A New Start

FT: Letters - Economists Have Never Heard of Sex

 

Economists have never heard of sex

From Mr Philip Wood.

Sir, One question posed by Alan Beattie is whether lawyers or economists actually rule the world (“Take a deep breath, economists, it’s time for the lawyers”, June 18). The real question is, who should rule the world? I think economists have a lot going for them. But there are some crucial things missing.

First, although economists have vaguely heard of the rule of law, they are not quite sure how it fits into the metrics. They are primarily interested in function, efficiency and the weighing of costs and benefits.

Second, lawyers from ancient times have been close to emotions and how they should be tamed. As to economists, when John Maynard Keynes referred to “animal spirits” or Alan Greenspan to “irrational exuberance”, these were considered flashes of rare profundity. Rational economists adhere to the notion that we are not stupid, never panic and never do anything out of rage, envy, lust or greed. Economists have never heard of sex.

You can see these contrasts symbolised in the works of the titans of the two disciplines. Compare, for example, the limited scope of the code of conduct enunciated by one of the great heroes of economists, Adam Smith, with the code of one of the first major lawyers, the man with his 10 bullet points on the top of a mountain.

So, as regards the rightful rulers of the world, my money is on the lawyers.

Philip Wood,

Shere, Surrey, UK

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011

FT: Dog walking with the FT: Jane Goodall

Dog walking with the FT: Jane Goodall

By Stephen Pincock

Published: June 24 2011 22:29 | Last updated: June 24 2011 22:29

It’s a crisp winter’s afternoon in Sydney. The sky is blue, and a frosty wind is blowing down Middle Harbour and across the grassy expanse of The Spit Reserve, a dog-friendly park. Wrapped up in a long cream coat, Dame Jane Goodall emerges into the squall from a black 4x4. “Oh, it’s cold here!” she gasps.

EDITOR’S CHOICE

Judo with the FT: Thierry Marx - Jun-17

Cricket with the FT: Hugh Grant - Jun-10

Kitbag: Cycling - Jun-17

Pursuits: Bike building... with the FT - May-27

Kitbag: camping - Jun-03

Games, mindsets and matches - Jun-03

The briskness is put aside, however, when I introduce her to Sam, my family’s small, shaggy, excitable dog – and our companion for the afternoon. “Hello, Sam,” she calls, and suggests I let him off the leash. Sam promptly sprints for the beach, where other dogs are running and swimming. “That’s better,” she says, and follows him down to the sand.

For more than 50 years, Goodall has been famous as the woman who taught the world about chimpanzees. As a young woman with little more than secretarial training, she was chosen by the anthropologist Louis Leakey to live among a group of chimpanzees and study their behaviour.

View the slideshow

Soon after arriving in the Gombe national park in Tanzania in 1960, Goodall found a vantage point 500ft above Lake Tanganyika, where she could watch the chimps in the valley below – particularly one she named David Greybeard. Within five months she saw him doing something of tremendous significance – using a stem of grass as a tool to extract termites from a nest. It was an enormous discovery. Until that point, tool use was considered the defining characteristic of humanity, the thing that set us apart from the animals.

Although Goodall continues to be closely involved with chimpanzee research, since the 1980s her focus has been on the wider issues of conservation, particularly through a youth programme called Roots & Shoots. This is now active in 127 countries and encourages young people to take on projects to help other animals and the environment. Goodall’s philosophy – that each of us can make a difference every day – clearly chimes with the growing numbers of people taking part.

Delivering that message has turned her into a kind of Ancient Mariner of the environmental movement. She is never in the same place for more than three weeks. For years now, she’s been on the road more than 300 days a year, working 15-hour days, seven days a week.

Now 77, Goodall is slight, but not frail. Her white hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and her unlined face exudes calm. There’s also a mischievous twitch at the corner of her mouth, and a twinkle in her eye. As she and Sam wrestle with sticks, she tells me how important dogs were as an inspiration for her early work.

An intelligent – “quite opinionated” – mutt called Rusty was her childhood companion, teaching her that animals other than humans do have emotions. When she emerged from the jungle, she reported that chimps, too, were emotional beings. The then scientific establishment dismissed the idea out of hand. “University professors told me that animals do not have emotions. But Rusty and other animals had taught me that was wrong.” Things have come a long way, she notes. “These days you can study the animal mind at universities, and even animal personality and emotions.”

Although she travels too much to have one of her own, dogs remain an important part of Goodall’s life. “People think that my favourite animals are chimps, but I don’t really think of them as animals any more than I think of humans as animals – although we are of course. In fact, dogs are my favourite, because of the deep relationship they have with us. There’s something about having a dog in a room full of people that just illustrates that so well. It opens the heart. And if it doesn’t, they’re not the sort of people I want to know.”

Her constant travelling means that Goodall is fortunate enough to meet a range of people she does want to know, from inner-city kids to heads of state. At a conference a couple of days earlier, she had talked about how important dogs are for contentment. Later, she shared a dinner table with the Dalai Lama. At one point, she overheard the spiritual leader telling a young woman to look after her father, who was reaching the age where he might fall and break a hip. The Dalai Lama then turned to Goodall and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, saying, “That’s you, too.” Goodall playfully tapped him back, “And you!”

