[ New Café – Solid gelato at XM Studio’s Gelato and Coffee Bar ] Had the opportunity to visit a certain someone’s friend’s new gallery-office-café space at Kitchener Complex mid-week during their grand opening! Big congrats!! (Where was this café when I was looking for places to chill pre-D&D 🥲)
If you’re a fan of figurines and collectibles like me, you’ve likely already ogled at their intricate statues and figurines at toys/hobby conventions over the years. The best bit? XM is homegrown! How’s that for inspiration?
Since I consider myself a casual hobbyist at best when it comes to comics/TTRPGs/adjacenthobbiesandthelikes, I’ll hold my opinions – just swipe past the food for some of my fav pieces in their gallery! (Yes, it’s open to the public so feel free to visit!)
What I do consider myself more a snob of, is food. When I was sold – multiples times, mind you! – that this new café spot will be serving some mean gelatos, a certain someone and I hauled our behinds over after sweating it out at the Gardens By The Bay for some much needed reprieve.
And oh boy, they delivered.
I’m quite forgiving when it comes to ice creams/gelatos and the likes, but it’s fairly difficult to please me beyond mild satisfaction. So when my face lit up after rolling the velveteen texture of my pistachio gelato around my mouth – one of their two non-dairy options – we knew we had something special, literally, in our hands.
Pistachio can either be a breathtaking or an exhausting flavour. It either coils at the back of your mouth with the scent of smoky roast, tugged by the melting flavour of nuts upon your tongue, or it languishes in dull bitterness against the walls of your mouth, like an indelible acrid aftertaste.
No prizes for guessing which one this falls under.
Their scoops can be yours at three different price points: $6 for their classic batches, $7 for their premium, and $8 for that sweet, exclusive selection.
We sat nursing our drinks – my coffee was a lil bland, but his roasted green tea was a delight – as the rain pattered outside, watching XM staff meander through the spacious area, and making plans for which gelato to try when we return.
[ Food Review – Vday at Kong! Ft. new menu items! ] Our fav café having a debut V-day menu + burgeoning cases = guess how we spent our V-day dinner! Added perk: No traffic woes you can easily walk over!
(And yes, Kong was open at night – until 10pm, no less! – to commemorate the occasion!)
The menu of the night was a 3-course set ($48.80) that included options for appetiser, main, and desserts, accompanied by drinks. Which was a very nice surprise since many larger places don’t even offer that level of customisability!
Our choices for the night were the Platter of Mandoo & House-made Kimaree for sides, Army Stew for our main, Brownie w. Vanilla Icecream for sweets, and 2 shots of Peach Soju to whet our (his) appetites. (Spoiler: We ended up ordering extras just because we didn’t want the meal to end, oops!)
As much as a certain someone and I love the Rarabokyi, the Army Stew was just what we needed after a day of rain. Unlike places that create the illusion of depth with chives, onions and cabbage, Kong’s stew was brimming with pockets of spam, hotdogs, tofu, and tteokbokki; it even had dumplings and shrooms inside! Better yet, the broth isn’t made with beef stock, so friends with dietary restrictions, Kong’s gotchu!
Normally, the Army Stew would’ve been an easy winner, but my goodness, the Kimaree was a thing of beauty. Made from wrapping glass noodles in seaweed before deep frying them, every bite was an addictive tug-of-war between the crackle and pop of the seaweed and the slick sweetness of the noodles. We had to get a second plate. Had. To.
The last item of note turned out to be the crème brûlée that I’d initially skipped over because I was uncharacteristically craving chocolate! A certain someone decimated it in literal seconds after I snuck off with the sugar layer; the cream wasn’t too sweet, and the sugar was evenly, and more importantly, sufficiently burnt for that honeyed goodness.
Add on the relaxed vibes, pleasant crowd, a very enthused Hanna personally serving tables, and a little too much soju for him and sugar for me, we now have another memorable V-day in our pockets!
Deciding to be fancier this year, we had two meals to celebrate V-day! For this meal, we were searching for a place that offers a curated culinary experience and an Arcadian ambience away from the crowd. And that’s how we found our way to Tamarind Hill.
Nestled on a hill amongst the greenery of Labrador Nature Reserve, walking around the premises felt like a bit of an adventure in itself. Flanked by its sister hotel, Villa Samadhi, private walking trails meander between the trees; if we’d been there closer to early evening, it would have been perfect for a stroll. However, the terrain is not kind to those of us who live in heels – I wore my lowest pair and my toes were still crying.
