Pumpkin Ginger-Spiced French Toast Roll-ups with Cinnamon Tahini Fondue


This cinnamon tahini fondue is very everything. When I woke up that morning, there was a funny pain at the base of my stomach, and that’s never a good thing, but I still knew my weekly french toast get-up was much needed, for better or for worse. There are times during the day, usually alone, with a bit of quiet, or during deep conversation with someone who’s on the same page as you, that one can calmly address all negative emotions, accept them, then pass them to the air.

Feeling wild writing this, yet calm. It’s my last day of being 19, and who knew a year could’ve changed me so much in all facets. Just a year ago I was on a boat with other freshmen pondering the excitement of living near Hyde Park, and now here I am, still alive, still a student, still eating the same plates of french toast. I am truly grateful for the close friends who stuck by me and who I can always count on, my family, and stuff to learn and discover every day. Now I find I need so much less to be happy– dining in the dark with an old friend, a fresh bath and timely wake, fresh roasted vegetables, the hug of tea in the cold, brisk air, working alone. Nope, nothing more.

Of course there was no more appropriate way to spend the morning than with my favourite breakfast. Opened the pantry and of course there was no bread. But. Found a fair bit of Lebanese flat bread given so kindly to me by a friend (Lavash I should think?), so I made do with that, and goodness was that good. Though it had gone a bit stale as I intended to make each pillowy bit of fragrance last as long as possible, dipping it in my pumpkin french toast batter and then frying it gave it a renewed warmth, tenderness, life.

I came up with the idea for this cinnamon tahini fondue whilst trying to think of something other than good old coconut almond butter for my porridge topping, and I know nothing comes quite as close as the stuff, but with a new pot of tahini, something had to be done, and tahini naked wouldn’t have been embracing that morning creative jolt It’s an uncomplicated mix of tahini, cinnamon, applesauce and yoghurt, along with some of the pumpkin french toast batter. The weirdness of that mix overshadows its majesty.


Pumpkin Ginger-Spiced French Toast Roll-ups with Cinnamon Tahini Fondue


1 large flatbread (lavash), tortilla or crepe (alternatively, use normal bread slices)


For the pumpkin french toast batter:

2 heaping tbsp pumpkin purée

50ml milk of choice (I always use almond)

1 tsp fresh grated ginger (or ground)

1 tbsp sweetener of choice (agave syrup/date syrup/honey/blackstrap molasses)

pinch of salt

pat of vegan butter (or normal butter) for the pan


For the cinnamon tahini fondue:

1 tsp pumpkin purée

3 tbsp tahini

a heavy hand (around 1 tsp) of ground cinnamon

1 tsp sweetener of choice (refer to choices above)



If using flatbread, tear so that the pillow punctured and you get two thin ‘slices’ per bit of bread. You can use any other bread, but for the rollup effect, make sure to roll them out pretty tin and flat so you can squish them into the rolled shape you want afterwards.

Whisk together the ingredients for the pumpkin french toast batter and heat your pan on medium heat. Add a pat of butter to the pan and wait to hear a sizzle. Once hot, dip your slices into the pumpkin batter for 5-6 seconds on each side (you don’t need much time if you’re using a crepe or flat bread because they are so thin), then place gently in pan. Wait 20 seconds or so to cook, then flip and wait another 10-15 seconds.

Mix together the ingredients for the cinnamon tahini fondue, and serve the hot french toast rollups with that, together with some berries, perhaps some whipped (vegan) cream and more sweetener of your choice.

Bedrock Bar and Grill


The best way to start. Soft, buttery garlic and butter on crusty pita. A melting pool of mush and oil.

I love my uncle, but perhaps I love his invention even more.

Why Bedrock? I asked my aunt. Something to do with the Flintstones, I remember her saying. So it had been a while since I consciously registered the details of Fred and Barney. My childhood…! Well, it was my grandma’s birthday celebration and we all know of her undying infatuation with the perfect, seasoned oysters here.

red wine-shallot mignonette

Just, inexplicable divine.

And then, this.

tomahawk steak with classic béarnaise, whisky wholegrain mustard (my personal favourite) and red wine sauce.

Well obviously, the king of all the dishes. This 400-day grain fed ensured the perfect amount of fat streaked through these lovely slivers of medium rare meat, seared soft wooden at the edges. The interior was gloriously juicy and not too rare.

‘Steak’ Diane- grilled portobello mushroom with Diane sauce and truffle fries.

