It's odd to see how far this little outlet of mine has progressed and I thought it would be nice to see what life was like before.
Two years ago, I blogged about French Loaf Toast at Killiney Kopitiam.
A year ago, I started my blog series on Japan with Fast Food on the Shinkasen .
I'm in one of my 'reminiscing' moods again.
Also, has anyone noticed that tastespotting, foodgawker and photograzing photos are severely recycled?
Monday, September 29
Friday, September 26
PS Cafe, Palais Renaissance
Marmalde Pantry half-filled for Sunday Brunch?
Sacre Bleu! How could that have happened?
Two letters, my friend, P S.
After PS Cafe landed on level two of Palais Renaissance like that uninvited space ship in Independence Day, the crowds floated from basement to level 2, as if they had called back by their Mother Ship.
At least that's what I observed on one Sunday. I took my friend Emma from Sweden to PS Cafe at Palais Renaissance and Alex, who had just returned from his scuba-diving trip, joined us fordinner desserts.
Sticky lemon and chewy florentine cake, served with vanilla ice cream, played Dessert Good Cop Bad Cop. A dense pound cake deeply satiated with lemon flavour, topped with Florentine biscuits; The lemoness first shakes you up, then leaves it to the Florentine biscuit and vanilla ice cream to nurse the shock. I did remember this to be alot stick-er though ... That being said, citrus is my new 'chocolate'.
Chocolate crunch doorstop cake is somewhat inappropriately named as the richness of the cake smacks one right in the face like an unsuspecting swinging door. It is nearly impossible to down a mouthful of fudgy chocolate brownie, decadent chocolate mousse and malteases without pleading for a glass of water.
Wallis Simpson, Duchess of Windsor: You can never be too rich... I really enjoyed the cocoa extravagance but this is solely for the chocolate-deprived only.
The giant coffee eclair marked mankind's morbid fascination with size. Close to a foot long, the choux pastry was toffee-drizzled, chocolate-coated and crammed with coffee cream. It was an obsence display of indulgence and excess - depending on whether you follow the food crisis discussion. I gave up 2/3s into the dessert, at the point where my vanilla ice cream ran out.
I just wonder how many people have polished off this dessert on their own and didn't need to be carried out on a stretcher? Or rather, how many human beings does it take to finish this dessert?
Alex - No key lime pie but just as happy
Emma theSweet Swede
This pretty much sums up our nutritionally-questionable dinner. To top it off, the two of them paired dessert with a little tippling - Alex had the Seifried Pinot Gris while Emma opted for the cariole red wine (call me a wino-wuss but I had PS Digestive Tea).You can imagine how thrilled I am to find BEINGS who can just dive straight into dessert for dinner.
Alrighty, time to head back to our space ship. Gaw, this Human disguise is just suffocating...
TA-DAH! I made a list of cakes which I have tried from various PS Cafe.
PS Dial 'D' for Dessert
Banana Cream Pie
Carrot Cake
Florida Key Lime Pie
Pecan Nut Chocolate Fudge Pie
Double Chocolate Cake
Cheddar Crust Apple Pie
Sticky Date Pudding
Sacre Bleu! How could that have happened?
Two letters, my friend, P S.
After PS Cafe landed on level two of Palais Renaissance like that uninvited space ship in Independence Day, the crowds floated from basement to level 2, as if they had called back by their Mother Ship.
At least that's what I observed on one Sunday. I took my friend Emma from Sweden to PS Cafe at Palais Renaissance and Alex, who had just returned from his scuba-diving trip, joined us for
Sticky lemon and chewy florentine cake, served with vanilla ice cream, played Dessert Good Cop Bad Cop. A dense pound cake deeply satiated with lemon flavour, topped with Florentine biscuits; The lemoness first shakes you up, then leaves it to the Florentine biscuit and vanilla ice cream to nurse the shock. I did remember this to be alot stick-er though ... That being said, citrus is my new 'chocolate'.
Chocolate crunch doorstop cake is somewhat inappropriately named as the richness of the cake smacks one right in the face like an unsuspecting swinging door. It is nearly impossible to down a mouthful of fudgy chocolate brownie, decadent chocolate mousse and malteases without pleading for a glass of water.
Wallis Simpson, Duchess of Windsor: You can never be too rich... I really enjoyed the cocoa extravagance but this is solely for the chocolate-deprived only.
The giant coffee eclair marked mankind's morbid fascination with size. Close to a foot long, the choux pastry was toffee-drizzled, chocolate-coated and crammed with coffee cream. It was an obsence display of indulgence and excess - depending on whether you follow the food crisis discussion. I gave up 2/3s into the dessert, at the point where my vanilla ice cream ran out.
I just wonder how many people have polished off this dessert on their own and didn't need to be carried out on a stretcher? Or rather, how many human beings does it take to finish this dessert?
