Flock Café

Those spur-of-the-moment meet ups with someone special.

We ambled in, unsure of what to expect, I myself a little doubtful of the humongous crowd and booming noise level. And yet, half of me ached to just try. Flock, like a bird. A dynamic freedom, a short escape. Sometimes, it doesn’t really matter where you are if you’re blessed with the best company.

After browsing around Books Actually, I needed at least a little fuel in the form of fare of little pretentious degree and biting caffeine (as usual. I’m scarily predictable. Maybe it’s just Saturdays). I relished the thought of just sitting down to some stimulating conversation, some heavy comfort. It was hot, dry and balmy outside, and the inside offered a hushed promise of something good. I also loved what was written on the walls:

Morning has broken

Mr. Coffee has spoken.

It really got the tune rolling in my head, that. It was even in swirly letters. I was quite happy, that’s a given.

Believe it or not, I manage to amuse myself sometimes. I mistook at least two young women to be the waitresses, and dropped my camera. I’m the best at subjecting myself and my poor companions to public humiliation. But about the waitresses, I can’t blame myself really. They all look the same, with identical giggles and smiles and ponytails. I swear on it.

Oh Lix, you tried. And the orders were still mixed up. Still. First, I wanted a cortado. I changed my mind and ordered an iced black, only to have an iced white salaam me soon afterwards. But it was alright. I got my black in the end. All is good with patience and forced smiles. Gosh, the things I do for something to hit the spot. Lix had an earl grey, which was warm and fragrant.

pork cheek and gruyère sandwich (hand shredded braised pork cheek, gruyère, mustard and ciabatta)

banana brioche french toast and crispy bacon

After a mid-lengthy wait, the sandwich came, then the french toast.

I was surprised by the texture of the pulled pork cheek, which was tender and rather juicy. The slathered mustard was mild and complementary, offering a sharp creaminess and savoury touch to the dish. Not luxurious enough to the point whereby you wouldn’t mind anointing yourself with it, but appealing nonetheless. Well it wasn’t my dish, but obviously I stole a bite. I’m not all that doggerel in nature, you know. We are all dignified human beings. I didn’t have enough of it to criticise it fully, because eating that whole thing would be more of a journey than a brief side throw comment. I do appreciate the words ‘hand-shredded’, though. Fitting in some elbow grease is always a good thing. Like kneading bread. You just can’t turn that sort of thing down.

My french toast demanded a long wait, but goodness, when that primed platter finally arrived, I knew I was in for some herculean effort. A maple syrup-drenched (not coated) obstacle course, laden with crisp slivers of bacon and soft banana. More effort should have gone into something like bruleeing those yellow slivers instead of drowning the crisp, fried mass in a litre of syrup. At first glance, it looks decent, almost prim, but get a little closer and you spot the shrinking pool of maple pulling in at the edges, every square inch dying to be soaked up by the ever-benevelont brioche, those airy, moist and dangerously buttery inch-thick brick slabs. I thoroughly enjoyed the texture of the brioche. The outside gleamed with a fresh seal of heat, and as my fork broke through a mildly soggy (thanks to you know what) crust, a little whisper of steam escaped from a white-yellow interior. Dense enough for me to wham some bacon and banana against its belly, light enough to be pleasurable on the tongue. However, it was all too much after a while, and I had to stop and gulp down more icy coffee to balance the heady sweetness. Small qualms. Otherwise, the coffee was decent and the fare, satiating. If I do warrant another visit, I might crack down on some eggs.

But once again, thank goodness for the best company. To say I was duly satisfied would be…

A tad bit of an understatement.

Rating: 4.0/ 5

Flock Café

78 Moh Guan Terrace (Tiong Bahru)

Posted on August 31, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 2

Basilico

‘Hey girls, guess what. You get a treat from me. Your mother. And you know what, we’re going to go have a lovely dinner tonight. Preferably without breaking the bank, yes?’

My mother’s honest words. We were considering all the decent, cheap options around town, when she herself suggested Basilico. Isn’t that quite expensive, I murmured. Not like I’ve ever been there, but ‘Basilico’ was clearly a more-posh-than-average Italian name with slight snake-related connotations. Or serpent or amphibian. Oh hell, it was an excuse to wear my Calvin Klein leather-topped sleeveless mini dress anyway. And so we headed for the Regent Hotel, aka the golden-knobbed house my country can show off to tourists. I was excited. We all were (I think).

