Ingolf's Kneipe of Tanjung Bungah

"You can tell German wine from vinegar by the label."

Mark Twain

Welcome to Penang's own little slice of Germany.

I'm really not very good at this food reviewing lark, so here I am with another practice run.

After two seperate dinner visits to Ingolf's Kneipe (kneipe being a German word for a pub or bar) I think I'm ready to deliver my word on the place; and that word is a good one. Now, I can't tell you how authentically German the place really is - my little deficiency of never having visited the Vaterland totally threw a wrench in that. What I can do instead is tell you that the food there is very, er, yummy to my unschooled native Malaysian palate.

After all, Chef Ingolf's been cooking a very long time.

The first time Phoebs and I went to Ingolf's Kneipe, we each ordered a dish of our own and that proved to be a very imprudent (but delicious!) move. Let me first warn you that the helpings here aren't exactly designed for ladies - or for guys on a diet-of-reasonable-portions.

Phoebs took on a plate of crumbed chicken schnitzel, Julian's style (whoever the heck Julian is) because schnitzel happened to be our favourite funny word of the week,

For a size comparison, part of Phoeb's elbow can be seen there in the background.

Schnitzel basically means that a thin, boneless slab of meat was covered with breadcrumbs and fried. This one here is smothered with a mushroom sauce - as you can probably tell - and was served with a side of fried vegetables and a pair of hashed browns (or hash browns; writing it in either way is correct). As far as dishes like this one goes, it's pretty good. However, it did come with a price tag of RM 24.80.

She also had a bowl of soup as her starter,

Southern German-style Bread Soup or brotsuppe

Just to clarify, the word "bread" in the name does not refer to the bun - that came with all their soupy stuff. It's a blended mix of rye bread with cream, onions and a dash of white wine (or possibly vinegar, according to Mark Twain) and garnished with thin slices of sausages and crispy bacon bits. It goes for RM 8.80 a pop.

And the result was one helluva soup indeed. Phoebs had a lot of love for it. It was hearty and even, and chewy meat bits are always welcomed in any soup (who doesn't like bacon anyway?). Go for it if you're there but you might not find it on the menu. In our 2nd trip, it was no longer an item on it. I think there was either a revision or that they changes their menu slightly on a daily basis.

My order was a measure of sherry on the rocks as an apéritif and this,

Gefuellte rindsrouladen nach Braunschweiger art. "Looks like poop," said Phoebs.

So what manner of animal is it? Well, it's a beef roll stuffed with bacon, mustard and onions braised in a red wine sauce. The moment I read its description on the menu, I knew that I must eat it. As a good friend of mine once said, "Meat wrapped with more meat - what a concept!"

As expected, the franken-steak was freaking delicious. What I did not expect was that it was only freaking delicious for the first 3-4 bites or so. After that, I went into acute meat toxicity. Maybe it's me; maybe it's because I haven't actually eaten anything really substantial in a while (what with my new diet and exercise regime and all) but everything about this dish served to overwhelm me. The consistency of the meat log is soft and mushy, and we all know how filling those kind of food can be. Now, throw in a massive dollop of mashed potato and boiled red cabbage as sides. Imagine forcing the lot down. My bet is you'd feel like a sack of wet cement afterwards too.

Apparently, the menu said "a pair of beef rolls" but only one came on my plate. I didn't feel like enquiring about the missing roll at all. Anyhow, just so you'd know, the mash and cabbage were nice too - it's just that I was in no shape to enjoy them. If you must try the rindsrouladen, do so with a friend (or two). It's RM 25.80, by the way.

We returned to Ingolf's a couple of weeks later and this time, we shared a single dish,

Bratwurst mit sauerkraut.

It's a couple of foot-long pork sausages on a bed of sauerkraut served with a generous scoop of mash (with a decidedly un-German sprinkling of crispy fried onions) and some mustard - and like most people who can't speak German, Phoebs and I have corrupted the pronunciation of sauerkraut into "sour crotch".

