Look no farther

Malcolm did some research and took me out to a surprise venue for a romantic honeymoon dinner in Bangkok.  When we arrived at the destination, I learned that he'd chose SMITH restaurant on Soi 49, Sukhumvit.

   "I read that their steak tartare is really good so you  might want to try that," Malcolm told me. I was SO game.

The inside of the restaurant matched the metallic outside.  The exterior was a nondescript building of corrugated metal.  The interior had metal seating everywhere, wrought iron details, and a section with meath -hooks hanging from the ceiling.  Funky photo-portraits decorated one of the few walls of exposed brick.  The lights were low to set the atmosphere while the in-house DJ spun old-school R&B; forgotten singles by TLC and All Saints threw us into a nostalgic mood.

Everything on the menu looked delicious and we decided to order accordingly.  Malcolm let me place my order first: I asked for the fresh oysters (3) and the steak tartare (of course!) to start, the pasta special as my main, and a side order of brussel sprouts.

Apparently the server wasn't accustomed to inquisitive Canadian appetites because she took that to be our entire order and left. Malcolm and I caught each other's eye and laughed before beckoning her back to take Malcolm's order of mussels and sea bass.  Turns out she had to return a final time because they'd run out of mussels and we had to fill that (obviously) gaping void in our giant order to sate our appetites.

The food came and we tucked in.  We were not disappointed.  I was pleased to try caviar with my oysters and was delighted when my steak tartare was arranged as a sunrise (or sunset) on my plate.  Malcolm's salad was the best he'd had - "I could eat this everyday!" - and our mains were delicious.  Admittedly, I think I enjoyed Malcolm's sea bass with buttery foam a little more than my tortellini.

As we dined, Malcolm shared another tidbit with me.

   "Apparently the chef and owner of this restaurant is the Iron Chef of Thailand."
   "That's awesome! What else did you read from the reviews."
   "That was it."
   "There were no more?"
   "No; after reading that they served good steak tartare and that it was by Iron Chef Thailand, I knew you'd like it for sure, so I stopped reading."
   "Fair enough."

He knows me so well.  Perhaps the way to my heart is also through my stomach.

We ended our perfect evening by sharing a banana split (the bananas were fired like the tops of crème brulée!) that was delectable and then left for home and a massage - extremely satisfied but not too full.  It was perfect honeymoon dining with my husband (husband!).

What'cha doin'?

Hi.

We're alive.  :)

We made it through a lot and I HAVE been writing about it, but in the good old fashioned way with pen and paper (my pen actually died before we even left Malaysia).  Here's what we've made it through so far:

• we got married (amazing wedding, amazing party, many happy tears)
• we flew to Malaysia
• I averted a pickpocket attempt on Malcolm in the airport (by kicking someone, no less)
• we took the Canadian family around KL to see things and stuff them full of food
• we had another wedding tea ceremony (amazing family, more happy tears)
• we had another wedding reception (oh, the FOOD!)
• we flew to Bangkok
• I got over food poisoning from the airplane food on that first glorious night
• boys went fishing, girls went shopping (though I really had to concentrate to get my poisoned shit together for two days following)
• we ate FOOD
• honeymooned in Krabi - I didn't want to leave
• returned to Bangkok
• I avoided another pickpocket attempt (this time a motorbike purse-snatcher) by having my wits about me...though I wish I'd managed to kick another someone else in this instance
• we got massages
• I caught a cold that I booted after a glorious day of sleep mixed with cable TV
• we bought stuff
• we ate stuff
• we ate more stuff
• we're going to eat more stuff

Of course there are more details, but those will come later. I think I need to go sit by the pool for a bit. :)

The honeymoon diet.

Step 1: eat bad airplane food.
Step 2: throw up all the food you've eaten in the past 24 hours.
Step 3: expel any remaining food, liquids and nutrients anyway your body allows.

I don't have a scale, but I'm guessing you'll drop at lest 4 to 5 pounds via this method.  Also throw in some non-eating days due to food grossing you out while at the same time going on full day shopping excursions because you're too stubborn to ruin the trip for anyone else and that'll probably help a bit too.

Well, I WAS a little worried about the bikini bod, but this was a little surprise jump-start to getting back on track...
...

   "Oh my god I threw up so hard I gave myself an ab cramp!"

1. Abs can cramp individually?
2.  I have abs?!

It's gettin' hot in hurr

I checked the weather for Thailand - 33°C daily, though it's going to feel like 47°C.

I don't even know why I'm packing clothes.

What's in a name - part 2

On the Saturday before our Malaysian wedding reception, all of Malcolm's aunts and uncles poured into the house to greet us, to eat, and to start the celebrations early.  With Malcolm's mom being the eldest of eight siblings, and with many children and grandchildren running around already, there were a LOT of new faces to meet.

As they all arrived in a steady stream of bodies, I passed some helpful advice to Brodder that I'd learned myself the previous two times this had happened to me.  It was a great survival tip and he appreciated it.  Later, Like-a-boss-Lee asked Brodder if the evening had been overwhelming with all of that new family.  He gave away the secret tip:

   "Actually, once melody told me not to worry about the names and just to call everyone 'Auntie' or 'Uncle,' it was okay."

Herding cats

On the way to the Batu caves, we managed to arrive just 5 minutes before the next train to our destination was about to depart.  Buying our tickets, we scurried over to the KTM entrance; Brodder took the lead while I brought up the rear to make sure we didn't lose mom or dad.  We flew through the turnstiles (kind of - the ticking system was new to mom and dad) and Brodder led the way down to our platform.

   "Platform 3!" he yelled over his shoulder.
   "Platform 3!" I confirmed from the giant destination marquees set at the head of the station stairs.  Taking the stairs at a run, blindly trusting us, mom called back up to us,
   "Platform 3, how do you know?"

Giant marquees.

When we reached the platform, we were asked again,

   "Are you sure this is the right platform?"

Signs everywhere: "to Batu Caves."

Sigh.
...

Later that day, mom wanted to scoot up some steps to follow signs to the nearby hotel in hopes to score a tourist map.  She'd originally asked Brodder, me and dad to wait for her at the bottom of the stairs, but after a moment, Ken and I considered the bustle of the busy train station and decided otherwise.

   "Dad, change of plans: follow mom up the stairs."

Dad obviously didn't hear me, so I repeated myself.

   "Dad! Follow mom up the stairs."

He still didn't respond, so Brodder tried.

   "Dad! Go up the stairs - follow mom!"

Still nothing.

   "Dad!  Go up the stairs!"

Finally, dad turned around to face us.

   "Hey guys, I think we should follow mom up the stairs."

Yes.

Making a point

I somewhat recall waving a marshmallow skewer around that night, pointing the business end of it at TCHC, demanding him to make up his mind (about a girlfriend of mine) and to get his shit together about the other aspects of his life.

I was given more information than I had bargained for.  And an onion.  I was also given an onion.