Grace Kelly - Style Icon Exhibit

There are some people in the world who I find just so beautiful that I just can't help but stare (it's so rude and Asian!), amazed by their luck in the gene pool.  That is how I feel when I look at photos of a young Grace Kelly.  I just think she is simply stunning, stunning, stunning.  Some say she looks icy cool but I think she epitomises classical beauty.

I first saw pictures of Grace Kelly when I was aged 7.  Having exhausted my kiddie reading options, I started scouring Ma's Women's Weekly magazine.  (You see, my parents didn't really supervise my reading habits).  I had no idea who she was and to my 7 year old eyes, Grace was just a middle-aged lady with upswept hair standing in a royal palace somewhere in Europe.  However, she sure had presence in those photos and her image stuck in my head.  It was a few years later after watching a documentary about her death that I realised Princess Grace and Grace Kelly were one and the same.  (You see, my parents didn't really supervise my TV watching either).

When I saw posters on tube advertising the Grace Kelly: Style Icon exhibit at the V&A, I thought 'Yay! Pretty dresses!  I'm going to see that!'.  Admittedly, I've never seen any of her films but that shouldn't keep me apart from seeing pretty dresses.  After sleeping in to noon for the past few days, I managed to haul myself out of bed at the ungodly hour of 9am and arrive at the V&A at 10.30am.  I didn't bother pre-booking my ticket - I was just gonna fight the queue.  I figured I would need to get there early enough to avoid the flock of Ladies Who Lunch who like myself (for now), had the day to do whatever takes their fancy.  Being a Lady of Leisure in London sure is a tough life.

Seeing an exhibit alone has it perks.  The three ladies in front of me weren't allowed to enter for another hour due to crowd control, but me, all lonesome me was allowed in immediately because I would obviously take up less space.  Hehehehe..

Unfortunately, only one particular dress located at the entrance of exhibit was allowed to be photographed.  But even if I could take photos, they would probably turn out crap anyway.

The pink lace and silk taffeta dress which Grace Kelly wore a few times.  You can see her wearing it here.  It looks like a Prom Queen disaster but Grace manages to pull it off. 

The exhibit displays her dresses chronologically and the first thing I noticed is she had the TINIEST waist and was surprisingly a bit flat chested.  Not a criticism by any means, but in combination with her statuesque height, I guess clothes would look understated and elegant rather than flauntingly sexy.

Also for someone who could have bought an outfit for every occasion, she was known for wearing her favourite outfits repeatedly.  Well we could all relate to that, can't we?  Included in the display is also the famous Hermes Kelly bag.  It was a little worn as you'd expect and not very big but wow, I was looking at THE Kelly Bag!

As she got older, her minimalist style did not waver and while may not have been the trendsetter (avoiding the miniskirt rage), she kept to what worked for her and what she was comfortable.  The tell-tale signs of ageing were apparent in her facial features but it was all just 'graceful' ageing.  This is how all women should age and not down the plastic fantastic route.

For anyone interested in the Grace Kelly exhibit, tickets are £6 a pop and it runs until September.  For the accompanying book you can either buy it at the V&A or you be the thrift like Grace and get it cheaper on Amazon.  I might just get myself one.

As a side note, I wandered around other parts of the V&A and spotted the following:

A Juicy Couture velour tracksuit (wtf) and Princess Diana's Elvis dress.  Totally unexpected.  

Second and Final Day in Prague

Just like how I did in London, Amsterdam and Berlin, I turned up for the New Europe Free Walking Tour of Prague.  I really enjoy these tours and try to do them in each city they're offered.  (Ok, there may have also been a pining hope of having another Mike the Hottie guide.)  Well, I didn't get my eye candy (dammit!) but we got an enthusiastic Irish fellow instead.  After a short wander around the Old Town Square, we were brought to one of Prague's most famous landmarks, the Astronomical Clock.

The legend goes that the city of Prague liked the clock so much that in order to stop the clockmaker from making a replica elsewhere, they had the guy blinded!  Mmmm thoughtful. (But not true).  The gold calendar on the clock lists a male/female name for every day of year.  Czech people usually pick a name from this list and in addition to celebrating one own's birthday, the Czech also celebrate their Name Day.  The tradition is to buy everyone else a drink!

The Church of Our Lady before Tyn.  The skinny tower on the left is a woman and the wider one is a man! 