At RM 23.80, it's totally worth it, especially since two of us were sharing it. The sausages were fried very thoroughly. That's something I noted on my first bite, mainly because I've had a bad experience a while back with another foot-long sausage that had an icky, cold centre in another restaurant. It's like they just pulled it out of the fridge and then slide it about on a pan of hot oil for a few seconds. The ones we had at Ingolf's were real treats. They were firm, flavourful and... how can one describe a sausage anyway? They taste like really good sausages, is all I can say. Now fuck off.

This was also my first encounter with sauerkraut and I found that I love the stuff to bits! Far from having anything to do with crotches, it's actually fermented finely-shredded cabbage. The process of making it is similar to the way they make kimchi (Phoebs thought that sauerkraut tasted very much like a less sour, non-spicy version of kimchi). I wonder if I can order it as a stand alone appetiser the next time I'm there.

I wanted to try their Hungarian goulash this time around, but their soup menu have changed - so Phoebs ordered some onion soup instead,

Some onion soup.

Her verdict: Not as good as the brotsuppe but just as priced alike at RM 8.80. A lot of other food bloggers think that Ingolf's Kneipe's mushroom soup is extraordinarily good - so maybe you guys can take that cue.

And I washed it all down with this,

A tall, cold, perspiring half-litre glass of Paulaner draught beer.

A classmate of mine from Penang's mainland told me that the owner of Ingolf's Kneipe (which is Ingolf, natch) specially imports German beers to serve at his bar, and told me that I must try some when I'm there - so I did. It cost RM 18.80 for a 300 ml glass, and my 0.5 litre glass set me back at RM 28.80. Now, I'm no great judge or lover of beers; I prefer mixed drinks. The most charitable thing I can say about any beer is that it didn't make me gag or hurl, so that's what I'll say for Paulaner here. I'll also say that it's very smooth, not too bitter and goes down well with my dinner. Still, no beer can ever worth 30 bucks to me, so yeah, I'm biased from the get go.

Phoebs who usually doesn't drink at all had a few sips and thought it was nice. Take of that what you will.

Phoebs savouring some sour crotch.

It's pretty easy to get there if you don't mind driving a bit. Just take that coastal road connecting Georgetown to Batu Ferringhi and drive till you see the Penang Chinese Swimming Club on your right. It's your cue to slow down. Almost immediately after, you'll pass a Caltex petrol station on your left - the next left turn is the one you want. Here you'll see a row of shophouses on an elevated plateau right in front of you; that's where Ingolf's Kneipe is at. It's right between the Vintage Bulgaria Restaurant and Bar (huge wooden signboard with Bulgaria's colours - white, green and red - on it) and a Guardians outlet.

Its GPS coordinates are 5°27'51.74"N, 100°17'32.91"E which should be close enough for anyone. I don't own a GPS device. I just find the place on Google Earth, pin it and then read the lats and longs. Their address is;

1-F, Jalan Sg Kelian
11200 Tanjung Bungah
Penang, Malaysia
10150 Penang, Malaysia

You know, in case you want to send them fan mail or a letter bomb or whatever. To call for reservations, dial +604-8995796. Even though we managed to get a table both times we went there, the place always host a good number of customers so there's a real possibility of encountering a full house. As I understand it, they used to be open for lunch as well as for dinnertime but due to a lack of staff, they are only open in the evening these days - and I found out the hard way that they were closed on Sundays.

I'm craving for a glass of Paulaner now for some strange reason.



Guten appetit,
k0k s3n w4i

I Met a Real Life Comic Book Guy

"Last night's 'Itchy and Scratchy' was, without a doubt, the worst episode ever! Rest assured I was on the internet within minutes voicing my disgust throughout the world."

The Comic Book Guy

This post contains very minor spoilers for Ip Man 2 and Iron Man 2.

