Sanctuary from The Mad World
Ask not what you can do for your country. Ask what's for lunch. - Orson Welles

NIMMI Restaurant & Take Away
Josefstrasse 137
8005 Zürich

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We were watching "Something’s Gotta Give" on TV for the thousandth times.  It is one of my husband’s favourite movies and anyway there was nothing more interesting on.  Harry was crashing Erica’s intimate birthday bash with the dishy Julian (love the name!) when my husband said, "Why don’t we go to Paris for the long weekend and eat there?"

He quickly made reservation for the restaurant and arranged for an accommodation (we were lucky to get a beautiful studio on the 1st arrondissement close to the Louvre).  The idea was to drive to Paris, check the car into a covered parking garage, and walked everywhere.  Therefore, our activities were confined in the said 1st arrondissement.  It worked well for a short city-break and as a fulfillment to our promise to visit Paris again for a day in the Louvre.  In addition, we walked along the Seine as far as the Notre Dame and Arc the Triomphe (I love walking along the Seine, thanks to Sabrina) and had dinner at two chosen bistros in the area.

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For our trip to Cinque Terre in northern Italy, we follow loosely the itinerary set by NYT’s 36 hours in Cinque Terre.  That includes trying out the recommended restaurants.  We’ve picked a few NYT’s restaurants recommendations from the series but results were spotty.  A recommendation for Seville that was particularly bad as the restaurant was overpriced and unpopular.  I conclude that the recommendations really depend on the writer and this particular writer knows his stuffs around Cinque Terre and here’s our take on the paper’s recommendation.

Trattoria dal Billy (Manarola):
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The list of food we had in Jakarta.

The discoveries:

-  Nasi Tim Ps. Pagi:  apparently an old flame.  I didn’t recognize it from Jenzcorner’s photograph but upon entering the place, I remember the smell.  It was the clean smell of fresh steamed rice lightly flavoured with pure and sweet chicken stock.  It was the sourish smell of pickled cucumber in thin chili sauce.  It was the smell of my childhood.  I used to have this steamed rice, topped with minced chicken, when I was really small.  I now know what Anton Ego felt when he tasted that Ratatouille. 

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A special entry for a special place.

There are millions of accommodations in Bali but I was determined to find ‘the one’.  It had to have an uninterrupted view of the ocean at an affordable price and Yoga classes on the premises.  It had to be unique and not part of a hotel chain.  I refused to share my holidays with bratty children each followed by their nannies while mummies were busy face-booking on their blackberries.  Amenities such as air conditioning and hair dryer were of no importance as long as there was a decent lap pool.  After months of tedious searching -gooling villa and uluwatu led me to those tasteless yet pricy villas- I came across Mu which I termed Bvlgari Hotel’s view at a fraction of the cost. 

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