We clamber up from the beach and walk towards the house she’s staying at. Sam trots between us, Goodall keeping an eye on him with gentle but firm commands. “I get so upset by the way people think that in order to train a dog you’ve got to have dominance and that you’ve got to have instant obedience,” she says.

When I first thought of suggesting to Goodall that we take the dog for a walk, I had been worried she would be opposed to the whole idea of having pets, or keeping animals in zoos, but her views are more nuanced than that. “We have this glorified idea of freedom,” she says. “For chimps, living somewhere like Gombe is certainly the ideal – but if you’re a chimp in the wild elsewhere in Africa, there’s always a tension from destruction of their habitats, poachers and so on. Or there’s a risk of being captured for medical research or circuses or pets. So next to Gombe, a good modern zoo with a good amount of space, safety and people around who care for them and look after them, is also good.

“Most people don’t bother to put themselves in the position of a chimp,” she says. “They assume they know best.”

Once we’re at the house, Goodall and I continue talking while Sam dashes around the garden. But after a few minutes, someone brings him back on the leash, explaining that he had nearly eaten one of the neighbour’s pair of free-roaming rabbits. I start to give him a stern talking-to, but Goodall quickly comes to Sam’s defence. “He’s not naughty, he’s just being a dog.”

Dogs and humans have forged a shared bond of understanding since man and wolf first joined forces, but Goodall has noted that chimps also seem to get along well with canines. “It’s fascinating,” she says. “I’d love to study it. I’ve seen many examples of dogs and chimps that form close bonds. I even wrote a children’s book about one.” That book, Rickie and Henri, tells the true story of a chimp sold as a pet in Congo. He bonds with a dog, who carries him on his back.

As we make our farewells – Goodall has another appointment to get to – she gives Sam a final pat. “He’ll sleep well tonight,” she says. “And he’ll be dreaming of rabbits.”

For information on the Jane Goodall Institute, visit www.janegoodall.org.uk

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011

FT: Economists

 

Stop me if you’ve heard this before

Published: June 9 2011 02:02 | Last updated: June 9 2011 02:02

From Mr Craig Pouncey.

Sir, Reading Luke Johnson’s article on economists (“The dismal science is bereft of good ideas”, Business Life, June 8) reminded me of an old joke, the provenance of which I do not now recall, about economists being men who know a hundred different ways to make love, but who have never had a girlfriend.

Craig Pouncey,

Tervuren, Belgium

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011.

The dismal science is bereft of good ideas

By Luke Johnson

Published: June 7 2011 22:43 | Last updated: June 7 2011 22:43

I fail to see the point of professional economists. They purport to know about trade and finance, about markets and credit, but I struggle to identify the actual benefits of all their expensive advice and esoteric debates.

For example, they really should be able to provide the answers we need about job creation, but where are they? How are new jobs created, by whom and under what conditions? Countries such as Spain are crippled with 40 per cent youth unemployment: what pragmatic solutions do the economists offer to this disaster?

EDITOR’S CHOICE

Luke Johnson: US and UK as start-up rivals - May-31

Luke Johnson: Private lesson for the not for profits - May-24

Luke Johnson: A good café can perk up a start-up - May-17

Luke Johnson: Publishers must seize digital challenge - May-10

Luke Johnson: Empire builders fall prey to their vanity - May-03

Luke Johnson: Raise a glass to maverick magnates - Apr-26

The only response I know to this nightmare is to encourage entrepreneurs to start new companies. Such bold individuals cannot rely on arcane economics papers, obscure formulas or dry speeches, delivered by academics who prefer theory over practice. Instead, entrepreneurs embrace clever inventions and vigorous execution.

The fact that most economics textbooks barely mention entrepreneurs – and when they do they miss the point – shows that most “dismal scientists” are out of touch and unversed in the real workings of marketplaces.

I sat on a panel at an entrepreneur summit recently with Britain’s minister for business, Vince Cable – a full-time economist before he became a politician. He delivered a speech during which he made much of a fact that was so obviously wrong that it was simply embarrassing: he stated that 90 per cent of the angel investing in Britain takes place in Scotland – suggesting England should learn from Scots’ prowess. Unlike the minister or his speechwriter, I am involved in angel investing, so I know what a foolish error this was. It makes me despair that we are led by such men, with researchers who are so amateurish.

Or take Paul Krugman, the Nobel laureate and Princeton professor who pontificates in the New York Times. His gloomy prognostications and obsession with slamming the Republicans mean he offers nothing by way of useful advice to those of us who actually run a business.

And the most dangerous economist of modern times is surely Alan Greenspan, the former head of US Federal Reserve who cheered America over a cliff.

No doubt most economists believe that policymakers, financiers and entrepreneurs should listen better to their forecasts and ideas. Yet where were the widespread predictions of the credit crisis? How many called the US housing bust correctly? Armies of brilliant economists were paid magnificent salaries by all the banks that almost destroyed the west. Did none of these geniuses warn their master? Instead, they produced flawed models that encouraged stupidity. Most impressive business managers ignore the volumes of statistics churned out by economists: they know that what matters is not how the market in general is doing, but if your customers are happy and your margins are sufficient.

