tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69214245680262597862024-03-13T13:51:35.480-04:00Food & ExperiencesA record of eating out, cooking in, and the food life that happens in between.
Based in Toronto but I travel the world all over (that money lets me).Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.comBlogger117125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-18940734070916499502020-04-17T16:33:00.000-04:002020-04-17T16:33:12.588-04:00Fusion pasta<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A spicy garlic butter pasta, slightly adapted from Marion's Kitchen: <a href="https://www.marionskitchen.com/spicy-garlic-butter-linguini/">https://www.marionskitchen.com/spicy-garlic-butter-linguini/</a><br />
<br />
<b>What I used:</b><br />
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>spaghettini</li>
<li>4 garlic cloves</li>
<li>1 bird's eye chili (VERY hot)</li>
<li>tablespoon of fine diced white onion (leftover)</li>
<li>olive oil</li>
<li>butter</li>
<li>red chili flakes</li>
<li>soy sauce</li>
<li>worscestershire sauce (replacement for oyster sauce)</li>
<li>grated parmigiano-reggiano</li>
<li>kosher salt</li>
<li>reserved salted pasta water</li>
<li>lemon zest</li>
</ul>
<div>
<b>What I did:</b></div>
<div>
I followed Marion's recipe pretty closely with just a couple of mods. I decided to add one bird's eye chili, because I wanted more heat, and the diced onion because I had it leftover.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Boil the water for cooking pasta first because there isn't much to the sauce - yet this sauce is so rich and indulgent! In a large pan, I heated olive oil first then added onion till translucent. Seasoned onion in the pan with a bit of salt. Next, I added about 1 to 2 tablespoons of butter, finely minced garlic (4 cloves), diced chili, and a generous helping of chili flakes (about 1 to 2 tablespoons). Once garlic starts turning golden, I added 3 tablespoons of soy sauce and 1 teaspoon of worscestershire. I stirred this for a minute or so then took it off the heat, waiting for my pasta to finish cooking.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As soon as pasta is al dente, I put my sauce pan back on the heat and added the spaghettini directly to the hot pan. As Marion instructued, I kept turning the pasta in the pan, letting it absorb the sauce. It looks so glossy and beautiful, at this point!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then take it up another level and add in about 3 tablespoons of finely grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese. If needed, add a few tablespoons of reserved pasta water to melt the cheese, and turn it into a luscious sauce. Once all the water is cooked off, turn off the heat.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I served the pasta with another sprinkling of parm, a bit of zested lemon, and a couple cracks of black pepper.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>What I might do next time:</b></div>
<div>
I absolutely loved this dish. Simple and rich. Carbalicious. Butterlicious. Spicylicious. All my favourite things. I stuck pretty close to the original recipe for my first try because I haven't made a fusion pasta like this before (adding soy sauce and worscestershire really punched up the umami and salt dimension). Next time, if I wanted a little virtue, I might finish with frozen peas, baby spinach, or add a fresh lemon vinaigrette salad to go with it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In general, I think this sauce could be a great basis for lots of on-the-fly pastas. Maybe add mushrooms and leeks another time. I love pasta because it's a delicious way to use up a lot of wilting veggies.</div>
</div>
Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-74618612263077487382012-07-11T10:34:00.005-04:002012-07-11T10:35:42.242-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">At times you have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the
wilderness of your intuition. What you'll discover will be wonderful.
What you'll discover is yourself.</span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: xx-small;">―Alan Alda</span></blockquote>
</blockquote>
</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-85518597727900953922012-05-04T12:50:00.001-04:002012-05-04T12:50:54.632-04:00Losing My Religion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>I wrote this story for the online publication "<a href="https://ethnicaisle.wordpress.com/2012/04/25/tricked-into-catholicism/">Ethnic Aisle</a>." It is part of its Religion Issue.</i><br />
<br />
That I grew up Roman Catholic strikes me as absurd. I am an obvious
Chinese woman whose parents were born and raised in a marginalized
Chinese community in Calcutta, India (now, Kolkata). Aren’t Catholics
supposed to be Italian grandmas with wooden crosses in their kitchens?
