Forget Korean drama serials that revolve around incestous tearjerkers or boyfriends who live in fear of their Type A (A for 'Alpha') girlfriends.
Korean Pizza Advertisements are hilari-oh-so!
It's refreshing to see pizza advertisements without those cliche orgasmic noises.
Friday, February 29
Wednesday, February 27
Sushit Tei
Too much of a good thing may indeed be bad for you.
Yes you can quote me on that.
Constant exposure to good food desensitizes one to the pleasures of food and sharpens your Alton Ego alter ego.
The skin of your duck confit doesn't quite crisp at the right edges... The torch marks on your creme brulee aren't symmetrical... And why did the ah pek give you an odd look when you asked for your bak chor mee to be cooked "al dente"?
Things that used to get you as excitable as a carnivore in churrascaria now only warrant a cursory nod of approval because you expected it to happen. Your tastebuds, spoilt-rotten and in of a nanny, becomes wholly accustomed to nothing that doesn't look or sound like the Chef has been slaving over the stove.
Too much of a good thing in reality takes the fun out of dining and that's why you need a reality check every now and then. Something that serves pretty much like a wake-up call, telling you to snap out of "Money Grows On Tree" mentality, reminding you to not take what you have now for granted.
Before I was introduced to the world of eponymous Japanese restaurants, I -pause- love Sushi Tei (gaw-, I could really cringe about this). Our Saturday night visits were something I looked forward to on a weekly basis. Naturally like most first loves, the feelings faded as sashimi slices thinned out and we moved on never looking back.
A recent trip however reminded me of why some things should in fact be left in the past. See the nigiri above, make a guess to what the fish is:
a) kanpachi
b) sake
c) tai
d) otoro
e) hamachi
Drumroll please.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The answer is d) otoro.
I must be honest- I ordered it out of curiosity to see what the conveyor belt chain would deliver and they definitely lived up to my expectations. My sub-zero low expectations. There wasn't even a hint of creaminess often alluded to otoros, it was just dry, grainy, like piece of old tuna. It was undeniably the sorriest piece of otoro I've ever had in my life- if it were even otoro in the first place, which I seriously doubt so. If I were the tuna, I would be majorly peeved that I had died for such an unworthy cause. Watching the plebian plates stroll past, ushering in endless plates of unconsumables made me feel slightly sickened.
Don't even get me started on the dry mold of rice.
Yes you can quote me on that.
Constant exposure to good food desensitizes one to the pleasures of food and sharpens your Alton Ego alter ego.
The skin of your duck confit doesn't quite crisp at the right edges... The torch marks on your creme brulee aren't symmetrical... And why did the ah pek give you an odd look when you asked for your bak chor mee to be cooked "al dente"?
Things that used to get you as excitable as a carnivore in churrascaria now only warrant a cursory nod of approval because you expected it to happen. Your tastebuds, spoilt-rotten and in of a nanny, becomes wholly accustomed to nothing that doesn't look or sound like the Chef has been slaving over the stove.
Too much of a good thing in reality takes the fun out of dining and that's why you need a reality check every now and then. Something that serves pretty much like a wake-up call, telling you to snap out of "Money Grows On Tree" mentality, reminding you to not take what you have now for granted.
Before I was introduced to the world of eponymous Japanese restaurants, I -pause- love Sushi Tei (gaw-, I could really cringe about this). Our Saturday night visits were something I looked forward to on a weekly basis. Naturally like most first loves, the feelings faded as sashimi slices thinned out and we moved on never looking back.
A recent trip however reminded me of why some things should in fact be left in the past. See the nigiri above, make a guess to what the fish is:
a) kanpachi
b) sake
c) tai
d) otoro
e) hamachi
Drumroll please.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The answer is d) otoro.
I must be honest- I ordered it out of curiosity to see what the conveyor belt chain would deliver and they definitely lived up to my expectations. My sub-zero low expectations. There wasn't even a hint of creaminess often alluded to otoros, it was just dry, grainy, like piece of old tuna. It was undeniably the sorriest piece of otoro I've ever had in my life- if it were even otoro in the first place, which I seriously doubt so. If I were the tuna, I would be majorly peeved that I had died for such an unworthy cause. Watching the plebian plates stroll past, ushering in endless plates of unconsumables made me feel slightly sickened.