One of the more extraordinary aspects of the discipline of economics is that a surprising proportion of practitioners is employed by the state. They pronounce on capitalism for a living, yet do not participate in the world of private enterprise, its underlying engine. This means they have a distorted perspective on how business actually functions.

Give me the company of artisans who create tangible things, like the bakers and chefs with whom I work in my restaurant companies. They might lack some of the rhetorical finesse of the economics commentators we read or hear through the media – but their practical skills are of vastly greater value to society than the pseudo-science espoused by Krugman et al. As John Maynard Keynes said: “If economists could manage to get themselves thought of as humble, competent people on a level with dentists, that would be splendid.”

The best move for the world’s economists would be to each start their own business. Then they would experience at first hand the challenges of capitalism on the front line. And for those who couldn’t cope with such a brave step, perhaps they could turn to philosophy, and teach us all how to lead more moral lives. I’m sure that would be more useful than what they do now.

E-mail Luke Johnson

The writer runs Risk Capital Partners, a private equity firm, and is chairman of the Royal Society of Arts

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011.

FT: Design - Kenneth Grange

Collecting special: Everywhere and nowhere

By Edwin Heathcote

Published: May 27 2011 22:35 | Last updated: May 27 2011 22:35

Designer Kenneth Grange at home in London

Kenneth Grange is ubiquitous. The day before I went to talk to him I’d taken a trip on one of the trains he designed and had got into one of the London taxi cabs he designed. I shaved with one of his razors, opened a door using one of his handles and waited for a bus at one of his bus shelters. No other designer has had the same impact on the London environment.

Yet his name will be largely unfamiliar, even to many design aficionados, and the forthcoming show at London’s Design Museum will be his first major exhibition for almost 30 years.

EDITOR’S CHOICE

Now 82, Grange was born in London to what he describes as “an ordinary background, flowers on the wallpaper, you know the kind of the thing.” At school he showed a talent for drawing and worked first as a scene painter for the fledgling BBC TV studios. He then studied at the Willesden School of Art and began working for architects, notably with Jack Howe and Bronek Katz. From bits and pieces of street furniture and fittings designed while with architects he went on to become a pioneering product designer, a field which – although established in the US and Germany – was only just emerging in Britain.

Grange exemplifies a type of industrial designer synonymous with an era of faith in modernism, a passionately held conviction that design could be used to make life and society better. If the designer today is presented by the PR machine as an artist and superstar, Grange represents an era when it was corporations rather than galleries who turned to successful designers.

Grange is sitting with me in his Hampstead house, one of the fruits of his success in the 1960s when he was the most efficacious industrial designer in the country and a partner in the pioneering multi-disciplinary design agency Pentagram.

We’re sitting at a big table which serves for dining, display, drawing, even model-making. There’s a workshop outside as well, a place of meticulous craft in which every tool has its rigorously designated place. But for now, Grange is surrounded by papers and photos from a full career, trying to hone down a representative sample for the exhibition. Does this mountain of stuff, I wonder, make him reassess his career?

“It’s a bit like looking at a family photo album,” he says. “I keep seeing things I’ve forgotten. I’m pleased, perhaps a little disappointed at some moments, but I was lucky to work on a lot of exciting things. I got into this trade [industrial design] so early that clients still had no experience of employing anyone like me and so I was, by default, pushing at the boundaries.

“It also displays all these social phenomena – shows how much life has changed. Everybody used to smoke, so I have a huge catalogue of designs for lighters. And there were paraffin heaters – it’s easy to forget it wasn’t so long ago that not everyone had central heating. And then, almost overnight, those markets disappeared.”

But there were plenty of others to replace them. Grange was commissioned by an extraordinary number of leading companies, in an era when Britain still had a big manufacturing base. He designed the first Kenwood Chef food mixer, irons for Morphy Richards, cameras for Kodak, washing machines for Bendix, pens for Parker, razors for Wilkinson Sword. He designed Britain’s first parking meter in 1958 and computer terminals for Reuters. His designs formed the background to everyday life in Britain during the postwar era. How did he manage to design so much? “Well, I’ve always had a bit of a work ethic,” he replies with the cheeky beginnings of a grin. “If you work 12 hours a day, six or seven days a week, you soon find you’re ahead of every other bugger.”

One job from 1968 exemplifies Grange’s particular combination of hard work, initiative, charm and chutzpah. “I’d been approached by British Rail to design a livery for a new train. It was a bloody ugly thing, it looked like a barrel with a port-hole at the front, but I’d learned never to say no to a commission. I’d done some bits and pieces for British Rail by then already – I had a bit of a track record. So, without permission, we started working on a new design, on what a train could be. We tested models in a wind tunnel (slipping the lab technicians at Imperial College a fiver) and we took along the new models, along with all the wind-tunnel information to British Rail.” It’s hard to imagine a designer today being commissioned for a paint job and coming in with a new train, but that’s what happened. And he got the job. The InterCity 125 became the archetypal high-speed locomotive, its sleek nose and simple lines still influential today, over 40 years since it was designed.