Or pale Irish schoolchildren lining up nervously outside church? I can’t
tell if other people think my Catholic roots are strange too and
they’re just being polite. Maybe the fact that seven in 10 Canadians
identify as Roman Catholic or Protestant means that an Asian person
claiming Christianity in multi-everything Toronto is simply ordinary.<br />
<br />
For a long time it felt extremely ordinary to me. I was born in
Toronto, attended two Catholic elementary schools in North York, and
spent four years at an infamous all-girls Catholic high school in
Willowdale: St. Joseph’s Morrow Park, more affectionately known as “St.
Ho’s.” (Compared with what I later heard public students did in junior
high, the majority of us in our hiked-up kilts were far from sexually
obsessed hos.) <span id="more-1237"></span>Most importantly, though, the
elders in my family seemed very Catholic. Father, mother, aunts and
uncles attended church every Sunday. They happily celebrated the
Catholic rites I fulfilled as a child. They all invoked Jesus or God or
the Church in some lecturing way to coerce me into favourable behaviour.
Like I said, extremely ordinary.<br />
<br />
I started questioning everything when I hit my teenage years, as most
people do. I also stopped attending church regularly at 17 when my
parents divorced. Then, while earning my journalism degree at Ryerson
University, I learned about British colonialism and how Western
religions entered foreign lands aiming to convert natives. With this
newfound knowledge, I quickly connected the dots about my own family and
one question grew louder in my head: Why the hell are we Catholic?<br />
<br />
I investigated by asking my dad and his sisters about their deceased
parents: “Were they Catholic?” They responded that my grandmother wasn’t
and that my grandfather converted on his deathbed—which appalled me
since he had Alzheimer’s. “So what were they?” An aunt or two thought
probably Buddhist. I asked my dad, “Why are <i>you</i> Catholic?” A pause. His
eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then finally: “As a kid, the priest gave
out food and told interesting stories.” Also, all his friends were
doing it, they were very poor and the Catholic schools there were much
cheaper than the rest. At the time, as an impulsive 18-year-old, I
blurted out, “So you were tricked into being Catholic.” He and my aunts
flatly denied this because really, who wants to say they were duped into
relinquishing their ancestral belief system? It’s probably not as
simple as I’m making it out. But one generation of Catholics within a
multi-millennial culture was enough to make me seriously reconsider my
position on the matter.<br />
<br />
I never brought it up again. I knew in my relatively traditional
family, breaking the religious mold we formed over 40-plus years
wouldn’t go over well. Throughout my undergrad, I attended church at
least once a year, groping to find even a remote connection to the
religion I was born into but that my parents weren’t. I never felt a
thing. I even thought God had picked up and left because he didn’t want
to be associated with a fear-inducing organization that had its own
systemic problem of pedophilia and gross hypocrisy.<br />
<br />
Now, I only attend church out of obligation. Baptisms, weddings,
funerals. I can still recite all the prayers and sing all the songs and I
remember all the stories. Until writing this story, I’ve never told my
family where I stand religiously. They likely know I don’t care for
Catholicism anymore. No one pushes me on the matter but I can feel the
frowning sometimes. When I consider how the religion was pushed upon
masses of people though, the thing I find most absurd about growing up
Roman Catholic is my family’s frowning. At the same time, it’s extremely
ordinary.<br />
</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-36930689860818906902012-03-22T10:34:00.002-04:002012-03-22T10:34:19.633-04:00Rethinking and redesigning storing fruits and vegetables<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Ingenious and lovely.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mG9xYVyAnuc" width="560"></iframe>
</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-22119964372173100512011-11-17T15:17:00.001-05:002011-11-17T16:22:27.801-05:00Wontons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My father taught me how to make wontons as a child. I may have learned as young as five or six. We sat at the kitchen table with ground pork (mixed with oyster sauce, salt and corn starch), square wonton wrappers and a bowl of water. He held a wrapper in his left palm with one corner pointing to the wrist. After dolloping pork in the center, he wet the border of two perpendicular sides with his right hand's index finger. He folded the wet borders on to the dry ones to create a triangle, pressing edges together, the pork safely enveloped. Then he tucked the right corner underneath the left one to complete the parcel. The simple yet elegant process infatuated me.<br />