Yes, that is a dear mushroom my friends, but oh, a mushroom made king. The bite of the mushroom lent a gamey robustness to the otherwise weaker nature of the humble fungus. Status- elevated. Taste- right on. I mean look at the thing; it could pass for a hunk of meat. Well I certainly mistook it for such. It wasn’t a triumph on its own, of course, the Diane bathed the ‘steak’ in a warm and melting, oniony cream, without masking the texture and fineness of the cap. All vegetarians, come hither.

bedrock mac n cheese

In many ways, the best and the richest. Cheesiest. Paint the insides of your mouth with the illustrious golden-and-white-cream-swirled mouthfuls, after taking in the perfect ‘crack’ of the spoon as it slides into the warm belly beneath minuscule crusty, shining peaks. I love the thin tubules instead of the blase curved macaroni. Fine and white, empty of ridges, softly calling.

fish and chips with tartar
bangers and mash

These two were the simple kids dishes. Homey, comforting, large in both heart and soul.

grilled ribs

As a final conclusion, the best ribs in the entire world.

Yes, they beat Tony Roma’s and Chilis’s (but hey, I love those too). Unbelievably well marinated. Tart, sweet, thick reduction and yes there’s marrow so if you’re like me and can’t just stop at the outer layers of tender brawn, then get right in and smother your face in that milky, half bloody pulp. Go on, I won’t watch.


Rating: 4.5/5

Bedrock Bar and Grill

96 Somerset Road, #01-05 Pan Pacific Serviced Suites

Au Petit Salut

It’s a French affair. Let’s pretend I’m saying this entire post in an amateur and incredibly annoying French accent. Just. Pretend.

My 16th birthday was approximately 3 weeks and 4 days ago, yet the memory of my Frenchie Penchie dinner at this dimly lit restaurant on Harding Road is still fresh in my head; a throbbing memory retracting images of glowing candles and brick and rich post-dinner sugar rushes and the colours burgundy and gold all round. Oh yes, and wads of cash slammed down on the bill collector after the happy feasting subsides.

My goodness there were quite a few hits and misses, though more of the former may I happily say. It was my first time after a long time, and so I prayed for my expectations not to override my vague memory of the dishes there. Crossed my fingers and hopped along the ride with an empty belly.

The most fantastic pan seared duck foie gras

I ordered this as an entree because I am infatuated with liver of any sort, so foie gras would be a natural choice to warm up and seduce the palate. Soft, not overly greasy, mildly robust and shamelessly rich. The tang of the balsamic reduction coated each tender bite and bathed it with a sharp contrast in flavour. Dark yet light, rich yet not overwhelming and overly glorified. Shall praise this dish till my death. Beautiful simplicity. I could have had just this and been duly satisfied.

Baked black cod, quinoa, mussels & chorizo, saffron aioli and crustacean froth

The purity of cod can never be mistaken or masked in a good dish. This would have been slightly monotone if the cod wasn’t accompanied by the quinoa, aioli and froth. They are all best friends; the pompous group which would almost outshine the sophisticated intellects in school. The quinoa is necessary to provide some differing texture, whilst the aioli was gorgeous and buttery on its own. A good cod is always a smidgen translucent, buttery and beautifully flaky, and this ticked all the right boxes (though more mild sweetness would have sent me straight to cod heaven).

Cuts like butter, looks like it too.

Tragically, dishes such as the polenta (my poor mother) suffered grainy dullness, looking like lonely cuboids thrust pretentiously on a plate.

We proceeded to dive straight into the Orange and Grand Marnier soufflé with chocolate truffle for dessert, as well as the choux buns filled with vanilla ice cream, warm chocolate sauce and slivered almonds. That souffle was the king and the buns, the queen. It’s a tragic picture I have photos of neither, but just imagine a bulging, hole-bitten souffle and gorgeous choux buns drizzled in molten chocolate. Absolutely nothing is complete without ice cream. Nothing nothing nothing.

The finale went along as such:


The best cheesecake in Singapore, if one is willing to indulge in the richest, cheesiest splendor around. Dense, heavy, strong, proud.

No denying the genuine chocolate flavour swirled within as well. There’s the plastic, overly sweet sort you’d get on an unfortunate occasion, and then there’s… This. Perfect cheesy ridges and crisp crust. Shards of chocolate and glossy glaze. Oh.

Just looking at that slice now… ugh I just can’t.

That concludes my one night stand with this restaurant. They also like to shimmy seemingly knowledgable blond French people around. perhaps to show just how French they are. But a huge thumbs up to the comforting auburn ambience during the soft night, lit by a sad moon.

Rating: 3.7/5

Au Petit Salut

40C Harding Road

6475 1976