Now, I don't have photographic proof so you'll just have to take my word for it on this anecdote. I was at Queensbay Mall yesterday afternoon - and evening - catching Ip Man 2 and Iron Man 2 back to back at the theatre there with Phoebs. After the credits started rolling at the end of Iron Man 2, I made Phoebs stay back with me to catch the a scene which I knew was going to play. It's like a sort of tradition now for Marvel comic flicks to have a post-credits scene. It was there in the first Iron Man flick, putting Ultimate Nick Fury on the big screen for the very first time. It was there in The Incredible Hulk (Ed Norton's one). And there's like 2 different ones in the appalling X-Men Origins: Wolverine in a dirty 20th Century Fox ploy to make viewers go watch the film in cinemas more than once.

Most of the audience in my theatre left right after peoples' names started scrolling upwards on the screen. The only ones who stayed behind and waited were only Phoebs and I, a trio of three girls, miscellaneous people stopped at the exit by a nice usher... and The Comic Book Guy,

In the flesh!

It's like he walked right out of an episode of the Simpsons! It was a large Chinese guy - I'd guesstimate between 40 and 50 years of age - standing on the aisle and he proclaimed quite loudly and excitedly, to no particular person, "That's next year's movie!"

And when Mjolnir came into focus in that scene, he went "Go Kenneth Branagh!" while looking straight at us. Phoebs insisted that he didn't make eye-contact with her at all and that he really had eyes on me only. Now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with Norse mythology and Marvel comic books, Mjolnir is Thor's hammer, and Thor will be 2011's big Marvel tent-pole film with Kenneth Branagh helming the project as director.

Phoebs thinks that he somehow intuitively recognised me as a fellow geek and was trying to engage me in conversation.

Tell me honestly, everybody - do I really look like a geek? Here's a very recent picture of mine (seeing as I've not shown my face here for awhile now),

I'm the one on the left, by the way.

Not at all, right? RIGHT?

Now that guy - everything about him just screamed "GEEK!" and even though he did not have any facial hair or a ponytail, he looks eerily like an Asian clone of the Comic Book Guy. He was overweight and balding, wore a worn-out T-shirt and a shabby pair of shorts and was totally geeking out over the upcoming Thor film in public. The only thing that he and I had in common is that we were both carrying messenger bags, and that proves absolutely nothing, Phoebe. Nothing! I wasn't even wearing my Joker T-shirt yesterday!

Well, I do occasionally feel the urge to educate the average (read: ignorant) cinema-goer about the accuracy of certain films based on comic books and fantasy/sci-fi novels, but never have I did it in such a ham-fisted and potentially embarrassing manner. I don't publicly show off my vast knowledge of pop-culture trivia on a soapbox. I, uh, have a blog for that. Some of you might also point out that I often go to the cinema alone to catch a film, but I have excellent reasons for that. It's just hard for me to fight the urge to see a film I've been anticipating for a long time when I know that it's playing RIGHT NOW.

Watching a film with friends can be swell and all but I find it to be a real hassle sometimes. I'd have to wait till everyone actually wants to watch that film, and a convenient time and date has to be decided upon to make it happen. And in a herd, some philistines folks with tastes differing from mine would usually vote to watch some shit movie other picture playing at the same time. That's so totally uncool. If you ask me, people should defer to my opinions on everything at all times.

Phoebs said, "I really hope you don't look like that guy when you're forty."

Anyway, let me just wrap up this post with a couple of short impressions from the films I saw,

Ip Man 2.

It's another blatant nationalistic celebration of the Chinese identity. We get another cartoonishly arrogant and evil foreigner insulting the raw awesomeness that is Chinese kung fu. Then, as expected, Baron von Moustache-twirler gets his ass handed to him by whichever kung fu master the film's about.

Ip Man 2 is basically Jet Li's Fearless set in Hong Kong instead of Shanghai, featuring Wing Chun instead of whatever the hell it was that Jet Li was doing in Fearless. A less charitable description of Ip Man 2 is that it's a clumsy attempt at shoehorning Ip Man's life story into the plot of Fearless.

And it's utterly kick-ass. I've said it before and I will say it again; Donnie Yen is much more charismatic leading man than Jet Li ever was.