<br />
I started making wontons myself in my post-secondary years. In the first summer of my 20s, I made a turkey version for friends because one, as a Hindu, ate no meat except poultry. My buddies devoured the turkey dumplings. In fourth-year university when I lived on my own, a classmate requested I prepare the original recipe with him because, I think, it reminded him of his mother who passed away. More recently, I taught the man I love how to wrap wontons for one of the first dinners we shared at home together. Just two weekends ago, my eldest sister served me her wontons for dinner. About her five-year-old son, she remarked, "You know Raja helped me make some?"</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-32208504266218966602011-11-14T16:56:00.001-05:002011-11-14T17:00:35.044-05:00Rice<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I never realized how much I loved rice till I started dating my boyfriend. We see each other nearly every day and always at meal times. (Or maybe we're just always hungry.) If we see each other for seven straight days, I request sushi six times. Fresh raw fish is delightful, no question. But I most crave the sweet, salty, acidic, vinegar-dressed sticky rice that, pressed together into a soft white pillow, still retains every individual grain's character of slightly chewy texture. The rice sticks together but each grain stands separate and strong on its own like a marching army on the thin red line of seaweed, tuna, avocado, cucumber or whatever your sushi tongue desires.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, fish is a mere accompaniment—not the other way around. I'm often satisfied with my sushi combo order, yet I find myself staring longingly at my boyfriend's bowl of rice, dotted with sesame seeds. I'm internally appalled at its abandonment for beef teriyaki instead. Historically regarded as poor person's food, rice is often neglected for its mistaken blandness or feared for its needless carb counts. But great sushi rice is rich man's food. Expert sushi chefs spend five years learning how to cook perfect rice and blend it with their master's tried-and-true balanced vinegar mixture to moisten, sweeten and elevate the individual grains to thousands of tiny edible gems. The gems glisten and beckon me to consume every last morsel—though it's not technically mine to consume. <br />
<br />
"Can I have your rice?" I ask, though my plate is cleaned and the boyfriend, twice my petite size, could easily eat more.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, sure. Go ahead," he replies sincerely.<br />
<br />
I greedily gobble and stab my chopsticks at every last piece. Sometimes this rice isn't the same as what they use for nigiri and maki but I must have it anyway. Because leaving one grain of rice behind is an insult to poor and rich alike that I just can't tolerate.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-53063443366230891412011-11-11T16:39:00.001-05:002011-11-11T16:40:19.816-05:00Cheese, donuts and roast beef<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The cheese was as ripe as a pregnant woman in labour for 36 hours.<br />
<br />
The donut smelled stale, like an abandoned attic filled with moldy blankets and yellowing black-and-white photos of relatives and their friends long forgotten.<br />
<br />
The roast beef sandwich tasted as though I successfully sweated through 90 minutes of a body-bending hot yoga class.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-27525956707206664702011-05-12T11:29:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:49:24.180-04:00Roast Beef Sandwich<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">The roast beef sandwich tasted as though I just completed 101 consecutive push-ups, beating <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/kattancock/status/68491387087228929" target="_blank">Kat Tancock</a> and her boyfriend at their own game.<br />
<br />