When I later ask which of his designs he is most proud of he tells me: “The train still takes some beating. There’s nothing like having to live with your designs and it sounds arrogant but there’s not much I would change about it today.”

Grange is still active but his designs are smaller in scale and for far smaller, design-conscious British manufacturers. The huge British consumer product industry with which he made his name has come and gone, virtually within the span of his career. Grange has eschewed the neophiliac, burgeoning world of “design art”, instead concentrating on functional products. How does he view the world of contemporary design and production? “The problem is that it all begins – and ends – with the manufacturing base. And we don’t have a manufacturing base any more. I’ve always admired the Germans for governmentally supporting manufacture but British culture is different, it’s buccaneering. It’s highly paid managers manipulating finance. It’s a completely different model.”

We begin to wrap up, flicking through images of endless designs, many still unfamiliar to me even though I thought I knew his oeuvre well. “I’ve been lucky,” he says. “Design education now is big business [he is also Visiting Professor at London’s Royal College of Art]. There are all these young designers coming out of colleges now and what are they going to do? The big corporations don’t even have design departments like they used to. Some of the kids will fall by the wayside, others are virtually forced into producing one-offs and that way design inevitably becomes a kind of art.”

Can design really be art? “I think design in its highest form can be art. The work of the great Scandinavians – think of Arne Jacobsen.” He starts deftly sketching Jacobsen’s stainless steel Cylinda Line coffee pot. “Look at that,” he says. “It’s sculpturally, graphically perfect. It’s comfortable and it works, you couldn’t make it any better and that takes exceptional skill. Or,” he grins, “it could just be the most amazing accident.”

‘Kenneth Grange: Making Modern Britain’, Design Museum, London July 20-October 30. www.designmuseum.org

..................................................

Works by Kenneth Grange: Part of the British landscape

Many of Kenneth Grange’s creations are so integral to British life that we hardly notice them as pieces of self-conscious “design” – which may, of course, be the highest compliment one can pay to an aesthetically pleasing object or machine whose form and function mesh seamlessly. The pleasing lines of British Rail’s 125 train (1968), the London taxi updated in 1997, sleek lamps, irons, washing machines, cameras and chairs for well-known manufacturers are all part of his repertoire.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011.

ST: GE's new Internet star

Prime News

Home > Prime News > Story

May 10, 2011

GE 2011

GE's new Internet star

By Tessa Wong

Returning Officer Yam Ah Mee, who was previously chief of the Land Transport Authority, sashaying down a makeshift 'catwalk' during a charity event at Paya Lebar MRT station last year. -- ST PHOTO: LIM SIN THAI

 

UNTIL around midnight on Saturday, Mr Yam Ah Mee was the quintessential faceless civil servant.

As Singapore's Returning Officer (RO), he does his work in ensuring a smooth and impartial general election out of the public eye.

But since his live television announcement of the election results, Mr Yam has become an overnight sensation. Netizens have elevated him to folk hero status, after watching him make his delivery in a monotone and with a poker face.

A Facebook fan page called 'Yah Ah Mee, Returning Officer Extra-ordinaire' has drawn more than 37,600 'likes' since it was set up on Sunday. A fake Facebook account meant as a tribute to Mr Yam has also been set up, while on his real Facebook account, his friends count has doubled to 2,380.

Netizens have remixed recordings of his announcements into at least nine thumping dance tracks and uploaded them on YouTube. One has Mr Yam's voice tweaked to sound like he is singing the Aljunied GRC results, with the chorus: 'Yo, yo, yo. George Yeo!'

Fans are passing around photoshopped pictures of Mr Yam as James Bond or advertising medicated oil. One even designed 'I Love Yam Ah Mee' mugs, badges and T-shirts, and started selling them on Facebook yesterday. The designer, 27-year-old marketing communications executive Xylvie Huang, received more than 70 orders in four hours. The effusive reaction appears to be a spillover of the excitement over the historic results, which sent the most opposition MPs into Parliament since Independence.

Mr Yam's Facebook fan page states: 'We all love Mr Yam - please don't hate on him. He has become a symbol of the results for us, and we're just so excited about this GE.'

What does Mr Yam make of his newfound popularity?

The People's Association chief executive director told The Straits Times: 'I was surprised so many people liked me online. I don't see it as a compliment for myself, but for all the election officers who helped to make the election a smooth one.'

Explaining his delivery, he said: 'I felt it was important to announce clearly, concisely and impartially.' He had a throat operation that affected his voice when he was young, he added.

Yesterday, he left a modest note on his fan page: 'Hi everyone, thanks for all your interest :) Just trying to do a good job as RO.'

ST: Delicious reads

Lifestyle

Home > Lifestyle > Hot > Story

May 1, 2011

Delicious reads

Roll over, big bookshops. Here come the small indie bookstores which offer a cosy atmosphere complete with cafes

By Nicholas Yong

 

Fancy a quiet read and a cuppa in a bookshop that reminds you of your own living room? Perhaps listen to some music too, and play a few games or a round of pool?