Alex - No key lime pie but just as happy
Emma the
This pretty much sums up our nutritionally-questionable dinner. To top it off, the two of them paired dessert with a little tippling - Alex had the Seifried Pinot Gris while Emma opted for the cariole red wine (call me a wino-wuss but I had PS Digestive Tea).You can imagine how thrilled I am to find BEINGS who can just dive straight into dessert for dinner.
Alrighty, time to head back to our space ship. Gaw, this Human disguise is just suffocating...
TA-DAH! I made a list of cakes which I have tried from various PS Cafe.
PS Dial 'D' for Dessert
Banana Cream Pie
Carrot Cake
Florida Key Lime Pie
Pecan Nut Chocolate Fudge Pie
Double Chocolate Cake
Cheddar Crust Apple Pie
Sticky Date Pudding
Wednesday, September 24
El-Sheikh Restaurant, Pahang Street
Lebanese.
Now that's a cuisine you don't find often on this blog.
Upon Yang's recommendation, which was based on a friend who has a Lebanese boyfriend***, we had dinner at El-Sheikh Restaurant on Pahang Street.
We had the Sheikh Chicken, a whole chicken spliced open, marinated and grilled. The dish reminded me of the 'why did chicken cross the road' joke but in a 'why didn't the chicken check before crossing the road'. As you can see, the chicken tried to cross the road and got steam-rolled by a tank. Parents should make use of this opportunity to dispense some road safety advice.
I forgot what's the name of this dish but it is the one above Sheikh Chicken on the menu. Boneless chicken chunks marinated and grilled, topped with a brush of mayonnaise. Unlike the Sheikh Chicken which borderlined on being dry, this chicken was smoky and creamy.
Both dishes were served with saffron rice. Oh fluffy formless rice perfumed with the aromatic scent of saffron! [Insert plate-scrapping sound clip]
For me, El-Sheikh pried open the gateway to Middle Eastern food. Although my understanding of Lebanese or even Middle Eastern begins and ends with the hummus bought from supermarkets, a few more dining experiences should worm out this deficiency. Hmmm, do you guys know of any other restaurants that do good Middle Eastern food?
Now that's a cuisine you don't find often on this blog.
Upon Yang's recommendation, which was based on a friend who has a Lebanese boyfriend***, we had dinner at El-Sheikh Restaurant on Pahang Street.
*** Yes, I am vaguely aware of the fact that dating a French doesn't necessarily make one an expert on French cuisine but my sister's friend has been to Lebanon and that makes her 'one-up' in my books.
We greeted our Sheikh Mezze, a selection of dip-friendly starters by ripping open the pre-packed Lebanese pita bread. The Lebanese pita bread we had was very burrito-like, thinner than pita pockets found in other cuisines.
The hummus, pureed chickpeas spiked with tahini (sesame paste) and lemon juice, was earthy and smooth without losing its grainy consistency. We had clear favourites and this was Yang's.
My gums would soon shudder at the mere thought of tabbouli, a parsley salad mixed with tomatoes, onions, mint, lemon juice and olive oil. To me it was really just PARSLEY PARSLEY PARSLEY - yes, in bold.
Similar to the hummus is the moutabel, which was made of grilled aubergine, tahini and lemon juice.
On top of the cold mezzes, we had two hot mezzes - cheese sambousek and falafel.
It is best to attack the cheese sambousek first, a deep-fried filo puff pastry with cheese, parsley and onions, to experience gooeyness that would have been lost to time.
I had my first and last falafel in Copenhagen so I knew that these deep-fried grounded chickpea balls could potentially be crazily delicious. Crunchy and well-seasoned, good to know stereotypes exist for a good reason.
On top of Sheikh Mezze, we order an addtional baba ghanoush, which turned out to be my favourite mezze of the table. The sprightly appetizer was made of grilled eggplant, tahini, lemon juice and obviously, loads of parsley; but the parsley made all the difference, without any of its gum-chilling overpowering qualities.
We greeted our Sheikh Mezze, a selection of dip-friendly starters by ripping open the pre-packed Lebanese pita bread. The Lebanese pita bread we had was very burrito-like, thinner than pita pockets found in other cuisines.
The hummus, pureed chickpeas spiked with tahini (sesame paste) and lemon juice, was earthy and smooth without losing its grainy consistency. We had clear favourites and this was Yang's.
My gums would soon shudder at the mere thought of tabbouli, a parsley salad mixed with tomatoes, onions, mint, lemon juice and olive oil. To me it was really just PARSLEY PARSLEY PARSLEY - yes, in bold.
Similar to the hummus is the moutabel, which was made of grilled aubergine, tahini and lemon juice.
On top of the cold mezzes, we had two hot mezzes - cheese sambousek and falafel.
