Something strange has happened to the loaf that was so good you could apparently eat it on its own! I used to use it for croutons at home, as the rather high sugar content made for a yummy and lasting fried crust. I would to stack the stuff up three slices high and then just cut it with a knife and separate the dice. NO MORE! The scientists (mad, no doubt) at the loaf that dare not speak its name have softened the texture of the thing to absolute vanishing point. If you cut the three slices now, or even just give them a weighty look, they compress to a sheet so thin and inseparable, it can only be explained by the advent of nanotechnology.

The only other explanation: The loaf does not actually exist at all. It is merely a loaf shaped plastic bag filled with the idea of bread, sent directly to neurotransmitters in the brain. Is that the reason why you can eat as much of it as you like and still never feel satiated? Because in fact, you’re not really eating anything!!! It’s scary.

What’s even scarier is that this thing that doesn’t exist has the same calories as real bread. Remember real bread? Two slices and a sliver of cheese used to make you feel full for hours? Coal miners used to take two or three sandwiches down the pit and it would sustain them through to their supper. What has happened to real bread? Did it disappear when the last local baker got eaten up by the big bread factory? The other question is: Do people actually like this type of bread without substance or flavour? And if so, who ARE these people?? And why are they making my bread a misery???

What brought us to the bread that isn’t? Is there really a demand for a supersoft loaf (other than from the decrepit and the dentally handicapped) or is this demand created by the bread industry for nefarious reasons? All our Frangipani customers (except one) tell us how much they enjoy our comparatively dense bread made simply of flour water and yeast (one tablespoon each of salt and sugar are added for flavour and to feed the yeast), so can the same people really go home and eat the imaginary loaf with relish? I don’t think so. Granted, a real loaf will be a little more expensive, but then you will need a lot less of it.

Your task for today is to go out and seek a real loaf. The crust should be crunchy, the crumb should be dense, but not gluey, and you should NOT be able to compress the whole loaf into a lump the size of a golf ball!

One thing I really like about Sunday mornings is the deserted streets. Most of the time, you have the whole width and breadth of jalan Ampang to yourself. Wind down the window, breathe the fresh KL air, enjoy the fact that it’s not yet 45° in the shade and cruise along at leisure. Well, almost… This morning, as I was waiting at the traffic lights, where Ampang crosses Tun Razak, a souped-up Proton drew up next to me, its engine revving, its exhaust thundering impressively (especially considering that this car is propelled by a 1.2l engine). This Super Proton was rocking back and forth, the driver too nervous and too geared up to apply the brakes, impatient to shoot forward, down Jln Ampang at breakneck speed… As the car inched onto the pedestrian crossing (hey, we don’t really have pedestrians in KL anyway, do we? Do we??), I looked across.

And here, dear friends, allow me to digress just a little. We all have a bit of a racist streak in us, so most of you will already be thinking of one race or another, piling on the stereotypes and the penile shortcomings (for one thing is certain, this is not going to be a girl!), but let me tell you: When it comes to souping up miniscule cars and driving them like a pocket-sized Schumacher, One Malaysia has truly been achieved!

But that was not the point. As I gazed across, happily content on the after-effects of half a Xanax the night before, I saw that the guy was about sixty-five years old. Now that was a shock! I mean, to be 25, even 30 and to dress your Kancil up like a Dinky Toy Lamborghini is one thing, but to be doing it when you should be pottering in the garden after finishing the Times crossword puzzle is quite another. Just driving around in the thing, I could understand. He might have borrowed it from his no-good, sure-to-end-up-in-jail son after his Avanza broke down, but here the pathetic twit (replace letter if you like) was proudly showing off his illegal, third rate body kit, behaving like he was at Le Mans, it was ridiculous!

Just as I was thinking these mature thoughts, the lights changed to green and I had just enough time to switch my gear to manual, floor the accelerator and shoot past the guy with my tyres screaming, pathetic loser that he was…

I’ve been thinking about whether or not to share this with anyone. There is, you see, a little nasi lemak place high on the hill above KL and, well, it’s really good. And I mean REALLY good. So good, in fact that you can find me trekking all the way out there several times a month to have breakfast and believe me, this is not just around the corner: Take the elevated highway to the very end of it, all the way out to Ampang. Continue past Ampang village and on past Ampang waterfront (that place, by the way, is worth a blog of its own) and on and on. Turn right in the direction of the only landmark to be found, i.e. the Carrefour desecrating… Come to think of it, there really wasn’t anything to desecrate.

Now comes the tricky bit. You pass a few dull intersections and then you have to turn left to ascend the hill. If you’re not familiar with the area (and let’s face it, why the hell should you be, there really is nothing there) you’ll have to be careful not to miss the turn. Up and up you go, heading towards Hulu Langat, singing “Climb every Mountain” fabulously out of tune and there, just at the top, on your right, you see what looks like a DBKL interpretation of a public toilet for tourists (half of it actually IS a public toilet for tourists) and here you have reached Walhalla.

I know you’re going to question my nasi lemak judgement, so I would like to insert a few quotes from local friends unbiased by the fact that I got up at seven in the morning to pick them up from their homes, drove them for miles while making interesting conversation and then bought them the very nasi lemak they are now gobbling up, only to drive them all the way to work after that. Quotes: “Wow”; “Damn Siok”; “When are we coming back here?” – See???

And what makes it so good? The rice is lemak, the ayam goreng is freshly gorenged, the sambal is not too sweet and the whole thing is better than the sum of its delicious parts. In short, like the nasi lemak of my youth, misspent as it may have been. But seriously, don’t just take my word for it, this place is open daily and I think it nasi lemaks from 7:30 to 11:00am. Go early, climb the hill behind the warung and enjoy the view while you’re at it. And remember, climbing the hill after your nasi fix will consume one tenth of one percent of the calories you just stuffed into yourself. But then, some things are just really, really worth getting fat for.

After years And years of daily gym visits I have at last figures out the secret to great looking abs (see picture for proof). Well, they’re not actually my abs, but I’m convinced they could be. Mine are actually not bad, though a good deal hairier than those pictured. It’s not exactly a six-pack, more like a three and a half pack, but hey, you take what you get.

The other day, I was driving down the road, studiously avoiding public transport and when I stopped at a red light (very unlike some of said public transport), there was a bus standing beside me. I’m not normally shocked by the sight of dilapidation, in fact, I quite like a spot of squalor every now and again, but this!!! was something else. There was recently talk of making everyone get their old cars tested for roadworthiness, so I wondered how this sad excuse for a bus would have fared.

Here’s my question: Can we really not do better than this?? Let’s wash the twin towers just every second time, let’s plant shrubs instead flowers along the roads, let’s charge ten cent more for every highway (if we must) and let’s use the money to change the public transport system from a disintegrating one to one that you might actually want to use even though you have the money for a motorbike (or even a car).