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MELTING POT DEBUTS EXCLUSIVE, LIMITED-TIME-ONLY 24K CHOCOLATE FONDUE
MELTING POT DEBUTS EXCLUSIVE, LIMITED-TIME-ONLY 24K CHOCOLATE FONDUE

Malaysian Reserve

time07-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Malaysian Reserve

MELTING POT DEBUTS EXCLUSIVE, LIMITED-TIME-ONLY 24K CHOCOLATE FONDUE

Iconic fondue restaurant celebrates 50th anniversary with golden, ultra-decadent dessert and special dining promotions TAMPA, Fla., July 7, 2025 /PRNewswire/ — Melting Pot, the world's premier fondue restaurant, continues its golden 50th anniversary festivities with the launch of an exclusive 24k Chocolate Fondue, available for a limited time at all locations nationwide. Representing five decades of fondue perfection, the 24k Chocolate Fondue features rich milk chocolate swirled with marshmallow creme and blended with creamy cookie-butter caramel. It is then topped with edible, gold-dusted candied pecans and finished with a liquid gold flambe, served alongside an assortment of fresh fruits and sweet treats for the ultimate decadent experience. 'For 50 years, Melting Pot has been the place where people come together to create lasting memories around the fondue pot, and this new chocolate fondue provides the sweetest reason yet to come indulge with us,' said Ana Malmqvist, chief brand officer at Melting Pot. 'Our new 24k Chocolate Fondue embodies everything we stand for — exceptional quality, a one-of-a-kind dining experience and moments that sparkle, all adding up to The Perfect Night Out®.' The exclusive chocolate fondue is available to enjoy as an upgrade to the Melting Pot signature 4-Course Experience, starting at $2 more per person, or a la carte, starting at $26 for two guests. The limited-time offering runs through July 31 at all Melting Pot locations. To further enhance their golden dining experience, guests can enjoy the new Midas Martini, a shimmering cocktail that combines vanilla vodka, tropical elixirs and sparkling prosecco — the perfect complement to an elegant evening. Guests can also enjoy Melting Pot's Forever Fondue® endless entree promotion, Sundays through Thursdays at all locations. This three-course experience features endless servings of signature entrees including Land & Sea, The Classic or Steak Lovers options, plus fresh salad and any chocolate fondue, starting at $55 per person.* For more information, visit *Pricing may vary by location About Melting PotFounded in Maitland, Florida, in 1975, Melting Pot is the world's premier fondue restaurant. The 50-year-old legacy brand serves over 3 million customers annually as they celebrate the Perfect Night Out — whether for a birthday, anniversary, date night or any special occasion. Famed for its variety of fondue cooking styles and unique entrees, Melting Pot's menu features cheese fondues, salads, fine wines and chocolate fondue desserts, offering a premium dining experience in a polished casual setting that invites new and repeat customers to turn moments into memories. Melting Pot has nearly 90 restaurants in 30 states, with four new locations expected to open over the next year. For more information or to make a reservation, visit Media Contact:Caroline Robinsoncaroline@

Coffee coloured people by the score: Aotearoa music and the melting pot myth
Coffee coloured people by the score: Aotearoa music and the melting pot myth