It is best to attack the cheese sambousek first, a deep-fried filo puff pastry with cheese, parsley and onions, to experience gooeyness that would have been lost to time.
I had my first and last falafel in Copenhagen so I knew that these deep-fried grounded chickpea balls could potentially be crazily delicious. Crunchy and well-seasoned, good to know stereotypes exist for a good reason.
On top of Sheikh Mezze, we order an addtional baba ghanoush, which turned out to be my favourite mezze of the table. The sprightly appetizer was made of grilled eggplant, tahini, lemon juice and obviously, loads of parsley; but the parsley made all the difference, without any of its gum-chilling overpowering qualities.
We had the Sheikh Chicken, a whole chicken spliced open, marinated and grilled. The dish reminded me of the 'why did chicken cross the road' joke but in a 'why didn't the chicken check before crossing the road'. As you can see, the chicken tried to cross the road and got steam-rolled by a tank. Parents should make use of this opportunity to dispense some road safety advice.
I forgot what's the name of this dish but it is the one above Sheikh Chicken on the menu. Boneless chicken chunks marinated and grilled, topped with a brush of mayonnaise. Unlike the Sheikh Chicken which borderlined on being dry, this chicken was smoky and creamy.
Both dishes were served with saffron rice. Oh fluffy formless rice perfumed with the aromatic scent of saffron! [Insert plate-scrapping sound clip]
For me, El-Sheikh pried open the gateway to Middle Eastern food. Although my understanding of Lebanese or even Middle Eastern begins and ends with the hummus bought from supermarkets, a few more dining experiences should worm out this deficiency. Hmmm, do you guys know of any other restaurants that do good Middle Eastern food?
Sunday, September 21
Dad's Birthday Dinner at Bistro Petit Salut
Mum: How nice it would be to stroll in Paris... Shall we?
If only Mum were a drunken alcoholic - that would have made things simpler because I could easily dismissed those words as gibberish muttered out of drunken stupor. Sigh, don't do this to me Mum.
No, you are right. It's not the end of the world and I will just have to be very patient. Very very patient. We celebrated Dad's birthday at Bistro Petit Salut. Don't worry Dad, you don't look a day over 45! Not that he really cares. My dad is someone who believes in aging gracefully and *cough* naturally. Ha, seriously Dad!
We had a total of twelve dishes between the four of us.
My starter was a showcase of duck prepared in three different ways. First, a delightful homemade duck rillette, duck confit shredded and mixed with herbs. I admit I was gripped by the promise of decadent morally-compromising foie gras, which a roulade failed to deliver. I'm guessing when it comes to foie gras, I'm all for heating things up. The duck pâté, stuffed in toast, was almost forgettable.
The description on the menu listed 'pastry' but I found buttered toast instead. Maybe puff pastry would have been too rich for the overall ensemble, no?
Mum also picked something new, warm green asparagus, topped with organic poached egg, smoked ham with garlic saffron mayonnaise and a small salad on the side. It was a pretty dish abeit one major faux pas -GASP- PEA Alert!
PEA as in Poached Egg Abnormality. Yeap, someone forgot to fish the poached egg out of the water and the yolk was cooked thoroughly. Tsk tsk.
Yang had the lobster raviolis and Dad opted for the warm millefeuille of vegetables and cured salmon. Both didn't differ much from the last visit.
Dad's restrictive diet hooked in the Catch of The Day, a pan-fried oven-baked red snapper. He's a man of few words at the dinner table, so the only afterthought we squeezed out him was, "Fish was too small... I expected a bigger piece". I guess that was the only mishap; otherwise we would have heard a spew of diatribe over the next days.
Tonight's braised lamb shank with homemade tagliatelle harboured both delight and dismay. Though the lamb biddingly tender, the same cannot be said for the tagliatelle. I thought last week's thick tough tagliatelle was a pigment of my imagination but turns out, it wasn't. Tonight's tagliatelle was most certainly undercooked and I could feel the doughyness of the pasta nudged against my teeth as I bit into it.
Steak is Count-On-Me dish in any respectable French bistro and at Bistro Petit Salut, I weaned my cravings with an awesome grilled grainfed sirloin steak.
I loved how the steak was served nude, without sloppy gravy sploshed all over it. Though this dish is typically served with fries, I requested for their creamier-than-thou mashed potatoes, which Rub-A-Dub-Dubbed merrily with the caramelized onions and sauce.
Mum tried something new too, the provencal-style braised pork spareribs, a respectably-sized rack served on top of mushrooms, tomatoes and roots vegetables.
For dessert, Dad had his now-regular fresh fruits with sorbet, while Yang chose the chocolate tart fondant.
Mum eased my dessert dilemma by ordering the cheesecake and sorbet. Both made from scratch in-house, the homemade cheesecake and citrus sorbet performed a charming balancing act. The cheesecake was denser than others as it was made with light cheese, instead of the regular cream cheese but its heaviness was eased by the icy citrus sorbet.