A handful of bookstore cafes have sprung up in recent months which all have the same kooky cool bookworm vibe. All of them are passion projects started by book lovers and all are located in conserved shophouses.

Their books are not shrink-wrapped and you are welcome to browse for as long as you like. Food and beverages, including booze, are also available.

Their target market is customers like teacher Noorul Raaha As'art, 29, who reads an average of a book a week and has grown tired of large bookstores.

She says: 'I prefer small bookstores because they are cosier and the owners give more personalised service.'

The Pigeonhole, which opened just a month ago in Duxton Road, is the newest entry. Co-owners Rayner Lim, 32, and Ave Chan, 26, poured their life savings into a space that was meant to be an 'embodiment of all the things we liked', says Ms Chan.

The small collection of 200 books is almost secondary - amateur musicians perform there most nights and various arts, NGO and charity events have also been held there.

Just down the road is Littered With Books, which opened seven months ago. It was started by four professionals from the legal and financial industries with a mutual love of books.

Co-owner Sheela M., in her 40s, says: 'Reading is a very solitary exercise, but part of the joy of this is the opportunity to meet other people who love to read.'

A short walk away in Bukit Pasoh is Books Cellar, a cafe-bar with an extensive collection of horror books and thrillers by renowned authors such as Anne Rice and Clive Barker. The books are deliberately placed randomly to encourage browsing.

There is even a section filled with reading copies, with bookmarks given to customers who read those books.

Co-owner Chang Hon Vie, 39, says: 'I import horror titles from the United States for like-minded people who also love horror.'

Over in Siglap, The Little Bookshop has beverages and gelato to go with its signature offering - weekly storytelling sessions for children aged 31/2 years and above, at $5 a child. 'How many parents actually sit down with their kids to read to them?' says owner Irene Hwa, 44, who works in marketing.

The bookstores have already won over customers such as Web journalist Wong Joon Ian, 30, who frequents The Pigeonhole two to three times a month.

'It has just the right mix of technology geeks, artsy folks and just generally interesting people,' says Mr Wong. �

nicy@sph.com.sg

---

-- ST PHOTO: CHEW SENG KIM

BOOKS CELLAR

Where: 19 Bukit Pasoh Road, tel: 6220-9019

Open: Noon to midnight (weekdays), noon to 10pm (Sundays). Closed on Tuesdays.

Info: ask@bookscellar.com

The vibe: Reminiscent of a European bistro, with a relaxed atmosphere that begs you to sit down and read. Its slogan: Bookstore cafe by day, bar by night.

The decor also features vintage telephones from co-owner Chang Hon Vie's collection. Printed menus are placed between the covers of hardcover fairy-tale books. There is even a vintage cash register that works.

And if you get tired of reading, head for the back of the store for a quick round of pool.

The books: Contemporary authors such as Stephen King and Stephenie Meyer are well represented here, as well as old-school horror authors such as H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.

Prices start at $15 for paperbacks, $22 for trade paperbacks and $32 for hardcovers. The prices of limited editions are based on market prices and book availability/condition.

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THE LITTLE BOOKSHOP

Where: 687A East Coast Road, Level 2, tel: 6677-3083

Open: Noon to 9pm (Tuesdays to Thursdays), 1.30 to 10.30pm (Fridays), noon to 10.30pm (Saturdays), noon to 9pm (Sundays). Closed on Mondays.

Info: www.thelittlebookshop.com.sg

The vibe: A short walk up a flight of stairs reveals a large, quiet, comfortable space with chairs and tables aplenty. Storytelling sessions with props are conducted by staff every week in a small reading room at the back of the store.

The books: An eclectic mix of adult fiction, children's books and cooking books. There is also a section devoted to local authors and poets such as Adeline Foo and Felix Cheong. Books are priced between $12 and $25.

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LITTERED WITH BOOKS

Where: 20 Duxton Road, tel: 6220-6824

Open: 11am to 7pm. Closed on Mondays.

Info: www.litteredwithbooks.com

The vibe: Definitely the place for book lovers, with shelves lined with books from top to bottom. Sunlight streaming in through a skylight almost makes the books glow and instantly makes you want to stay on and browse.

Upstairs, more books and several comfy chairs await. Along the way, quotes and proverbs about books and reading decorate the wall. At the top of the stairs and to the left lies the store's quirkiest feature - a flight of stairs that ascends, then ends abruptly.

Free coffee and water are available if you want a drink, though you can make a contribution to help defray costs.

The books: An extensive collection - travel and food narratives, science-fiction, crime, fantasy, cooking and children's books. Whether it is Afghan author Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner or British celebrity chef Jamie Oliver's books, they are likely to be found here.

Prices start from $15 for softcovers and $29 for hardcovers.

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THE PIGEONHOLE

Where: 52 and 53 Duxton Road, tel: 9627-2586

Open: 10am to 11pm (Tuesdays to Thursdays), 10 to 1am (Fridays), 11.30 to 1am (Saturdays), 11.30am to 11pm (Sundays). Closed on Mondays.

