OMFG -- A Spore Food Experience

It's been a month already that I've been in the beautiful city of Singapore and I've fallen in love. Totally and helplessly head over heels, butterflies in my stomach, deeply breathy sighs and all that other good stuff that only happens during the first heavenly months. Nope, I'm not talking about some charming expat, but with all the amazingly beautiful FOOD. I'm not surprised, I've always loved Asian food (and Italian, and Japanese, and French...it's a wonder I'm still beanpole-esque) -- but my gastronomic experience here has really been something else. (If any of my bookers are reading this let me add that I've also been hitting the gym everyday and everything has been in moderation!)

Toronto definitely has an amazing food scene as well, and has cemented itself as a main food hub in Canada with exquisite specialty eateries such as the Hoof Cafe (meats and organs put into every dish) and high-end established experiences like Canoe. However, quite simply speaking, Toronto's opening of a highly buzzed-about restaurant every couple months just cannot compare to the on-going food experience that exists continually across the ocean. Singapore does not just have specialty restaurants; it has world-class hotels hosting a menagerie of drool-worthy and exquisitely decorated restaurants, it has chain fast-food places like those in America only spic and span and impossibly efficient, there are street delights made accessible via franchises that sell "sanitized" versions of local food and then there are the local food stands themselves, which are, in my opinion, the best and dirtiest food in the city.

Hakka food, as it's called, is local delights prepared by Singaporeans and sold in stands and mini-food courts the city over. These bustling markets host goodies such as the famed chicken rice (rice cooked in chicken-infused oil then served with the chicken itself, marinated cucumbers, broth and an assortment of sauces), salted pork with preserved mustard greens over rice, bean curd with fish paste and chillies, tropical fruit drinks such as iced lychee water with the actual fruits as well, papaya tapioca drinks and the desserts....ohhhh the desserts! The hakka desserts are simply to die for when it comes to a sweet-toothed person like myself. These treats are in the style of traditional Chinese desserts (think sweet pastes and glutinous consistencies as opposed to puffy pastries and fluffy cakes) and include tropical fruits which make for dessert heaven. Fresh mangoes over shaved ice with sweet jellies, sweetened peanut paste inside rice dough with shredded coconut sprinkled on top, and lotus seed paste inside rich flaky dough are a few of the popular choices at hakka stands. The desserts here are unique confections and as much as I search for suffice counterparts in Toronto, I just can't seem to find them. (Markham is the closest there is and come on -- it's going to take more than desserts for me to haul my bum to Markham.)

Singapore also boasts a detailed infrastructure that allows for it to host a bevy of beautiful dining places. The smartly architecturally-planned city has more pristine mega-malls than all of Canada combined it seems, the wide streets are lined with hotel after hotel and interesting facade after interesting facade. I had drinks the other night in a bar over water surrounded by sculptures and no one, except for me seemed to be stunned by my surroundings! In a sense, that's where Toronto has Singapore beat; in exclusivity. There are just so many decor-savvy and impeccable-serviced choices here that Singaporeans and expats alike barely blink an eye when they enter, say the exquisite lobby of the historical Fullerton hotel where I recently had a mouthwatering sushi lunch. Torontonians in the know, on the other hand, flock to whatever new hotspot with a pseudo-celebrity mogul name attached that opens. Oh, that's hardly a jab at my lovely hometown -- you pretentious darlings know exactly what I'm talking about, there's nothing like the glitz and glam of a properly marketed event. That's where our dear city wins. I was having a lychee martini one night on the 55th floor of an immaculate hotel bar when a bunch of messy rascals ran by me and just like some one had cut the music, the mood was gone. Nothing like kids to take the sparkle out of all things glittery. Don't get me wrong, children are adorable -- just not when I have a martini in hand.

Buffet dinner at the Mandarin Hotel! 