I picked the Coupe Latte because it was one dessert I thought I had not come across in other menus. Coffee filled close to half of the glass mug and found itself in good company of Charlotte finger chunks and vanilla ice cream; all under the safe shelter of chocolate-drizzled whipped cream.
Just when I thought the dessert tasted 'oddly familar,' I suddenly realised it could have passed off as the upsized version of the treat from Iggy's. I see (and taste) crunchy chocolate balls too!
Cosy bistro in the neighbourhood... Bistro Petit Salut is a restaurant that I would love to like. Both times I was there, there were large groups with very poorly-behaved kids. Yes, it wasn't the fault of the restaurant, I guess I just feel jinxed. The food is mostly average and not exactly memorable, apart from the steak and cheesecake. The only thing consistent was its friendly service. Perhaps I should stick to lunch instead.
If only Mum were a drunken alcoholic - that would have made things simpler because I could easily dismissed those words as gibberish muttered out of drunken stupor. Sigh, don't do this to me Mum.
No, you are right. It's not the end of the world and I will just have to be very patient. Very very patient. We celebrated Dad's birthday at Bistro Petit Salut. Don't worry Dad, you don't look a day over 45! Not that he really cares. My dad is someone who believes in aging gracefully and *cough* naturally. Ha, seriously Dad!
We had a total of twelve dishes between the four of us.
My starter was a showcase of duck prepared in three different ways. First, a delightful homemade duck rillette, duck confit shredded and mixed with herbs. I admit I was gripped by the promise of decadent morally-compromising foie gras, which a roulade failed to deliver. I'm guessing when it comes to foie gras, I'm all for heating things up. The duck pâté, stuffed in toast, was almost forgettable.
The description on the menu listed 'pastry' but I found buttered toast instead. Maybe puff pastry would have been too rich for the overall ensemble, no?
Mum also picked something new, warm green asparagus, topped with organic poached egg, smoked ham with garlic saffron mayonnaise and a small salad on the side. It was a pretty dish abeit one major faux pas -GASP- PEA Alert!
PEA as in Poached Egg Abnormality. Yeap, someone forgot to fish the poached egg out of the water and the yolk was cooked thoroughly. Tsk tsk.
Yang had the lobster raviolis and Dad opted for the warm millefeuille of vegetables and cured salmon. Both didn't differ much from the last visit.
Dad's restrictive diet hooked in the Catch of The Day, a pan-fried oven-baked red snapper. He's a man of few words at the dinner table, so the only afterthought we squeezed out him was, "Fish was too small... I expected a bigger piece". I guess that was the only mishap; otherwise we would have heard a spew of diatribe over the next days.
Tonight's braised lamb shank with homemade tagliatelle harboured both delight and dismay. Though the lamb biddingly tender, the same cannot be said for the tagliatelle. I thought last week's thick tough tagliatelle was a pigment of my imagination but turns out, it wasn't. Tonight's tagliatelle was most certainly undercooked and I could feel the doughyness of the pasta nudged against my teeth as I bit into it.
Steak is Count-On-Me dish in any respectable French bistro and at Bistro Petit Salut, I weaned my cravings with an awesome grilled grainfed sirloin steak.
I loved how the steak was served nude, without sloppy gravy sploshed all over it. Though this dish is typically served with fries, I requested for their creamier-than-thou mashed potatoes, which Rub-A-Dub-Dubbed merrily with the caramelized onions and sauce.
Mum tried something new too, the provencal-style braised pork spareribs, a respectably-sized rack served on top of mushrooms, tomatoes and roots vegetables.
For dessert, Dad had his now-regular fresh fruits with sorbet, while Yang chose the chocolate tart fondant.
Mum eased my dessert dilemma by ordering the cheesecake and sorbet. Both made from scratch in-house, the homemade cheesecake and citrus sorbet performed a charming balancing act. The cheesecake was denser than others as it was made with light cheese, instead of the regular cream cheese but its heaviness was eased by the icy citrus sorbet.
I picked the Coupe Latte because it was one dessert I thought I had not come across in other menus. Coffee filled close to half of the glass mug and found itself in good company of Charlotte finger chunks and vanilla ice cream; all under the safe shelter of chocolate-drizzled whipped cream.
Just when I thought the dessert tasted 'oddly familar,' I suddenly realised it could have passed off as the upsized version of the treat from Iggy's. I see (and taste) crunchy chocolate balls too!
Cosy bistro in the neighbourhood... Bistro Petit Salut is a restaurant that I would love to like. Both times I was there, there were large groups with very poorly-behaved kids. Yes, it wasn't the fault of the restaurant, I guess I just feel jinxed. The food is mostly average and not exactly memorable, apart from the steak and cheesecake. The only thing consistent was its friendly service. Perhaps I should stick to lunch instead.
