Ramen Marutama, The Central

When one is asked to describe Japanese stereotypes, the result is often either blushingly embarrassing or one of faux disgust. Something lurks beneath the façade of the world’s second largest economy as literature paints a picture of a nation with more issues than Vogue magazine. Then again, we are only humans and thus it is only naturally we think of the negative snapshots.

A country whose beliefs are more tightly wound up than a maki roll, I do believe however that many of us have benefited from this fanatical devotion to details and excellence, especially when it comes to food. Hey I’m a foodie, not a sociologist!

Just when you thought Singapore was done with building malls (Vivocity what?), up springs up another! Singapore’s latest mall-baby, The Central sits snugly along the Singapore River, only a boulder’s throw away from Clarke Quay and A MERE TEN MINUTES WALK FROM SCHOOL. Now who could say no to another scoop of ice cream mall? Having said that, I gotta admit I didn’t bother much with just-another-mall until Chubby Hubby blogged about (and highly recommended) Ramen Marutama. Determined to get there before the press and crowds, I suggested to Family to have dinner there tonight.


Yaki Char Siu

Many of us would have tried Japanese Char Siu before but how about “Yaki Char Siu”? Why not, you say. A promising start to our meal, the tender finish and smoky grilled aroma conocted a sensory experience that left us cooing in unison.


Dashimaki Tamago

The Dashimaki Tamago (rolled omelette) above was pretty much a work of art as each cube was pretty in pastel yellow, affixed with a golden brown roof. It had an incredibly soft texture which hemmed in the sweetness of the dashi stock. I know it sounds odd but I could, or rather should describe this as ‘ethereal’...



We had three different kinds of ramen- the classic Marutama ramen in chicken stock, char siu iri ramen and kakuni ire ramen (stewed belly pork)- which came garnished with spring onion and seaweed. For good measure, you could always add the fried garlic, which added bitter undertones to the dish.



One of the first things I noticed was the thin ramen noodles, which resembled Cantonese egg noodles. Rather uninspiring. Initially, the broth was delectable so I drank it all up- as in tilted and cleaned out all three bowls. Oh no, BIGGO EL MISTAKO.. This wasn’t a smart move as it left me incredibly thirsty and the tip of my tongue numb-my. As I’m typing this out, I am still rubbing my tongue against the back of my teeth, hoping to get rid of that weird feeling.


Stewed pork ramen

I know I sound harsh but I would say the ramens are not bad but not staggeringly good either. I did feel like I was eating a very posh bowl of instant noodles... Now that I have fulfilled my ‘Been There Done That’ ego trip, I can safely say that I still prefer Tampopo’s ramen.


Seasoned egg

Somehow I just hate deriding Japanese restaurants, I always imagine some Japanese chef on the brink of a cliff, threatening to jump off unless I declare my undying support for his hand-sliced ramen. Either that or after writing this review, a samurai blade comes slicing across the room, heading straight for -too mordid to continue-


Even thirstier than before.

Hello, Mr Japanese Chef.. don't take it too hard yar?

It's not you, it's me.

Ramen Marutama
#03-90/91
6 Eu Tong Sen Street
Singapore 059817

Overload on board Flight of Fantasy

My younger sister went MIA for a few days and just returned only to inform us that she had gone to greece- alone.

Like waddddd

Technically it shouldn't come as any surprise to me because in my family, the degree of risk-taking is inversely proportional with age... but having been to greece and knowing what it feels like to be surrounded by a flock of hungry sleazy vultures, I truly salute her bravey.

At least she enjoyed herself- I hope. My sister and mum thoroughly enjoyed Taiwan too and I am in a ridiculously whiny "gimme my vacation" mood. Thanks to my internship, I am going nowhere and my foray into the undiscovered probably stretches as far as the pantry.

Check out this course that my school is offering for summer.

Global Tourism... Win a trip to Bali!



Thou shall be glad for internship even though thou is missing out on all the fun.


Thou shall seek solace in kaya fondue.


Thou shall not become a frog in the well toad in a pond.


Korean BBQ at Jaang Shou Restaurant
Thou shall embark on a gastro-travel- good thing they don't have weight limits on this aircraft.

pIN-uP GIRL.

I was having my regular cup of coffee, reading my presentation notes when something prompted the nerves in my brain to look down to my left.