The Spinoff

time04-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • The Spinoff

Coffee coloured people by the score: Aotearoa music and the melting pot myth

How did New Zealanders fall so hard for a musical celebration of multiculturalism that they made it a Top 10 hit – twice? In their song 'Melting Pot', the English songwriters Roger Cook and Roger Greenaway propose a simple solution to racial conflict. Take a giant industrial vat, fill it with body parts of assorted ethnic origin, simmer for a century, and presto! 'Coffee-coloured people by the score'! The utopian idea of an homogenous monoculture had already been kicking around for a while by the time Cook and Greenaway made the first recording of 'Melting Pot' with their band Blue Mink in 1969. The melting pot metaphor for an assimilation of races into one uniform people crops up in American literature as far back as the 19th century. But even if the songwriters' intentions – 'a recipe for a get-along scene', as the lyric giddily puts it – were noble in an age-of-Aquarius, peace-and-love kind of way, the casual inclusion of such ethnic slurs as 'Red Indian' and 'Yellow Chinkee' betrays an underlying colonial worldview. Blue Mink's record was a big hit in half a dozen countries, and nowhere was it bigger than in New Zealand where it reached number two in early 1970. For a long time it hadn't been too hard for Pākehā to convince themselves that such a monoculture was inevitable and that everyone was happy about it. Before World War Two, Māori society had been mostly rural and somewhat invisible to urban Pākehā. The mantra that New Zealand had the 'best race relations in the world' was solemnly intoned by politicians and recycled in national publicity. But by the early '60s, with almost three-quarters of the Māori population now living in urban areas, disparities between the economic status of Māori and Pākehā were staring government in the face. So the government commissioned the Hunn Report, a set of recommendations for assisting Māori to acquire parity with Pākehā – an urgent matter if the country was to continue to boast about racial harmony. While the report may have been motivated by ideals of equality, it essentially concluded that social advancement for Māori would be achieved through integration into the world of the Pākehā. But over the next two decades the widening gap in employment and income, the rise of activist groups such as Nga Tamatoa, and such high-profile actions as the Māori Land March of 1975 and Bastion Point occupation of 1977-1978 all indicated that 'a great big melting pot' was going to be neither the answer nor the reality. Still the song wouldn't go away. Nearly 20 years after Blue Mink's original hit, 'Melting Pot' was a hit once again, this time in a local cover version by When the Cat's Away. Formed and fronted by five powerful women singers as a riposte to a male-dominated music industry, the Cats were a highly successful touring act with a repertoire comprised mostly of cover songs that audiences recognised and that the singers could have fun with on stage. 'Melting Pot' was one of these old favourites and, when they released it as a single, it became a national number one. What did New Zealanders like so much about this song that it was even more successful on its second orbit, when its recipe for social reform was so clearly out of date? For some, it was familiarity. It pushed the nostalgia button, which is wired in most humans to override normal critical functions. For others, including those who might not have heard it first time around, the lyric was superseded by the performance itself: five New Zealand women of Māori, Pākehā and Rarotongan descent, all vocal virtuosi, demonstrating their musical unity in a blend that was more powerful than the song's simplistic plea for cultural fusion. The song might be silly, still there was some ideal represented in the Cats' performance that a lot of New Zealanders evidently responded to. Whatever the conflicts and upheavals of the previous two decades, it at least sounded like things were going to be alright. And all this was combined with – and perhaps ultimately subsumed by – the Cats' overall message of female empowerment. Now, more than 50 years after it was written, it still pops up regularly in classic hits playlists, and when four of the Cats reunited in October 2023 for a concert in memory of one of their number, the late Margaret Urlich, it was a crowd-pleaser all over again. A summer-themed version of the Gregg's 'Different Faces' ad, 1970. When the Cat's Away were not the first singers to present an idealised view of New Zealand's race relations. In the same year that Blue Mink's original version of 'Melting Pot' hit the charts, nightly ad breaks on the country's sole television network began to feature a 50-second jingle for Gregg's coffee and would remain in rotation for much of the decade. It opened with the lines: 'Different faces, many races, living in the sun / good times to remember where all may live as one.' Sung with soulful conviction by former Sounds Unlimited frontman Alan Galbraith, this pop ballad-in-miniature plays over a fast-cut visual collage. A pipe-smoking, coffee-sipping Pākehā man stands on a city balcony, looking on as a cross-section of New Zealanders go about their daily routines, 'living in a place where each is free to go his way…' There are elderly couples, signwriters, students, hippie protesters, children, plus a couple of gratuitous rear-view shots of a woman in a miniskirt, cropped to show her only from below the waist. Among the predominantly Pākehā faces are several Asian and Māori ones. It is claimed to be the first non-animated television commercial in which Māori appear. But 'Different Faces' had echoes of an earlier song. Back in 1963, two years after the Hunn report, the Kini Quartet, a Māori vocal group from Gisborne, enjoyed a moment in the national spotlight with a record that delicately and poignantly illuminated both the hopes and hypocrisies of New Zealand's so-called race relations. 