Thursday, September 18
Wasabi Tei, Far East Plaza
To say that this place fills up quickly is an understatement. I thought it was disturbingly kiasu of Yang and I to make a beeline for Wasabi Tei at 5.40pm. However, surprise surprise or perhaps in context of Singapore, unsurprisingly there was a queue and doors weren't even open yet.
Yang and I lucked out by being no. 12 & 13 in the queue. TIP #1 The early bird scores a seat in the 16-seater cubbyhole restuarant.
After reading the online reviews, we were amply prepared for the less-than-hospitable service of this husband-and-wife team. Sharp, unsmiling and aloof, it felt like Dinner with The Discipline Masters but I found the entire scenario hilarious. TIP #2 Keep your attitude, they have enough of their own.
And just remember The Triple 'O' Rule - One Order Only
Unlike most eateries, you don't order your drink before placing your food order. You don't order before or after your dining companions. You aren't allowed additional orders after your first order.
In a way, it does make sense as the husband / chef is the only one responsible for preparing the sashimi and sushi, as well as ALL the hot food, hence acute time management is second to nothing.
After our orders were taken, the appetizer was served. The small dish contained something unappetizing-looking that strangely resembled dried tea leaves. However, a couple of strands was all it took to convince me of my impertinence.
I'm guessing it was wakame or some seaweed type braised with minced chicken. Despite its unknown origins, it was an appetizer that personified Wasabi Tei - dismissable at first glance but packed with flavour.
I found it really funny that the most of the people around us ordered only hot food. Without Yang, I would have probably skipped those parts of the menu but this isn't to say the hot food isn't good.
We had the oyakodon, which literally translates to 'mother-and-child donburi'. The half-cooked egg glazed over the juicy chunks of chicken, creating a warm blanket of egginess that seeped through the rice grains. It was the Japanese version of comfort food.
The unagi maki was excruciatingly good too. I made a promise to myself to order a whole slab on my next visit.
As the sashimi selection was rather limited, we only had the salmon sashimi. Those thick fat slabs made up for everything - the hostile service, the limited menu, the cramped space... Those became immaterial as soon as I bit into them flabs. This was perhaps one of those rare tear-jerker moments, where the words 'thick' and 'flabs' are used affectionately.
We beat the queue. We scored ourselves a couple of bar seats. Can I just say it was super stressful to order, knowing that it was our one and only chance to savour the potentially good food without having to rejoin the queue or re-queue another day?
SO I PANICKED.
Yes, I did. I couldn't handle such pressure. I knew I wanted sushi, I just didn't know what other sushi to order. Under the Wife's look of utter disinterest, I order the Mixed Sushi without thinking if it was something I really wanted. Come to think of it, I didn't even have time to second-guess my decision.
But there wasn't a need to. The mixed sushi was everything I could have asked for and perhaps, more. Two swordfish nigiris, two salmon nigiris, two chutoro nigiris (I think because it was better than your regular maguro), one hamachi nigiri and six salmon makis. The freshest fish slice draped lazily over the nub of rice, demanding minimal effort for maximum enoyment.
By the end of the meal, we would like to think that we almost cracked the Wife's resilience. After thanking her for the meal, we left seeing half a smile on her face. Oddly enough, I admire Team Husband and Wife for choosing to be mean and nasty - otherwise they will be bullied silly by customers.
If you are in dire need of the regular 'irrashimase!' type of service, avoid Wasabi Tei like the plague. If you get bored of queuing, grab a discounted magazine from opposite store ANA Bookstore or simply leave the queue. However if you are prepared to wait and endure the service, your belly will thank you for it.
Yang and I lucked out by being no. 12 & 13 in the queue. TIP #1 The early bird scores a seat in the 16-seater cubbyhole restuarant.
After reading the online reviews, we were amply prepared for the less-than-hospitable service of this husband-and-wife team. Sharp, unsmiling and aloof, it felt like Dinner with The Discipline Masters but I found the entire scenario hilarious. TIP #2 Keep your attitude, they have enough of their own.
And just remember The Triple 'O' Rule - One Order Only
Unlike most eateries, you don't order your drink before placing your food order. You don't order before or after your dining companions. You aren't allowed additional orders after your first order.
In a way, it does make sense as the husband / chef is the only one responsible for preparing the sashimi and sushi, as well as ALL the hot food, hence acute time management is second to nothing.
After our orders were taken, the appetizer was served. The small dish contained something unappetizing-looking that strangely resembled dried tea leaves. However, a couple of strands was all it took to convince me of my impertinence.
I'm guessing it was wakame or some seaweed type braised with minced chicken. Despite its unknown origins, it was an appetizer that personified Wasabi Tei - dismissable at first glance but packed with flavour.