GASPPPP

Wardrobe Malfunction!

There was this gaping hold at the side of my Zara capris. Horror of horrors! My zip had given way to an inch wide tear... Damn these "Made In Bangladesh" capris!

I know what you must be thinking: you BLOG about food, you ARE A FOODIE, given the forces of TENSION, your seams SHOULD split on a regular basis. DOH...

HAHA. Funny.

Of course, I panicked. Of course, I had to get all itchy fingers... I tried to fiddle around with the zip and ended up aggravating the problem as the slit mutated into a six inch long tear.

Throw in a blond hunk and a bunch of conniving cheerleaders, and this would have been the perfect Rob Schneider movie on underdogs. But thank goodness it was still early in the morning and school was relatively empty.

I hurriedly walked briskly over to 7-11 to get safety pins... Hallelujah for those "20 pins for $2"... I had to use 5 pins to hold together my seam together. Dang, it sure sounds a lot sexier as I am typing it out… “held together by pins that threatened to release at the slightest tug”

Though not quite ‘Janet-Superbowl,’ it definitely wasn’t like the Liz-Hurley-1994-Versace-dress experience I had been hoping for.

An msn message from a dear friend reminded me that I had been neglecting my blog.. Well, HERE I AM ... back from the doomed clutches of blooddyyy CAT presentation.

The worst is over.

At least not till tomorrow. I am done with 2 presenations, 1 more to go.. 4 written reports to and a quiz to go. If I had learnt anything from 15 weeks of group projects, it is "thou must choose group mates carefully" for the next few terms. You know sometimes, it is not just the end result that matters.. of course an A+ grade always seems to mitigate damages but the working style and expectations are just as important. I find myself veering off the path of sanity, cracking under pressure thanks to those who remain oblivious to deadlines. Well, I have definitely learnt to deal with these people by taking on a "You swim, I swim, You sink... I have other areas to bank on" approach.

Keep cool.

Of course, I am no poster child for 'Groupmate of The Year' and that's why I need to work with people who won't have me billing for anger management classes. On the bright side, vile group mates exist for a good reason- they make you appreciate the yay group mates!

I promise *palm on chest* to update more.. about food... later..

See ya folks..

OOOF at Abof.

I was surprised when Mum suggested Abof for dinner. She, being one who digs tastebud-assulting spicy indonesian and malay dishes, had always held low regard for blander fare such as Japanese.

Eyebrows were raised when we learnt that prices were tweaked upwards. the restaurant was barely half full on a Saturday night and by raising prices, I didn't see how small-time regulars would be inclined to re-visit. Wouldn't it be interesting to delve deeper into their marketing strategy?

What's a trip to Abof's without the Best Friend's Platter? That would be akin to visiting Morton's without having steak or a dim sum restaurant without ordering Char Siew Bao. The amazing thing is each time I go through the BFP, something new strikes me.



This time round the curried herring was stirring. To Asians, the liberal cream-mayo content compared to curry powder is unorthodox and it almosts tastes like mock curry. It is an acquired taste and best enjoyed against the sourish tinge of pumpernickel toast.
The smoked salmon ws naturally satisfying but the mashed egg yolk within proved to be a tad too rich for my liking.
There's something unusual about the pink shrimp- it tasted fresh or rather, too fresh if that is ever possible. HAHA.. Having said that, I would believe it to be the natural sweetness of pink shrimp.
It was a pity that liberal amounts of remoulade sauce and shallots mask the natural taste of roast beef .



For something new, we picked the breaded fried oysters. these nuggets of delish were a-third the size of my palm. Prying it open, i found a mix pouch of bacon and oysters, which created a "arh, so that's why it tastes so marvellous" moment. Though oyster enthusists may scoff at the bacon addition, I was glad for the unyielding oysters aroma would have been too overpowering for my liking.



You know those potato wedges they sell in frozen packs always taste like they are choked full of additives.. but this is different with none of that questionable whatssits..

Apart from Swedish meatballs, Scandinavian cusisine remains an unchartered terrotry. However, I do love the unprocessed au natural taste and could never say 'no' to pumpernickel toast.

It was my third visit to Abof and frankly, I wasn't quite so charmed. Perhaps the novelty has worn of and the cracks are beginning to show. Service was as warm as Scandinavian winter and the upward adjustment of prices was a difficult pill to swallow.