Don't even get me started on the dry mold of rice.
Friday, February 22
Sushi Yoshida
I brushed past the "valet guy", scarcely noticing his slick gel-slathered mane and mustache, only to realise it was Chef Yoshida himself. Why was Chef Yoshida working on his tan, instead of mulling behind the sushi counter during lunch time?
Think Harry Potter when he steps into The Leaky Cauldron for the first time, where nothing on the outside seems to suggest the actvity going on within. Like the indistinct pub, the entrance is missable if not pointed out by those been-there-done-that; inside however, the arena brimmed with corporate-clad folks and chatter.
So soon as our orders were taken, two bowls of onsen tamago formed opening credits. Also known as "hot spring eggs", the egg yolks were mysteriously cooked, despite its undercooked egg white outering. Apparently this is breakfast food in Japan, pretty much like our soft-boiled eggs sans kaya toasts. Soaked in a mix of dashi, mirin and light soy sauce, it wasn't the most spectacular of appetizers. Maybe I should have asked for dark soya sauce and pepper...
Along with our lunch sets, we were given a choice of miso or clear soup and I opted for the clear soup, which surprisingly contained meaty fish chunks. Simple but indelibly pleasing, this definitely made up for the special-hmm-not-quite eggs.
My chiraishi consisted of creamy sashimi slabs that oozed ephemeral pleasure upon mastication. It was as if the Squishy Sashimi Symposium was taking place right in my bento. The Ama-ebi, Kanikama, Chu-toro, Maguro, Hotate, Kanpachi and Tai assembled -all pledging to serve in the name of debauchery- witnessed by Tamago, Ikura, Sakura-denbu and Daikon.
If Nogawa's chiraishi was Hello Kitty's Dream Float in Puroland, Yoshida's was an exotic ikebana flower arrangement, bequest by Spring. Better yet, the rice was laced with Japanese pickles, resulting in a moist tingling aftertaste.
My friend had the assorted nigiri, which was basically similar to the chiraishi, only taken apart and molded into solitary entities with different agendas.
Think Harry Potter when he steps into The Leaky Cauldron for the first time, where nothing on the outside seems to suggest the actvity going on within. Like the indistinct pub, the entrance is missable if not pointed out by those been-there-done-that; inside however, the arena brimmed with corporate-clad folks and chatter.
So soon as our orders were taken, two bowls of onsen tamago formed opening credits. Also known as "hot spring eggs", the egg yolks were mysteriously cooked, despite its undercooked egg white outering. Apparently this is breakfast food in Japan, pretty much like our soft-boiled eggs sans kaya toasts. Soaked in a mix of dashi, mirin and light soy sauce, it wasn't the most spectacular of appetizers. Maybe I should have asked for dark soya sauce and pepper...
Along with our lunch sets, we were given a choice of miso or clear soup and I opted for the clear soup, which surprisingly contained meaty fish chunks. Simple but indelibly pleasing, this definitely made up for the special-hmm-not-quite eggs.
My chiraishi consisted of creamy sashimi slabs that oozed ephemeral pleasure upon mastication. It was as if the Squishy Sashimi Symposium was taking place right in my bento. The Ama-ebi, Kanikama, Chu-toro, Maguro, Hotate, Kanpachi and Tai assembled -all pledging to serve in the name of debauchery- witnessed by Tamago, Ikura, Sakura-denbu and Daikon.
If Nogawa's chiraishi was Hello Kitty's Dream Float in Puroland, Yoshida's was an exotic ikebana flower arrangement, bequest by Spring. Better yet, the rice was laced with Japanese pickles, resulting in a moist tingling aftertaste.
My friend had the assorted nigiri, which was basically similar to the chiraishi, only taken apart and molded into solitary entities with different agendas.
Tuesday, February 19
A380
YAY we are heading up to UK for my sister's convocation in June.
As if it's not enough joy to start relishing the prospective hedonist delights, we will be taking Airbus A380!
I know it sounds silly to get all excited- although Airbus A380 may have been sired by Franco-German engineers, SIA was the first airline to fly it (amidst much hullabaloo) so don't blame me for getting all surrogate-mother teary-eyed.