I found it really funny that the most of the people around us ordered only hot food. Without Yang, I would have probably skipped those parts of the menu but this isn't to say the hot food isn't good.
We had the oyakodon, which literally translates to 'mother-and-child donburi'. The half-cooked egg glazed over the juicy chunks of chicken, creating a warm blanket of egginess that seeped through the rice grains. It was the Japanese version of comfort food.
The unagi maki was excruciatingly good too. I made a promise to myself to order a whole slab on my next visit.
As the sashimi selection was rather limited, we only had the salmon sashimi. Those thick fat slabs made up for everything - the hostile service, the limited menu, the cramped space... Those became immaterial as soon as I bit into them flabs. This was perhaps one of those rare tear-jerker moments, where the words 'thick' and 'flabs' are used affectionately.
We beat the queue. We scored ourselves a couple of bar seats. Can I just say it was super stressful to order, knowing that it was our one and only chance to savour the potentially good food without having to rejoin the queue or re-queue another day?
SO I PANICKED.
Yes, I did. I couldn't handle such pressure. I knew I wanted sushi, I just didn't know what other sushi to order. Under the Wife's look of utter disinterest, I order the Mixed Sushi without thinking if it was something I really wanted. Come to think of it, I didn't even have time to second-guess my decision.
But there wasn't a need to. The mixed sushi was everything I could have asked for and perhaps, more. Two swordfish nigiris, two salmon nigiris, two chutoro nigiris (I think because it was better than your regular maguro), one hamachi nigiri and six salmon makis. The freshest fish slice draped lazily over the nub of rice, demanding minimal effort for maximum enoyment.
By the end of the meal, we would like to think that we almost cracked the Wife's resilience. After thanking her for the meal, we left seeing half a smile on her face. Oddly enough, I admire Team Husband and Wife for choosing to be mean and nasty - otherwise they will be bullied silly by customers.
If you are in dire need of the regular 'irrashimase!' type of service, avoid Wasabi Tei like the plague. If you get bored of queuing, grab a discounted magazine from opposite store ANA Bookstore or simply leave the queue. However if you are prepared to wait and endure the service, your belly will thank you for it.
Monday, September 15
Bistro Petit Salut, Jalan Merah Saga
If Yixiao can't come to Paris, Paris will come to Yixiao.
In the form of a bistro. Oh well, that will do (for now).
My mum, sister and I have fond memories of Au Petit Salut but Dad was a new Convert- that's 'convert' with a capital 'C'. Just imagine we went back twice in a week, once over the weekend and the second time for Dad's birthday dinner.
Ever since Dempsey and Rochester wrestled over the 'See And Be Seen' title, Holland Village and Chip Bee Gardens regained its quiet, earnest vibe (phew thankyou!). When Au Petit Salut jumped onto the Dempsey bandwagon and moved to Harding Road, the owners converted their existing quarters to 'Bistro Petit Salut', a casual neighbourhood eatery.
Though I do prefer their lunch menu, the variety for the 3-course set dinner was good enough to get us going. But before that, we were served (refillable) baskets of plain white baguette with chilled butter slices. Though slightly pedestrian, the baguette slices were toasty warm. Give me toasty white over lukewarm artisan any day.
For one of our starters, three lobster raviolis sat pretty amidst sautéed spinach, tomato puree and light bisque emulsion. Save for the thick ravioli skins, this was pretty good. I could actually see the lobster bits (not like Who Shrunk My Lobster?) and the tomato-bisque base moist the raviolis, without turning them into a soggy mess.
The warm millefeuille of vegetables, cured salmon and couscous salad, tarragon dressing was something unexpected. I was thinking of puff pastry layers like the dessert pastry; instead the cured salmon and vegetables came wrapped in a filo parcel.
A French classic, the traditional bouillabaisse was a robust fishy soup filled with prawns and squid. Seafood soup is really not my thing but you would have probably expected something like that if you knew what you were ordering.
Onto the mains
Mum's whole braised lamb shank drew looks of envy from the rest of the table and deservingly so as it was so tender, you could have removed your dentures and massaged it slowly with your gums. The lamb was served with homemade tagliatelle that, like the ravioli, was a little too thick. Maybe I'm getting it all wrong but do the French normally prepare thicker pastas?
I had the veal loin wrapped with grilled vegetables (hardly noticeable) and bacon, served spinach and mashed potato. I really enjoyed it; of course this isn't exactly a revelation as you can wrap anything in bacon (see: asparagus) and it would taste good (yes, even asparagus!). The mashed potato proved to be the unsuspecting dark horse.
Remember the episode of Friends where Ross asked Monica if she could "make the mashed potatoes with the lumps"? Well Ross would have balked at this as the mashed potato at Bistro Petit Salut was incredibly creamy, almost as if it had been given a good whip.
