Sandy's Shanghai
Food seems to become all the more important when one grows old in our society, perhaps, comparing to other things you used to die for when you were younger, those evasive things called dreams. The thought came to my mind shortly after I recovered from the ecstacy of receiving Sandy Lam's new book, My Shanghai, as a birthday present from Wingyan. I have to admit it's an utterly charming surprise, being a long-time admirer of the city-rhythm-singer. In the 80-90's she represented a dream figure Sandy's Shanghai is culinary, but the mesmerising bit, I think, comes from her air of apparent satisfaction in tiny things and moments. Once the book seems a bit strange from the outlook - combining her personal history and photos as a young girl, the high-profile Shanghaiese dishes, as well as the elegance of her fashion sense... yet the warmth from the genuineness still seizes the reader's heart tight, more than the devourable subjects. Probably there's still a young (naive) part in me that was preserved by the diva's image, or it's just that she is too stunningly beautiful in the prints.
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