Play on the Patriotism.
Friday, February 15
Canelé Pâtisserie Chocolaterie Again?
Mum: Do you want to watch Lust, Caution? The club is screening it this weekend...
Me: Isn't that like R-rated? You do know that it's rated...
Mum: Please.. I'm fifty something... Not fifteen!
Should I be worried not because I'm catching Lust, Caution with my mum but because I'm a bigger prude than she is?
- -
Admittedly, studying in a City Campus has its perks.
One could scoot over to Shenton Way / Raffles Place / Temasek Boulevard for that job or internship interview and still make it back to class within 15 minutes of that final handshake. We have museums at our doorstep and a 10 minute walk in any direction reintroduces one to the delights of capitalism. Personally, it's awesome since I can easily find a spot for tea and catch-up with friends for a little 'afternoon delight'.
Reader: Whattt!? You got to be kidding me.. How frivolous does that sound?!
Well, you do happen to be on a food blog... were you expecting to be entertained by my two cent's worth on the US Presidential hopefuls or Microsoft-Yahoo-Google love-hate triangle?
YAWNNN
I thought so.
Raffles City is under going some major nip and tuck and they have added not-so-new shops to their facelift namely Eu Yan Seng (grandfather brand trying to 'bring sexy back'), Cocoa Tree (who really shops there anyway?), Breadtalk (henceforth cannibalizing sales from City Hall MRT station and Capitol Building outlets) and New Kid on The Donut Block J. Co, a donut coffee place (do we really need another Donut Factory?). Ok better get back to the main topic before I start a Down With Donuts, Let Me Eat Cake campaign. But seriously, do you know what 'FAD' stands for?
Finished And Dead
See I digress yet again.
While it may not be part of the new extension, Canele's third outlet gamely plonks itself in a space, formerly known as 'Mix'. Yup that cafe that used to sell overpriced juices, smoothies, salads, healthy pies and wraps. Looks like it had tried to offer the Elixir To Life to customers but failed to find a formula for itself. Anyway, the second irony is that 'Mix' is now replaced with a patisserie that sells overpriced cakes, which aren't exactly what the doctor prescribed.
I think you guys have met Van before but here is GT, our resident Isaac Mizrahi sans curls but double the diva attitude, with his nose buried in the menu because deciding on which crepe to have is such hard work!
So the story continues- I met with Van and GT for tea at Canele. The last time I met up with Van, we were stuffing ourselves silly pizzas and pastas by the Amalfi Coast and now we have to make do with this water fountain. Sigh. Haha.
I guess with GT in the picture, one can be assured of a 'berry tarty afternoon' and because we are such Tart Nuts, we had the Sour Cherry Tart and Strawberry Tart. On hindsight, this could have saved our friendship since we wouldn't need to fight over the buttery crumbs of incredible delectation. The plump strawberries weren't really sweet and the Sour Cherries were well, sourish but both helped offset the sweet-filled, sweet-drizzled and sweet-dolloped Nougatine.
I wanted to try their Chestnut Souffle but it wasn't on the menu so we went for one of their sweet crepes, Nougatine. As the caramelized Filo laid lazily on vanilla crème chantilly, the Object of My Dysfunctional Affection was filled with Nutella, topped with salty caramel trill and an indulgent scoop of hazelnut nougatine ice cream. Instead of the floppy-puppy-ear texture, the crepe was slightly crunchy like a Crepe Dentelles.
Oh my gaw-, it was like 'thought I died and gone to heaven' (yeah I clearly have more lives than a cat when it comes to dessert).
I just realized that if I'm a little prudish and I love tarts. Does that make me a Prune Tart? Ok bad joke, Down boy!
This Afternoon Delight may not be as naughty but it was by no less sinful.
Me: Isn't that like R-rated? You do know that it's rated...
Mum: Please.. I'm fifty something... Not fifteen!
Should I be worried not because I'm catching Lust, Caution with my mum but because I'm a bigger prude than she is?
- -
Admittedly, studying in a City Campus has its perks.