Info: www.thepigeonhole.com.sg

The vibe: A vintage sewing machine sits in a corner near a stone bench.

With books scattered on little bookshelves, couches and armchairs and coffee available from just $2.50, this really does feel like your living room, with free Wi-Fi to boot.

The wall down the middle dividing the two units also makes it easier to host events and games. For example, twice a month, a Powerpoint Karaoke competition is held. This involves making up a coherent story on the spot from 10 random Powerpoint slides. The prize is a bottle of wine.

The books: With titles such as The Chinese Road To Socialism and authors such as Sigmund Freud, the tomes on offer are admittedly 'not light reading', says co-owner Rayner Lim.

Many of the books, purchased from Malaysia, India and Thailand, date back to the 1960s and 1970s and are out of print. Prices start from as low as $7, with most books going for under $20.

ST: Dog days

Apr 16, 2011

Dog days

View this photo

 

A dog taking shelter under the shade of an umbrella as it is being walked at Tampines Street 21 yesterday.

Sweltering noon heat, followed by thunderstorms later in the day, can be expected until June as Singapore undergoes the inter-monsoon season, says the weatherman.

ST PHOTO: LIM WUI LIANG

FT: TMB, Panyee FC

 

 

The public image: TMB

By Tim Johnston

Published: April 4 2011 22:47 | Last updated: April 4 2011 22:47

Agency: Leo Burnett and Arc Worldwide
Territory: Thailand
Verdict:

Most Thai television advertising is not subtle: a line of winsome young women, preferably dancing, seems to be the preferred solution to selling everything from chocolates to coffee.

Which is possibly why a recent campaign by TMB – formerly Thai Military Bank – has made such an impact. TMB has launched a series of four TV ads recounting the true story of the foundation of Panyee Football Club on a tiny island with so little flat land that they had to build a floating mini pitch out of driftwood before going on to become one of the country’s most successful amateur teams.

The ads, which were shot by Australian director Matt Devine using locals from Panyee Island, are a feel-good mixture of humour and inspiration. Each mini-episode ends with a challenge faced by the team and the question “What would you do?” before flashing up the TMB tagline.

Paradai Theerathada, who commissioned the ads for TMB, says the bank could not have opted for a more conventional campaign because of its traditional tagline. “Our brand is ‘Make the difference’ so we couldn’t go with the status quo,” he explains.

The unwritten subscript is of the underdogs – TMB is Thailand’s sixth-largest bank – using ingenuity and hard work to overcome the challenges of their situation, and on those grounds it succeeds triumphantly.

 

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011.

FT: Five great rail journeys

Five great rail journeys

By Mark Smith

Published: February 4 2011 22:01 | Last updated: February 4 2011 22:01

The Trans-Siberian in Russia

Mark Smith, a former station manager in London, is the founder of the train travel website www.seat61.com (a reference to his favourite seat on the Eurostar). His latest book, The Man in Seat 61 – Worldwide: A Guide to Train Travel Beyond Europe (Bantam Press) is published this week. Here he picks his five favourite rail journeys.

. . .

London to Fort William by Caledonian Sleeper

Every night except Saturdays, the Caledonian Sleeper leaves London’s Euston station on a 550-mile overnight trip to the Highlands of Scotland, with two sleeping-cars to Fort William up front. I love the practicality of this train, leaving London after work and arriving in the magical West Highlands next morning, five minutes walk from the foot of Ben Nevis. I love the cosy comfort of a private one- or two-bed sleeper with crisp clean sheets, and relaxing in the lounge car with a decent single malt. I relish the contrast between suburban evening and highland morning, retiring to bed as the train hustles through one of Britain’s busiest main lines to wake next morning to the twists and turns of a Scottish single track. Best of all I love the highland scenery, the horseshoe curve beneath the brooding silhouette of Beinn Odhar, the Siberian bleakness of Rannoch Moor, and the turbulent rapids of Monessie Gorge. “Bargain berth” fares start at £39 with sleeper berth and light breakfast, see www.scotrail.co.uk.

EDITOR’S CHOICE

Sydney’s thriving bar scene - Mar-18

The five-star resort on the site of a Vietnamese prison camp - Mar-18

Wi-fi too high? - Mar-18

The man who skied America - Mar-18

Alone in paradise - Mar-11

Short cuts: March 11 - Mar-11

. . .

Across the US on Amtrak’s Lake Shore Limited and California Zephyr

“All aboard!” That time-honoured cry, ringing through New York’s Pennsylvania station, heralds the start of an epic 3,397-mile, three-night crossing of the United States. The journey starts with the Lake Shore Limited to Chicago, racing north along the scenic Hudson River before turning west overnight through Ohio and Indiana. In the Windy City next morning, you can climb the Willis (formerly Sears) Tower for spectacular views over Chicago before boarding the legendary California Zephyr. Its gleaming double-deck Superliner cars roll through Illinois and across the Mississippi into Iowa, then overnight to Denver. Now for my favourite part of the journey, breakfast in the diner followed by a morning in the Sightseer lounge as the train winds its way into the Rockies, peaking at more than 9,000ft before meandering through spectacular Colorado canyons. After lunch in Utah, the scenery broadens out, a dusty plain bounded by curious rock formations and mesas, followed next day by the arid scrub of the Nevada desert. After Reno, the train climbs once more, this time through the snowy fir forests of California’s Sierra Nevada before descending to the Pacific Ocean. A ticket from New York to San Francisco starts at $193 per person at www.amtrak.com, in a spacious reclining seat. The upgrade to a private sleeper for one or two people costs from $395 per room including meals.