One of those baddies from Stars Wars?  Nope just a statue commemorating the premiere of Mozart's Don Giovanni in Prague.  

Evil Babushka = This way to the Museum of Communism!  The Powder Gate where gunpowder used to be stored and hence the black discolouration. 

We stopped for lunch at a bagel place but I'm not one to ever crave bagels.  Just kinda...shiny and chewy.  I ate one anyway.

Into the Jewish Quarter where we were shown Franz Kafka's statue where the guide recommended we take a photo on each other's shoulders.  No I didn't do that.  

The Pinkas synagogue which has inscribed the names of all Czech Jews who died in WWII.  Dvorak's statue at Jan Palach Square.  

A view of Prague Castle from the Old Town side.  

The guide told us the story about the lucky statue on the Charles Bridge and explained that rubbing the dog will give you bad luck!  Some cheeky locals had noticed how shiny the lucky bronze saint was so one night, went up with a bottle of polish and buffed up the dog to make tourists pat the dog!

I went back and promptly patted the lucky saint.... even though the plaque shows him being thrown off a bridge.  Good luck works in mysterious ways.  

On the bridge, there was this cute, quirky little band performing... something in Czech.

I thought it was so kewl, I videoed them.

If you watch it for only one thing, watch it for the guy hitting spoons against a metal grill.  

With the walking tour over and done, I had a little bit of time to kill before heading to the airport.  I chose to burn that time with ......

....my final hotdog for Prague, complete with a hair silhouette.

I had pre-booked yesterday's taxi driver to shuttle me back to the airport.  A reliable man he was, waiting for me at the hotel about 15 minutes early.  I got back to the hotel and saw a sign on the front door.  'The reception desk is closed, please go to Hotel Venezia around the corner for assistance.'  I was pretty fricken annoyed.  A 3-star hotel should be manned 24 hours.  Damn fricking Hotel Halkova!!

Overall, I was a bit underwhelmed with Prague even though I had always really wanted to come here.  It was a must on my to-do list but now after being here, it all just seemed a bit ho-hum and I don't quite understand what the fuss is all about.  Too many people raved on about it being 'beautiful, gorgeous, awesome, I loved it, you're gonna love it' etc but to me, it just looked like every other second city in central Europe!

In fact, I preferred other cities over Prague.  The Prague Castle view reminded me of Salzburg Castle - except IMHO Salzburg was nicer.  Prague's Old Town was pretty much like every other Old Town I'd seen - Krakow, Bruges and Talinn's was nicer IMHO.  Prague's bridges over the Vltava river... well Budapest's Danube was nicer.  I'm not bagging Prague, I just wasn't impressed and see no reason for me to re-visit.  Then I thought, maybe it's me?  Maybe I'm jaded with travelling?  No way, that can't be it!  There are still parts of Spain, Italy, Germany and France I would like to see!

I could think of two reasons which explain my 'meh' feeling about Prague.  If it's the first time you've traveled to Europe and your typical itinerary covers London, Paris, Rome, Barcelona, Amsterdam and Prague then yes, Prague is quite different in comparison to all those cities.  But if you've actually been to other parts of Europe, then really Prague looks nothing out of the ordinary.  Nothing felt really 'Prague-y' to me.

The other explanation is that I didn't go Prague on a stag/hens/drinking party whereby the aim is to be as boisterous, obnoxious and drunk as possible.  Easily done with the cheap drinks in Prague.  When you are that trashed, then of course you're going to love wherever you are.

However, don't let what I've said put you off going to Prague.  For any seasoned traveller, just don't hype it up for yourself!

Prague - Travelling Solo

My trip to Prague served two purposes:

1. Tick it off my list of cities to visit and maybe more importantly so.. ....
2. Obtain frequent flyer points before 30 April to make all this airline loyalty worthwhile.  Then I will finally reap the benefit of being allowed an extra 10kg in free checked luggage.  Yay - more shopping!

I had originally booked to go last Tuesday but The Volcano had his own plans.  After committing to the 90 minute queue on the Expedia hotline (twice - thankfully I had a handsfree), I managed to re-book my trip.  Given that this was essentially an exercise in accruing loyalty points, it was pretty much a do-it-on-the-cheap-jump-on-the-plane-hit-up-some-sights-and-get-back-to-London trip.  This meant that Smee couldn't come on a weekday speed trip to Prague with me.  I was all alone.  A potential target for people-traffickers.  Or maybe a Hostel situation?  Oh no!

