Archive for September, 2008

  • Half-arsed review: San Francisco Steakhouse

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    Do you know what I really miss, living in south-east Asia? A selfishly large hunk of charred beef, still bloody in the middle, served with oversized cutlery. So, when we visited KL a couple of months ago, I was adamant about my food choices. “I want steak!”

    Along one of the many many sides of the frighteningly humongous MidValley Mall in the heart of KL, is the San Francisco Steakhouse, which is quite a swanky place done in dark muted tones, with linen tablecloths and a little buzzer at each table, so you can just press a button for “Waiter” or “Bill” without needing to wave wildly amid other diners. Cool idea, although we had to stop little fingers wanting to press a button every few seconds.

    I didn’t spot it till afterwards (‘cos it was hidden by a promotional flyer), but the set menu for around RM$38++ was the best deal, which includes entree, main, dessert and tea/coffee. In the end, I opted for the run-of-the-mill fillet steak (for around RM$38++), cooked blue. It was a measure of the fact that the wait staff are experienced that they didn’t even bat an eyelid at my preference. (I’ve been in restaurants where the staff have actually gathered around to watch me eat my steak, unconvinced that I really enjoy a slab of meat that’s crispy brown on the outside and dripping red in.)

    The service was efficient but cool. Things were done quickly enough, but I always got the impression that these people had better things to do than serve us. Which was a shame, because the kids were on their best behaviour, and I was in the mood to relax. I ordered my steak with garlic sauce.

    The good: When the steaks arrived, they were perfectly cooked. The servings are large. The menu caters for varied tastes. The ambience is very up-market for what turned out to be a reasonably-sized bill (about RM$160 in total) for a slightly-hungry family of four.

    The bad: The fragments of garlic drizzled on my fried tomato accompaniment were burnt. Do you know how bitter garlic gets when it’s burnt? Do you know how long it takes to wheedle little pieces of sticky, burnt garlic from in between molars? Meanwhile, the sauce overpowered the taste of the steak … but there’s a reason for that.

    The ugly: Okay, here’s the sitch. The cheaper steaks at the SF Steakhouse are pre-tenderised. I’m 99% sure of it. How? Because I could mash a piece of steak against the back of my teeth with my tongue and the fibres would dissolve. Real untenderised meat doesn’t do that; doesn’t turn to porridge the moment you exert some kind of pressure on it. And the sauce is overpowering because the steak has no taste. After the “porridge” experiment, I scraped all the sauce off the meat and noticed a telltale streak of sinew cutting through it, a sure sign of topside. And topside doesn’t have that much taste. So, the restaurant “adds” taste through the use of strongly-flavoured sauces, like garlic and peppercorn.

    J complained that I was spoiling an otherwise delightful dinner by being so analytical, but steak is something I take very seriously. I don’t have it very often (maybe only 3-4 times a year), but I love me some hunks of charred and bleeding cow muscle and — because it’s such a treat — I’m very particular about how it’s handled. Maybe the Wagyu steaks (at RM$65++ a pop) were done properly, but be warned if you ever order the more ordinary fillet steaks at the San Francisco Steakhouse. If you’re a true steak afficiando, you could be in trouble.

  • No War Games today

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    I’m sorry to say, I’m not even here. I’m in another country completely, having successfully tested the future-post feature of my blog. With that in mind, re-reading, editing and posting the next chapter to War Games from overseas was really never in the cards. Apologies. Chapter Eighteen will be posted next week.

    To atone, I’m including a terrific poem by the sharply witty, incomparable Clive James, entitled The Book of my Enemy Has Been Remaindered. As an exclusively “e” author, you know I don’t have anyone particular in mind, so just read and enjoy.

