I try not to take cabs too often because, well, they cost a lot more than buses and trains. But some days, I just have no choice. My brain’s shut down at the end of the day, and I’m just not in the mood to stand two inches away from a stranger’s armpit, or be in constant danger of being elbowed in the forehead by a tall guy who’s holding on to the handrail. Things like that happen to me a lot since I’m short.

Getting into a cab, I feel, is a slightly less dangerous game of Russian roulette. You just never know what type of cab driver you’ll get. I’ve had a few who have barely showed any signs of life. They don’t greet me when I get in, they don’t nod when I tell them where I want to go and they barely make a sound throughout the cab ride.

And then there’s the complete opposite. 

One night last week, I had a cab driver who had something on his mind. Three minutes into the 20-minute cab ride, he asked me, “Have you ever heard of an egg being stolen?” As I honestly hadn’t, I answered no. He went on to say that his wife had just called him claiming that one hard-boiled egg was missing from their kitchen. That’s right, one hard-boiled egg.

I was intrigued. The story unfolded that the driver’s wife had boiled three eggs for lunch. She gave one to her daughter and then they both left to walk the daughter to school. When the wife got back, there was only one egg left. Puzzled, she called her husband to check if he had gone home and eaten it. He hadn’t.

The driver and I spent the entire cab ride discussing what could have happened to the egg. His theory was that a crow had flown in and grabbed the egg in its beak. He also thought his wife was hallucinating. Even the idea of bomohs (witch doctors) was bandied about. My practical brain told me that his daughter had taken an extra egg and neglected to tell her mum about it. Either that or mum was mistaken and had two eggs to begin with. I refused to believe there was anything weird or supernatural about a missing egg.

I never did find out the truth. I reached my destination before I could. But till today I wonder about that egg, especially since I Googled it and it turns out that crows can carry eggs in their beaks.

A friend of mine texted me the other day. “Only you would put a curry puff in your editor’s note!”

Actually, that was Mags, the designer’s idea. But hey, it’s something I probably really would do. I love curry puffs. I love Old Chang Kee – fresh and piping hot. Pastry cooked to golden perfection, crumbly and crunchy, the curry filling spicy and potato creamy – YUM! I can easily eat three at a go. Just ask any of my ex-colleagues. They’ve watched me dropping crumbs all over my keyboard while munching and writing stock market roundups. I’m a rather messy multi-tasker.

Anyway, back to curry puffs and food, July’s special report on Asia’s Top Chefs was particularly fun for me. Seriously, how can food not be fun? Especially when it’s part of my responsibilities as Editor to thoroughly research the special reports we’re publishing :)

So, after reading the first draft of Adrianna Tan’s story, I decided that I really had to fact check her article. Luckily for me, I happened to be going to Bangkok the following weekend. I got myself into a cab and went over to Bo.Lan for dinner.

Let me just say, I ate and ate and ate and ate … The food presentation was absolution gorgeous and everything tasted phenomenal. I don’t consider myself a gourmet foodie – I’m the OCK (Old Chang Kee) Girl. But for that evening, I was persuaded that there was more to life than deep fried pockets of curry.

Writing this blog is making me hungry. Hmmmmm, feels like the perfect time for a snack. Gee, I wonder what I should get … perhaps, possibly, yeah I think so – it’s CURRY PUFF TIME!

Later.