Si You Si Bi

(A Lionel Ritchie Say You, Say Me parody - mostly in Hokkien. ;-)

Si you, si bi, toot tiok claypot
Jing choot bi
Si you, si bi, toot tiok bachang
Jing jiak pang

I had a dream, that was sibeh cheem
Heiko in roti, putting orh luak in curry
What I made was so indeterminate
My stomach rumbled a shout, I had to throw up

Si you si bi, toot tiok porridge
ho seng li
Si you si bi, toot tiok kiam neng
buay jing ee

As we go down life's kitchen highway
Seems the hardest thing to do is find a helper or two
That able hand or a server you'll understand
That when you order laksa mai hum
She's not going to stand there and stare, "Shen mo tilam?'

Si you si bi, toot tiok tiong-kok nang
Bo cake ki
Si you si bi, toot tiok wa nang
Poon bi bi

- by TC Lai

*si yu - soy sauce
*si bi - is rice grain
*toot tiok - meet/bump into
*jing choot bi - very flavourful
*jing jiak pang - very fragrant
*ho seng li - good business
*buay jing ee - cannot recognise
*shen mo - 'what is' in Mandarin
*tilam - pillow
*tiong-kok - PRC (mainland Chinese)
*bo cake ki - direct/ no need to be polite
*poon bi bi - blow whistle (happy like a child)  

Don't Cry For Me SBM Members

(Sung to the tune of Don't Cry For Me Argentina)

I'm not greasy
You'll think it strange
I am a mud fish with a strange smell
That may be too strong 
for the discerning amongst you
You won't believe me
All you see is a meaty fish
you once knew
That could be dressed up to the nines
With garlic, shallots and rice wine!

I had to let it to happen
You'll think it strange
When all a fish wants is to stay at sea
Avoiding predators and
mermaids with RPGs
So I chose suicide
Biting at every bait I see
But nothing impressed me at all
Except for Angeline's bait lor

Chorus:
Don't cry for me SBM members!
The truth is I don't know half of you
You cut short my wild days
My river existence
So keep your promise
Make me delicious!

As for fortune, as for fame
It depends on which joint I go
Is the chef famous and 
innovative like René Redzepi
Some are pretenders
They are not Michelin-starred
as they all claimed to be
I better not waste my time
I love you and hope you'll soon gut me!

Don't cry for me SBM members!

Chorus:
Don't cry for me SBM members!
The truth is I don't know half of you
You cut short my wild days
My river existence
So keep your promise
Make me delicious!

Have I said too much
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you
But all you have to do 
Is look at the recipe books
And not waste my death, can you?

The End

- by TC Lai (another food inspired parody song) *SBM: Singapura Best Makan - an FB group.

The Jhok of Canton

(Sung to the Streets of London)

Have you seen the old man
In the old town market
Who cooks the jhok
That my mama used to make?
In his eyes you see the love
Like the strong fire in his stove 
Yesteryear's comfort made this morning's breakfast 

Chorus:
So now can you tell me why I'm crazy
For that old man's jhok that is so sublime
Let me take you by the hand and stir gently through those grains of porridge
Yesterday's memories return to blow the mind

Have you seen that old girl
Who also likes his porridge
She is 92, her clothes worn and old
She's no time for talking,
She just keeps on slurping
Thinking of her sweet mama of a 100 years ago

Chorus:
So now can you tell me why I'm crazy
For that old man's jhok that is so sublime
Let me take you by the hand and stir gently through those grains of porridge
Yesterday's memories return to blow the mind

In the all-night market
At a quarter past eleven
Same old man is still cooking on his own
Looking at the pot
Over the counter of his stove
The image of his one lady love
Is keeping him warm through the night

Chorus:
So now can you tell me why I'm crazy
For that old man's jhok that is so sublime
Let me take you by the hand and stir gently through those grains of porridge
Yesterday's memories return to blow the mind

Have you seen that old man
Who once used to make this porridge
His stove is quiet like the street that it stands by
In our fast paced city
Where hawker-food is dying like crazy
This one remembered porridge
Always brings a tear to my eye

Chorus:
So now can you tell me why I'm crazy
For that old man's jhok that is so sublime
Let me take you by the hand and stir gently through those grains of porridge
Yesterday's memories return to blow the mind

The End

Note: This ditty is dedicated to a 92-year old lady I met at a porridge stall in Pipit Road Market. She shared with me three Chinese medallion coins that her mom gave her when she was a young girl. They were the common talismans that mothers give their children to keep them from harm. She kept them in her purse all these years. And yes, the porridge reminded her of what her mom used to make. - TC Lai *Jhok is Cantonese for porridge. Alt spell: chok

Chaboh

(Sung to the tune of Skyfall)

This is my pants
Hold your breath and count to ten
Always the chaboh never end
See my gun they faint

For me no end
I'm speed bedding frame to frame
So overdued I owe them
So tired I snored

Let the chaboh
Don't come bother
Where's 008?
Oh how my body ache

Let the chaboh
Don't come bother
Where's 008?
Oh how my body ache!

Oh the chaboh
More the chaboh

Chaboh don't you start
You know you are not the only one
That is behaving like a tart
You can have my number, you can say my name
But you never win my heart!

Let the chaboh
Don't come bother
Where's 008?
Oh how my body ache!