The restaurant is housed in a colonial bungalow, with décor drawing modern parallels to shapes and materials in vogue of that era. There are no stuffy suits for the staff here – instead, you can find everyone skilfully balancing gigantic trays with fragrant dishes perched precariously atop in flip flops and boxy pants inspired by fisherfolk of the region.
Its extensive menu features creations from its Thai and Burmese halves, including heirloom dishes kindly offered up by their chefs. Despite our initial impression of stifling prices and stiff portions, we found the prices fair, and portions incredibly generous. (When ordering, you’re advised to stick to ~3 dishes/2 pax lest you be overwhelmed. Heed it.)
Missing Thai food, our dinner of the day consisted of some of my personal favs. To whet our appetites, the Clear Tom Yum ($34) and Thai-Styled Fish Cakes ($18). To fill us up, the Deep-Fried Ocean Farmed Barramundi Fillet ($42) and the Quick Wok Sautéed Assorted Mushrooms ($18). And finally, before we said goodbye, Steamed Tapioca ($6).
It is hard to pick a fav for the night – the soup had a cornucopia of seafood and shrooms; the fishcakes were filled with actual fish and not fillers; the barramundi was sweet yet savoury, soft yet firm; bursts of spices danced amidst the earthiness of the shrooms. If the flavours were turned up a notch to mirror those back in Thailand, it would be near perfect.
[ Food Review – Fishop: From Marketplace to Table ] For the past couple of weeks, a certain someone and I have been excitedly eyeing this pretty large, soon-to-be-opened unit within Link@896. Besides having a – fresh and frozen – seafood selection, there is a dine-in area that does fish & chips, fish burgers, and… tze char-styled fishes?
While we were intrigued by the concept, we wondered how a limited sized kitchen and staff count could pull of that variety. But once we noticed the bass (geddit) bit – dining in a semi-restaurant whilst shelling out near-marketplace prices – we were set on trying it.
Fast forward to our visit, during which we decided to sample a bit of everything!
To start, we had a tasting plate of their salmon sashimi ($6.50/4pc) and the only cut of tuna I can stand, chuutoro ($9.50/4pc). For the price, I’m really not going to nitpick – the salmon was fresh, sweet and smooth (wish we’d gotten more); the chuutoro was a little too close to bone for my liking, but was defo fresher than I’d expected for the price.
The next item was more exciting – otah omelette ($5 for otah; $8 for cooking). An off-menu item suggested by the owner, who ordered the same item for his dinner, the otah had good body, and the omelette had good texture without being too oily. My only gripe? Wish the otah had a bit more flavour!
Our star of the night was the canto-styled hybrid grouper ($25 for the fish + $10 cooking)! A pretty hefty fish for two, this comes in significantly cheaper than most tze char places, let alone restaurants! Since we get to pick our fish from their live batch, we got to enjoy its natural sweetness and smoothness. While the sauce was pretty standard, the fish was still cooked decently. And honestly, the luxury of being able to enjoy a fresh catch at this price point really negated everything else!
A last min order, the English Fish Cake ($16) was larger than expected, and a surprise hit of the meal! Good golden crust, smooth fish filling, and punctuated with pops of potato – perfect for livening up any table. Likewise, just wish this had a little more flavour so we didn’t need to rely on the sauce!
And yes, whelk defo be going back!
[ Food Review – When better to have Indian cuisine than during CNY? ] Since yours truly isn’t celebrating the festive season this year, we got to be a little more flexible with our food choices. As much as I adore Chinese food, having a whopping 6 reservations at Asia Grand before the holidays was taking a bit of a toll.
Since we wanted something fairly casual but didn’t want to contend with the heat, we ended up at Karu’s Indian Banana Leaf Restaurant. (If they sound familiar, they used to be one of my fam’s staple to-go places, and I’ve covered them multiple times prior!)
Managing to get into the queue before peak dinner hour, our wait time was only around ten mins. Which was a relief because as soon as we were seated, the queue grew to a half-hour wait, meaning that already sparse parking was just non-existent, yikes.
Dining at Karu’s means that regardless of your order, you will be served with free flow rice, papadam (dangerous, I know), curry sauce (chicken/fish), and two veg (this round’s was cabbage and pumpkin). So even if you’re fine with a small protein, you can still easily eat your fill with their “complimentary” options!
The one dish my fam always needs to get here is their Curry Fish Head ($28/$38/$41). A long-time signature, their fish head curry takes inspiration from the dish’s origins – here’s a fun fact: it’s a dish invented in SG, brought over by a Keralan! – and thus retains a thinner, tangier sauce. The fish is always fresh, and they actually serve you both sides of the head! (I never knew some places only serve half?!)
