Time Well Kept

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoAnother hazy start, though I’ve given up reporting on it as news. The haze is simply furniture now, like the wardrobe you keep meaning to replace. The morning itself, though, was smooth again. Two in a row. I’m treating it with the cautious respect one gives a cat that has suddenly decided to sit on your lap. Don’t move. Don’t make a fuss. Let it happen.

First order of business was setting up the new timer at the clinic. I’ll admit I expected the novelty to wear off by mid-morning, the way most clever gadgets end up as expensive paperweights by the end of the week. It didn’t. Something about seeing the minutes physically run down sharpened things. Less drifting, fewer half-finished thoughts, no reaching for the phone to check something that didn’t need checking. I’m slightly annoyed it works this well, because it means the problem was never a lack of time. It was me. A small box has politely pointed this out, and I’ve chosen to take it on the chin.

The morning clinic was busy, properly busy, the sort where you only notice your coffee has gone cold when you reach for it and it tastes of regret. But it moved. Focus does that. A full morning feels very different when you’re in it rather than being dragged along behind it.

Lunch was at Upstairs Cafe, which I’d earned, or at least I told myself so. The pasta was good. Not life-changing, not something I’ll describe to strangers, just honestly good, which I think is underrated. We’ve become a little obsessed with food that has to be extraordinary, plated like modern art and photographed before it’s tasted. I’d take a well-made bowl of pasta, eaten while it’s still hot, over a deconstructed anything. There’s dignity in a dish that simply does its job.

The afternoon slipped by quietly, and the evening followed suit. A quiet night is a fine thing after a day that asked a lot. No plans, no particular agenda, just the low hum of the house and the faint suspicion I should be doing something more productive.

Which, naturally, I then did. Lectures to sort. There’s always a lecture somewhere on the horizon, waiting like a dentist’s appointment you booked months ago in a fit of optimism. I opened the slides with the usual mixture of good intentions and mild dread. I’m one of those people who believes I work best under pressure, while knowing perfectly well that’s a story procrastinators tell themselves. So I got a head start. Not finished, not even close, but begun, which is half the battle and considerably less than half the work.

It occurs to me the timer might help here too. I may need to buy a third.

Perhaps not. Two timers is a system. Three is a personality.

Visiting Miss Ellie

On one of those rare occasion when I managed to escape from the hospital early, Anita suggested that we try one of her favourite cafe which she normally go to with her friends. It was a unique one, Miss Ellie Tea House at Taman Melawati. But looking at the outside, you would never have thought that the inside looked so cosy. So, I indulged her.

And pleasantly surprised I was.

Keep calm ....Nice hat ....Wouldn't mind this being my living room ....The decor was exquisite and very English. And the food was heavenly. We started with scones but the main I had pasta. Not exactly English, but the pasta was just amazing!

Let’s start with the decor. The place was not big. It had about half a dozen of tables, with a row of sofa for the casual diners. The lighting was homely and they had tit bits from the Old English adorning the walls. A few months back, my boys and their classmate made their way in much to the horror of the owner as the boys were like …. boisterous. I could share her concern as most of the decorative elements there were on the fragile site. The sideboards were antiques and the china were also proper.

Everything was freshly made at the cafe, from the pasta, to the jam for the scones. The coffee was freshly grounded and the tea was just superb.

The portion for each of the meals was large enough to satisfy, but small enough to make you ask for more. I went for the most difficult pasta to prepare, which was the pesto. And it turned out a delight. The pasta was dry enough not to go soggy when immersed into the sauce, while retaining it grainy texture and taste, while the tomatoes and vegetables tasted fresh and succulent. I just wished that the parmesan which they used had a bit more bite to it. As it was, I just felt that there was something missing. Not a complaint though, just me being fussy.

Iced coffee?Sharing them scones. And these are proper ones ....Time for the pestoPesto no more ....I had a cold-brewed coffee as it was a hot afternoon. Again, can’t fault the preparation. Well blended and not too bitter.

The place was half full even on a week day afternoon. I don’t think that they could have coped if the cafe was situated in a more affluent area such as Bangsar or Taman Tun. The sheer number of patrons would make them lose the homeliness and ambiance. I was just happy as it was, and being in the middle of almost nowhere, parking was a doodle. They are closed on Sundays and Mondays though.

Please check out their website for more details and directions to the place. I would definitely be going there again from time to time. I might try something else next time …..