'Under the Sun' opens with a long chord and a solemn proclamation. It has been written in the Book for Man That all men are equal under the sun… Martin Kini's Biblical baritone is soon joined by a guitar playing a familiar jinga-jick rhythm – the classic Māori strum – while the voices of Joe Williams and Esther and Barney Taihuka slide into harmony behind him as he imagines a land, free from war, inequality, poverty or any of the other ills of the world. There is no war and so no pain All are as one Under the sun In the land of the free in our own country Where our babies are taught as one… For many Māori, there was a marked contrast between the song and lived experience. In a town such as Pukekohe, there had been recent cases of barber's shops, picture theatres, swimming pools and hotels imposing their own colour bans. Elsewhere Māori children were still being punished for speaking te reo in school. Babies 'taught as one'? Only if they conformed to the monoculture. Whose country was it, and free for who? Like the Kini Quartet, the song's author, Margaret Raggett, came from Gisborne, born at the height of the Depression. Her mother was Irish Pākehā, her father part-Māori, but the pair never married, and Margaret – who was always known as Tiny – was brought up by her solo mother. Life was tough and music was her refuge. She taught herself piano and guitar and began writing songs, even before she was at secondary school. Tiny married her childhood sweetheart, Bill Raggett, and the pair set up home not far from Te Poho o Rawiri marae. The marae was the hub of the local community and a hotbed of musical activity, and Tiny and Bill, who was Pākehā, spent much time there. It was here that she first encountered the Kini Quartet, a group of musical cousins who had caught the ear of Auckland record label manager Eldred Stebbing and were looking for original material to record. She wrote both sides of their first single, released in 1962. On the A-side was 'Hard Times Are Coming', a wry reflection on Pākehā economic anxiety. (The song suggested that while Pākehā panicked, Māori would easily survive a new depression because they would grow their own vegetables and catch kaimoana.) On the B-side was an early version of the song that would soon become known as 'Under the Sun', this version sung in te reo and titled 'Te Kotahitanga', which can be translated as 'The Unity' or 'Oneness'. The song shared its name with an organisation set up around the same time to teach cultural roots and self-worth to young Māori returning to the East Coast after spending time in the cities, where many had experienced homesickness and racism. 'Under the Sun' is a protest song of the subtlest kind. It doesn't bother to point out the injustices that are the reason for its being written in the first place. In the manner of John Lennon's 'Imagine' (composed nearly a decade later) it goes straight to the utopian alternative, depicting a perfect land, with a gentle optimism that flows from its lyric to its hopeful melody. The effect is bittersweet. The song became a local standard. Auckland folkies the Convairs covered it on a 1966 EP and, as 'Te Kotahitanga', it appeared on Maoriland Favourites, sung by Daphne Walker, Buddy Wilson and Morgan Clarke. Though the Kini Quartet would carry on through various line-up changes for another decade and record several more of Tiny Raggett's songs, 'Under The Sun' remains their biggest hit. I thought of The Kini Quartet, Tiny Raggett and 'Under the Sun' the first time I heard Te Whare Tiwekaweka, Marlon Williams' latest album, his first written and sung entirely in te reo Māori. Seeing Marlon perform these songs in concert, I was particularly struck by the segment when he and his band gathered together in one small area of the stage with acoustic instruments, all strumming and singing together on his beautiful song 'Whakameatia Mai'. In that moment they seemed to have transformed into the Kini Quartet. Though the album is, in one sense, a departure for Marlon, it can also be heard as a natural development of the music he has been making for the past decade or so. It still leans towards country, for which his mellifluous voice is the perfect instrument. But it is clear that he has also been thinking about the ways in which Māori – from the days of the Kini Quartet and earlier – have played their country music with a kapa haka twist. Driven by voices and acoustic guitars, with other instruments used only sparingly, it could almost be Gisborne in 1963. While the songs do not address political issues directly, to make an album in te reo at a time when Māori language and culture are being subjected to political attacks is a statement in itself. But it was also a practical way for Marlon to get past a writer's block. 'Te reo Māori allowed me to be more candid,' he says. 'If I tried to write those words in English, that'd be a really hard job.' Drawing metaphors from the land, the ocean and the elements – a common device in Māori oratory and song – he found he was able to poetically address such subjects as loneliness, parting, and the inner turmoil that comes from being an artist who, by necessity, is always on the move. But if the album leans heavily on sad love songs – which are, after all, country music's stock in trade – the total effect is optimistic and uplifting. For Māori it is a celebration of their musical heritage, their language and its poetic powers. For Pākehā it shows that te reo is not going to go away, nor need it be feared. It is something uniquely of this place that can contribute to everyone's sense of belonging. The title Te Whare Tiwekaweka – which can be translated as The Messy House – suggests neither a melting pot monoculture nor a utopian dream, but rather a work in progress. A home that is untidy yet alive.