Typically, a small would be fine for two, but if you’ve ravenous dining companions, skip the medium and go for the large. You’re welcome!
To supplement our main, we ordered a serving of Chicken 65 ($7/$12/$14), and finally decided to try their Prawn Masala ($8.50/pc)!
Not a fan of C65 in general, but I appreciated how theirs wasn’t lathered in thick batter, and had a nice mix of spices to alleviate and elevate the fry. The tiger prawns were pretty good too – for their size alone, I’d give them the green light despite the prawns not being the freshest; but add on the hearty, rich masala, the dish really shines!
Feeling a little nostalgic, guess who joined her dad at Sixth Avenue for some nasi lemak!
Hoping to replicate my taste memories, I was disappointed to find out that due to the prolonged pandemic, Sixth Ave Nasi Lemak has significantly shrunk their Ă la carte selection, choosing to subsist on the usual nasi lemak set staples alongside other noodle dishes like mee soto, mee siam, and mee rebus.
I ended up settling – I know – for a normal set with two extra fishes while my dad ordered his usual bowl of mee siam. Here is normally where I tell you how much everything costs, except that because I’ve never actually ordered food from SANL myself before, I have no idea how much anything costs. The ballpark if memory serves is around $4-$5 for their standard nasi lemak set without additions, with extra charge for more sambal.
While I wished I had the presence of either their sambal cuttlefish – thick, luscious cuts that my mum and I would get extra servings of – or sayur lodeh as a reprieve from all the dry ingredients, the nasi lemak is still really good.
The basmati rice was misty with the scent of coconut, making it even sweet when rolled with their signature sambal. Perfectly built to cut the richness of their protein. The fishes are bigger and fleshier than most places, and seared just enough to bring forth their natural flavour and to create texture. And their ikan bilis is just magical in their crackle. Even their chicken wing – which I normally skip – had a beautifully crisp skin and juicy interior, neither marred by the overwhelming stain of oil.
Always a treat when your childhood food heroes live up to your taste memories!
[ Food Review — Amazing bday dinner! ] After resigning to the misfortune that is having two significant birthdays in a row thwarted by totally-not-lockdowns, I definitely not sulkily told a certain someone to surprise me for dinner instead.
And oh boy did he deliver!
Say hello to $300 worth of sashimi/sushi from Morinaga Izayaka Restaurant. Holy. Snap. (Thank you for spoiling me!!)
I normally don’t bother listing price tags because 1) I don’t remember them, and 2) unless the price is notable, I don’t really see a need to include them. But yesterday’s dinner was worthy of a mention because holy snap, it’s SUPER worth for all the fresh and gorgeous cuts we got. (Can anyone say tons of quality ootoro/chuutoro/wagyu/hotate??) And hey, this is a pretty darn good substitute for my birthday omakase that got cancelled!
What you’re looking at is MIR’s takeaway-only Temaki Sushi Family Set for $250+ (meant for 4-6, but we outdid ourselves with a table of 3, heh) + Bluefin Tuna Toro & 4 kinds of fresh sashimi for $38+ (discounted from usual price of $58) + a starter of Chicken Soft Bone ($6+).
(Pst, if you like alcohol, they’re doing big discounts on takeaways for those too ;D)
Due to a small confusion, we received the nori and 2 sets of rice later. But all’s good because we made deconstructed sushi-bazhang which allowed me to eat more sashimi anyway! To make up for this hiccup, Ito-san from Morinaga Izakaya called us personally — we didn’t even realise the mistake in our food-induced stupor — and got a Grab driver to deliver the missing items over. How's that for service recovery?
Here’s a taste of what the restaurant is like: Nestled in the basement of Midpoint Orchard, Morinaga Izakaya is a homely hole in the wall that evokes the feeling of taverns in Tokyo and Osaka. They serve reasonable bento in the day — charmingly called 'Japanese Economical Rice' — and their few tables are popular with those who appreciate spirits and sakes with their sushi and sashimi after nightfall.
(If you do end up visiting: Just like any izakaya, ordering alcoholic drinks helps with their margin, given the affordable nature of their dishes and fare! Don’t be shy; drink up!)
[ Food Week — Heritage Restaurants ] Prior to discovering heritage restaurants, I still stubbornly believed all food was somehow a close relative of, or at adjacent to Cantonese dishes. That was in part the prevalence of international HK chains, but also a product of my family’s eating habits.
Thus when a certain someone’s family brought me to Ming Chung, not only was I intimidated by the familiar yet foreign dishes (white lor mee, what is this sorcery!), I was as to whether I could adapt to the flavours.