One could scoot over to Shenton Way / Raffles Place / Temasek Boulevard for that job or internship interview and still make it back to class within 15 minutes of that final handshake. We have museums at our doorstep and a 10 minute walk in any direction reintroduces one to the delights of capitalism. Personally, it's awesome since I can easily find a spot for tea and catch-up with friends for a little 'afternoon delight'.
Reader: Whattt!? You got to be kidding me.. How frivolous does that sound?!
Well, you do happen to be on a food blog... were you expecting to be entertained by my two cent's worth on the US Presidential hopefuls or Microsoft-Yahoo-Google love-hate triangle?
YAWNNN
I thought so.
Raffles City is under going some major nip and tuck and they have added not-so-new shops to their facelift namely Eu Yan Seng (grandfather brand trying to 'bring sexy back'), Cocoa Tree (who really shops there anyway?), Breadtalk (henceforth cannibalizing sales from City Hall MRT station and Capitol Building outlets) and New Kid on The Donut Block J. Co, a donut coffee place (do we really need another Donut Factory?). Ok better get back to the main topic before I start a Down With Donuts, Let Me Eat Cake campaign. But seriously, do you know what 'FAD' stands for?
Finished And Dead
See I digress yet again.
While it may not be part of the new extension, Canele's third outlet gamely plonks itself in a space, formerly known as 'Mix'. Yup that cafe that used to sell overpriced juices, smoothies, salads, healthy pies and wraps. Looks like it had tried to offer the Elixir To Life to customers but failed to find a formula for itself. Anyway, the second irony is that 'Mix' is now replaced with a patisserie that sells overpriced cakes, which aren't exactly what the doctor prescribed.
I think you guys have met Van before but here is GT, our resident Isaac Mizrahi sans curls but double the diva attitude, with his nose buried in the menu because deciding on which crepe to have is such hard work!
So the story continues- I met with Van and GT for tea at Canele. The last time I met up with Van, we were stuffing ourselves silly pizzas and pastas by the Amalfi Coast and now we have to make do with this water fountain. Sigh. Haha.
I guess with GT in the picture, one can be assured of a 'berry tarty afternoon' and because we are such Tart Nuts, we had the Sour Cherry Tart and Strawberry Tart. On hindsight, this could have saved our friendship since we wouldn't need to fight over the buttery crumbs of incredible delectation. The plump strawberries weren't really sweet and the Sour Cherries were well, sourish but both helped offset the sweet-filled, sweet-drizzled and sweet-dolloped Nougatine.
I wanted to try their Chestnut Souffle but it wasn't on the menu so we went for one of their sweet crepes, Nougatine. As the caramelized Filo laid lazily on vanilla crème chantilly, the Object of My Dysfunctional Affection was filled with Nutella, topped with salty caramel trill and an indulgent scoop of hazelnut nougatine ice cream. Instead of the floppy-puppy-ear texture, the crepe was slightly crunchy like a Crepe Dentelles.
Oh my gaw-, it was like 'thought I died and gone to heaven' (yeah I clearly have more lives than a cat when it comes to dessert).
I just realized that if I'm a little prudish and I love tarts. Does that make me a Prune Tart? Ok bad joke, Down boy!
This Afternoon Delight may not be as naughty but it was by no less sinful.
Tuesday, February 12
Tuesday, February 5
Canelé Pâtisserie Chocolaterie
From a PR perspective, Les Amis has done an excellent textbook-example job of catapulting its corporate brand to sugar-heights. Take Canele for instance, from mass media to social media, it seems to have won band of followers who pledge allegiance to Chef Pang Kok Keong’s toothsome creations. While I wouldn't dispute the validity of their opinions (taste is, afterall, as subjective as the perfume you wear), I must confess I have had less than oo-la-la luck with Les Amis.
However, when Ming suggested "cake shop opposite Starbucks Paragon" for tea, I threw caution to the wind for a potential afternoon of decadent sweet treats.
Our party of five ordered 5 different cakes so as to quintuple the fun. While waiting for our table, the three early ones peered over the glass display early, eyes wide with desire as if choosing engagement rings. Princess cut or round solitaire? Though it was slightly nerve-wrecking (oh why can't all of life's problems revolve around ganache or praline), we picked out what our hearts responded to and decided to practise "dictatorial democracy" over what the other two ordered.
