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Bits & Pieces


The Last Supper - Meals so heavenly, they’re to die for.
It is prudent never to rest on one’s laurels, as the only certainty in life - apart from death - is uncertainty.
And whilst most of us will dodge the dubious honour of being privy to the proverbial last meal, there are a very few amongst us who won’t, which beggars the question: on the penultimate day of your life, wouldn’t you choose
to exit stage left on something a little more satiating to the palate than McJunk Food - specifically a cheeseburger and fries - reportedly the most popular choice of final meals among inmates on death row?


Remains Of The Entrée - Main courses are falling off course and that’s not appetising.
In the golden age of the celebrity chef and Michelin-starred restaurants, the original reason diners
went to restaurants in the first place - to eat and be satiated by said act - has been unceremoniously cast aside. It is now more likely than not that diners are compelled to join an unthinkably long waitlist in order to be dazzled by the prodigious skills of cooking’s Next Big Thing, rather than to leave with bellies filled with honest, earnest food.


Feeding Of The Five Thousand - You’ll need a miracle to serve everyone with just 
five loaves and two fishes - or you can go with the paella.
Cooking for the single beloved one requires panache, cunning and planning. But nothing spells largesse quite the
same as being the person who is intrepid (or foolish) enough to serve food en masse.The magnitude of this gesture
won’t be lost on your family, collegues or friends - “Did you attend Joe’s pool party? The food was mind blowing and he 
made it all himself!” - and if executed competently, will earn you sufficient kudos to dine out on for many moons. 
That’s not to mention the obvious fact that you’ll also avert the tedium of hosting dinner parties for quite some time to 
come. Obviously.



The Only Thing’ In' - Fay Khoo refuses to join the ranks of the unfaithful
Here’s the funny thing: for an issue that I used to feel very strongly about, fidelity just doesn’t figure so high on my 
priority list of virtues to practise these days. It’s almost as if, thanks to the cumulative sum of my experiences and to 
the world at large, I just can’t bring myself to have faith that it actually exists at all.


Her Parents, Your Trial - More often than not, to get the girl, you’ll have to impress her folks
I was introduced to someone recently who, though he didn’t exactly blow me out of the water with his rapier wit or sparkling personality, did lead me to deduce a thought that had me reeling backwards with mental panic. Bemused? Let me elucidate:

Is It Really The Thought That Counts? - Give from the heart, not the wallet
As the yuletide season - ahh the joys of giving! - approaches, I am reminded of the politics of gift giving and how there’s really no such thing as a present without strings tied all around it. Let me illustrate: On the occasion of his beloved new wife’s birthday, that lecherous old scoundrel Michael Douglas gave Catherine a £60,000 sapphire and diamond necklace. For his birthday - which falls on the same day as hers - wifey, all a-glitter with her new bauble, gave him a framed photo of his sons.


Bringing Home The Bacon - Ahhh, Bacon.
There’s nothing quite like the salty crunch of it to decimate age barriers and to bring a big oily smile to the face. And while the fun police might caution against the nitrite-laden evils of commercial bacon, the reality is we love it.

Blade Runners - Essential Tips 
Any self-respecting cook will readily attest to the importance of owning good knives, because of all the tools that you possess in your kitchen arsenal, your knife is inarguably the most important.

Malaysian eats: Bringing bacon sambal and nasi lemak ice cream to the world - Malaysians boleh, indeed!
The local food scene is heating up, with enterprising Malaysians launching their own food labels and creating inspired foods from bacon jam to nasi lemak-flavoured ice cream.

From The Edge - Postcards, problems of the heart and postulations.
Resident angst-meister Fay Khoo soothes furrowed brows
and metes out advice that is, if not especially sympathetic, guaranteed to remind you what being a man is all about. Lacking in sensitivity? Subtle as a sledgehammer? Probably. Still want to write? It’s your call
Dear Goddess, Have you quit Men’s Review? Didn’t see your column recently, Please, we need you to put us on the straight and narrow. Otherwise, someone else will, and it’ll probably be a Richard Simmons look-alike.



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