When we arrived at MC, and we ended up loitering amidst stray wind and rain waiting for a table. Despite the unrelenting weather and crowd, I wasn’t too agitated; perhaps it was the brisk yet warm service, the strangely familiar scents, or the relaxed familial chatter of the restaurant that set me at ease.
Plastered on the far wall was the history of the place: MC is one of the few restaurants that specialise in Henghua cuisine — food from Putien in the Fujiian province that shares some hallmarks of Hokkien and Fuzhou food. However, since Putien is coastal, much of their cuisine draws from the sea — instead of the heavy flavours typical of traditional Hokkien fare, these items offer a more transient, but no less potent taste of the sea.
I’ve never been the biggest fan of Hokkien food for how dense and rich it is, but I found myself much more partial towards Henghua cuisine instead. Their mains tend to bloom with the brightness of fresh greens, tempered with the sweet brine of shellfishes.
For fellow newcomers, a good way to ease your way into the cuisine is through their signature white lor me: Also known as rickshaw noodles, instead of the thick, dark sauce of traditional lor me, you’re instead met with thick wheat noodles encircling a much more delicate potpourri of seafood, pork bits, fried beancurd skin, yam, and greens.
Another speciality of note is their fried batang fish! A product created by the convergence of Southern China and Southeast Asian gastronomical routes, the impeccable heat control and thin slices help keep the external layer taut and dry whilst retaining a moist and tender interior — a balanced symmetry between harmonious dichotomies.
[ Food Week — Heritage Restaurants ] Over these couple of years, I’ve been surprised time and time again by how different similar dishes can be when recreated by different dialect groups. And after tasting the variants, I’ve become even firmer a believer that we’ve to preserve these individual threads of heritage lest they become products of distant memory.
One of the dishes I tend to associate with the wrong dialect group is the quintessential fish (head) steamboat. It became one of my fav comfort foods as I was growing up, and whenever there were any signs of impending rain, I’d strongar-, suggest we get it for dinner.
So imagine my surprise when a certain someone’s fam decided to bring me to have fish head charcoal steamboat… in one of their fav Hainanese heritage restaurants, Jin Wee!
Located in Siglap in the unit next to the area’s Wine Connection stall (pst, you can cross-order from JW to there and vice versa btw!), as a testament to its reputation, meal times are characterised by extending to the far edge of its territory. Even then, you can still find hordes of eager patrons — families, couples, and friends alike — perched at its perimeter hawking for seats in eager anticipation.
As someone who never really had Hainanese food I was astounded by the restaurant’s popularity.
Oh, and they’ve these huge porcelain pots that sit amidst diners in the alfresco area as well. Housing both soups and pots of their renowned Jiao Hua Chicken, it’s very worth the order if you’ve the stomach space for it.
We ended up with an order of their Red Grouper Charcoal Steamboat, Hai Nan Pork Chop, Claypot Chicken, and Chap Chye.
The pork chops were as delightful as I’d expected them to be — the crunch they boasted under all the sauce would give even a good Korean fried chicken a run for its money! The fish steamboat had me ladling bowl after bowl because of how flavourful it was (defo on par, if not more, than the Teochew ver). The main difference was a subtle simmer of sweetness and the slightly thicker, almost milky texture courtesy of the sheer amount of yam present. The other two dishes were fab too: The veg was fresh and crisp, and the chicken was smooth and tender!
[ Food Week — Heritage Restaurants ] Some of you may already be familiar with Red Star — either from their extensive history as one of Singapore oldest and more premiere heritage restaurants, or during the recent news coverage of heritage restaurants struggling during this pandemic.
I'm quite a newcomer to the heritage restaurant scene. Prior to that, I'd no problems subsisting only on fine dining Chinese establishments — because the spread, food, and service were good, we never saw a need to eat elsewhere.
Ngl, when I was first made aware of this stratum of F&B restaurants, I was quite confused. Looking like a movie set straight out of 1970-80s HK, and boasting staff that are equally at home in the environment (finished with pushcarts and lippy service), I was confounded RS could still thrive amidst aggressive modernisation.
But once the food arrived and we settled in, everything fell into place.
The charm of RS lies in both its traditional-styled Hong Kong dishes — especially their dim sum, which you can still procure from pushcarts touted by seasoned wait stuff — and its ability to transport you to a time before your own; to a space where the pace of life was a tad slower, and the colours of one’s historical heritage was that much more brilliant.