What do you mean you want to order the tiramisu? Oh no you don't, you must be confused. You probably don't know what you want. Here take a seat, don't fret, we will make up your mind for you.
Who says politics and dessert can't mix? Haha, we sure sound like model citizens from Ogress R Us corporation.
Something swirly on tart caught my eye and I was told it was 'Nutella Pie'. As soon as I heard the word 'Nutella', I was sold. Absolutely sold-to-the-drooling-buyer SOLD! Be warned though: the nutella-tart-part is rather hard. To get to first and second base -giggle-, I ended up looking like a caveman with his spear stuck in a slab of frozen mammoth. Although it was a little unglamorous to get through it (HAD TO use my fingers for the biscuit-tart base), it was goooood- would have awesome if there was more nutella.
With a penchant for citrus, Ming zeroed in on the Tart Citron, a meringue topped lemon tart. You know it really depends on how high your lemon-threshold is. This dessert works if you are wary for the marsmallowy meringue threatens to overshadow the lemon taste; otherwise I suggest you leave the meringue alone and work on the rest of the tart. Like the nutella pie, the tart base was hard- so beware of flying shards and crumbs.
Qin picked the Mont Blanc, a chestnut and cream dessert that is perhaps the most unique looking dessert i''ve ever come across. It seems the chef had too much fun with the Play-doh Fuzzy Pumper playset and created a dessert that bears striking resemblance to Cousin It from Addams Family. No wait, Cousin It after it had been caught in a revolving door. Despite the outrageous look, this cake is surprisingly mild. Great for those who got dragged to Canele by chocoholic friends but want nothing to do with chocolate-filled-layer-or-topped cakes.
I love Toon's chocolate caramel log that had bits of hazelnut crunch trap between layers of sponge cake and mousse. Think Princess and the Pea, only with more peas within the Princess's tower of mattresses. To truly enjoy this dessert, you have to pierce your fork through midsection the cake to savour the enigmatic play on texture.
By the time Becks arrived, we decided suggested she order the Jupiter, a cute as ET-call-home cake. It was an essentially chocolate dessert, filled with caramel, pecan nut nougatine and exotic coulis. The exotic coulis reminded me of guava, which I wasn't too keen on since I'm not into mixing fruit with chocolate.
I'm curious as to why the chef name this dessert 'Jupiter'? Is it really because it's er- round and thus shaped like a planet (like ten thousand other things) or is there a darker meaning like a correlation between too much cakes and your size-of-Jupiter ass? Could 'Jupiter' be the new "saddlebag"? Somebody please ask Oprah.
After the cakes, we decided to linger in the company of macarons and caneles. I don't think any of us are big macaron-lovers and since we only wanted a 'test drive', we shared four (violet, hazelnut, passionfruit and rose) macarons and a couple of caneles. I had imagined the macarons to be airy light as tinkerbell but they turned out denser than expected, almost like toothachly-sweet chewy ear muffs.
It was a pity the namesake didn't quite hit the sweet spot as the caneles tasted like stogy hard malt candy cakes that had been left out for too long.
Although I have a sweet tooth, I have always preferred down-to-earth desserts such as ice cream, brownies, mudpies- not cakes that looked like they have been dressed by couturiers or pastries that looked too pretty to taste good. At Canele, I have learnt to stay away from the hot food unless absolutely necessary and stick to the desserts. Canele sure helped me get over my phobia of prettier-than-thou cakes and I can't wait to sample the rest of the cakes soon!
However, when Ming suggested "cake shop opposite Starbucks Paragon" for tea, I threw caution to the wind for a potential afternoon of decadent sweet treats.
Our party of five ordered 5 different cakes so as to quintuple the fun. While waiting for our table, the three early ones peered over the glass display early, eyes wide with desire as if choosing engagement rings. Princess cut or round solitaire? Though it was slightly nerve-wrecking (oh why can't all of life's problems revolve around ganache or praline), we picked out what our hearts responded to and decided to practise "dictatorial democracy" over what the other two ordered.
What do you mean you want to order the tiramisu? Oh no you don't, you must be confused. You probably don't know what you want. Here take a seat, don't fret, we will make up your mind for you.