Getting a cab from the airport was no trouble but to get to the city, there was a tedious drive up and down some windy roads.   The taxi driver initially dropped me off at the wrong hotel but realised his mistake promptly.  I thought 'Phew, good thing I'm not staying there, cos the hotel didn't look that great and it seemed kinda far.'

When he finally brought me to my actual hotel, I thought he made another mistake.

Check out the welcoming door to my 3-star hotel.  Hmmmmmm.... yes...right... 

The tiny sign adjacent to door confirming that this indeed was my Hotel Halkova.  

The door was locked so I buzzed my way in.  An empty corridor greeted me but I wandered in through and found the reception desk tucked away in it's own room.  After collecting my key fob, I made my way to my room.  

The door to my Czechian abode.  

I had seen pictures of the hotel and I wasn't expecting the Burj Al Arab but rotting floorboards weren't expected either.  I do have to give props for the sheer size of my room which actually comprised of a bedroom and a sitting room.  My bathroom was out in the communal corridor I shared with the adjacent room (I was aware of this) but the toilet door lock did not work.  Excellent.

The weird thing about the bedroom was the inclusion of a bed/mattress/couch/divan/wtf-is-this-thing.  It didn't have a proper bed linen on it and there was not one but two of them.  I figured that these were intended for backpackers who had BYO-ed their own sleeping bags.  

I didn't have to sleep on either weird mattress thingies, luckily I had my own wrought iron bed.  I wasn't in Prague to watch TV but could it get any smaller?

Believe it or not, Hotel Halkova is listed as a 3-star hotel.  Expedia's definition of a 3-star hotel is:

"Properties in this classification place a greater emphasis on comfort and service, with many offering an on-site restaurant and bar. Baggage assistance is often available. Guestrooms typically feature more space, comfortable seating, and better quality bedding. Bathrooms are often larger, with shower/tub combinations and expanded counter space."

C'mon Expedia.  You have got to be kidding me.  I know I was being a bit tight-arse on this trip but seriously?  You can't call this 3-star!  Reading the other classifications, I felt Hotel Halkova fell into the 1.5-star category.  Two-star would be pushing it. 

I don't quite understand how 81% of the reviews on Trip Advisor give this hotel a 'thumbs up'.  That has gotta be due to a statistical flaw.  If they marketed the Halkova as a youth hostel, then yes, but otherwise you can't call this a hotel, let alone claim a 3-star rating.  I guess it's my own fault for being a bit blase about the very bad reviews (one even claiming it was 'the worst hotel I've ever stayed in'), putting it down to a few whinging snobs.  I was pretty sure I this hotel might the last place I'll be seen on Earth.  

Ok, enough about dying alone in a dodgy hotel room.  I had the rest of the afternoon to wander the streets of Prague and get my bearings right.  The one (and only) positive aspect of Hotel Halkova was that I was a 7 minute walk from Wenceslas Square.  Nevermind that I had to walk past a few strip joints.  In a somewhat contradictory way, the burly bodyguards made me feel safe.

When I reached the square, I didn't realise I was there.  Mainly because I was looking for the typical 'town square' I was accustomed to seeing in other continental countries - usually a large, pedestrianised, squarish space surrounded by restaurants, hotels and the like.  (Obviously I did almost no research for this trip).  Wenceslas Square has got to be the most rectangular square I've ever seen and had cars driving up and down it.  However, after checking the map and being reassured of my awesome map reading skills, I was definitely at the square.

Hungry for some food, I got my central European food fix.  Mmmmm... hot dog.... with a very long sausage! 

On the way to the Old Town Square, I passed a market which were selling laughing witches on swings. 

Nearly at the Old Town, where I would see the 'square' I had expected at Wenceslas Square.  I wasn't going to spend too long at the square as I was on my way to Prague Castle. 

But never one to miss an eating opportunity, I couldn't resist the smell of the trdelnik.  After not eating the Hungarian equivalent in Budapest, I quickly handed over some cash for my bready, sweet goodness.

That wasn't the actual shop at which I purchased my trdelnik but it more nicely decorated.  Roast away my dough, roast away.  The finished product topped with nuts and icing sugar.  Nums.  

Not a very good photo, but here stands the iconic Charles Bridge with it's statues.  I would need to cross the bridge to reach the castle. 