    The book of my enemy has been remaindered
    And I am pleased.
    In vast quantities it has been remaindered
    Like a van-load of counterfeit that has been seized
    And sits in piles in a police warehouse,
    My enemy’s much-prized effort sits in piles
    In the kind of bookshop where remaindering occurs.
    Great, square stacks of rejected books and, between them, aisles
    One passes down reflecting on life’s vanities,
    Pausing to remember all those thoughtful reviews
    Lavished to no avail upon one’s enemy’s book –
    For behold, here is that book
    Among these ranks and banks of duds,
    These ponderous and seeminly irreducible cairns
    Of complete stiffs.

    The book of my enemy has been remaindered
    And I rejoice.
    It has gone with bowed head like a defeated legion
    Beneath the yoke.
    What avail him now his awards and prizes,
    The praise expended upon his meticulous technique,
    His individual new voice?
    Knocked into the middle of next week
    His brainchild now consorts with the bad buys
    The sinker, clinkers, dogs and dregs,
    The Edsels of the world of moveable type,
    The bummers that no amount of hype could shift,
    The unbudgeable turkeys.

    Yea, his slim volume with its understated wrapper
    Bathes in the blare of the brightly jacketed Hitler’s War Machine,
    His unmistakably individual new voice
    Shares the same scrapyart with a forlorn skyscraper
    Of The Kung-Fu Cookbook,
    His honesty, proclaimed by himself and believed by others,
    His renowned abhorrence of all posturing and pretense,
    Is there with Pertwee’s Promenades and Pierrots–
    One Hundred Years of Seaside Entertainment,
    And (oh, this above all) his sensibility,
    His sensibility and its hair-like filaments,
    His delicate, quivering sensibility is now as one
    With Barbara Windsor’s Book of Boobs,
    A volume graced by the descriptive rubric
    “My boobs will give everyone hours of fun”.

    Soon now a book of mine could be remaindered also,
    Though not to the monumental extent
    In which the chastisement of remaindering has been meted out
    To the book of my enemy,
    Since in the case of my own book it will be due
    To a miscalculated print run, a marketing error–
    Nothing to do with merit.
    But just supposing that such an event should hold
    Some slight element of sadness, it will be offset
    By the memory of this sweet moment.
    Chill the champagne and polish the crystal goblets!
    The book of my enemy has been remaindered
    And I am glad.

    (Taken from geoff johnston’s delightfully minimalist site)

    If you liked the poem, go buy the book!

  • Living in the now

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    Just to be sure that there’s no mistake, I personally believe that Australian educational standards have deteriorated over the past couple of decades. I apportion no blame to any one group, whether it’s tight-fisted Righters, or “bleeding heart” Lefters. No matter which federal government was in power, the descent continued.

    I first started taking notice of the education system when I went to buy some paint, believe it or not. At the counter, I spoke to a friendly younger man and asked for the colour — Beowulf — mentioning, as in idle conversation, that he’d probably run across it in his high school English classes but nowhere else. He looked perplexed. “No.”

    “The classic Norse [not strictly true, I now realise] poem?”
    “Never did that.”
    “The Romantic poets?”
    “Can’t say that I remember that either.”
    (Knowing it was a long shot) “Chaucer?”
    “Who?”
    “Shakespeare?”
    “Oh yeah, we did him. We saw the movie.”

    That sparked off another train of thought and it eventually emerged that the paintshop man didn’t need to actually read any novels for his “book” reports. It was enough for him to borrow a video from a shop or library and write up a report on that instead.

    Which, in my usual long-winded fashion, brings me to my current blog. The Presbyterian Ladies’ College in Sydney is running a trial that will allow English students to complete time-based, assessable activities (exams, for want of a better word) by “access[ing] information from the net, speak[ing] to friends by mobile phone and listen[ing] to podcasts”. If the pilot is successful, the College

    plans to expand the exam format out to all subjects by the end of 2008

    Now, considering I self-educate through all three methods myself, that’s not my beef. I’m also not really worried about a student accessing a podcast in, say, a maths exam. We used to have open-book exams in Chemistry and the book didn’t help if you didn’t know the subject well in the first place (as my mediocre grades will readily attest). I’m confident that modern students are smart enough to know that this truism will apply to several subjects. No, what I’m worried about is more intangible.