On a Saturday night, we were offered the choice of an antipasti and dessert buffet plus the choice of one main course from their a la carte menu. I couldn’t complain. Good God, it’s expensive, I thought, when the waiter said the buffet alone was a pocket-burner ($65, to be exact). Still. The rose-tinted, rustic yet sophisticated aura and scents made me dizzy with glee. I had to take it in slowly. Buffet and course choice it was. Saturday nights make me more adventurous and willing, I should think. I remained quite politic as I walked around the spread, eyeing the fresh fruit, cheese and wine. I must’ve stumbled on something from the dazzling aesthetics alone. I ended up with a plate of cold and crunchy asparagus salad, smoked salmon and caviar, eggplant, provocative vine tomatoes, a little mozzarella and mussel salad. Most things were pleasantly chilled, and the flavours of creamy mozzarella and exploding tomatoes savagely invaded my palate, in the best way possible. The eggplant could have done with a touch more salt, and some empty mussel shells were sandy.

Behold the kids pizza funghi.

Yes you heard that right. Kids. I was frightened by the monstrous slab which lay in front of my 6-year old sister. It was the fastest to come, and the most gargantuan. It was an animal, bigger than the slight consumer herself. ‘We’ll help’ , the rest of us announced, to compensate for the silent shock. The edges were thick, flour-crusted and fluffy, the body laden with a great deal of stringy cheese and clumps of nice and innocent Champignon slivers. The marinara base was appropriate in both taste and amount in proportion to the rest of the pizza, though the Champignons could have used more seasoning. That aside, I enjoyed the texture of the whole thing, the entirety of a single bite, even if I was just picking at bits on her plate. I’m a disgraceful, disgraceful picker.

grilled queen scallops with mushy peas, roasted tomatoes and chanterelles

Scallops for my main course. Six mini ones, at that. Branded with a beautiful sear on both sides, squished together with some brilliant, sweet mushy peas and a heavy drizzle of olive oil. The peas put me in heaven, and I could have had those alone. I willingly smashed them into the charred sides of scallop and warm burst of tomato juice, alongside the fruity, forest-flavoured chanterelles. What a great melding of juxtaposed flavours. The scallops, albeit juicy little things, weren’t sweet enough for my taste. Good, just not great.

I appreciate the textural effort put into all the dishes served. My other sister had the spaghetti with marinara sauce, which was perfectly al dente, and my mother had the sea bass. The knife cuts were smooth, the delicacy enticing. The fish itself I did not find sufficiently flavourful, but the aroma and presentation almost fully made up for that.

I’m re-unearthing the wonders of honest Italian food. But if you wish to come here, be prepared for a wait. Especially if you’re ordering anything other than pizza on the menu. Just. Small warnings.

Rating: 4.3/5

Basilico Italian Restaurant
1 Cuscaden Road
Singapore 249715
Tel: +65 6725 3232

Posted on August 24, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Chewy chocolate chip cookies

Ah. What a beautiful science.

I’d like to dedicate this recipe to my puppy Celeste!

I’m quite picky whenever it comes to things like cookies or pastries. If it’s not mind-blowingly good, I probably won’t take a second bite. I’m horrible and snooty like that, and it’s one part of myself which is quite hard to change (tragedies). These were an absolute breeze to bake, firstly because the aesthetics of the whole method was ridiculously enticing, and secondly because you don’t need any schmancy kitchen equipment. Double whammy dear.

As you can see, these still have a bit of lift to them, but they did sink after a while as the ones shown were still warm from the oven’s belly.

Key points:

-Use crumbling, DARK brown sugar with a high percentage of molasses.

-Don’t use just baking powder; either use both powder and soda or just soda on its own. The ones here were made with just baking soda, but I think I’ll use a little of both the next time, for extra chewiness.

– If you have shortening and use it instead of butter, add extra salt to help give the flavour a boost.

– Watch those cookies. Any extra time and they’ll lose that golden density and chewiness. Once you observe a slight brown edge and almost-set middle, take them out. In this recipe, it takes about 15 minutes, for extra, extra large cookies. So if you’re looking for bite-sized ones, 8 minutes or so should do it. Then again, it all depends on the surrounding temperature and that of your oven. Did I mention this is a beautiful science.

Monster-large, with a ridged top. I think a little undercooked in the centre is just fine, yes?

RECIPE

– 2 cups all purpose flour

– 1/2 teaspoon baking soda

– 3/4 teaspoon salt

– 3/4 cup (171g) melted, unsalted butter

– 1 cup packed, dark brown sugar

– 1/3 cup white sugar

– 1 1/2 tablespoons vanilla extract

– 1 large egg and 1 egg yolk

– 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or chopped up 70% cocoa chocolate bars)

DIRECTIONS

Preheat the oven to 165 degrees C (325 degrees F). Line three cookie sheets with parchment paper or grease them (if you don’t have three just use two first, then replace after the first batch).
Whisk together the flour, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl.
In another medium bowl, cream together the melted butter, brown sugar and white sugar until well blended, or just use a wooden spoon. Beat in the vanilla, egg, and egg yolk until light and creamy.
Mix in the flour mixture until just combined. Stir in the chocolate chips using a wooden spoon. Drop cookie dough using a heaping tablespoon measure OR a quarter cup measurement at a time onto the cookie sheets. They should be about 3 inches apart. Yes. They’ll be huge. The batter will also be very soft and lightly sticky, especially if you live in the same damned sun-stricken place as me!
Bake for 15 minutes, or until the edges are lightly toasted and have a medium brown hue. Cool on baking sheets on a wire rack completely before removing.