The reason anyone goes to see Ip Man 2 is to see Donnie Yen take a whole lot of people apart in a series of fights cobbled together into a semi-coherent narrative. Go read a biography or something if you really want an accurate retelling of the real Yip Man's life - you ain't getting any here. In this sequel to the 2008 martial arts hit, see Ip Man take the Brits by the balls and chain punch them into a stain on the floor. It's slightly better than the first film when it came to depicting Ip Man's vulnerability. In the first film, he was practically invincible. Even in the final fight with the Japanese guy, he didn't even break a sweat. This time around, the British boxer (played like a WWE wrestler by Darren Shahlavi) actually seemed to pose a bit of a threat to our bantamweight hero. Just a bit. Then, after a flashback of himself giving someone else advice on how to defeat the white guy, he made a total comeback and destroyed Shahlavi's character in seconds. I mean, there was literally no one awesome enough to be Ip Man's mentor figure in this movie so he had to be his own mentor. Notable also is Donnie Yen's table-sparring scene with sumo-weight Sammo Hung - which is arguably a more satisfying fight compared to the finale one.

By the way, Donnie Yen also makes cigarette smoking look like a damn cool pastime.

My main gripe about Ip Man 2 is that the emotional payback weren't as satisfying as that one versus 10 Japanese karatekas scene in the first movie. I know it's racist but hey, the least the Japanese people can do to make amends for the Rape of Nanking is to let Donnie Yen punch some of them around for a bit in a movie. Sammo Hung's choreography is just as tight in this film as it was in the first one, and I actually lost count of how many times I said "Holy shit!" at some of the moves I saw.

Iron Man 2.

Best. Movie. Ever.

Just kidding but it's everything you'd expect in a sequel after seeing the first Iron Man. Robert Downey, Jr. is still utterly perfect as Tony Stark. Don Cheadle eased very comfortably into the shoes left behind by Terrence Howard as Lt. Colonel James "Rhodey" Rhodes (the War Machine) - they even hung a hilarious lampshade about it in his entrance in the courtroom scene. Mickey Rourke, proving that The Wrestler was not a fluke, was positively electrifying as Ivan Vanko, the film's primary villain. I love me my husky rumbling Russki baddie. And my girlfriend said that she'd totally marry Scarlett Johansson if she has the chance. I asked her if she's bisexual and what she pretty much said was, "For Scarlett Johansson? I can be anything."

The short of it is this; Iron Man 2 is a thoroughly fun ride. They tried injecting a little angst into the story but it didn't work at all - this ain't a Batman movie. The best bits in the first film were those Tony Stark was inventing in, and as most comic book fans have pointed out, Tony Stark's superpower is really his ability to invent any damn thing. I totally got a kick out of him building a mini particle accelerator in his lab to synthesise a fucking new element. IN A CAVE! WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS!!!

The action bits were a bit frantic and have that been-done-before feel to them. With all the clanging metal parts, I thought I was watching Transformers 3. But it's an Iron Man movie, so it's okay. We all watch it for Tony Stark anyway. The biggest problem most superhero franchises eventually run into is the erosion of their rogues gallery. Take Raimi's Spiderman run for example - after the Green Goblin and Doc Ock went kaput, they had to up the ante somehow and threw in 3 villains in the third flick, none of which had nearly enough screen-time to justify their presence. I shudder to even think of a 4th Spidey flick. It's good that they are taking the franchise through a reboot now.

So verdict on Iron Man 2? Go see.

And I'm kinda amped up now for the 2011 Thor film after seeing the post-credit scene. I'm not a fan of Marvel's Thor, but hey, Anthony Hopkins is playing Odin! This, I got to see.



P.S. This post is in no way aimed at denigrating geeks. I love the geek culture and is a proud member of the community. I just don't want to end up looking like a cartoon caricature of one.



Part-time geek,
k0k s3n w4i

Kick-Ass is Fucking Awesome

"With no power, comes no responsibility – except that wasn’t true."