Sorry Phoebs, they don't add peas and onions.
As you can tell, I've been catching up with my Friends re-runs.
Dad had the “Papillote” fish of the day, a slice of sea bass topped with julienned vegetables and fresh herbs, oven-baked in parchment paper. It was an incredibly light dish that caused Dad's glaze to wonder over to the lamb shank. I'm sure it was tasty for Dad polished it off but let's just say, he had no trouble cleaning out Mum's lamb shank thereafter either.
Done and Ready For Desserts
The fresh fruit and citrus sorbet platter proved ideal for not-big-on-desserts Dad. I'm not about to suspect if I was adopted or anything as I definitely inherited his *ahem* temper. Haha.
The chocolate tart fondant reminded me of the milk chocolate tart I had at Spitalfields Market, except the biscuit crust was harder and less buttery. It wasn't bend-over-in-ectasy intense, good for those who bend over for the wrong reasons after awfully rich desserts. The berry coulis and (store-bought?) pistachio ice cream went well together but when you throw in the chocolate tart fondant, three's definitely a crowd.
The choux buns appears on both Petit Salut's lunch and dinner menu, which should be an indication of how popular they are. Stuffed with vanilla ice cream and smothered warm chocolate sauce, they would have easily satiated anybody's sweet tooth but I wasn't entirely convinced. Though I did help to finish them, I couldn't help but think they tasted 'store-bought', as in you know frozen choux buns, in-house brand ice creams etc
Service at Bistro Petit Salut was friendly and our waiter, who gave us more than his two cents' worth, was assertive but in a friendly 'wise sage' manner. The only thing that threatened to split some hairs was a bunch of kids who treated bistro as their backyard.
Must. Remain. Calm.
There's much to revel in at charming Bistro Petit Salut - just leave the Fine Dining Dummies Guide at the door or with the kids.
In the form of a bistro. Oh well, that will do (for now).
My mum, sister and I have fond memories of Au Petit Salut but Dad was a new Convert- that's 'convert' with a capital 'C'. Just imagine we went back twice in a week, once over the weekend and the second time for Dad's birthday dinner.
Ever since Dempsey and Rochester wrestled over the 'See And Be Seen' title, Holland Village and Chip Bee Gardens regained its quiet, earnest vibe (phew thankyou!). When Au Petit Salut jumped onto the Dempsey bandwagon and moved to Harding Road, the owners converted their existing quarters to 'Bistro Petit Salut', a casual neighbourhood eatery.
Though I do prefer their lunch menu, the variety for the 3-course set dinner was good enough to get us going. But before that, we were served (refillable) baskets of plain white baguette with chilled butter slices. Though slightly pedestrian, the baguette slices were toasty warm. Give me toasty white over lukewarm artisan any day.
For one of our starters, three lobster raviolis sat pretty amidst sautéed spinach, tomato puree and light bisque emulsion. Save for the thick ravioli skins, this was pretty good. I could actually see the lobster bits (not like Who Shrunk My Lobster?) and the tomato-bisque base moist the raviolis, without turning them into a soggy mess.
The warm millefeuille of vegetables, cured salmon and couscous salad, tarragon dressing was something unexpected. I was thinking of puff pastry layers like the dessert pastry; instead the cured salmon and vegetables came wrapped in a filo parcel.
A French classic, the traditional bouillabaisse was a robust fishy soup filled with prawns and squid. Seafood soup is really not my thing but you would have probably expected something like that if you knew what you were ordering.
Onto the mains
Mum's whole braised lamb shank drew looks of envy from the rest of the table and deservingly so as it was so tender, you could have removed your dentures and massaged it slowly with your gums. The lamb was served with homemade tagliatelle that, like the ravioli, was a little too thick. Maybe I'm getting it all wrong but do the French normally prepare thicker pastas?
I had the veal loin wrapped with grilled vegetables (hardly noticeable) and bacon, served spinach and mashed potato. I really enjoyed it; of course this isn't exactly a revelation as you can wrap anything in bacon (see: asparagus) and it would taste good (yes, even asparagus!). The mashed potato proved to be the unsuspecting dark horse.
Remember the episode of Friends where Ross asked Monica if she could "make the mashed potatoes with the lumps"? Well Ross would have balked at this as the mashed potato at Bistro Petit Salut was incredibly creamy, almost as if it had been given a good whip.
Sorry Phoebs, they don't add peas and onions.
As you can tell, I've been catching up with my Friends re-runs.
Dad had the “Papillote” fish of the day, a slice of sea bass topped with julienned vegetables and fresh herbs, oven-baked in parchment paper. It was an incredibly light dish that caused Dad's glaze to wonder over to the lamb shank. I'm sure it was tasty for Dad polished it off but let's just say, he had no trouble cleaning out Mum's lamb shank thereafter either.