Let the chaboh
Don't come bother
Where's 008?
Oh how my body ache!

Oh the chaboh

Where I go they go
When I sleep they sleep
When I pungsai they stand outside
Asking if no 1 or no 2
"Don't take too long James!
You know I haven't come
Oh James, oh James!"

OMG the chaboh
The queue never seems to end... (fade)

- by TC Lai *Chaboh - Hokkien dialect for woman/women. I use 'chaboh' in both singular and plural sense (as in native use).

Thigh Of My Own

(Sung to Home on the Range)

Oh, give me a thigh, a thigh of my own
Where the skin is shiny and smooth
And when I'm alone with this thigh of my own
I could do nothing but smooch

Kiss, kiss this thigh of mine
Whether white, roasted or grilled
I will drench you in gloss that's ginger and sauce
Then my heart is happy and thrilled

Oh, give me a thigh - a thigh of  my own
Where the meat is voluptuous and thick
I know I'll be shy with this oh-so lusty thigh 
And cross my legs to deny my stick

Thigh, thigh of my own
Where the meat is tender and nice
I'll sing you a song of disco ball and thongs
And pole dance you on a carpet of rice

Oh, give me a thigh - a thigh of my own
Where the meat reminds me of an old gal
She had thunder thighs and a waxed device 
That'll make a churchman forget his bell

No, no, this thigh of mine
It is too gorgeous and true
I shall not eat but frame you up instead
My eyes on you forever be glued

- by TC Lai (another food-inspired parody song derived from Molly's salted drumstick posting.)

Steamed

(Sung to the tune of Frozen - the dim sum version (btw, food terms are in Cantonese ;-))

The steam grows hot in the basket today
not a customer to be seen. 
An eatery in isolation 
who the hell will come and eat?
The burner is howling like a swirling storm inside.
Gosh, I'm puffing up, couldn't keep it in
Please open the lid and peek inside
Take us out and then you know
We are more then just for show!

Har gau so, har gau so
G cheong fun and wu tau go
Har gau so, har gau so
Seu cheng bao and mah tai go
I don't care, what people say
Just put me on a tray and push me around

It's funny how chicken legs 
are often called fung chao
And the pork ribs refer to
some pai kuat sin or saint
It's time they call a spade a spade
so we all know what we have on our plate
No fancy names, no innuendos
We're free

Har gau so, har gau so
Go eat get wind and fly
Har gau so, har gau so
Eat the chilli sob and cry
Here I'll stay, beneath another tray
Let the steam burner rage on

My spoon flurry through my porridge
and drop onto the floor
The waiter picks it up and asks 
if I want some more
A dim sum thought crystallizes into one big bao
I'm never going back, after an Amy Yip Big Bao!

Har gau so, har gau so
I'll rise at the break of dawn
Har gau so, har gau so
That plate of g cheong fun is gone
Here I sit, happy as bird

Let the steamer hum on
Dim sum constipation never hurt anyone

- by TC Lai (another parody song inspired by an SBM post)

A Different Fly

A fly once had a miserable life
A life that was by no means different
It did all the things that flies do
Which was mostly hanging by the dumps

"Dad, do you really like this place?"
Asked the youngster fly
"Yes, of course, son,"
Nodded dad, not really wondering why

Son-fly turned up his nose
Couldn't stand the taste nor smell
"Dad, I am leaving here.
"I'll find a better place than this obnoxious hell

So son-fly flew up and onwards
Letting the wind of grass guide him
That took a while, for rubbish was everywhere
While the sight of grass was slim

When he landed at a stop
A well primmed lady sat with a hat
A hat with pinned-on flowers
A free ride for which the fly was glad

On she wandered for high tea
To the local hotel and buffet hall
Such a spread of goodies the fly had 
Never, ever seen or dreamt of before

His compound eyes grew large
His probocis flared in and out
Ooh, is this the nirvana
That flies see before lights out?

"Fly, fly to the American Pie
So damn delicious I die-die must try
Them good ole boys drink longkang jui and sai
Dang, I am hanging about here till I die
This is the day that I will die..."

And so the son-fly hummed 
As the speaker played
To that classic American anthem
Of whiskey in rye and good ole American hay

Then off he flew to the American Pie
By the sugared drinks and goods baked
Till he spied something yellow
Hmm, is that some kind of rice cake?

He settled down on the sushi bar
On a piece of sushi omelette
Ooh, cooked food and so fresh
For once no need to hide his gourmet side

Such yellow on white
Like the yolk on egg one time he found
Like the sun awaking in the morning
Something his pals never found profound

So this special fly knelt and said a little prayer
Dear Lord, thank you thank you for this trip
You have made me different
But I know now it is not a wasted trait

As the son-fly waxed lyrical of the sushi knob
A lady too was gawking at the pleasant sight
Till later she saw the son-fly on the dish
She quickly posted on FB and indicated the slight

"Would you do anything if you spotted
 A housefly rested on the sushi?"
Some said to call for the waiter
While others thought eat with the fly lor, silly

That is quite the thought
As I've found gourmands pleasant company
But not for once have I entertained
Eating one just for posterity

And I never knew what happened to Son-fly
But I doubt it survived long
I just hope it made the journey though
To that American Pie mentioned in the song

- by TC Lai *longkang jui and sai - drain water and poop/rubbish (Hokkien).