Dave Lizewski, Kick-Ass (2010)

My most anticipated comic book flick in 2008 was The Dark Knight, and it blew me the fuck away. In 2009, it was Watchmen and even if it did not ascend to the greatness that was Nolan’s tour de force, pièce de résistance, arc de triomphe and whatever other pretentious expression en français there is, it was still more mind-blowingly awesome than it has any reason to hope to be (read the source material and you’ll see why). This year, my most awaited comic book adaptation is Mark Millar’s Kick-Ass, and my being a fan of the series is not the only reason why I wanted to see this so much.

Exactly what it says on the tin.

You see, Kick-Ass has a very interesting production saga – it’s made entirely outside what is colloquially known as "the studio system". Matthew Vaughn, the director, and Millar apparently tried to pitch this movie to several studios, all of which turned them down citing the splatterfestive violence and the fact that an 11 year old girl (played by a then 12-year-old Chloë Moretz) is the one who’s going to be dealing out most of it turned some very plaid executive stuffed shirts very purple. In fact, more than anything else, the protestations were focused on the issue that the same teenybopper is going to be vomiting hardcore profanities (think ‘cunt’ and ‘motherfucker’) like she has a hybrid disease of Tourette’s and bulimia. So, Millar was like "Dude, no one wants to finance this – fuck it," but Vaughn was like "No way, Jose," and scraped together more than $40 million dollars to make it happen. And it Happened gloriously. Next thing you know, all the studios which initially turned down their pitch wants to buy the distribution rights to Kick-Ass, all clamouring for more psychopathic, shit-mouthed Hit-Girl action.

Anyone who finds the idea of a teenybopper cussing morally reprehensible needs to get a reality check. I have heard harder smut coming from the mouths of Primary School kids playing DotA and Counter-Strike in cybercafés.

Exploitation? Where?

Alright, Kick-Ass wasn't the only flick to be independently financed but it's one of the few rare projects of its size and nature to be made this way. Indie films tend to be more fartsy, something Kick-Ass is utterly the antithesis of. It’s also notable that the film rights was sold before the first issue of the comic was even published, and ideas crossed over from each side all the time. It also explains why the movie departed quite a bit from the comic books' storyline midway through. More on that in a sec.

I am now going to delve into spoiler territory for both the comic series and the film, so if you don't want to have anything ruined for you, stop reading now. And yes, you should go watch Kick-Ass if you haven't. Twice if you can. It's a 2 hours long, no holds barred embodiment of pure nerd-gasmic joy.

The rest of you who have seen this, follow me,

"Or else, cunt."

The genius of Kick-Ass (both the movie and the comic) is that it's a satirical yet plausible take on the idea of costumed vigilantism. What Watchmen did for the Cold War era is what Kick-Ass hopes to do for the Internet Age and the YouTube generation. The comic series, in my opinion, did a fine enough job of it. And before Alan Moore fanboys come nerd-rage all over me, let me just say that Watchmen > Kick-Ass. Forever.

That said, I think the film totally dropped the ball on the concept midway through. At some point, it decided that it no longer wants to be a satire anymore and turned into a full-blown and - dare I say - standard superhero fare?

You see, take Dave Lizewski's/Kick-Ass' narrative bit at the beginning - he said it didn't take being bitten by a radioactive spider, a fugitive status from an alien planet or having one's parents killed in a back alley mugging outside a theatre to make one turn to vigilantism. His excuse was he was bored out of his skull; bored enough to order a diving suit off eBay and fight crime. His continuing motivation to risk his life doing this stupid superhero shtick is simple internet fame, like the thousands of Singaporean and Malaysian bloggers out there hoping to be the next Big Nothing. Dave's first outing as a masked crime-fighter? It got his shit seriously ruined by a teenage thug, a switchblade and a sedan.

The message's pretty damn straight: being a superhero in real life is a deadly stupid thing to do. Even with the metal plates implanted in his head and the loss of 80% of pain sensation from his nerve endings, he's still pretty much a loser.