All in all, it's a good thing I have an amazing metabolism because the cuisine here is exotic, exquisite and just to die for. Between the local hakka food, ritzy five-star dinners and my limited-time access to chains they have here that we don't in Canada (um, get in my belly Carl's Jr. thick burger and fries!) it's been a journey and a half for me in getting to know the city through its food. I was having dinner with my dear friend Jeff Rustia the other night -- the famed black-pepper crab -- as the waiter brought over deep fried bread to soak up the delectable sauce. I'll pass on to you, bloggees, the same advice I said to Jeff as he tried to turn down the deep-fried goodness that awaited us: Shut up and enjoy it. Where ever you are lovelies, bon apetite!
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OMFG - Modelizers galore..

After being here just over two weeks I've encountered many new species: the incredibly large and scary flying bugs that whiz in and out of my apartment via the open balcony, the screeching tropical bird which wakes me up every morning that, although I know it's probably rare and endangered, I just want to shoot, and then there's the most fascinating species of all -- modelizers. Oh, sure, we have our share of mild modelizers in Toronto -- men that enjoy the company of leggy waifs hanging around King West and pursue them here and there and whatnot but over here, at least from what I've seen, it's not just for sport -- it's a downright profession.

With so many girls here who are depending on modeling to give them a better life, I guess it's no surprise that it's like shooting fish in a barrel for men who have oodles of money (or enough to pretend they have oodles) to come in and sweep them off their feet with dinners, trips, purses and hey -- maybe even a little affection. I've had dinner with more than my share of modelizers and to hear them talk about us models like pieces of meat really ("Oh, this agency gets all the good blondes. She had good legs, bad teeth though. Unfortunate." That's so not what's unfortunate about that sentence, buddy.) is something I choose to view as entertaining. Yes, they're condescending and arrogant but likely sad little men as well so I make the best of such situations and humor this amusing breed of (not-so) gentlemen. (I also end up befriending modelizers because it's apparent one drink into dinner that they're not getting in my pants.) Men that want to be surrounded by beautiful women always isn't surprising really, I mean sex makes the world go round and round after all (sorry love and money) -- what's surprising to me is how willing all these girls are to latch onto some dude they barely know. Coming from a fairly well-off family in Canada I guess I can't really relate to not having a backup plan in life but to see fourteen year olds throw themselves at men old enough to be my dad -- well it's just kind of gross. Okay sure, maybe I'm being unsympathetic; what if they came from a hard life and have parents who are ill and blah blah blah but honestly if you're some chick who wants to whore themselves out via their looks to get the good life, well don't expect much sympathy from anyone! Like jeez, go to school or something! Brains. They're in our heads for a reason.

Snideness aside, the situation is what it is and oh goodness, it's just downright hilarious sometimes. While enjoying tapas and martinis the other night, one modelizer friend of mine expressed his disdain for a girl who outright asked for a designer bag during lunch with him. "I mean, can you believe that?!" he had exclaimed. That's the fine line of modelizing; even though the girls are acutely aware of their status as status symbols, it's in bad taste to actually acknowledge it...subtleties also make the world go round if you ask me. It's a whole industry where decisions are made on nuances so why should the sex associated with it be any different? These girls are girlfriends to the men they're with, and are expected to act appropriately. Sometimes it's like watching a father with his daughter who just was taught how to act like a lady post-Cotillion or something....i.e.hilarious. 


I'm sure some of these pairings turn into lasting unions, and good for the ones that do, but for the rest of the girls out there who are looking to latch their legs onto something better than what they came from; it's a mess waiting to happen. Even the savviest of femme fatales are bound to feel used (and really, how much of a femme fatale can one be as a teenager?) or worse. A modelizer's motto likely something along the lines of "why fuck the girl in the skirt when you can fuck the girl modeling the skirt?" -- well ladies, or more like girls, why fuck the man with the money when you fuck some one who actually likes you for you? Exactly.
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OMFG - so far in Singapore

