The Day Itself

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoBirthdays have a way of announcing themselves before you're properly awake, and this one did exactly that — soto and tiramisu for breakfast, which is either a wildly eccentric pairing or a perfectly logical one, depending entirely on who's cooking. Anita had it all prepared before I'd fully surfaced, savoury and sweet sitting side by side on the table like two very different arguments that had somehow agreed to get along. It worked. It shouldn't have, on paper, but it did, and there's something rather lovely about a breakfast that refuses to explain itself.

Presents followed over the same table, which is my preferred way of doing these things — no ceremony, just things handed over between mouthfuls. Irfan's contribution was a Jellycat, the sort of plush absurdity that has no business being as charming as it is, and which I suspect will now take up permanent residence somewhere it has no practical reason to be. It's the kind of gift that says more than its price tag, chosen with a fondness that travelled rather further than London to get here.

Work didn't let the occasion pass unmarked either — more cake arrived through the day, the sort of low-key celebratory ambush that happens when colleagues remember a date you'd half hoped they'd forget, if only to spare you the candles. I didn't mind in the slightest. There's a particular kind of good cheer in being fussed over mildly rather than extravagantly, enough to feel noticed without being made to give a speech.

The day, in truth, was busier than I'd have liked for a birthday — celebrating in fits and starts between everything else that still needed doing, which meant very little in the way of video got captured. Birthdays and documentation don't always cooperate, and today they simply didn't; I was too occupied living it to film much of it, which is probably, on reflection, not the worst trade to make.

By evening, the day had earned its quiet close. Home, settled, nothing more asked of it than rest — which suited me entirely. I caught up with Star City, that strange and compelling corner of the For All Mankind universe, letting an alternate version of ambition and orbit play out on screen while my own feet stayed firmly on the ground for once. A fitting way to let a birthday wind down, watching people reach for the stars while I reached for very little beyond the remote.

The weekend ahead has more meals lined up already, which feels appropriate — birthdays in this house have a way of refusing to stay confined to a single date, spilling generously into the days either side of it. No complaints here. Forty-odd years in, and the soto-and-tiramisu logic still tracks: some pairings simply work because the people making them care enough to try.

The Birthday That's Waiting

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoIt's Idlan's birthday today, though you wouldn't know it from the celebrations — or rather, the deliberate absence of them. He's decided to hold off until next week when Irfan is back from London, which is either admirably patient or a shrewd negotiation for two rounds of attention. Either way, there's something rather lovely about a birthday that insists on being complete before it begins. The cake can wait. The brother cannot.

I started rounds early, the kind of Saturday morning where you're in and moving before the hospital has fully woken up. There's a stillness to weekend wards that weekdays never quite manage — fewer footsteps, fewer phones, the corridors carrying a different quality of quiet. Everything done and dusted in good time, which left me free for a nine o'clock meeting at the Amari Hotel.

The meeting room had a view that included, somewhat surreally, our apartment. There's a peculiar feeling in looking out of a conference window and being able to identify your own balcony. You're simultaneously at work and, in some visual sense, at home. The meeting itself ran through until lunch — one of those extended sessions that covers enough ground to justify the hours but still leaves you feeling like you've run a gentle marathon. By the time it wrapped, the tiredness I'd been outrunning all week finally caught up.

A nap. Unapologetic and necessary. I gave myself over to it completely, the kind of early afternoon sleep that feels almost medicinal. And then, as if the city had been waiting for me to close my eyes, the rain came. Properly, emphatically, in that way KL does when it decides to remind you that this is still the tropics. Heavy sheets of it against the windows, the sound both dramatic and oddly soothing. You don't fight rain like that. You just let it have its say.

Once it eased, we drove out to Melawati for the pasar malam. Saturday evening markets have their own particular magic — the smoke from the grills, the clusters of people moving slowly between stalls, the impossible variety of things you didn't know you wanted until they were right in front of you. We browsed, we bought, we did what you do at a pasar malam, which is essentially eat your way from one end to the other with varying degrees of restraint.

Then the phone rang. An admission, because the day wasn't quite finished with me yet. Back in I went, the evening rearranging itself around the call. These things happen, and you learn not to resent them — or at least to keep the resentment brief and productive.

Dinner was late but the mood was chilled. The house quiet, the rain a memory, the weekend still with one full day remaining. Idlan's uncelebrated birthday hovering gently in the background, a promise deferred. Next week, when the family is whole again, we'll do it properly.

That Padwan Cake

Mama Min had delivered again. We first found out about her almost 10 years ago while celebrating Idlan's first birthday. She prepared a barnyard cake through our party planner and since then she had been our go to person for birthday party.

Her creation had been constantly amazing, not just to look at. They tasted great too - it was Oreo chocolate this time. Over the years, we had a "Little Einstein Cake" for Irfan and "R2-D2" for Idlan.

This time around, Irfan wanted a Star Wars-themed event for his classmate party. And Mama Min came out with the best one yet. The cake was topped with Irfan in a Padwan suit, complete with his blue-framed glasses. And it looked so much like him!

Idlan had already been planning for his 12th birthday in May. It would be just before Ramadan, and best to start panning nning from now. It looked like Mama Kim's service might be called for again! Best to finalise the theme first.

Low Key Birthday

Idlan turned 11 yesterday and this time we didn't prepare any real party for him. He wasn't really. Keen although he did ask for a cake when he woke up yesterday.

Luckily, a quick call to my sister sorted that out and in the afternoon, we set off to Kajang for dinner and of course the cakes, celebrating it with his cousins.

Nothing fancy. He already got his birthday present the evening before. Maybe we would have lunch with his grandparents later on Sunday...

As for the rest of the day, we didn't do much especially with the rain outside. He also preferred to stay in and play with his cousins.

Cake at Jaslyn's

I had to do some errands around Bangsar Village after work on Friday, and after that was done we went straight for a spot of tea. Walking back from the bank, we passed by a cute little cafe called Jaslyn Cakes along Jalan Telawi.

Just a small little shop, mainly selling cakes and coffee as the name suggested. Small seating area but cosy enough.

Not many seats inside

Not many items on the menu, variety of coffee but when it came to food, only what was on the counter was available.

The tea was served in nice little teapots. And the cake was nice enough. But to be honest, it wasn't as nice as I was hoping for. Pretty basic and the price - more than RM30 for a pot of tea, a cup of latte and a slice of cake, it was certainly excessive. I could understand it if the coffee blew my mind, but not this time.

Not coming to visit anytime soon unfortunately. ‎