Aböf Restaurant & Tea Lounge
Millenia Walk #01-109
9 Raffles Boulevard
Tel: 6338 7113
Opening hours: 8:30am - 11pm daily, last order at 10pm

Paulaner Bräuhaus

Urgh, we are finally entering week 12 of school. Just ask any SMU student how they are coping, chances are you will get a semi-comatose dazed look on their face. With four reports and three presentations due in the following couple of weeks, my mind feels like a pothole of deadlines. You know when you are entering the whelm of no return when blogging, you feel the need to add appendices and footnotes. Yesterday, my mum and elder sister flew off to Taiwan for a holiday and though I am stuck in Singapore -desk bound and chained to my laptop-, I managed to get a little travelling done- gastronomically-speaking, that is.

I once heard someone comment that the German language always makes her feel like soneone is being interrogated. While I agree with her that it isn't the most romantic of languages, well-prepared German food can be arrestingly good.

It was near impossible to get a table around town without a reservation on a Saturday night. Totally uninspired by the crowds, bright acrylic decor and gimmicky fare in Marina Square, we decided to walk over to Millenia Walk, which though only a short five minutes walk away, was a complete different picture of civilisation. When Jimmy suggested Paulaner Bräuhaus, my curiosisty was piqued.

Level 1 is the bar, where they proudly showcase "handicraft beer made by their resident brewmaster". By the time we left, there was a live band playing, which added to the festivities. One level above the bar, the dining area was decorated like a beer hall- a Maibaum (16th century Bavarian architectural feature) dominates centerstage; indigenous decorative iron frames and pendant lamps exude an out-of-singapore (exactly what I needed!) atmoshpere; numerous pictures of scenes in Germany and German folks spot the interior walls. It reminded me of a German Hard Rock Cafe, but still it was more fun than touche. Funny enough, this gobal brewery chain has more outlets in China than Germany

Old timers would find the menu at Paulaner Brauhaus comfortingly familar and probably zoom in on their favourites. As first time diners (read: Must Taste it All), we went with the Chef Jody Yu Platter- a combination of grilled roast meat specialties & sausages. What I love about this platter, is that there is ALMOST something for every meat lover (for those of you who prefer beef or fish, Morton's and Long John's Silver are situated nearby).

The works: Frankfurter, Debreziner, Garlic sausage, Cheese knacker, Nuremberg sausages, roast duckling, spit roasted chicken, roast caraway pork, grilled pork knuckle. Served on bed of sauerkraut, braised cabbage and German dumplings

May Day May Day! M-O-D, M-O-D

Meat Over Dose? Of course, it is Meat Overload.. this is, after all, German food... were you expecting tofu and legumes? HAHA.. My ill-disciplined tastebuds couldn't tell the difference between the sausages as they were all tasty, though not exactly unique. Paulaner Bräuhaus does a surprisingly good job with their roasts. To me, duck and german food has always been mutually exclusive but with results this satifying, I no longer see a reason to separate the two. No longer just boring chicken, the spit roasted chicken shone with herby flavour. I was little disappointed with the pork knuckle as while slicing, my index finger actually grew sore from the tough texture, but the sound of the skin cackling in between bites was awfully gratifying. Coated in sauce, the tender slabs of roast caraway pork were my pick of the lot.

Never been a fan of german dumplings and after this experience, the satisfaction quotient of this floury mass (mess) remains a mystery to me. Luckily, the cheese knacker stepped up to the challenge. Providing a life float from all that meat and flour was the palatable cabbage patch pair- braised red cabbage and sauerkraut (which by right deserves more than a sentence but I have REPORT DEADLINES to meet).

We were stuffed all right but against our conscience and better judgement, we ordered their recommended Grandma's Warm Apple Strudel. Now what can't MY grandma make such strudels? Unlike the flaky creamy Australian strudel, this German strudel had a crusty attention-grabbing top shell that bore undertones of caramelized sweetness, and the apples, raisins and nuts stuffing received praise from my dad- someone had never been a fan of desserts. Served with bourbon-vanilla sauce and vanilla ice cream, it was a decadant way to end off our meal.

Paulaner Bräuhaus Singapore
9 Raffles Boulevard,
Time² @ Millenia Walk,
Singapore 039596

More at Brussels Sprouts

Guess what?