Both the comic and the movie would then bring in the real deals; Hit-Girl and Big Daddy, who are actual, real-life superheroes with mad skillz and a Frank Castle-esque back-story (framed ex-cop, wife killed by mob). The film played this story element straight. The comic series went on to subvert the heck out of it. In Mark Millar's Kick-Ass, we eventually finds out that Big Daddy was an accountant who ran out on his wife with their infant daughter, whom he proceeded to train and brainwash into a psychopathic little assassin who has no compunctions about slicing the top of someone's skull clean off with a katana - all to play out his sick little comic fanboy fantasies,

Case in point.

Just felt that the movie could have followed the comic a teensy-weensy bit more. Also, I was so hoping for that scene when Hit-Girl snorted something called Condition Red from a vial which her dad told her was designed by scientists and would give her the strength of 10 men. Kick-Ass asked her if it was actually cocaine.

What? Kids tricked into doing drugs aren't funny anymore?

The movie also robbed Kick-Ass of his most bad-ass moment in the comic, but many would argue that they replaced it with an even more awesome moment. You know the one I'm talking about - his own personal Apocalypse Now scene. And if I really want to nitpick, I totally prefer how Dave's romantic subplot was resolved in the comic over the film's clichéd rom-com one.

Now, in case anyone thinks that I hate this film; that's not true. I still fucking love it. I love it so much I'm going to see it again very, very soon. It is possibly the funniest film I have seen in years, and come to think of it, I actually had more fun watching the movie than reading the comic books. And I love Chloë Moretz's portrayal of Hit-Girl so much that I'm ready to wait for her to come of age and then ask her hand in marriage. I have had my eyes on her ever since (500) Days of Summer. Wow, that came out so wrong.

My girlfriend thinks that I should stop idolising child actresses because it's fucking creepy.

Christopher Mintz-Plasse, who played Red Mist, also pretty much stole every scene he was in. I was a fan of his ever since I saw Superbad in 2007 (McLovin roolz!). He was equally great in the 2008 buddy comedy Role Models and was one of the few bright spots in the 2009 Jack Black vehicle Year One. Also, he's the main reason why I want a sequel to Kick-Ass so badly. The closing shot of him with a new mask quoting the goddamn Joker totally got to me, and I didn't even like Red Mist as a character in the comic books.

Still, when Red Mist's identity was revealed in the comic, it drew a whistle of surprise from me. Matthew Vaughn and Jane Goldman should totally have taken that page from it. I understand it'd be a little harder to pull off in real life though considering how distinctive McLovin's voice and build is.

"As a GREAT MAN once SAID... wait until they get a load of me."

I like Mark Strong's performance as the mob boss too, but then again, I have a man-crush for Mark Strong that can be seen from outer space. I even liked Nicholas Cage's campy little outing as Hit-Girl's dad and Big Daddy. I heard he's channeling Adam West, but it's been awhile since I've seen that Batman series so I shan't comment.

And have I mentioned the soundtrack yet? It's totally siii-ck. They had an amped-up, punk-rock version of a kids' show theme song playing when Hit-Girl first appear to make sushi out of some bad guys. In the Hit Girl's rampage in the third act, they had a cover-version of Bad Reputation in the background, performed by a band called The Hit Girls, funnily enough. I have downloaded the soundtrack to Kick-Ass and I'm rocking out to it every time I go out in my car (Phoebs disapproves). Mika and RedOne's original single for the film was quite good, but my personal favourite from the album is Ellie Goulding's Starry Eyed. The thing is, I can't remember the precise moment when it played in the movie.

Here's another picture of Chloë Moretz. Just because.

At some point, this movie name-dropped John Woo. Normally, if you're making a genre flick, you do not want to remind your audience of the classics of said genre - you risk reminding your audience of other films they'd rather watch. Kick-Ass had enough fresh action sequences going for it that even John Woo would feel proud getting a reference. Hit-Girl got most of the more jaw-dropping ones; the butchering in Eddie's apartment, the strobe light shootout in the dark, and the guns a-blazing hallway run in the mob's gauntlet (with that neat trick we all saw in the trailers with a goon's gun). Nic Cage had a pretty solid one by himself too in the warehouse where he took apart a whole lot of baddies with blunt, brutal efficiency.