Too many tourists on the bridge to get a decent photo without an Aunty posing. 

I was told to go the statue of John of Nepomuk and pat the bronze dog for good luck.  Good luck coming my way!  

The walk up to the castle wasn't too steep but not recommend for the unfit.

The view of Prague from the top of the castle. 

Making my way down from the castle, I found a prisoner.  

After all that walking I sure was hungry.  I don't like dining alone :( but you know, you gotta do what you gotta do.

Wanting some Czech food, I sat my bottom down at Kolkovna.  The Czech Republic seems to be one of the few countries which still allows smoking in restaurants.  Tsk tsk.  

Even the guidebooks say 'You don't go to Prague for the food' but if a central European diet of meat and potatoes is your thing, then you would come to Prague for the food!

For entree I had the carpaccio which is not Czech cuisine but I ordered it anyway.  The mini olives were tasty!  For my main I had the lamb leg with spinach and potato dumplings.  I love lamb shanks but I couldn't eat like this everyday.  

A little paranoid about walking around in the dark alone, I headed my way back to Wenceslas Square.  Knowing that I may not sleep very well tonight, I stopped for a nightcap with my ever favourite, warming cup of gluhwein.

The sparkly hot dog and gluhwein stand.  Mmmmm warming, red wine.  Not the best but I just needed it to do it's job.

Ready for my one night in Prague I headed back past the strip bars back to my hotel.

The path to my hotel.  Mmmmm such a safe feeling.  

Well I obviously lived to the tell the tale.  More Prague tomorrow!

I've Got Crabs!

The seafood kind, not the 'down there' kind.

With me not being around, Smee had really neglected himself in the seafood-eating department.  We rectified this unfortunate situation this morning with a 4.30am trip to Billingsgate.  With a few peeps coming over for some group eating tonight, it was also time to stock up on supplies.

Here's is my sleepless mug with one of our crabbies, reminiscent of our lobster trip.

Our two pet crabbies. One frothing at the mouth.  I won't get too attached to them. 

Somewhat of an unusual tradition after each Billingsgate trip, Smee and I ate seafood for breakfast.

Pan fried seabass and garlic butter squid and scallops..... mmmm.. so breakfast-y.  

After a well deserved day nap, Smee and I welcomed our guests, ready for a feast.  The night began with an interactive entree - make your own rice paper roll.  Everyone was a little apprehensive about screwing it up, but after my awesome demonstration, the kiddies did Mama Pooey proud.

PF with his fat-ass rice paper roll.  He's lucky it didn't explode.  Temzy so happy with her perfect rice paper roll.  

Enjoying the rolls.  

Onto the mains.  Smee who is always on a food conquest has been wanting to make Chilli Crab for some time now. In preparation for tonight he taught himself how to open the crab, clean it out and cracked the shells ready for frying, saucing and all that stuff.

Not the prettiest picture, but it was sure damn yummy!  We also made sure that the sauce was soaked up with some mantou.  I love mantou.  Smee?  I heat up the mantou now? 

Special guest chef Temzy's sole purpose tonight was to enhance our lives with her spicy squid dish.  Despite eating squid, Temzy has a tentacle phobia.

Temzy doing her best TV chef impersonation.  Temzy can't contain herself while frying away.   

Ta-dah!  Temzy's spicy squid with capsicum and onion, garnished with sesame seeds.  Yum yum yum.  

PF and Sz brought along their shark curry but Smee forgot to photograph it.  Ooops.  As usual, we ate too much and drank a bit.  A good night for all!

Barrafina

Dinner tonight was at Barrafina, a tapas bar in Soho.  Spanish food isn't too hard to find in London but decent tapas is not cheap.  For inexpensive Spanish fare, La Tasca is a chain which has several outlets in central London but having eaten here once was enough to never return again.  If you think La Tasca serves good Spanish food, you really need a slap to the face.  Food drenched in oil, paella with hardly any ingredients, shite service - no thanks La Tasca.

Barrafina is not very big (maximum capacity - 23) and all seating is located at the bar.  Obviously, the best way to operate would be on a no reservations basis and we queued for about 40 minutes. 

Smee enjoying the house red.  

We settled on our stools and perused the place-mat menu and had the following dishes:

Jamon croquetas.  I generally just like croquettes.  Little parcels of squishy goodness.  Smee wasn't too excited about them.  Chipirones - mini lightly battered, fried squiddies.  Cute, a little bland, but the texture was nice! 

