Thursday, March 15, 2018

Classic Afternoon Tea at The St Regis Kuala Lumpur’s The Drawing Room

Fancy a spot of tea with some scones?
Classic Afternoon Tea at The St Regis Kuala Lumpur’s The Drawing Room
This month, The Drawing Room launched its reimagined
Classic Afternoon Tea, created by newly appointed
Chef de Patisserie Hassan Mohammed.
Enjoy a leisurely afternoon with delectable treats paired with tea or coffee underneath glistening custom-made five-tier crystal chandelier in the centre of The Drawing Room.

Taking centre stage at The Drawing Room is the specially commissioned horse sculpture by notable Columbian artist Fernando Botero, known for his signature style "Boterism”, where he depicts subjects in an exaggerated and voluptuous form.

As we waited for canapes, we enjoyed a spot of tea.
Guests could choose from TWG variants including Grand Wedding, Jasmine Queen, English Breakfast, Silver Moon, Napoleon, and Alexandria.
Our Tea Sommelier recommended Silver Moon, concocted from a blend of green teas accented with a grand berry and vanilla bouquet.
unlimited savoury canapes

We were served savoury canapes, including Alaskan Giant Red King Crab Aioli (we had tuna instead during the review), Caviar, Organic Scottish Salmon, Bio Turkey Ham Rock Melon, Cream Cheese on Multigrain Bread, and Egg Mayonnaise “Melanosporum” Italian Black Truffle.
The chef talked us through the menu and explained the meticulous process that went to create such delightful bite-size morsels.

Organic Scottish Salmon
 Cream Cheese on Multigrain Bread
Next, we were served sweet treats on a tier. The Sweet Tier consists of Strawberry Cheesecake, Mixed Berries Trifle, Chocolate Speculoos Raspberry, Madagascar Vanilla Choux, and Caramelised Pecan Shortcrust.

The Sweet Tier 

Any afternoon tea would not be complete without the staple Scones. There were Raisins Scone and Plain Scones, paired with Strawberry Jam and Traditional English Clotted Cream.

Caramelised Pecan Shortcrust
price:  RM140 nett per person, or RM220 nett per person with a glass of Veuve Clicquot,
For details, call The Drawing Room at 03-27276690 or email

THE ST REGIS KUALA LUMPUR, No 6, Jalan Stesen Sentral 2, Kuala Lumpur.
Tel: 03-2727 6696
Business hours: 7am to 10.30pm daily.

I was really looking forward to this as this was my first* ever afternoon tea review, after 10 years as a journalist!!!
More so at St Regis, as I've driven past the beautiful facade and have always wondered if the interior is as beautiful as its exterior. (I later got to cover a fund-raiser in 2016 there, and it was gorgeous)
As I was ushered to a cosy corner by the floor-to-ceiling windows, it was everything I imagined.
I loved the creations by Chef de Patisserie Hassan Mohammed.
Alas, after the interview and photoshoot, we didn't have much time left for a leisurely afternoon. Hopefully, this won't be my first and last afternoon tea.
I was glad my first afternoon tea experience in my capacity as a photojournalist was a wonderful one.
*It was my first afternoon tea review, but mom and I had our first ever high tea experience last year when i took her to a hotel for her birthday celebration:

Friday, March 9, 2018

International Women's Day: True story of an abuse victim

Summary: Dad finally hit me, after years of emotional and verbal abuse. Now am living in fear of retaliation from hooligan neighbour.
The story (told with permission from victim):
"As I returned home, the neighbour has yet again parked in front of my gate, obstructing my entry as usual. I honked several times and dad got out from the house; first he went to the neighbour (who was still in my path btw) and apologised profusely to the neighbour...the neighbour that obstructed our entrance! Dad kept gesturing me to drive into the house but I only reverse, i don't drive straight in, especially since we live among ****s, it would be a pain to reverse out when your entrance is hindered by ****. He then came screaming towards me, yelling me to get out of the car. I got out and he quickly drove my car in so we won't be the ones blocking the **** neighbour. He then got out and the shouting match began.
"I asked him why was he apologising to that fucking bastard who's always obstructing our way, and he defended the neighbour (guess he got confused and thought the neighbour is his flesh and blood) saying that it is public road and he has the right to park there.
Are you ******* kidding me? defending that law-breaking* selfish brute?
More screaming ensued and he kept raising his hand to hit me...and that's when i knew he would finally hit me, he has often threatened me and once choked me, but he has yet to hit me but this time, sh*ts for real, he kept getting into my face, his hand just inches away from landing on my face, his face contorted into rage, eyes full of hatred as though i had murdered his parents...i've never seen someone with so much hate for their child (what have I done to deserve this? since birth, the worse I've done was talking back, screaming at him to stop the abuse, or slamming the door). I wanted to say I was shocked by it but I wasn't, I often see those hateful expression.
Since young, I've often put myself in between mom and dad whenever they argue to keep him from hitting mom. I knew I would be safe, thinking that he wouldn't hit his child.
But that soon changed, his temper became worse. Once he almost stabbed my sister with scissors after grandma's funeral.
He almost killed my sister! His flesh and blood. If he could think of picking up a deadly weapon to harm his youngest daughter, what's stopping him from hitting me?
In fear and to defend myself, i shoved him hard with my fist, he then pushed me and I fell to the floor.
My own father, abusing me verbally and now physically in public!
And as I look up, the b****** neighbour was still in his car in front of our house, smirking triumphantly, taking joy that I was shoved by my dad.
Any decent human being would get out of the car and stopped a man from hurting his defenseless daughter or at the very least, drive away instead of enjoying this family drama.
But of course, a decent human being wouldn't constantly obstruct someone's driveway for all these years. And he never parks in his own house nor in front of his gate.
I didn't know which was worse, the fact my dad actually shoved me to the ground or that he humiliated me in front of that b****** neighbour.
I was so embarrassed that the b****** neighbour saw how I had literally fell from grace, I have always been a confident and proud woman (though not so much as before ever since I started work and became the target for office bullies for over a decade) and to be seen outside my house in a shouting match, to lose all composure in the public eye, worse, for the person who has constantly inconvenienced my family (and possibly hinder us from exiting the house in case of emergencies) to see me in such a humiliating state, I wished the ground would swallow me and hopefully the b****** neighbour too. I lost every ounce of dignity. I felt like a lesser human.
I'm a 32 woman with a degree and job with a prestigious company, and now I'm reduced to this.
Mom came out and asked why did dad hit me, and guess what he said?
"I didn't hit her (he later told mom I had lost my balance and fell, sounds familiar? the "she tripped and gave herself a black-eye defense), she hit me! I have God as my witness" and proceeded to invoke the name of deities while showing mom his chest.
Boohoo, what a lil' b*tch!
At that point, I lost all respect for him.
He then threatened to go to my office and make a scene.
I won't put it past him, he had humiliated me in front of my teacher and her daughter (my schoolmate) at the grocery store, at a university orientation day (hence the reason why i didn't want to apply for my studies there, despite it being a reputable school) and in front of students at the university entrance where he drove off while my left leg was still outside the car and couldn't close the door, he would often fly into rage and yell loudly at us, so much so that neighbours got so used to it that they didn't called the cops when my parents screamed when armed robbers broke in as they thought it was yet another domestic argument (or so those heartless, nosy neighbours said)
I swore that that would be the last straw. He had humiliated me at every stage of my life and if he ruined my career, I would hang myself in the lobby dressed in red and haunt him and my office bullies. It sounds extreme but that's how much (emotional and verbal since young, and now physical) I'm willing to stop the abuse I've suffered over the years.
I drove away, I needed to get out.
Guess what he told  mom after that? He wasn't worried about me. No, he said now he's going to be known as the man who beat his daughter. He was worried about his reputation and image! And c'mon, you beat your wife, what's another achievement of daughter-beater going to do to your image?
He also told mom that he apologised profusely to the neighbour and later screamed at me and raised him hand in hopes of scaring me into the house as the neighbour had his window down and could hear me cursing ( i was yelling in a foreign language that the b****** neighbour doesn't know, so this reason doesn't hold water). He said he was fearing for my safety as the b****** neighbour is a taxi driver (his words, not mine; i'm not insinuating all taxi drivers are jerks like the b****** neighbour) and could easily get fellow cabbies or a gang to take revenge on me. Wow, look at how he twisted the situation! What BS! If what he said was true, that he genuinely cared for me, why would he screamed and raised his hand? Why couldn't he use words, calmly, like a decent father?
Excuses and lies.
Later in the evening as I were about to drive out for dinner, that b****** neighbour stood in front of his house together with his wife and sh*tty son (he would only ride his bike in my path when he sees me approaching or come near the car, what a lil' b******, but i guess the rotten apple doesn't fall far from the diseased tree) and just stared at me, possibly having told them the wonderful spectacle he witnessed today.
And now I have to live in fear as dad has planted fear in me, just like he has been doing since I was young, like how when my high-school classmate twisted his knuckles against my skull because he claimed i sat in his spot. Dad told me to apologise to him instead, saying that if i made him mad, he would kidnap me after school and gang-rape me.
Hence, i've always been afraid of confrontation for fear of retaliation. I never confronted the office perv for ogling me for almost 11 year (since i was an intern!), i never told HR about my male colleague who felt up my arm nor when 2 years later, he glided his hands across my waist, I never told off any of my school+office bullies.
Worse of all, I know that what my father say is true (despite the lies he tell), we may be law-abiding citizens but these hooligans may not be and they resort to sneaky ways of retaliation like ... (it's too horrible to mention here) etc to silence those they bully.
This happened just a day after International Women's Day.
Despite all the "you go girl" campaigns, I've never been proud to be a woman. In fact, I hate it.
I hate being a woman, i hate being the weaker sex, I hate living in fear (I'd never leave the house in shorts). When i was young, i hope to grow stronger and taller so I could protect mom from dad but now, I'm in my 30s and not only I'm not stronger, I've also became a victim of my father. I know it was just a shove, others had had worse things done to them. But i still felt useless nonetheless.
I used to have hope that a better future lies ahead but having my dignity taken at this age, I just gave up."
note: I know posting this story would be a risk.
Many brands would not want to work with a blogger who touches on sensitive, controversial or negative issues, it has to be #happy #blessed #luxelife all the way.
But if telling the truth would drive people (including advertisers) away, so be it. This post will be up till the victims says no.
I may not be able to help abuse victims, except listening to their stories; the least I could do is provide them a voice.