Who says politics and dessert can't mix? Haha, we sure sound like model citizens from Ogress R Us corporation.
Something swirly on tart caught my eye and I was told it was 'Nutella Pie'. As soon as I heard the word 'Nutella', I was sold. Absolutely sold-to-the-drooling-buyer SOLD! Be warned though: the nutella-tart-part is rather hard. To get to first and second base -giggle-, I ended up looking like a caveman with his spear stuck in a slab of frozen mammoth. Although it was a little unglamorous to get through it (HAD TO use my fingers for the biscuit-tart base), it was goooood- would have awesome if there was more nutella.
With a penchant for citrus, Ming zeroed in on the Tart Citron, a meringue topped lemon tart. You know it really depends on how high your lemon-threshold is. This dessert works if you are wary for the marsmallowy meringue threatens to overshadow the lemon taste; otherwise I suggest you leave the meringue alone and work on the rest of the tart. Like the nutella pie, the tart base was hard- so beware of flying shards and crumbs.
Qin picked the Mont Blanc, a chestnut and cream dessert that is perhaps the most unique looking dessert i''ve ever come across. It seems the chef had too much fun with the Play-doh Fuzzy Pumper playset and created a dessert that bears striking resemblance to Cousin It from Addams Family. No wait, Cousin It after it had been caught in a revolving door. Despite the outrageous look, this cake is surprisingly mild. Great for those who got dragged to Canele by chocoholic friends but want nothing to do with chocolate-filled-layer-or-topped cakes.
I love Toon's chocolate caramel log that had bits of hazelnut crunch trap between layers of sponge cake and mousse. Think Princess and the Pea, only with more peas within the Princess's tower of mattresses. To truly enjoy this dessert, you have to pierce your fork through midsection the cake to savour the enigmatic play on texture.
By the time Becks arrived, we decided suggested she order the Jupiter, a cute as ET-call-home cake. It was an essentially chocolate dessert, filled with caramel, pecan nut nougatine and exotic coulis. The exotic coulis reminded me of guava, which I wasn't too keen on since I'm not into mixing fruit with chocolate.
I'm curious as to why the chef name this dessert 'Jupiter'? Is it really because it's er- round and thus shaped like a planet (like ten thousand other things) or is there a darker meaning like a correlation between too much cakes and your size-of-Jupiter ass? Could 'Jupiter' be the new "saddlebag"? Somebody please ask Oprah.
After the cakes, we decided to linger in the company of macarons and caneles. I don't think any of us are big macaron-lovers and since we only wanted a 'test drive', we shared four (violet, hazelnut, passionfruit and rose) macarons and a couple of caneles. I had imagined the macarons to be airy light as tinkerbell but they turned out denser than expected, almost like toothachly-sweet chewy ear muffs.
It was a pity the namesake didn't quite hit the sweet spot as the caneles tasted like stogy hard malt candy cakes that had been left out for too long.
Although I have a sweet tooth, I have always preferred down-to-earth desserts such as ice cream, brownies, mudpies- not cakes that looked like they have been dressed by couturiers or pastries that looked too pretty to taste good. At Canele, I have learnt to stay away from the hot food unless absolutely necessary and stick to the desserts. Canele sure helped me get over my phobia of prettier-than-thou cakes and I can't wait to sample the rest of the cakes soon!
Still awake.
Just wiped out Crabtree & Evelyn shortbread biscuits. Hopefully I'll get sleepy as a result of the blood rushing to my stomach to digest the biscuits.
I'm suddenly reminded of what a light sleeper I am. This really reminds of those days in Copenhagen where I slept with ear plugs although now I can't for fear of sleeping through my alarm. If this keeps up for till next week, I'm going to be one heck of a grouchy fella. Ack.
Just wiped out Crabtree & Evelyn shortbread biscuits. Hopefully I'll get sleepy as a result of the blood rushing to my stomach to digest the biscuits.
I'm suddenly reminded of what a light sleeper I am. This really reminds of those days in Copenhagen where I slept with ear plugs although now I can't for fear of sleeping through my alarm. If this keeps up for till next week, I'm going to be one heck of a grouchy fella. Ack.
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