Cold meat platter.  I like the guitar shaped board.  That was pretty cool.  I love jamon, chorizo, cured meats in general.  

Gambas (prawns).  These were huge and the photo doesn't really demonstrate their size, which much like a small lobster.  They have a fresh seafood display available which is cooked to order.  We had the mussels.

Grilled Quail with Al-i-Oli.  I guess that's Spanish for aioli.  That was frigging yum - all those mini bones.  Maybe it's just because I'm a fried chicken lover? To finish off we had the classic tortilla.  A lot thicker than I expected, but I kinda get the impression this is normal??!  A little disappointing, but I mean, it's egg and potato.  You can't really make it very exciting.  

Overall, Barrafina is definitely worth the wait.  Smee and I finished eating at 10pm and to have people still queuing on a Wednesday night sure says a lot about a restaurant!

Burberry Outlet

In the last few years, Burberry in the UK has taken a bit of a reputation battering, cheapened as a luxury goods designer due to it's popularity with Chavs.  Prior to living in London I had never heard of this slang term.  Wtf is a Chav?  A 'Chav' I would say is akin to a 'Bogan'.  (See here for the Wikipedia definition and here for the more funny Uncyclopedia definition.  Here you'll find Bogan.)

They are alike in many ways; traditionally of a lower socio demographic, ill-educated (and usually not desiring of more education) and low income earners in an unskilled labour force.  With the advent of reality TV and the ability for almost anyone to become wealthy in a given environment (or choose to abuse the social benefits system), the chavs/bogans have re-emerged as a nouveau-riche crowd.

Why did the Chavs take a liking to Burberry?  Who knows.  Maybe to do with the fact they do have a decent warehouse in London?  It is also fairly cheap when compared to the likes of Louis Vuitton which never goes on sale.  However, this is not an analysis about Chavs.  This is just to request people not call me a Chav for going to the Burberry outlet.  The above was merely exploring the mystery to the Chav-Burberry affinity.  Hey, before Chavs got to it, Burberry made and still make decent luxury goods!

Anyway I trotted off to the Burberry outlet in London today.  I had kinda forgotten that the outlet existed, always thinking that the closest one was in Bicester Village.  I was mainly coming here to check out quilted jackets.  Ma, after seeing her friend donning the jacket, wanted one for herself.  I stopped her from purchasing one in Oz after having had a heart attack at the extra $150-$200 she would be dishing out above the UK retail price.

The outlet.  A little bit out of place with the surrounding buildings... of which I did not photograph.  

I had to google the location as it is not listed on the official website.  For the curious, the address is 29-53 Chatham Place, London E9 6LP.  The closest tube/overground station is Hackney Central, but smart lil' me took a National Rail train from Liverpool Street to Hackney Downs.  A slightly longer walk but a quicker journey overall from where I live.

I thought it was a little odd to have the outlet in Hackney.  Hackney... who on earth said Hackney was gentrified?  It didn't look all that funky in this part of town.  It's an area where many a snob would never endeavour to go.  In a way it makes sense - Burberry wanna keep it low key and discounting designer good rubs a certain sparkle off the product.  However, this location?  Well, a good proportion of Chavs live in the East End.  I have to admit I felt a little paranoid walking here alone (maybe I'm a bit sheltered?), however I was in the safety of daylight.  I was reassured I was on the right path when I saw a few others come out of the non-descript street with unmarked shopping bags but translucent enough for me to see an iconic tartan handbag.

Once inside, I was pretty impressed at the size of the outlet -  a fair bit larger than the Bicester Village store.   I wasn't expecting much from the outlet so it's good to be surprised. :D  For any diehard Burberry fan, I would definitely recommend visiting this store instead of Bicester as I felt the range was better, sizes were well stocked, the discounts are the same and it was not crowded at all.  Also, the shop assistant said that I could return/exchange any goods within 28 (or was it 30?) days even though they were on sale - awesome!

In the end, I actually had to restrain myself after being in the store for about an hour.  Yes..... I was in there for an hour.  I had to whittle down the number of scarves to three, deny myself two handbags and forgo the quilted jacket for myself.  I had never really liked the quilted jackets - the typical design makes me look like a grandma - but I had tried on a design which looked really, really good.  Believe it or not!

