Peperoni Pizzeria, Les Amis

I love my skirt. over the weekend, i got like this (insert annoying lizzie mcquire voice) really really cool knee-length satin brown skirt, which has a high 2 inches wide elastic waistband, that nips at 2 spots long the waistline, thereby creating folds and a tulip contour. My waistband camouflages as a corset and as a result, I'm forced (well actually I should be doing so) to assume an upright posture when I walk- in a manner that would make ballet mistresses crinkle with pride.

All thanks to my really really cool satin brown skirt.

End of frivolity.

Before the likes of Dempsey Road and Rochester Park surfaced, Greenwood Avenue was the ‘In & Off the Beaten Path’ place to dine. Apart from the Les Amis restaurant, there’s the much-loved Lana Cake Shop, Shiro Haute Japanese Cusisine, Estivo Gelateria where I used to work, Greenwood Fish Market & Bistro etc etc.

Dinner was supposed to be held at La Strada but as it was closed for reservations, we headed down to Peperoni Pizzeria instead. The birthday dinner at saw about 12 of us eased into the private room of Les Amis Peperoni.



I was quite excited about dinner. I have heard raptly good stuff about their Les Amis restaurant, Canele and was close to tears when my favourite brunch haunt Lazy Gourmet closed.



Huge mahjong white papers instead of tablecloths, a dodgy decorative candle arrangement, black & white photos on marmalade-coloured walls, Peperoni exuded a relaxed restaurant-next-door ambiance.



My cousins love calamari, who doesn’t? Plump squid tossed in light batter and fried till grainy-crisp- I enjoyed the calamari fritti, which was topped with uber-fried onion splinters.



I snuck a forkful of aglio olio spaghetti from my cousin. The simplest of all pastas. What's that- Four ingredients, you say? Uncomplicated, just a daily stroll in the park for the chef. WHAM! The bitter taste burnt garlic hit me hard, causing me to recoil in first shock, then disgust.

Strike 1.

Fortunately and unfortunately, that was the only pasta dish for the night. With such a huge group, we ordered 3 family size pizzas, 21 inches each, 63 inches in total.



The pizzas were HUGE. Laid out side by side, these pizzas would have been almost as tall as me. At 21 inches wide, they were comparable to some of the LCD plasmas in the market.



Unfortunately, they weren't all 63 inches of gratification.



Funghi, with 3 types of mushrooms button, shitake, porcini, was head-swooning in a "don't funk with my heart" kinda way. Though it was a 'holy shi-take' moment for me, I see mushroom fans waving flags in jubilance over this.



Frutti di mare. Compared to Da Paolo, the scarce toppings were worthy of a Missing Seafood Notice. Shocking.

Strike 2.



Napoloetana was OOD- Olive Overdose. I shyed away in favour of the Suprema, which had shitake mushrooms, onions, chicken and garlic sausage, red chili. The sausages were blessed with a slight crunch, making this one pizza worthy a positive mention.



I got to admit, this being a Les Amis outlet I was surprised to see Hawaiian on the menu; but I was even more surprised to see bell peppers included. It's bad enough to spot an American travesty but to think, to see it rolled out in such ghastliness. Was I supposed to be having second thoughts about this place.?



Bell peppers. Why??? Strike 2.5.

You see, the pizzas were thin, with slightly charred crispy edges but I guess at this unfathomable size, they were bound to limp. Limpness, I can accept and with a stretch of mananimity, even brush it aside but the scanty toppings was plain disrespectful.

Strike 3.

By then, my expectations had taken nose-dive, fallen flat on its face pizza-style and been stomped all over.

Les Amis being one of the best-known restaurant groups in town, I was generously surprised and disappointed by the lackluster pizza. The perfunctory stab at Italian food didn't do any justice to the good name they had established.

All was not lost though.

As it was fen's birthday, we had chocolate cake.



Now, I normally don't do chocolate cake (Sacre Bleu!) but this was THE chocolate cake. The one that I had this January, which left me for reeling on a high for many days to come. The one that Bruce Bogtrotter and Augustus Gloop would crawl out of their stories for. The one that wasn't a conversation-starter but a conversation-ender because all everyone wanted to do was zip up and relish in its dreaminess.



The perfect ratio of chocolate mousse, sponge midsection and wafer base was made for unchallenged delectation.

I repeat: I don't do chocolate cake. But I did ask for an extra slice and slowly made my way back to Elysium. I managed to regain some composure and by the end of dinner, I badgered the birthday girl for details! I NEEDED to know who the baker was, the person who was literally making me eat my words! The next day, she sms-ed me saying "my parents and uncle calls him 'Khee'." Gee, doesn't the whole mystery just add to the allure of this cake?



A picture that says it all.