Some may call it a gimmick — the entire experience isn’t the cheapest, with the average cost of our plates hovering around $4.50 — but during my visit, I found a raw authenticity in the unfettered adherence to tradition that transcends even today. Despite its founders being less involved due to age — RS is founded by 2 of the 4 Heavenly Kings of Canto Cuisines in SG, and used to be THE spot for HK film stars! — you can still taste the hallmarks of their influence (see the unabashed pizzazz, usually in the form of an abundance of shrimp in every dish; no complaints here!).
And there’s a wistful nostalgia when I see the staff go about their routine in effortless synchronicity, honed by decades of practice.
I still believe there is a place for food like RS’ in today’s SG: We just need to be reminded of their presence, and perhaps not be as dismissive of the less glamourous aspects of our food culture.
[ Food Week — Heritage Restaurants ] Singapore’s vibrant F&B scene cannot exist without the multiplicity of establishments that cater a variety of gastronomical experiences. Be it sinful local delights, elegant fine dining, or reliable international chains — these seemingly disparate segments form a cohesive, spirited whole that we have grown to love, but also take for granted.
As we extol the zeal and vigour of SG’s F&B, one group continues to be overshadowed by the accessibility of hawkers and the convenience of large chains: Heritage restaurants. (I’m guilty of this too — until the recent couple of years, I don’t think I’ve ever set foot in any of these.)
Mostly born during a period of entrepreneurial exuberance and during the cusp of burgeoning globalisation, these heritage restaurants are often a product of coupling the history of one’s rich cultural roots with SG’s unique brand of multiculturalism. The result is flavours that are reminiscent of an era long past, yet still familiar enough to evoke a sense of home, especially for those whose own history and heritage intersects these restaurants’.
And for many of us, these places stand as one of the last remaining pillars between a history we either have never known or aren’t privy to, and the sterile homogeneity of modernity.
It is this inimitable position of heritage restaurants that make them so valuable — they are living keystones of our history, and it’d be a shame to forsake them in favour of shiny new concepts that pander to aesthetics.
For those looking for their first foray into heritage restaurant, Beng Hiang (est 1978) is a friendly option for folks who enjoy old-school Hokkien dishes served with the boisterous flourish of 70-80s HK restaurants.
I’ve written about their dishes in detail prior, so here is a quick summary of what your first visit can look like:
Crispy Roasted Chicken ($20 for half/$38 for whole) — go away KFC, this is a must-get! No seriously, this puts everyone else to shame ok.
Traditional Hokkien Noodles ($10/$14/$18) — their signature; filled with goodies!
Oyster Omelette ($15/$28) — plump and juicy, yum!
For comparison, a meal like that will be a good 30-40% cheaper than at major chains. And you get larger portions too!
[ Food Week — Hawker Food ] As we approach the tail end of this season’s food week, it’s time to bring out some of my favourite local dishes that I rarely get the chance to feature, be it due to distance or calories (heh).
Believe it or not, there was a pretty extended period in my life when I subsisted on lor mee nearly every other day! Even though I don’t showcase it much, I adore the dish. Cue today’s feature: 137 Lor Mee Prawn Noodles at Tampines Round Market!
137LM is no exception. Opening at ripe hour of 6.30am, if you’re lucky, visiting at 10am m a y net you the last bowl before the stall starts wiping down for the day. Be warned! (All this being pre-P2 ofc; for now, please don’t forget to support your favourite stalls by taking away food looking at places like WhyQ to see if they offer delivery!)
I know many of us lor mee meisters have v e r y strong opinions on what constitutes a worthy bowl of lor mee. As someone whose opinion tend to skate along the edges of near blasphemy, let me get one thing straight: Lighter lor mee broth doesn’t mean less flavour!!! /deep exhale/
Growing up on lor mee with thinner/lighter sauces — specifically Clementi’s Ah Ma Lor Mee — I’ve never once felt the lack of a viscous, sticky broth detracted from the dish. As long as the chef knows how to balance their ingredients, they can still create a beautiful bowl no less worthy than its denser counterparts. After all, coherence and character are what build the unique signature of each stall.
137LM can be polarising for some: Those who enjoy heavy, substantial “lor” won’t get it here. The broth is lighter and easier to enjoy with your noodles; in spite of that, the aromatics and spices are unmistakeable, and when paired with the near ridiculous amount of toppings — fried fish chunks, ngoh hiang, fish cake, pork belly, egg — makes the entire experience a coherent yet vivid one. (Try imagining digging through stiff, sticky sauce trying to retrieve all those goodies, ugh — this is why the broth here is lighter.)
Oh, did I mention they have amazing crispy fish nuggets? Despite being drenched, these crispy pieces never wilt! And you get a ton of them regardless of serving size!
