Stories of KK

It’s still steak. Thanks to blog archives, I realize KK’s obsession with cow meat truly stands  the test of time.  Five years later, he wants to up his steak game, and invests in more steak paraphernalia. The girls very excitedly crowd around me when I came back from rehearsal one day: “Mama, Papa bought a XX which costs $Y!” To which KK cuts in, “No lah it was discounted”. It doesn’t matter, really, he can spend his money however he wants. The reason I softly sigh is because I have to store these things. And I know I won’t use them. What would I do with a sexy chopping board, heavy cast-iron pan which would strain my violin-playing wrist, and why the hell would I want to go through the hassle of carefully pouring olive oil from the glass bottle it already comes in, into another albeit prettier one? I think the impetus was after we ate steak from a rather nice little coffeeshop restaurant out in the Pandan Gardens boondocks, right after trampolining. Part of a HDB block, its steaks, ri