So the final haul comprises the following:

Three cashmere scarves.  There were many more I liked but one had to exert control.  Also, they seemed to have ceased production of the cheaper, wool scarves.  Oh and if you're wondering, they're not all for me.  

Ma's quilted jacket.  Which looked absolutely horrible on me and aged me about 100 years.  Looks fine on Ma though!

So yeah.  Burberry outlet in Hackney - pretty freaking good! 

Ginger

While standing in the queue at Waitrose (a most fabulous supermarket which needs to open in Australia), I got sucked in by the impulse-buy product placement. 

How could I say no to a Gingerbread Man smiling at me like that?  

I have decided to call him Ginger - pronounced with a 'g' like how you would say 'go' and the 'ging' rhyming with 'king'.  So it's Ging-er.  Yes I am being that specific.  

I snuck him into my shopping basket while Smee ran off to get some outstanding goods.  When we got to the cashier, the attendant pulled Ginger out and scanned him.  Smee gave me a look and asked, "How did that get in there?"  The cashier knew the women's sneaky-shopping code and promptly packed Ginger safely into the shopping bag.  "He's cute!" I retorted.

Smee has now taken a liking to Ginger and won't let me eat him anymore.

Necessary Signs, Street Art and Disappointment Noodles

A few things spotted around London.

This interesting sign in Soho on the front of a Georgian house door. (Now a converted office). Blink and you would have missed it.

I mean, they must have received so many propositions that they felt it was necessary to clarify the situation. It was a very sexy black door otherwise.

Giant hair? Coming out of a window and into a door? Again in Soho. This was a little gross but quite funny to watch people avoid the 'hair' when walking past.

A giant electric socket near Carnaby street. I actually think this has been here for awhile. I think...can't remember.

Smee and I had the hungries and so off we stopped at Cha Cha Moon.  This was another venture into the restaurant world by Alan Yau, the same guy who brought Wagamama into the world.  I hate Wagamama but the food at Cha Cha Moon wasn't bad.  I dare say, it was good!  When this eating establishment first opened, all the dishes cost £3 each.  I remember being seated next to a couple who ordered the entire menu.  Ok I exaggerate but they had a good 15 plates on their table and could barely keep up, merely sampling each dish.  Much fun for them though!

The first few times that Smee and I ate here, it was only peppered by a few suspect dishes but overall we usually quite happy with the meals and definitely had our favourites.  Time went by and while it was a good thing while it lasted, the prices soon went up.  Not by much but by about £1-2.  No biggie.

Smee and I returned today and we saw that prices had pretty reached the 'norms' of Chinatown - about £5-7 each.  Still not expensive by any measure but if you think about it being only £3 only two years ago, yet the serving size hasn't changed - maybe shrunk? - well, it's not such a bargain after all. 

The menu had changed somewhat with the addition of the 'Dolly Mee Goreng'.  I like mee goreng - both the hawker and instant varieties - but wtf is 'dolly'?  Anyway, I expected to be served something like this which is what I expect to receive from hawkers.  The noodles are thicker, egg noodles.  What I got was this:

Hrrrmmmmmmm.... *scrunched up face*  Instant noodles!  Not the thick, egg (Hokkien) noodles!

I mean, this mee goreng imposter really upset me.  I understand that some hawker stores do serve this type of mee goreng and it's called 'Maggi Mee Goreng' which makes it very clear it is the instant noodle variety.  All Cha Cha Moon did was open up a 45 pence packet of instant noodles, toss in the cheapest vegies possible, two slices of fish cake and called it Dolly Mee Goreng.  Is the 'Dolly' meant to imply the instant noodle usage? 

Smee could tell I was disappointed and offered to buy me a cheeseburger as a consolation.  Smee's char kway teow (which had been his favourite) was quite disappointing too.  They had cut back on key ingredients yet was charging more than ever before.  Based on this, Smee and I will probably never return to Cha Cha Moon.  The food really is only so-so now with no price point to draw us in.  You could say that maybe they were undercharging but c'mon people, everyone knows you get ripped off in London. 

I'm not an Alan Yau worshipper and to the purists, his food wasn't always the most authentic.  However, he did know how to run a restaurant properly and appease customers.  I have now discovered that he ceased his relationship with Cha Cha Moon about a year ago.  No wonder the food has slipped!

(Note:  Smee actually realised later that 'Dolly' (bad Anglicisation) in Cantonese implies instant noodle.  Still, the menu description doesn't make it clear!)