Ever since a reader left me a comment about Brussels Sprouts, I have been meaning to make a second trip. Journey of Affirmation, perhaps? This time round, though I returned with a belly full of anticipation, I was quick to leave 'expectations' at the door. Thanks to the after-office peak hour jam, jimmy and I arrived thirty minutes late, only to find mum and dad half way through the sample platter. As I went through the menu, I wordlessly shoved down two frites, which could only be described as "limp blimp".

*Anticipation scuttles to join Expections*


Ta-dah!

Relegating all negative thoughts to a tiny secluded spot, we got down to business with the mussels. To make the most out of our visit, we had the highly recommended vin blanc (onion, parsley, celery, butter, white wine) and l' escargot (named after similar prepration methods as snails)

Before dinner, Jimmy earned himself a quzzical look from me when he asked if the restaurant served bread. "To soak up the sauce..." he explained. With the vin blanc, you might just be thinking the same. I thought the alcohol content was pretty high so all I had to do was ask for a wine glass and sieve.. VOILA! Madam, peut I présenter vin blanc 2007. HAHA.. I prefer the l' escargot, which was gratineed with garlic, wild herbs, butter, lemon sauce. More lemon sauce would have better balanced the overbearing garlic butter conoction but the dish was palatable as it was.



The mussels used were small (no bigger than my thumb) and they were good but nothing to shout about. The highlight for carb-loving me was the frites. -smirk-

When the mussels were served, we were told our frites would arrive a couple of minutes later because they were "still in the fryer..." With this, I perked up immediately. I could hardly resist when they finally arrived. Gingely, I selected one and in a defining moment, bit into the center. The frite gamely scorched the center of my tongue, pronouncing itself a winner. With a heave of relief, I was ready to
Welcome home, my forgive the inital frite faux pau.


Welcome home, my child.

I kept digging into the bottom of the Umbra bucket for my fvourite bits- those fried to death crisy nothings, which crackled a melodious tune as I bit into them.



In my opinion, the best part of an animal isn't the rib or belly but the cheeks. Unless your animal is anorexic, given the jaw exercise that any animal undertakes, the cheeks are designed to yield the most tender of meats.

At Brussel Sprouts, they were no exception. The braised beef cheeks disintegrated easily with a stab and a jab The beer aroma registered strongly, lending a bitter undertone to the otherwise insipid gravy. Interestingly enough, I had something similar to this in Brugge but Brussel Sprouts's version is by far the more memorable of the two. The accompanying pomme croquettes had a fine texture and thin well-breadcrumbed exterior. If like me you like my 'fried' crisp, fish them out before they turn mooshy in the gravy.



The glazed pork belly didn't sound or look all that exciting- it even reminded me of a dish created from a Tung Lok kitchen- but I gotta say, it was pretty darn amazing. The belly itself ceded defeat under the blunt cuts of the knife and the supple texture was absolutely praise-worthy. What the kitchen does with red cabbage is head-turningly good. Case in point: juniper berry honey & braised red cabbage where each shred was coated in a caramelized sweet tinge.



Overall, this visit to Brussel Sprouts helped salvage the previous experience. However, with my curiosity satisfied, I probably won't be making any dinner appoiments here... well, unless I'm in the mood for FRIED TO DEATH FRITES.. haha.. Here's an interesting article on Moules Et Frites from the New York Times.

Brussels Sprouts
80 Mohamed Sultan Road
#01-12 The Pier @ Robertson
Singapore 239013
Tel: +65 6887 4344
Open: Tuesdays to Thursdays: noon to 3pm, 5pm to midnight; Fridays: noon to 3pm, 5pm to 1am; Saturdays: noon to 1am; Sundays: noon to midnight; closed on Mondays

The alarm from my Nokia phone strikes promptly at 7am. It is a less than melodic tone, which sounds more like a command, rather than a gentle coax. I walk over to my oak study table where the handphone is placed and in my grogginess, struggle to hit the 'stop' button, instead of the center 'snooze' option, as that would prompt the same annoying tone 10 mins later.

I flip open my Fujitsu laptop, finger-aerobics "ctrl-alt-del" and wait for the password prompt. After typing in my password, the screen reveals a picture I took with Elena on a drizzly day back in Copehagen. I switch on Power98 on My Windows Media Player, get a hint of the hourly headlines, traffic and weather news.

