It all started with my usual pilgrimage to the bakery and a coincidental run-in with a ginger juice shots.
Okay. Some context here: ever since New York, I’ve been borderline obsessed with ginger shots (like shots, but with a little more burn and a lot more health). So when my eyes caught sight of those shots in EGA, I went right for them.
That’s pretty much the story of how I was introduced to EGA (and bossman Sumit).
Let's get straight to the point here, shall we? The Lunar New Year holidays are nearly over, and right now, it feels like Sunday night, when you're simultaneously dreading and waiting for Monday to come. I'm bored and sluggish, my laptop is, and you probably are, too. What better way is there to spend it than putting the finishing touches on this post which has, admittedly, been dawdling away in my drafts section as a half-formed shadow of its current self?
Anyhoo, here it is. Finally - the long-awaited product after weeks of me sitting on it, finally seeing daylight.
Not too long ago, I swore up and down, left and right, that I had renounced kinfolk and anything else which attempted to mimic its monochromatic, minimalistic vibe. As the magazines piled up issue by issue, I found myself questioning the values of wabi-sabi and virtues of slow living it extolled. Would decluttering one's wardrobe really declutter the mind? Was the mind as chaotic as a teenager's room, to begin with? What was once creditable became idealistic, and what were once textbooks for the ideal lifestyle became a glorified, expensive stack of books.
Still, this whole all-white, all-clean manifesto continued to flourish - establishments so colorless that one wondered if the owner simply bought up all the white furniture at the store, marble-this, marble-that, magazines with more white space than content. To this all, I turned up my nose to. After all, as a by-product of the 21st century, I was firmly anti-hipster, wasn't I? Look! No square-framed black glasses, or belly-baring ensembles, or whatever the kids are doing these days.
I've never been a big believer in Chance (with the capital C), but the past two weeks have done much to alter that mindset. I mean, what are the odds of running into a yoga instructor at a cafe (none other than Punch), meeting someone you know from Instagram at said cafe later in the week, and then again encountering that very same yoga teacher the following week?
These are some of the major things that I've been thankful for lately. I seldom verbalize thankful, at the risk of sounding hokey, but I am. I'm truly grateful and thankful for all these things around me, from the opportunities I've been offered, to the little things, like having friends who care, psychedelic pink sunrises, and servers who specially make you porridge though its not on the menu (again, Punch).
It's been a bit of a rough patch for me lately, and to everyone who's been there for me in some way or another, thank you. It means the world and beyond.
This one has been waiting in the wings for quite some time, but I assure you, it might just be the best yet. I've made good use of September break mornings to head out to these spots for one last round of granola tasting (before the exams are upon us). Some, like Populus, do it only on weekdays, while Punch, Super Loco and Club Street Social, have theirs on weekends. Then again, it's a good idea to be part of the Breakfast Club and grab a friend or two to make the weekend more meaningful. Breakfast Clubbing solo isn't a bad idea either, when the service is good, ambiance is good, and washroom soap is good, too. (Having good washroom soap is one of the best indicators of where an eatery stands, in my opinion)
So do enjoy this one. I had tons of food and fun coming up with it.