It was that good.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-88393494695332813552011-05-11T16:52:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:49:23.845-04:00Mangoes: Fruit of the Gods<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The mango case sat at the top of the stairs, yellow bumps flashing. I picked up one and felt the weight of a baseball. Bringing it to my upper lip, I closed my eyes, inhaled slowly and postcards of Indian beaches shuttered in my mind.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I walked to the kitchen. I got a cutting board and a cleaver. I peeled the skin. The juices smeared my fingertips and the fragrance filled my nostrils. I carefully let the peel fold into one curled strand.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The mango sat in my palm, shining like sunset light streaming through stained glass. Enclosing my fingers around its slippery body, I cut grid marks. The blade easily slid through to the seed. As I sliced against the inner stone, pieces fell on to the wood with a small plop.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I didn’t bother with a plate—or a fork. Taking a small wedge between my fingers, I dropped it on to my tongue. My teeth effortlessly pierced the golden cushion. My taste buds cheered as supple sweetness burst in my mouth. Everything went in slow motion. But after that first morsel, the view sped up like a time-capture video of clouds in the sky—except instead of white pillows moving across blue air, a hand darted in and out to steal the exotic ambrosia till it all disappeared.</span><br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"></span>After all, I did feel godlike by the end.</div></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-37280823352132961672011-05-08T15:10:00.001-04:002011-05-08T15:11:07.905-04:00Your Last Meal on Death Row<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>There was a citywide indie arts festival <a href="http://heatherjeanli.blogspot.com/search/label/Singapore">when I was in Singapore</a>. In one hallway leading to the Metro station were rows of American convicted killers' portraits paired with stark images of their last meal request.<br />
<br />
Initiated by American photographer Jonathon Kambouris, the project made me feel unsettled and eerie. Kambouris asked the question, "How is society really served by the death penalty?"<br />
<br />
Personally, I've always seen capital punishment as an archaic relic of societies past, forgetting that it is still legal in several United States. And after reading<i> </i><a href="http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/09/07/090907fa_fact_grann" target="_blank"><i>The New Yorker</i>'s haunting piece on whether Texas executed an innocent man</a> earlier that fall, it's a question that sits in the back of my mind, waiting for a reasonable answer that may never come.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnozrY4GIGM/TcbgvgenrSI/AAAAAAAABqQ/fNJZyoORVo8/s1600/IMG_2066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wnozrY4GIGM/TcbgvgenrSI/AAAAAAAABqQ/fNJZyoORVo8/s320/IMG_2066.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WjT2qRep7i4/Tcbg3G4_O2I/AAAAAAAABqU/ZrUW1erFdCU/s1600/IMG_2068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WjT2qRep7i4/Tcbg3G4_O2I/AAAAAAAABqU/ZrUW1erFdCU/s320/IMG_2068.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xXlHWYQNO1A/Tcbg9Kw2UbI/AAAAAAAABqY/sQV_jUFP8gg/s1600/IMG_2069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xXlHWYQNO1A/Tcbg9Kw2UbI/AAAAAAAABqY/sQV_jUFP8gg/s320/IMG_2069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dGPR2zQwGuE/TcbhEAB8UfI/AAAAAAAABqc/AbwYv1gmQOc/s1600/IMG_2072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dGPR2zQwGuE/TcbhEAB8UfI/AAAAAAAABqc/AbwYv1gmQOc/s320/IMG_2072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
To see all the photos, visit <a href="http://www.lastmealsproject.com/" target="_blank"><b>www.lastmealsproject.com</b></a>.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-7254714188131834842011-05-06T16:20:00.005-04:002011-05-08T00:11:13.735-04:00Bak Kut Teh - A Soup of Home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I never met my cousin Augustus before till I visited Singapore but we bonded instantly over a shared age and love of food. He took me to the hottest club shows and the best late-night eats.<br />
<br />
Our first early morning food adventure together was <a href="http://heatherjeanli.blogspot.com/2010/10/zouk-dance-break.html">another</a> <a href="http://www.zoukclub.com/" target="_blank">Zouk</a> club night.<br />
<br />
After a Wednesday night of highly choreographed dance moves to popular 80's tracks (Mambo nights), Agus was raring to take me for bak kut teh — pork rib soup. I wasn't one to refuse.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6gVorHx8OJg/TcYUdS0YHoI/AAAAAAAABpk/NU2DZXYX_7U/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6gVorHx8OJg/TcYUdS0YHoI/AAAAAAAABpk/NU2DZXYX_7U/s320/IMG_1986.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