    The first thing that concerns me is revisionism. The problem with the Internet is that you really have to already know what you’re looking for before you look for it. And if you think there’s been some shenanigans going on with regards to any particular subject, searching can take, not only a lot of time, but a lot of sifting. Chances are, all you’re going to get on the first page of a search is what [vested interests, whomever they may be] want you to see. Remember the post on the CIA Factbook and Singapore I did in April? To get to the truth required more time than a normal exam duration. In forty to sixty minutes, all the average student is likely to find is the skin, the mere facade, of an issue, and not its muscles or bones. So what an internet search is really doing is assessing a student’s ability to couch search engine queries, rather than her ability to investigate a topic.

    Secondly, the thinking is done by the clock, with results based on how “persuasive” the student is. Does that mean it doesn’t matter whether the thinking is correct, as long as its persuasive? The answer has to be yes if ALL you’re using as an assessment criterion is “persuasion” …

    They were allowed to search for information about the speech online and get friends’ points of view, but the girls were only marked on use of persuasive language. [my emphasis]

    Both Adolf Hitler and Winston Churchill were brilliant orators. Doesn’t mean they were right about everything. But the students are being assessed only according to that ability. Philosophically and morally, this is a very dangerous slope the College is traversing.

    Thirdly, why even have such activities as time-based assessments? Students already use the net and their friends to put together assignments. Why impose a deadline on already extant strategies?

    Dierdre Coleman, the English teacher behind the pilot, told the Sydney Morning Herald that children must prepare for real-world information access methods.

    But, Ms Coleman, surely you know that this is already the normal way all students put together assignments? They get together in groups, hunt up all available resources (library, internet, newspapers, older siblings, parents, each other, etc.) and craft their responses accordingly. You must know this. The other teachers must know this. Which means that the only logical reason the school is doing this is to drum up more business. You have to admit, it looks good on a prospectus. “We teach our students the value of using modern, up-to-date information access methods to gain more knowledge of the world around them.” Yep, getting an A in Google searches. Not much wrong with that.

    A bit more (albeit shallow) digging reveals that the Presbyterian Ladies College in Armidale struck some financial troubles and therefore merged with the College in Sydney in 2005 in order to continue operating. We’re now 3 years along. Could it be that the merged entity is still suffering some financial difficulties? Difficulties that have led to its Marketing department spinning a ludicrous method as something desirable? Were the teachers perhaps asked to come up with suggestions to improve the “prestige” of the College (and thus increase its revenue) and Ms Coleman came up with the best idea?

    I have already spent more than an hour on this blog and, as you can see, haven’t even scratched the surface of the real meat of the matter, which is the whys and wherefores of the College’s new policy. The problem is, I could be completely wrong. Ms Coleman could be an absolute angel who utterly believes that she is helping train the tech-savvy female generation of the future. But if you think my arguments were in any way persuasive, then it didn’t matter that I was slighting, not only an individual, but an entire educational institution, did it? Not according to the College’s own criteria.

    Makes you wonder what a teenager looking down the barrel of a ticking clock would be able to achieve with a much meatier topic.

    POSTSCRIPT: The College itself, on a link from its front page to a letter from the Principal says, in part, that

    An interesting sideline was to see how some reports confused ‘assessment’ with ‘examination’.

    Dr McKeith, if the ‘assessment’ is time-based, assessed in comparison with other members of the same class, and contributes to the final subject score for a particular student then — I’m sorry to say — it’s an exam. I find it interesting that you seem to think that an ‘assessment’ of a student’s skills against her peers within a classroom situation is somehow not the same as an ‘examination’ or ‘exam’, if you will. (Dr McKeith’s statement is masterful in that it manages to cast light on the peripheral issues of the pilot (thus dazzling the unwary), without delving into the very real educational and philosophical questions such a pilot raises. He is, undoubtedly, well suited to the position of principal of a very large, and prosperous, private college.)

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