. . .

Delhi to Shimla on the Himalayan Queen

When the heat and bustle of India’s capital become too much, head for the hills on the Himalayan Queen. Leaving Delhi’s Sarai Rohilla station at 5.40am, the broad gauge train races across the dusty plain to Kalka, with the air conditioning whirring in its comfortable AC Chair car. At Kalka, the real fun starts as you transfer to the famous, narrow gauge “toy train” for the ascent to Shimla. The little train snakes its way up into the cool air of the Himalayan foothills, in places doubling back on itself, clinging to the wooded hillsides with the agility of a mountain goat. It finally pulls into India’s old summer capital at 5.20pm. Fare in AC Chair car Rs562 (£8), buy tickets at the station or via www.cleartrip.com.

. . .

Auckland to Wellington aboard the Overlander

Tourists flock to the South Island’s scenic TranzAlpine train but, for my money, New Zealand’s most interesting, historic and useful train is on the North Island, linking the economic and political capitals. Leaving Auckland at 7.25am, daily in summer (Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays in winter), the Overlander is an epic 12-hour ride over the historic North Island Main Trunk Railway, including such engineering feats as the Raurimu Spiral and the Makatote Viaduct. It passes almost every type of scenery there is, from volcanoes to river gorges, coastline to rainforest, calling at Tongariro national park on the way. Auckland to Wellington costs NZ$131 (£66), www.tranzscenic.co.nz.

. . .

Moscow to Beijing on the Trans-Siberian Railway

The Trans-Siberian has two weekly trains linking Moscow with Beijing. From Moscow, train 20 leaves every Friday taking the Trans-Manchurian route to China but the Trans-Mongolian line taken by train four is arguably the more interesting. Leaving Moscow every Tuesday night, for the first few days the train trundles past endless birch trees and Siberian villages with muddy streets and wooden houses, crossing from Europe into Asia at the boundary obelisk, 1,777km east of Moscow. On day five, the train rounds Lake Baikal, the world’s deepest freshwater lake. Turning south off the Trans-Siberian towards Mongolia, each carriage is jacked up at the border and its wheels changed from Russian to standard gauge. Calling briefly at the Mongolian capital Ulan Bator, it then crosses the Gobi desert. Next day, the train tackles the mountains of northern China before arriving in Beijing that afternoon, six nights and 4,735 miles from Moscow. The train is comfortable though not luxurious, and with so many nationalities on board, a party atmosphere takes hold. You’re unlikely to be bored. Moscow to Beijing costs about £540 with a bed in a four-bed sleeper, booked through www.realrussia.co.uk.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011

FT: MArmalade

 

Kitchen stories: Oranges are the only fruit

By Sybil Kapoor

Published: January 7 2011 22:01 | Last updated: January 7 2011 22:01

Testers at the Marmalade Awards in Cumbria

 

EDITOR’S CHOICE

Caff culture - Jan-14

The trend: iPhone food apps - Jan-14

The taste test: detox teas - Jan-14

Some like it haute: Jean Ducloux - Jan-07

FT Foodies: Tom Daley - Jan-07

The Corporate Diner: brunch at Bupa HQ - Jan-07

Like most avid marmalade makers, Dr Yen-Chung Chong’s methods are very particular. The retired biochemist, based in Brighton first squeezes the juice from Sicilian blush oranges and some lemons. Then he filters the liquid overnight through a jelly bag, reboils the debris with water and adds hand-cut rind. The liquids and zest are boiled with white cane sugar and home-made Seville orange pectin; finally, he pours in campari.

This quirky recipe won Dr Chong the “double-gold” laurels at last year’s World’s Original Marmalade Awards, held annually in Cumbria. Established in 2006 by Jane Hasell-McCosh, this sticky celebration has shown that home cooks and small artisan makers are doing much to change a delicacy that has been made in Britain for more than 300 years, but has made little progress save for switching from a dinner-table treat to a breakfast toast staple.

“I love marmalade and I really wanted to do something to try and improve its quality,” Hasell-McCosh says. “Amazingly, it’s taken on a life all of its own. Last year we had over 800 entries.” British shops sell Seville oranges in the last three weeks of January, so the festival is held over a weekend in mid-February at Hasell-McCosh’s stately home, Dalemain Mansion, crammed for two days with tables laden with amber- and russet-coloured jars.