It was also the first time I had a barley drink before (no alcohol). I didn't like but it's supposed to be very good for you. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aWchrrZOQQU/TcYUkAJqKGI/AAAAAAAABpo/RuEOzbQAhOg/s1600/IMG_1988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aWchrrZOQQU/TcYUkAJqKGI/AAAAAAAABpo/RuEOzbQAhOg/s320/IMG_1988.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
But the soup. Oh my. The soup (bottom right corner). It's not much to look at but one whiff and I was drowning in a haze of meaty aroma that flickered with the life of a nighttime campfire. I slurped up the broth with abandon. And I wanted more. I was like the greedy little fat kid in <i>Charlie and the Chocolate Factory</i>, except instead of a river of milk chocolate, I wanted to fall into this river of bak kut teh.<br />
<br />
<i>What does this smell like?</i><br />
<br />
I couldn't stop gobbling it up, inhaling it, wondering why it was so familiar yet so different from the original dish. Then it hit me.<br />
<i> </i><br />
It smelled like Montreal Schwartz's smoked meat.<br />
<br />
I was home at last.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-47275478652042991562011-04-13T07:14:00.002-04:002011-04-13T07:14:00.684-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">May you live in safety. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you live with ease.</span></span></div></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: xx-small;">—Philly D, inspirational hip-hop yoga instructor; and co-owner of Moksha Yoga Winnipeg</span></i> </blockquote></blockquote></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-60206408258978423862011-04-12T14:35:00.005-04:002011-04-12T14:59:08.394-04:00Poached egg and noodles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="mobile-photo">Last week I went vegetarian. It was part of a seven-week yoga challenge to <a href="http://mokshayoga.ca/lym.htm" target="_blank">live my moksha</a> off the mat.<br />
<br />
I love meat — a lot — so it was a difficult task at times. While my fellow yogis sip on zen tea after class, I'm often found devouring roast beef sandwiches. The hardest part was deciding what to eat. My inner voice (or probably my devilish taste buds) would whine, "This would be easier if I could just have meat." But once I resisted my animal urges, I enjoyed discovering veggie alternatives, including the mix-and-match salad bar at Pumpernickel's featuring such delights as couscous, bean salads, and roasted beets.<br />
<br />
My most triumphant moment was at home. I created a three-ingredient dish with my favourite Chinese noodles, baby bok-choy and a poached egg. I love watching gold spill out from the delicate white pocket of this unfertilized chicken spawn. (There was lots of talk among carnivorous friends if eggs are meat.) This sunshine-in-a-bowl atop slippery sweet noodles and some greenery is a fine meal for even my non-vegetarian days.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xMzuOHgla-8/TaD_BJoQFFI/AAAAAAAABpM/sFDLMJHbeJ0/s1600/photo-774193.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5593751132423853138" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xMzuOHgla-8/TaD_BJoQFFI/AAAAAAAABpM/sFDLMJHbeJ0/s320/photo-774193.JPG" /></a></div></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-79038691812873401082011-03-30T10:35:00.000-04:002011-03-30T10:35:22.833-04:00"Thinking About You"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Thom Yorke, your voice oozes every emotion I've ever felt in my life.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/LXTyN2m8ZUQ" title="YouTube video player" width="400"></iframe></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-9298790072107915412011-03-14T14:18:00.001-04:002011-03-14T14:22:08.555-04:00The opportunity is now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dd4kjG0NBXo/TX5cQxMs78I/AAAAAAAABpA/QnHaN4XvPMY/s1600/photo-787329.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584002031140270018" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dd4kjG0NBXo/TX5cQxMs78I/AAAAAAAABpA/QnHaN4XvPMY/s320/photo-787329.JPG" /> </a></div><blockquote><div class="mobile-photo"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">—Taken by @inkedfingers on Instagram</span></span></i> </div></blockquote></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-9071195933079433352011-03-12T11:28:00.014-05:002011-03-14T14:20:33.099-04:00Toronto's very own Khao San Road<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="font-family: inherit;"><style>