She's made $10,000 in an hour from her dumpling business—more than what she made a month in corporate
She's made $10,000 in an hour from her dumpling business—more than what she made a month in corporate

CNBC

time27-05-2025

  • Business
  • CNBC

She's made $10,000 in an hour from her dumpling business—more than what she made a month in corporate

Samantha Mui teaches people how to make dumplings for a living, making as much as $10,000 an hour, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It. That's more than what she used to make a month from her corporate job. "The biggest win in my life right now is I can go to a corporate office wearing a crop top and ripped jeans, teaching a cooking class and make more in one hour than I've ever made in a month," Mui said. The 34-year-old founded Thirsty Dumpling, which sells do-it-yourself dumpling making kits. As part of her business, she also teaches in-person and online cooking classes for private events, corporate clients and more. She's also the author of the cookbook "Melting Pot." Mui's departure from the corporate world came after years of ruminating about starting something of her own. Before starting her company, Mui worked in several service and corporate jobs. She's worked in industries as varied as senior care and venture capital, but throughout those years, she said, she experienced many moments of sadness. "For four years in my adult life, I actually lived with my parents," Mui said. "I was very overwhelmed, because I had a lot of student loans at the time and ... when I signed all the paperwork for the student loans, I didn't know what I was signing up for," she said. "There were moments of despair, because I [felt] like: 'I don't know how I'm gonna make it,'" she said. "I think that also pushed me ... to find something else, because I almost felt like it was a necessity," she said. Mui said feeling that way forced her to realize that she had to build something of her own, but it wasn't until a major catalyst happened that she took the leap. "I had a new role. It was a fully remote job doing events," she said. "I remember during that time feeling like this is supposed to be the dream role ... but I'm not happy," she said. "I did know deep down that at some point, I would do my own thing. I just didn't know what it was." It was that year in 2022 that Mui's father died suddenly, just a couple of months after her grandmother's death. That made her realize that life is short, and that she had to be happy. She said, "I learned that at the end of your rope, all you care about is: 'did you do right by others?' ... and 'did I do right by myself?'" Shortly after, Mui said, she found clarity and decided to leave her corporate role. "I stopped fighting it, and ... I remember not feeling bad at all. I was feeling really liberated," she said. She wanted to take some time for herself to rest and pivot. Just three weeks into unemployment, Mui had a phone call with her mom that ultimately sparked the idea for Thirsty Dumpling. Then, about seven months later in November 2023, she launched the business. "Sometimes I feel like it's [not] always my decision. It's because I feel like there's no other option for me, so I have to do my own thing," she said. Today, she can bring in $10,000 in an hour by teaching a class of 100 people to make dumplings. Mui said she's learned that trusting your gut is key in business and life. "Every entrepreneur has to have faith, because a lot of times you have to take action, even if you don't — in the immediate [term] — know if it's going to pan out well or not," Mui said. On top of that, she said, she's learned how to value herself and her time as an entrepreneur. When she started the business, she said, she took on a lot of unpaid work which drained her energy, and it wasn't until she shifted her focus to her bottom line that her business began to blossom. "The minute I valued my time and energy ... my business changed," she said. "I learned [that] in every transaction in business and everything you do, it needs to be a healthy exchange ... if I feel like I'm giving more and I'm not getting what I want out of it, you're never going to be happy. So always finding that win-win situation is really important." When asked how being a business owner compares with working in the corporate world, she said, "I feel like, to my bones, this is what I'm supposed to do ... Sometimes I wake up and I'm just like: 'Wow, I cannot believe I'm doing this, because I feel so much more authentic to myself,'" Mui said. "I just feel like I'm doing what my inner child always wanted to do," she said. "I feel so much happier. So much lighter ... and all I want is to continue this, and I really hope that I'm able to continue this."

