention span. 

so going for a walk on the weekend is about the exercise limit and even better if it's preceded by a greasy fry-up before, cake and coffee after, and maybe a pint or two. probably terrible overcompensation for negligible exertion because more often then not start with the best of intentions but 'go for a walk' becomes 'go for a drive' and the occasional photo stop because i'm such a tourist.