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</style> <span style="font-size: small;">In Bangkok, Khao San Road is backpacker party central, making it a fitting name for the new Thai restaurant in Toronto’s own alcohol-soaked Entertainment district. But Chef Nuit Regular’s latest venture with her husband Jeff speaks more of wooden, mod urban temple than a 100-baht hostel bunk.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">This Khao San Road evokes Thailand’s street food and teleports me back to <a href="http://heatherjeanli.blogspot.com/search/label/Southeast%20Asia%202010">my own Southeast Asia adventure</a>, even with its contemporary white dish plating. Khao soi is a must: a traditional northern Chiang Mai noodle dish with tender beef cubes bathed in a tangy curry broth. More familiar fare is available too, including deep-fried garlic shrimp, chicken pad thai and daily Thai curries, all extraordinarily tasting of Regular’s land and love.</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;">Halal devotees of the original hole-in-the-wall <a href="http://www.sukhothaifood.com/" target="_blank">Sukhothai</a>, beware: she’s playing with fried pork belly here—but to pig eaters’ delight. Opened for lunch and dinner; stand by for the Thai breakfast introduction, which is sure to spice up the city’s typical bacon-and-Benny scene. <i>326 Adelaide St. W., 647-352-5773</i> (<a href="http://www.khaosanroad.ca/" target="_blank"><b>www.khaosanroad.ca</b></a>)</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9nfMS5qfVng/TXuZHyKa88I/AAAAAAAABn4/zcQwZuaAc1Q/s1600/khaoSOI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9nfMS5qfVng/TXuZHyKa88I/AAAAAAAABn4/zcQwZuaAc1Q/s320/khaoSOI.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b>Khao Soi $10</b>: Tender braised beef with egg noodles in a coconut milk-enriched curry and garnished with crisp fried noodles, green onion and a slice of lime</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VEnHHLAPQus/TXuZNKSItKI/AAAAAAAABn8/NMj7QLY9W4c/s1600/appSHRIMP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-VEnHHLAPQus/TXuZNKSItKI/AAAAAAAABn8/NMj7QLY9W4c/s320/appSHRIMP.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Garlic Shrimp $9</b>: Shrimp breaded in a crispy garlic coating served with a sweet and tangy garlic sauce</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-aYap6rElNf0/TXuZSfYhcnI/AAAAAAAABoA/tfLglK6k-_4/s1600/chickenPADTHAI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-aYap6rElNf0/TXuZSfYhcnI/AAAAAAAABoA/tfLglK6k-_4/s320/chickenPADTHAI.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Chicken Pad Thai $14</b>: Special pad thai "three flavours-style" topped with homemade roasted peanuts, dried chili and a fresh slice of lime</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ATMgdZWyoz8/TXuZdKDVqtI/AAAAAAAABoI/8A01ibY45UY/s1600/mainREDCURRY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-ATMgdZWyoz8/TXuZdKDVqtI/AAAAAAAABoI/8A01ibY45UY/s320/mainREDCURRY.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Gaeng Phed a.k.a. Thai Red Curry, Chicken for $12</b>: The red colour comes from a curry paste made of dried red chilies</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UxMapaTYXpk/TXuZXtHj0BI/AAAAAAAABoE/fbiA5dsc-6s/s1600/appSALAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-UxMapaTYXpk/TXuZXtHj0BI/AAAAAAAABoE/fbiA5dsc-6s/s320/appSALAD.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <b>Yum Ta Wai $8</b>: A salad of iceberg lettuce, cherry tomatoes, julienned vegetables, coriander, shredded chicken and a sliced hard-boiled egg, tossed in a sweet curry peanut dressing</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PgANRIyH2vg/TXuaAvs5yeI/AAAAAAAABoQ/G4Ldsr2wolY/s1600/mainNOODLES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PgANRIyH2vg/TXuaAvs5yeI/AAAAAAAABoQ/G4Ldsr2wolY/s320/mainNOODLES.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Pad Kee Mao, Shrimp $15</b>: Stir-fried rice noodle with fresh green chili, fresh garlic, long green pepper, bamboo shoots and Thai basil leaves</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mJySPKKBJsY/TXuZi6vE4qI/AAAAAAAABoM/pHL7jbfg4xM/s1600/ThaiICEDTEA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mJySPKKBJsY/TXuZi6vE4qI/AAAAAAAABoM/pHL7jbfg4xM/s320/ThaiICEDTEA.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Chai Yen a.k.a. Thai Iced Tea $4.50</b>: An infusion of Thai spices and black tea mixed with condensed milk (!) and served over crushed ice</span></div></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-57697529267776375892011-03-11T16:08:00.001-05:002011-03-11T16:09:07.984-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity.</span></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><i><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-small;">—Christopher Morley</span></i></blockquote></blockquote></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-36234562313820220512011-02-04T00:58:00.000-05:002011-02-04T00:58:58.751-05:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">If you are patient in one moment of anger, you will escape 100 days of sorrow.