September 4, 2010

My dearest,

Forget the mooncakes. Forget the salted egg yolks and the chocolate liqueur centres, the hearts of gold made from paper-thin leaves tempered with art and artifice. Forget about snow skins and baked skins, forget about champagne in your lotus paste – all that fine wine shall go to waste.

I am a simple man; I ask not for the moon. Offer me these small red tortoise cakes instead, these un-glamourous angkoo kueh, and a very happy man shall you make.

And always in the morning, even if not everything is resolved, the questions don’t seem as daunting… and the answering of them, we realise, might take a lifetime, might be an adventure, might be our journey.

I would lie long on the sofa of your arms, and it all goes to…

Yours, ever and always.