And of course, there's Kick-Ass and Red Mist's ultimate showdown. I am happy to report that it went down predictably. What else would you expect from two mega-dorks?

I must complain, however, about the CGI they employed for some of the jet pack flying sequences. They failed horribly. It's like they blue-screened Aaron Johnson and Chloë Moretz and moved them woodenly across a cityscape background (in fact, I think that's precisely what they did). I know they have budget constraints, but couldn't they have found some way to make it work? If anything needs to be on the cutting floor, it's those bits, if you ask me.

And before I punch in the period on this review, here's a message from Hit-Girl to a certain Mr Ebert for some not very nice words he said about her movie,

Ain't she a darling?

A side note;

The Film Censorship Board of Malaysia was pretty damn kind to Kick-Ass. They left a whole lot of swearing in, including Hit-Girl's iconic use of "cunt". I suspect that they do not actually know the meaning of that word. Mind you, this is the same Censorship Board that thought "hell" was too strong a word for the weak minds of Malaysians just 6 years ago and changed the title of Hellboy to Super Sapiens for some FUCKING REASON! THAT'S NOT HOW BINOMIAL NOMENCLATURE WORKS!!! And why the fuck did they even feel the need to censor even a single swear word in Kick-Ass, a film which anyone below the age of 18 isn't allowed to see in theatres anyway?!

Apparently, they also felt that a little swearing would be more harmful to viewers than the sight of a 11-year-old girl decapitating, dismembering and disemboweling grown men. It's a-okay too if that same little girl later got savagely beaten to pulpy mess by a mob boss - but gasp, don't ever let any delicate adult Malaysian hear even the merest whisper of the f-word! Their balls will explode! Or something!

Ahem, if you're reading this, censors: GROW THE FUCK UP.



P.S. My next most anticipated comic book film of 2010 is Scott Pilgrim vs. the World. From everything that I've been hearing about this project (and have seen in its trailer), I think it's going to just as good as Kick-Ass. Or better. Just check out the trailer,

Ass kicked,
k0k s3n w4i

Bee Tin Curry Mee of Chain Ferry Road

"This curry was like a performance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony that I'd once heard... especially the last movement, with everything screaming and banging 'Joy.' It stunned, it made one fear great art. My father could say nothing after the meal."

Anthony Burgess

The Chinese curry is an odd animal of a cuisine, and other than being spicy, I personally consider it to be an entirely novel dish much divorced from its Indian inspiration. Comparing the two would be like comparing apples and oranges, so I shan’t do that.

The Chinese take on curry is generally more watered down (though that does not mean it’s any less hot) and there is a distinct lack of the usual heavy repertoire of spices which the Indians favour. I would know; I had almost 3 years to get intimate with those spices in India, where even the Chinese and Western food taste Indian. The Indian curry is passionate. The Chinese curry is measured and utilitarian.

Now that I have that out of the way, I’d like to do a review of a pretty popular Chinese curry mee stall in Butterworth. I do not know how old it is, but it was already an institution when Phoebs attended primary school here. Readers, meet the Bee Tin coffee shop,

It's pleased to meet you too.

Considering that the curry mee is largely a staple of school canteens and (I’m assuming) prisons, I do not have a high benchmark to compare Bee Tin’s to but as a dish, it’s a good one. The standard small bowl contains your choice of either mee, meehoon or koay teow, a bit of squid, a good helping of tofu and zhu hong (pig’s blood cake), bean sprouts and more si ham (cockles) than necessary, all awash in a bowl of steaming curry broth. It must be noted here that any amount of si ham is more than necessary for me, but if you like the damn molluscs, you’re in for one hell of a treat here. Also, they serve it with a spoonful of red hot sambal separately so some assembly is required,

Instructions: (1) Mix (2) Eat.