Once music fills the room, I make my way into the bathroom to wash up. After applying the facial cleanser, I leave it on and brushed my teeth. The entire face-wash-teeth-brush process in done in two minutes.

Instinctively, I make my way to the dressing table, unscrewed my contact lens case and eyeballed the lens in. My Neutrogena SPH 30 Fine Fairness moisturizer sits there patiently, knowing that it would be a matter of seconds before I gently nudged the tip twice, gathering just enough for the day. The moisturizer glides only easily and I take care to dab some over my neck "the face line only ends at the bottom of your necklace". In similar fashion, I spotted Loreal concealer over my cheeks, carefully blending them in upward anti-clockwise direction, against the pull of gravity. The cream blusher comes on next. I smile- not out of happiness but due to the necessity to locate my cheekbones. Three to four swaps is usually good enough and again, I blend- this time, though, in outward fan direction. Finally, I pat on some pale eye shawdow to lighten the area beneath my eyes.

I didn't take long to dress as my outfits are usually decided a night before. I pick my shoes according to how much walking I have to do for the day- ballet flats or t-strap sandals for walkathons and wedges if I'm wearing the bermuda-shorts. A cursory check in the mirror and I'm off to join my parents who are usually already downstairs waiting for the 'kids'.

That is what I have been doing ever since school commenced, or rather, since 'god knows when'... With the exception of weekends and a couple of days, my routine remains unchanged. Even the traffic and weather reports suggest unmistakable predictability.

Today, I woke up feeling incredibly bored.

Almost a Pilgrimage

As soon as I laid eyes on the new Pilgrim Collection, I fell in love with it.

I have always had a soft spot for the DANISH label but the new collection takes the pastry (cake = danish pastry, geddit?) for being incredibly beautiful, not to mention timeless. When I was in Copenhagen, I would always walk past the store display with such desire but somehow as a SOB (student on budget) leaving on corn and pumpernickel bread, I could never justify the cost. And now that this brand has reached the sunny shores of Singapore, I am so tempted to get a piece.



They have just signed on Liv Tyler (who happens to be heck-loads gorgeous) to model for them.


Highly-coveted earrings..


The necklaces do seem to be more practical...

Don't be cruel..



But I do love the bracelet most of all.

Don't make me unleash my inner-veruca-salt...

I want i want i want....

Falling for the incessant publicity, I caught the first episode of Ugly Betty. It's definitely overhyped and cliche to the point where I didn't even feel like rooting for Betty, the underDOG. I think it was Helena Rubinstein who said, "There are no ugly women, only lazy ones.." And I swear, on a kidney, noone does it like MERYL STREEP.

The Pursuit of (fill in the blanks)

How's school?

How is it that whenever someone asks me this simple question, I find myself lost for words.

Instead, what takes the place of words is either a frown characterized by criss-crossed forehead wrinkles or a quizzical look that says nothing though actually I want to say it all.

School's boring. That's not true... I have enough projects to keep me thinking about my modules like a love forlorn creature. There are tiresome project group mates... in fact, the next time you wanna hear a joke, buzz me- the litter of lame-mo excuses and tales of incompetency are bound to tickle you.

School's rather interesting actually but truth is I think about it too much to actually think of it as something worth talking about.

I had an off-day today yay! as in I 'took five' from school and spent the day traipsing about Junction 8. Hanging out with school kids.. reminiscing about my youth. I caught The Pursuit of Happyness.. it was a real 'pursuit' alright... what a looong journey it felt like. The movie tells of the rags-to-riches tale of Chris Gardner, who ultimately rose to prominence as a stockbroker. What I cannot understand is how impeccably-pressed his suits looked THROUGHOUT the movie, despite being savings-less and paycheck-less during his internship (and he, who at the very bottom point of his life, slept in Subway toilets with his son).

He could have sold his soul to the devil.
Devil Wears Prada. Devil loves fashion.
Devil paid for his dry-cleaning bills.

Bad joke. Down boy!

Instead of the de-rigeur popcorn, I had a mixed bag of candy during the movie. Sour apple rings, sour peach, sour cola, sour strawberry stripes, strawberry gummy... I got all excited choosing the candy.. must have been due ot my deprived childhood. HAHA.