</span></span></blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">-Chinese Proverb</span></span> </span></span></div></blockquote></blockquote></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-55029648213089740032011-02-03T21:07:00.007-05:002011-05-08T01:26:03.917-04:00Portuguese Egg Tart in Singapore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUtfHis37VI/AAAAAAAABnY/aDb5IbLE3js/s1600/IMG_1965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUtfHis37VI/AAAAAAAABnY/aDb5IbLE3js/s320/IMG_1965.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Do I really need to say more?</div></div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-58880511021075827782011-02-03T00:04:00.001-05:002011-02-03T00:12:41.763-05:00Singapore's Airport Food (and a little family history)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I spent a lot of time in airports backpacking through Southeast Asia last year. But the first time I visited Singapore Changi International Airport was when my Uncle Edward and I picked up my cousin Sue Ann and her husband from a short trip to Bali, Indonesia. (I arrived in Singapore from Malaysia by train.)<br />
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I never met Sue Ann before and knew little about her. You see, my Uncle Edward is my father's first cousin but we didn't know any of them until just under 10 years ago when they found us in Toronto through the Internet—before Facebook or Twitter was ever an idea in any university techgeek's mind.<br />
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My grandmother's youngest sister was given away as a child (they grew up in Calcutta, India, which is another story to tell another day because I'm of Chinese descent) and apparently wound up being raised and getting married in Singapore. Her family and ours always knew of each other's existence but just had no idea where in the world we were. When we did discover our families, we had a big reunion in Toronto, considering most of my father's cousins live here. Ever since then, we've been family. Most of my aunts and dad have visited and stayed with my Uncle Edward in Singapore, and vice versa; and Sue Ann travelled to Toronto for the first time in her life this past Christmas.<br />
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It may seem unusual to be estranged for so many years then suddenly welcome each other in our homes but that's the power of family sometimes.<br />
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I was nervous to meet Sue Ann, as I would be with any new person in any setting. But it's a particularly curious feeling when you're thousands of kilometres away from home and asking near-strangers to give up their time to show you around. Luckily, my aunt from Toronto informed me that Sue Ann and I had two brilliant things in common—an insatiable love for food and a high metabolism to keep us tiny.<br />
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My first meal with Sue Ann didn't turn out to be at the airport—that will come later—but the brilliant thing about most, if not all Singaporeans is they love food.<br />
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That is why their version of airport food would of course be this:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUoyGYk2ceI/AAAAAAAABm8/tT4zo-Nwmt0/s1600/IMG_1947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUoyGYk2ceI/AAAAAAAABm8/tT4zo-Nwmt0/s320/IMG_1947.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This is referred to as "dry noodles," though to me the distinction between wet and dry noodles was not obvious at first. In my mind, dry noodles doesn't come with anything "wet," such as a sauce. But in Singapore, wet noodles means soupy noodles and dry noodles are indeed saucy. It's inspiring how simple and elegant noodles can be presented at an airport.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUoyLmqEcjI/AAAAAAAABnA/_3Oiv2Dxx_Q/s1600/IMG_1948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TUoyLmqEcjI/AAAAAAAABnA/_3Oiv2Dxx_Q/s320/IMG_1948.JPG" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was also introduced to tea with sweetened condensed milk that day. I've yet to recreate the concoction since returning home (it's almost been a year now!) but as I read on a younger cousin's Facebook profile, "Condensed milk makes everything better. I think it's the secret to world peace."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Undoubtedly it very well may be—and the hospitality of loved ones doesn't hurt either.</div><br />
