The addicting smokiness and caramelised stickiness that envelope the whole slab is a true testament to finger licking good – ok lah, I half-used fork and knife. The meat is grilled to just the right doneness that it remains firm and only falls off the bone when you pry into it. The soft bones...yaas! Anyway, bonus caption, here are three little anecdotes about our night out: firstly, three of us, myself included, ran across the street in the most unglamorous fashion to get cream puffs, left them there in the shop to keep chilled, reminded ourselves not to forget to pick them up after dinner, and we almost did, ran across unglamorously again; secondly, all six of us started talking in the restaurant, ran our mouths — from prostitution on the streets of Amsterdam to drugs and all — and just remained oblivious to the (Singaporean, we think) family seated next to us...we didn't really care lah since they held hostage to the menus for so long and remained oblivious (at first) when we asked for it among ourselves; and lastly, one of us is really good at foosball while another totally CMI. Ok, that's all.