A little while ago I showed up bleary-eyed and horribly disoriented to what appeared to be a building for Church housing in the middle of Singapore. After more than twenty hours in the air and three layovers (One which included having ten minutes to run from one side of Dulles in Washington to the other in order to catch my next flight. Might I add that this run included four moving walkways, about six escalators and a shuttle. Really guys? Really?) and a couple pills which helped make the journey bearable, I was skeptical that this building was where I was going to call home for the next couple months. Ten days later and I'm sitting here on the couch of my surprisingly spacious model apartment feeling very much at home; something I rarely find I feel when I travel. (It turns out the bottom floor of the building is indeed for Church housing but the top floors are just apartments. "Sexy as hell models pouring out of a Church building! It's bloody brilliant!" is how my charmingly dazed British landlord described the situation to me.)

Singapore has welcomed me with open arms and I couldn't think of a better city for me to visit alone for the first time. I've been lucky enough to of traveled quite a lot so far in my life: pretty extensively with my family while growing up, a couple trips here and there with friends and a fair bit of traveling with significant others who are no longer significant, but I've never actually traveled alone somewhere totally foreign to live. I'm someone who believes in destiny; that everything happens for a reason and that this opportunity came to me in a my life at this exact time has proved to be perfect timing. Toronto was driving me insane to put it lightly; it's a city I'll always love but I just felt like after my break-up, it was time to break-up with Toronto for a little bit as well. Everything was reminding me of something or the other and I felt like I just needed to fuck off and be anonymous for a couple months. Fortunately modeling gave me the chance to fly half way across the world on some one else's dime and I couldn't be happier.

Obvious superficial details aside (being that Singapore is spotlessly clean, beautifully designed, easy to navigate and endlessly entertaining...oh and they have Topshop here! I may or may not have squealed and done a little dance in the mall when I spotted the store sign glowing from afar...) this trip has meaning to me in that I feel its purpose is bigger than just simply to be in a couple magazines or runway shows. What that purpose is, I won't know until the trip is over and some time has passed but so far it seems that being independent; in a physical and emotional sense is something I had never really learned to do in its entirety before. I cherish my friendships and family more than anything, but to be all the way here without any crutches to lean on and not be mopey about it has been refreshingly liberating. I don't know that if I had taken this trip any earlier whether I would be as happy as I am here now. Actually, I can guarantee that I would be missing some one, or everyone really. Big changes in our personal lives, as perpetually hard as they feel while going through them, only usher in new phases that we needed to go through to become stronger. I look over the last couple months of my life and everything that's happened to me, both good and bad, have led to this trip happening and for that, I'm thankful. I realize it now and can let go of some of the negative feelings I had held on to for far too long because what triggered them happened for a reason; for personal progress.

Being 23 and modeling in another city is entirely a different experience than if I was still in my teens. It's an interesting scene here with many young girls coming from nothing in Eastern Europe or Brazil and to see how they cling onto modelizing men is amusing to say the least. I don't feel like I have to accomplish much here other than learning to be happy with myself being alone. Making decent money from jobs will be great, and I'm not worried about that because I'm pretty confident I'll work well here, but as far as making the rounds in the model social scene - -I'm just not feeling the urge to at all. I love to party but after a couple nights out talking in baby English to stick figures who barely can put together sentences and men who call me "baby" after meeting me for five minutes; well honestly I just rather be doing anything else. Besides, with Singapore's insanely strict laws against anything that makes parties where you don't know too many people fun, I think I'll save my partying for a side trip to Thailand or Hong Kong! This is my Eat/Pray/Love trip thus far and I'm loving the calmness and detox aspect of it so far. With the exception of ciggies, I've barely had so much as a glass of wine here and it feels lovely.

I'm only ten days into my three month long journey and I'm sure the unexpected will occur as it inevitably does...in the mean time however I'm finding that my week and a bit of a low-key existence in the sun has done what a summer in Toronto couldn't. The large black Samsonite I flew with is all the baggage I intend to carry back with me at the end of this trip...and I can feel the load lightening already.

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