</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-82020540177937494042010-12-12T19:44:00.000-05:002010-12-12T19:44:40.240-05:00Chicken Rice: Singapore's National DishChili crab, sting ray, oyster omlettes, beef noodles, spice, spice, spice! But Singapore's national dish comes down to simple chicken rice.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TQVr0tTEmeI/AAAAAAAABmg/-BRO1y8BBvQ/s1600/IMG_1899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TQVr0tTEmeI/AAAAAAAABmg/-BRO1y8BBvQ/s320/IMG_1899.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The chicken is steamed whole, then chopped and doused in a thin garlic, ginger gravy. Hot sauce optional.Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-48064325332714394302010-11-05T22:38:00.001-04:002010-11-06T00:17:07.950-04:00The original Sprinkles in Beverly Hills<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNS_ry-e2oI/AAAAAAAABmA/bI5X5J5f3EM/s1600/photo-718816.JPG"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNS_ry-e2oI/AAAAAAAABmA/bI5X5J5f3EM/s320/photo-718816.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536260601084304002" /></a></p>...Sprinkles is apparently the first ever cupcakes-only store. I sampled its chai tea latte cupcake and it was fabulous. Fluffy, moist cake; smooth tea-flavored frosting.<p>Whoever thought of the combination is a genius.Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-74566222288794176382010-11-05T02:22:00.004-04:002010-11-06T00:16:37.367-04:00Mexicali L.A. taco truck!<div class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNOitVweRzI/AAAAAAAABl4/Dgm6acRT7jY/s1600/photo-759890.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535947266786740018" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNOitVweRzI/AAAAAAAABl4/Dgm6acRT7jY/s320/photo-759890.JPG" /></a></div>...right across the street from my girlfriend's condo. They come out after 9 p.m. in a virtually empty parking lot and if you know, you know.<br />
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We had two corn tacos, one steak, one chicken; Cachetada, melted cheese and ground chorizo on a tostada; and the Zuperman, triple meat cheese quesadilla. Plus four kinds of homemade salsa and guacamole, and grilled onions and hot peppers.<br />
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This was the real Mexican deal... All costing US$10.50.<br />
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L.A. you have my heart.Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-11216333733186002292010-11-03T13:56:00.001-04:002010-11-05T02:28:57.612-04:00La-La-Land: Arda's Cafe<p class="mobile-photo"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNGiRctoj7I/AAAAAAAABlw/oz27CcMfaQk/s1600/photo-780138.JPG"><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/TNGiRctoj7I/AAAAAAAABlw/oz27CcMfaQk/s320/photo-780138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535383837664120754" /></a></p>... Woke up early and found a random family-run downtown breakfast eatery called Arda's Cafe, and had this delicious monstrosity -- candied bacon eggs Benedict (US$7.99). Perfectly soft poached egg, crispy sweet and salty bacon that wasn't too much of either, toasty chewy cheese bagel, and fried potatoes.<p>Great stumble-upon on Day 2 of random L.A. vacation.Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6921424568026259786.post-64719478866045010342010-11-02T06:03:00.001-04:002010-11-02T06:32:36.019-04:00Beef ball noodle soup, and sting ray!My cousin Agus took me to another hawker food centre that is well-known/famous for its simple noodle soup of beef balls and minced pork. <br />
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<img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/S12wODFZ_GI/AAAAAAAABK8/H4i01-MrMW8/s320/240.JPG" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My photos may not be the most appealing but it was dark and this is all I have. I liked this dish a lot but the minced pork in the bottom was a bit too soft for my tastes.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/S12wRDjMHeI/AAAAAAAABLE/esQaYPZXkrc/s1600-h/241.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tc0KNgJA1YE/S12wRDjMHeI/AAAAAAAABLE/esQaYPZXkrc/s320/241.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Agus also had me try stingray for the first time. The stingray tasted like a white fish, which I didn't mind, but the sauce on top of it wasn't very appealing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Travelling in Singapore and trying different species that rarely show up on North American menus was challenging for my eco-mindedness. I normally use Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood WATCH to choose sustainable options but stingray doesn't even come up on the list.</div>Heather Lihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00759834606075778224noreply@blogger.com0