She dropped out of culinary school at 21. Today, she teaches dumpling-making for a living
She dropped out of culinary school at 21. Today, she teaches dumpling-making for a living

CNBC

time23-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • CNBC

She dropped out of culinary school at 21. Today, she teaches dumpling-making for a living

Samantha Mui has always been a bit of a rebel. Growing up, she knew she hated school but loved being creative and cooking. As a kid, she said, she played hooky by pretending to be sick so she could stay home and watch Julia Child or Martha Stewart on TV and "tinker" in the kitchen all day. Then, she'd clean it all up before her parents came home. "I really struggled in school, because I had a hard time paying attention in class ... I was really rowdy and I was kind of a troublemaker," Mui told CNBC Make It. "I was struggling to follow directions. If I didn't understand it, I would just try to do it in a way that made sense for me, but I felt like I was always getting reprimanded [for that]." She recalled being placed in an ESL (English as a second language) class in the fifth grade, despite the fact that she was born in the U.S. and spoke proper English. "Ever since that [happened], I just thought I was not smart," she said. "At a young age, I knew that I needed to do it my own way ... I realized [that] I can't force myself to like something, but, if I'm interested in something, I'm going to be obsessed with it," Mui said. It wasn't until she was in her late 20s that she finally decided to embrace her natural talents instead of fighting them. Today, the 34-year-old San Francisco Bay Area native is the author of the cookbook "Melting Pot" and the founder of Thirsty Dumpling, a do-it-yourself dumpling-making startup. Her business brings in about $20,000 a month, according to documents reviewed by CNBC Make It. For most of her life, Mui struggled to fit into society's mold. After high school, she went on to study for a couple months at a community college, before deciding to go to culinary school instead. "I went to community college for one semester and absolutely hated it. I just felt really lost, like: 'What am I doing here?' So I didn't feel like [I had another] option," said Mui. It was in culinary school that she gained much more confidence. "I remember being on the Dean's honor list that year ... That's the moment I was like: 'Aha, you're not stupid ... you're just a hands on person,'" Mui said. Through culinary school, she came to accept her own learning style and decided that she should give college another chance. So in 2012, at the age of 21, she dropped out of culinary school and went to college to complete her undergraduate degree. "After that, I was always on the honor roll. [I became an] overachiever at that point, because I finally cracked the code of school. Like, just understanding what is asked of me and ... I had a lot of tricks in my head of how to do school," she said. By 2016, Mui had earned both a bachelor's degree in communications and media studies as well as a master's degree in international business studies. For the next several years, she worked a few corporate and service jobs. But she realized that she was very unhappy. "I definitely didn't feel like it was my end goal at that point ... like, [there was] something inside of me that wanted to do something else, you know, but I didn't know what that was yet," said Mui. In December 2022, Mui's father died suddenly — just months after her grandmother's death. She realized that only two things really matter in life: how you treat others and whether you're happy. Shortly after, Mui left her corporate role and decided to take a break. She gave herself time to rest, reflect and think about what she wanted to do next. Within three weeks of being unemployed in April 2023, Mui had a phone call with her mother, who said, "If you could only make dumpling-making easy ... That's a billion dollar idea." "And a light bulb moment went off ... I remember, within the next day, I started buying all these products to start tinkering in my kitchen," Mui said. The idea was to create a DIY kit for people to make dumplings from scratch. "In that moment, all the things I've been through ... started coming back," she said. "When I was younger, where I truly struggled with learning — it's like I knew that I could create a product that could be very easy and simplified for [anyone to use]." She thought the kits would not only give people confidence in the kitchen, but also become a way for others to learn about her culture. Mui said she invested about $27,000 to get the company started and launched Thirsty Dumpling by November 2023. She now lives in Chicago, where she runs the business, selling dumpling-making kits as well as teaching in-person and online classes on how to make dumplings. "I'm so much happier. So much lighter ... if money was not an option, I would probably be doing [this]," she said. "I just feel like I'm doing what my inner child always wanted to do." When asked what would tell her younger self if she could go back in time, Mui said, "I would tell myself to value my gifts and talents more ... Don't focus so much on my weaknesses, focus more on my strengths."

