It’s really interesting how our tastes change as we age. I don’t know if this shift in preferences is biological or experiential. Either way, it constantly surprises me when I discover myself craving something that just a decade ago, I…
When Chef Julien Royer recently departed from JAAN, the restaurant at the top floor of Raffles City, a lot of foodie friends started to prematurely cross this eatery off their lists of great gourmet places in Singapore. The funny thing…
If you’ve met any of our nation’s foodies in the last two weeks, the question on everyone’s lips is: have you been to Bread Street Kitchen? Gordon Ramsay’s buzzy London eatery made its Singapore debut at—where else—Marina Bay Sands, with…
When I’m skimming through a dessert menu contemplating what to have, the words that make me stop browsing and come to an immediate decision are “sticky date pudding”. I see those three magic words and I’m done. I close the menu, order and impatiently wait to indulge in my dessert. It doesn’t help that my hubby is similarly, a sticky date pudding fanatic. This basically means we have plowed through a significant number of sticky puds together, and unfortunately, only a third of them were stellar, some were stodgy and hardly any good and startlingly, many fell downright flat. Recently, I stumbled upon a sticky date pudding recipe on Nigella’s site, and registered that it’s actually a really easy dessert to make! I tucked that thought at the back of my head, and a few days later, found a bag of dates in the pantry. You can all guess what happened next.
Oscar Wilde once said, “The man who can dominate a London dinner-table can dominate the world”. I reckon the same goes for brunches. After all, many famous people are known to have been late risers – for instance, Hitler was known to conduct very important meetings from his tub as he took his late morning bath… Ok, bad example. Moving on.
One of the restaurants that people keep asking me if I’ve tried is Jamie’s Italian. Ever since Jamie Oliver opened his eponymous casual Italian eatery here in Singapore, there’s been an almost non-stop buzz surrounding it. The fact that most customers have to wait in line (for often over an hour) — only a tiny fraction of tables are available for reservations (online) and I’ve been told that the next available table is in 3 months — has obviously helped to build the hype. Well, last week (and thanks to a buddy who was able to score me a table), my wife S and I, plus two friends, were finally able to try this much-talked about restaurant.
To be honest, I had kind of avoided Chopsuey Cafe when it first opened. Early reviews by both press and bloggers weren’t entirely favorable. But, a few months ago, my sister-in-law J, who has impeccable taste, recommended that we go there for brunch. And I’m so glad she did. Since then, I’ve been back several times, each time becoming more and more enamored with this elegant yet oh-so-kitschy restaurant tucked away in a corner in Dempsey Hill. In the end, I’ve come to the conclusion that all of those critics who pooh-poohed this marvelous little Chinesey eatery, well, just simply didn’t get it.
For the longest time, chard was just something I’d only read about in cookbooks. It was one of those mythical vegetables that I knew of, but never felt was truly part of my culinary repertoire primarily because it wasn’t something I could easily pick up at the wet market or supermarket. In other words, it was a vegetable I could live without. That all changed when we recently received an organic Farm Box from SuperNature.
Experiencing The Ledbury in London is like taking a hike in the wild. For one, traveling there takes you out of Zone 1 and into raw Westbourne Park (or Notting Hill, depending on which line you’re taking), where the streets are mercifully quiet and the grass in the gardens of the low-rise housing developments is untrimmed. For another, the typically cheery London weather (read: rainy with biting winds) made my girlfriend K and I look like a pair of inept hipster hunter-gatherers after the brisk walk from the tube station to Ledbury Road. Then there was the food itself; each of the eight courses on our lunch tasting menu took us on a sojourn, past bubbling rivers, through pungent loam, into the very heart of some unnamed countryside.