It's weeks like these that remind me what a wonderful place KL is.

Let's start with Belgian waffles. From Cafe 5 @ Pudu. Nigel went for the "Murakami" option (the one with the bonito flakes and takoyaki sauce). I'm a sweet waffle person, so I ordered plain ones with durian ice-cream. The waffles have a great texture (not too crisp, not too doughy) and, well, durian ice-cream speaks for itself.

There are no photos because my stupid phone decided not to take any. Go figure. It takes unwanted photos of pavements with gay abandon, but despite a button twice pressed, there are no photos of my waffles.

The Deepavali holiday saw us in Sarawak's Bowl, where we feasted on the extraordinarily nice Sarawak Laksa that they've named after somebody's Uncle Liew.

Malaysia also supplied the gula melaka, the jackfruit, and the coconut for a really fantastic fusion dessert. Let me contextualize. Acme, at Pavilion, can provide you with a very palatable chicken salad and a stupendous glass of New Zealand pinot gris. Then, to follow, you can share a "sizzling brownie". It was a blondie, actually, served in a hot skillet. It came topped with jackfruit sorbet and toasted coconut, and the sizzle was supplied by a poured-over gula melaka sauce that the heat reduces to a wonderful caramel. Delectable.

And Malaysia supplied the cats at Masjid Jamek. Or at least Malaysians did, at the instigation of Think City. Great idea. Let's put cats EVERYWHERE.









The Danish experience came from The Commune, the first of this year's European Film Festival choices. A sad movie. Set in the sad 70s, with no-longer-young, not-unproblematic characters coming together in a communal life that on the one hand has its fun moments but on the other certainly seems to accelerate the disintegration of the central couple's marriage. Low-key, but kind of haunting.

Venezuela got two cracks this week. The first was in the form of El Mais, a Venezuelan restaurant not far from Bukit Nanas. We had arepas, which are cornbread pockets stuffed with a variety of tasty items. (Mine was the "pabellon", which contained pulled beef, black beans, avocado, and fried plantains, and came with a very nice salsa verde.) To accompany this, you can order a refreshing blend of sugarcane and lime juice (papelon con limon), and to finish off, what you need is coffee and the thoroughly decadent tres leches cake (this version comes in an individual ramekin).



Carlos Silva, a Venezuelan tenor, carried the first half of our MPO concert this week. He has a very pleasing voice, and there's no doubt that Nessun dorma is best experienced live. The second half was Tschaikovsky's 4th Symphony. Fate versus dreams; fatal force versus hopes of happiness. I guess Venezuela could empathize with that, too.

Japan manifested itself in the form of a dance/drama. Entitled People Without Seasons, and conceived by Un Yamada, a Japanese dancer/choreographer who says she likes to proffer questions rather than answers, the performance brings together Japanese and Malaysian dancers, and a broad range of dance-styles and music. It is based on a Japanese novel by Shugoro Yamamoto, called A Town Without Seasons, about post-World War II slum-dwellers in Japan. The sets and costumes are inspired by a visit to Kota Kinabalu, because one of the Malaysian dancers commented that the place portrayed in the Japanese version of the dance reminded him of his home town.

The kampung that comes to life in the performance is rundown yet vibrant. I won't pretend to understand the nuance, but the overall impression -- of people busily living their lives, complete with quarrels, games, work, and self-expression -- came over very clearly.

Yamamoto: "Even while suffering, keep working, and do not seek for a place to live in peace; this world is a pilgrimage."