New comedy about Blur and Oasis rivalry heading to Glasgow
New comedy about Blur and Oasis rivalry heading to Glasgow

Glasgow Times

time29-04-2025

  • Entertainment
  • Glasgow Times

New comedy about Blur and Oasis rivalry heading to Glasgow

The Battle, presented by Melting Pot and Birmingham Rep, charts the summer of 1995, when Blur and Oasis went head-to-head in a legendary chart race. It will run at the city's Theatre Royal from May 26 until May 30, 2026. READ MORE: Glasgow to be hotter than Ibiza in summer burst this week Written by Sunday Times bestselling novelist and screenwriter John Niven, and directed by acclaimed theatre-maker Matthew Dunster, the play dives into the heart of the Britpop explosion — exploring the friendships, feuds, fame, and fallout that came to define an unforgettable era. John Niven said: '1995: a time long before music splintered into a billion different TikTok feeds. "When music was so central to the culture that two pop groups could dominate the entire summer, the evening news and the front page of every newspaper in the country. "We're going to take you back there. I've never written for the stage before, and it has been an absolute blast to do so for the first time with a producer as supportive as Simon and a director as talented as Matthew.' READ MORE: Watch this TV star go viral with impromptu Glasgow bar performance Set in London at the height of Britpop, the play brings to life the chaos of the Brit Awards, the frenzied tabloid wars, and the moment two bands dominated headlines, airwaves, and living rooms across the country. Matthew Dunster said: 'I remember the Battle of the Bands. I remember the charts that week. Music mattered. "I remember being in my twenties in 1995. What a wild time. Full of energy, naughtiness and hilarity. "Just like John Niven's play. I'm so delighted to be working with John on such a punchy, hilarious and revealing comedy about two of the best bands of all time, Blur and Oasis.' READ MORE: Fresh wine bar and bottle shop announces Glasgow opening date Simon Friend, the producer, added: 'Throughout my sister's teenage years, she had an enormous poster of Damon Albarn on her wall, and I remember her falling out with friends over which band they loved more. "Ever since, this story has been in the back of my mind, and I was delighted that John Niven agreed to write it because there is no more qualified or hilarious chronicler of this world, and combined with Matthew Dunster directing, we have a fearless team recreating the sweaty mid-'90s carnage of The Battle of Britpop.' John Niven, a former music industry insider turned bestselling author, is known for Kill Your Friends, The Trip, and How to Build A Girl.

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