This is also the first time I have ever encountered zhu hong (literally, “pig red”, sometimes called red tofu), and I cannot overstate how surprised I am that it’s not at all as disgusting as I’ve imagined it to be. In fact, it’s not disgusting at all. I expected it to have that edgy metallic tang which blood has but it’s actually quite nice – savoury, faintly sweet and softer than some people’s brains. Now, if only I can stop that voice at the back of my head from screaming "I AM EATING CONGEALED PIG’S BLOOD, EWW EWW EWW!" every time I chew on one. It’s probably the most non-halal food in existence.

Here's how it looks like all messed up.

The best two things this place has going for me is its price and locus. The small bowlful goes for RM 2.50 only, and it’s a 5 minutes brisk walk from Phoeb’s place. And even for someone who has never been to Butterworth, it’s a cinch to locate. Just drive along Jalan Chain Ferry (the one beside the ferry jetty, bus station and train station) from either direction till it junctions Jalan Assumption; it’s in the southwest corner of the crossroad. The coordinates according to Google Earth are 5°23'55.99"N, 100°22'27.89"E.

It looks like this on the outside.

It’s great that they start operating from 8:00 am so one can start the day with some curry fuel in the engine. More places should be so considerate. I think they pack up for the day between 11:00 am and noon after they are sold out but don’t take my word for it, okay?

There’s this German restaurant I want to write about next week, after I visit it a second time. If you’re looking for some great Deutschland eats on Penang Island, stay tuned.



Update: I've gone and reviewed said German restaurant as promised. HERE it is.



Currying flavours,
k0k s3n w4i

A Profitable Surprise

"A dollar picked up in the road is more satisfaction to us than the 99 which we had to work for."

Mark Twain

In the continuing saga of my adventure in the fair state up north, I stumbled upon a cache of not insubstantial assets – much like Bilbo Baggins fortuitous discovery of the One Ring in his flight from below ground, this is the grand tradition of old fashioned tales. What I found however is not an evil artefact which grants invisibility to its wearer, and I certainly did not find it while groping blindly about a cave floor. One is much more likely to get a fistful of guano that way.

What I found was,

This bunch.

It was a morning and it was good. I was going about my business here-and-thereabouts (though what business I was busy with was none of yours). As per the dictation of my business, I was compelled to park my car and to leave it behind. Now, I was in the process of walking away but out of force of habit, I turned back to check if my car was locked properly or if it had suddenly burst into flames (more likely than you think). That was when I notice a sheaf of mostly greenish papers lying quietly by my car, fluttering slightly in a waft of breeze.

I did not recognise them for what they are immediately, them being chiefly in the new RM 50 print. I even thought that they might have Indonesian 50 rupiah bills (in which case, someone probably used them to blow their noses in and then threw them away). But lo, I saw the Agong’s smug little mug on them and "Fuckin’ hell!" I did express with hushed incredulity.

I scanned the parking place inquiringly, half-expecting to see someone who looked like they have suddenly and recently been rendered a whole lot poorer but it was an hour in which people are scarce. Whoever parked his car in my spot previously must have secreted these monies when he got off or got on his vehicle. The right thing to do, I believe, is to hang about the place to see if anyone would return to retrieve the wad and to that end, I waited about 5 minutes before I went to perform my errands. And when I returned, I expended a few more of my minutes waiting but I eventually got bored and drove away cackling and waving a middle finger about the air. Phoebs is of the opinion that I shouldn’t even have spent a second lingering to see if anyone would come back for the cash – and they call us atheists immoral, tsk tsk. Uh, for people that missed something, Phoeb's not an atheist. She's a Presbyterian.

Anyhoo, if you’ve noticed, I have not confided the time, place or the precise amount of loot I’ve picked up in this post (the picture is of no help at all, trust me, and it wasn’t all 50 dollar bills anyway). So, if you happen to be the hapless person who has mislaid a whole lot of legal tenders lately, drop a comment here with those exact details.

I am not terribly optimistic about a real claimant though. Daddy needs a new pair of Timberland.



P.S. This is the second time I wrote about picking a considerable amount of money right off the ground. If there’s a God, he seems to like me hell a lot, don’t you think?



Keeping my gaze down,
k0k s3n w4i