Done and Ready For Desserts
The fresh fruit and citrus sorbet platter proved ideal for not-big-on-desserts Dad. I'm not about to suspect if I was adopted or anything as I definitely inherited his *ahem* temper. Haha.
The chocolate tart fondant reminded me of the milk chocolate tart I had at Spitalfields Market, except the biscuit crust was harder and less buttery. It wasn't bend-over-in-ectasy intense, good for those who bend over for the wrong reasons after awfully rich desserts. The berry coulis and (store-bought?) pistachio ice cream went well together but when you throw in the chocolate tart fondant, three's definitely a crowd.
The choux buns appears on both Petit Salut's lunch and dinner menu, which should be an indication of how popular they are. Stuffed with vanilla ice cream and smothered warm chocolate sauce, they would have easily satiated anybody's sweet tooth but I wasn't entirely convinced. Though I did help to finish them, I couldn't help but think they tasted 'store-bought', as in you know frozen choux buns, in-house brand ice creams etc
Service at Bistro Petit Salut was friendly and our waiter, who gave us more than his two cents' worth, was assertive but in a friendly 'wise sage' manner. The only thing that threatened to split some hairs was a bunch of kids who treated bistro as their backyard.
Must. Remain. Calm.
There's much to revel in at charming Bistro Petit Salut - just leave the Fine Dining Dummies Guide at the door or with the kids.
Friday, September 12
House Warming Party
After our renovations were 95% done (5% because my dad absolutely hates the bay window so we could be ripping that apart soon), my mum invited some family friends over for dinner. My mum had always wanted to invite our family friends over, and changing our sofa set and fabric covers seemed like good enough reason to celebrate.
We've got new cushion covers, come celebrate with us!
Hallmark should make cards like these... Or maybe Edward Monkton huh?
Anyway since our guests were fine cooks themselves, we decided to KISS by preparing a menu that revolved around prawn noodles.
All afternoon, my mum was checking on the soup, boiling the spare ribs, braising the duck, shelling prawns, wrapping dumplings... My sister did the flower decorations and I whipped up quite a sweat setting the table. I can so see some Singaporean guys mentally striking people like me off their list "Can't cook... Can't clean... Must book trip to Vietnam"
Basically we operated on Have It Your Way mode - one could choose from yellow noodles, flat yellow noodles or thick bee hoon; then add the condiments- prawns, spare ribs, fish cake, kang kong, bee sprouts; and enjoy with fried meat dumplings and braised duck.
I heart the dumplings made by my mum, made with minced pork, chestnut, spring onions and a whole bunch of seasonings that she measured using 'gut feel'. We normally throw them into our steamboat pots, but this time round, we deep-fried them dumplings as appetizers. I should probably get to know this recipe as it may increase my marriage desirability quota by 25%.
No need for dating agencies or matchmakers, just learn how to make dumplings. Yeah freakin' right.
And if dumplings don't work, the braised duck might. It should have been Prawn Mee's night but the braised duck stole the show (for me). I lucked out as it was put in front of me on the dinner table (or did i choose to sit in front of it?); and spent the entire evening giving new meaning of public display of affection.
My assembled bowl of prawn mee- with a duck drumstick thrown in for good measure.
We've got new cushion covers, come celebrate with us!
Hallmark should make cards like these... Or maybe Edward Monkton huh?
Anyway since our guests were fine cooks themselves, we decided to KISS by preparing a menu that revolved around prawn noodles.
All afternoon, my mum was checking on the soup, boiling the spare ribs, braising the duck, shelling prawns, wrapping dumplings... My sister did the flower decorations and I whipped up quite a sweat setting the table. I can so see some Singaporean guys mentally striking people like me off their list "Can't cook... Can't clean... Must book trip to Vietnam"
Basically we operated on Have It Your Way mode - one could choose from yellow noodles, flat yellow noodles or thick bee hoon; then add the condiments- prawns, spare ribs, fish cake, kang kong, bee sprouts; and enjoy with fried meat dumplings and braised duck.
I heart the dumplings made by my mum, made with minced pork, chestnut, spring onions and a whole bunch of seasonings that she measured using 'gut feel'. We normally throw them into our steamboat pots, but this time round, we deep-fried them dumplings as appetizers. I should probably get to know this recipe as it may increase my marriage desirability quota by 25%.
No need for dating agencies or matchmakers, just learn how to make dumplings. Yeah freakin' right.
And if dumplings don't work, the braised duck might. It should have been Prawn Mee's night but the braised duck stole the show (for me). I lucked out as it was put in front of me on the dinner table (or did i choose to sit in front of it?); and spent the entire evening giving new meaning of public display of affection.
My assembled bowl of prawn mee- with a duck drumstick thrown in for good measure.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)