Hasell-McCosh receives entries from all over the world, including a yuzu marmalade from Japan, which is “definitely an acquired taste”. To meet demand, she has added three new categories to the competition – International, Inventive and Family Affair. All of which might sound a little eccentric, until you realise that Hasell-McCosh is a natural marmalade marketing genius. Amateurs can enter myriad groups, from Military and Clergy to Bed and Breakfast. The entry money goes to charity.

Everyone from Michael Bond (author of the Paddington Bear books) to manufacturers such as Thursday Cottage are involved. As Pam Corbin, judge and author of The River Cottage Handbook No 2: Preserves, says: “it’s a marvellous meeting place for marmalade makers, and it’s gaining momentum year on year.”

A competing marmalade

Jonathan Miller, a buyer at Fortnum & Mason, is also interested. “Fortnum’s wants to encourage small niche makers who use small-batch, open-pan methods,” he says. “Last year, the festival’s artisan category had some brilliant marmalades including a kumquat marmalade from Museu de la Confitura in Spain and a Wake-Up Marmalade made with a little chilli from Wild & Fruitful in Cumbria.” The latter is now sold in Fortnum’s, alongside Ludlow Food Centre’s dark Lady Windsor’s Marmalade, made with molasses.

Everyone who enters gets feedback. Lord Henley, who entered the Peers & Political category, managed to improve his marmalade to such a degree that last year he won his group prize, beating a Scottish MP. Victor Gubbins, ex-Royal Dragoons and winner of last year’s best Military marmalade, is not afraid of the strong competition involved, even within his own household: “As my wife also enters the festival, I make my marmalade after she’s gone to bed.”

The range of methods is extraordinary, from the traditional formula of cooking whole Seville oranges to simmering the cut peel in an Aga oven. “I still find it amazing that just by cooking citrus fruit and sugar in a pan you get such variety and complexity,” Miller says. Clearly, this is just the start of a British marmalade renaissance.

The 2011 festival runs February 12-13 (entries must be in by February 7); www.marmaladeawards.com
 

Paddington Bear's favourite marmalade buns

Published: July 19 2008 03:00 | Last updated: July 19 2008 03:00

Paddington is one of an illustrious line of hungry bears in children's literature and many youngsters are first introduced to marmalade by his passion for it. One of the joys of coming to London from Darkest Peru, where marmalade is scarce and regarded as a special treat, is that he is allowed by the generous Brown family to have marmalade every day (and honey on Sundays). So Paddington is able to buy his favourite marmalade buns with his pocket money, take marmalade sandwiches to the theatre and bring a jar of marmalade to the seaside.

While marmalade sandwiches may be too much of a good thing for younger palates, marmalade buns are more gently orangey. So here is a recipe for marmalade buns that would appeal to Paddington. The kind of bun he might enjoy for elevenses with his good friend Mr Gruber, who keeps an antique shop on Portobello Road in London: "Mr Gruber usually had a bun and a cup of cocoa in the morning for what he called 'elevenses', and he had taken to sharing it with Paddington. 'There's nothing like a chat over a bun and cocoa,' he used to say, and Paddington, who liked all three, agreed with him even though the cocoa did make his whiskers go a funny colour."

How wonderfully cosy sounding and utterly irresistible.

RECIPE

This recipe is very flexible and can be made as buns (small sponge cakes) or a single cake in a loaf tin. I ice my buns/cake with icing sugar and fresh orange juice but they are also delicious without icing - and make far less mess in suitcases. It's worth reinstating elevenses simply as an excuse to eat them. It makes one large cake or 12 small buns. You need a 12-bun tray and 12 paper cases or a large (25x11x7cm) loaf tin, greased with butter and lined with baking parchment.

Ingredients 175g butter

175g soft brown sugar

3 eggs

Grated zest of 1 orange (unwaxed)

Juice of ½ orange

2 rounded tbs thin-cut marmalade

175g self-raising flour

For the icing

200g icing sugar

Juice of 1 orange

Orange food-colouring paste (optional)

Method

*Preheat the oven to 180°C/Gas Mark 4. Place the paper cases, if using, in the bun tin.

*In a mixing bowl, beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one by one until fully incorporated into the mix. Add the orange zest, juice and marmalade and stir in thoroughly.

*Add the flour and fold in gently with a metal spoon.

*Divide the mix equally between the paper cases and place them in the bun tray or spoon it into the loaf tin.

*If you are making one cake, bake for 40-50 minutes but check after 35 minutes. Use a metal skewer or sharp knife to test if it's ready. Insert it in the cake and if any trace of uncooked mixture comes out on the skewer or knife the cake is not fully cooked. Return it to the oven and bake until the knife or skewer comes out clean. If you find your cake is browning a little too quickly, place a sheet of foil on top to prevent it burning.

*If you are making a dozen small buns, bake for approximately 20 minutes.

*Transfer the tin(s) to a wire rack and leave the buns/cake to cool. Do not begin to ice them until they are completely cold.

*To make the icing, sift the icing sugar into a bowl and add half the orange juice and a tiny amount of orange food-colouring paste, if using, and mix. Add as much juice as it takes to make the icing thick and glossy and spread the icing over the buns/cake.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2011.