Posted on August 14, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

Symmetry

And funnily enough, this isn’t another one of my odd rambles (possibilities include facial symmetry, the symmetry of life and all it encompasses, how everything typically goes off the bend. Anyways.)

My camera received more than a few evil glares from unknowing passers-by.

I’ve read reviews on this place countless times and decided it was finally time to give this supposedly indie nook a go. ‘Hipster’, they called it. What could I lose, I said to myself, as I drew myself out of the bustling Orchard grounds. Eggs eggs eggs, my stomach chanted.

Portobello Benedict, with cheddar, hollandaise, hash and portobello duxelle

If I can take one word away from that experience this morning, it would be squashed. The first thing I saw, before the barista, before the lavish plates of eggy dishes, were human beings. All sorts, packing the little area to the brim. There, the ponytailed waitress pointed. I faced about 5 inches of wood; a skinny rectangular slab. I didn’t care, though. The seat was heavy but adorable, and my lashes fluttered at the menu. I always order some form of poached eggs at cafes because too, too many places serve rather mediocre or pathetic blobs of ivory, bursting with what? Usually not a golden river to set your heart aflame.

Portobello Benedict it was.

Took my breath away. Well oiled, plump ovals. Babies. The gentle prod of my fork unleashed an angry, tender flow. It energetically filled the crisp holes in the toasted, buttery English muffin, swamping a melting tang of cheddar. Complimented so perfectly with a hearty dose of duxelle, which is basically minced portobello and garlic. The cheese and hollandaise was the savoury cake’s icing, thin and slightly crusty around the edges. My palette was overwhelmed, but my heart was quite grateful. At $22, this is no cheap sacrifice, but every bite was absolutely worth it. Even the hash was beautifully crisp and golden, without being mushy in the centre.

That’s it. I’m trying the sur le pat, pain perdu and duck egg next time I come.

Rating: 4.8/5

Symmetry Cafe

9 Jalan Kubor

Posted on August 10, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

Fat Cow

That’s the thing about personalised invitation cards. The epitome of real effort. My grandfather is still cool enough to do this sort of thing, even if, you know, he doesn’t quite know the name of the young woman beside me. Or such an example is common enough. You can’t expect the elderly to be superhuman too. Oh, but I do love him so. Charming and comely old man. Singapore’s No. 1 bowler back in the day, and with such a flying passion!

Anyways, no, this isn’t a Heston Blumenthal clone, or any cuisine of the sort. Japanese-inspired steakhouse right here.

Japanese leek with ponzu jelly and sesame dressing

That salad was a crisp concoction made by the Tangy Japanese Gods.

I was pretty scared to touch the carpaccio, which looked about 0.001mm thin and as delicate as my dad’s hairline. But I did anyway. It was still frightening on the tongue, as it close to evaporated once it hit the buds. Moist, a little bland, but the truffle made it boom with musk and sophistication.

The fried zucchini flower was a light break during the rage of courses that night. The batter was airy but separated a little too easily from the flower, and its thickness merged with the flower made it seem almost incongruous. But a joy all the same.

It’s easy to talk about meat, but the steamboat here was magical. Each chopstick slip of the red, raw stuff was a ticket to the most tender slivers of melt-on-your-tongue premium beef. Boiled in a soup which starts off tasteless but ends off sweet, reduced and wondrous. I can almost feel the bubbles tickling my throat. Dip it in the pastel orange-clad shabu shabu sauce, maybe a little more in the soup, add a hint of rice and off you go and enter another mental state altogether.

Repeat.

Porridge. I saw it on the menu and passed it as some filler idea. But then again, if it’s on this menu, it’s got to good, right?

Right. And I was. No really I swear. It’s the best savoury porridge you will try in your lifetime. There’s writing your will and then there’s coming here to have just one bowl of this. As they say here, it truly is shiok. Nourishing, warm, glutinous. The consistency of a wilted lemon curd, with soft, popping granules throughout, and healthy dollops of tender mushroom, shallots, garlic and chives. I need to stop here because my mouth is watering. Also, because I’m rather angry at myself for having the smallest stomach in the world, so by this time during the meal I could finish a paltry fraction of that small bowl.

I don’t like mochi on its own, but the little translucent cuboids here were paired with a sticky, gooey gula melaka to reinforce its glutinous texture. The matcha and peanut dippings helped a fair bit, too. My favourite was that yuzu, which reminded me of white angels for some reason. I receive strange and non-sequitur connections whenever I’m faced with beautiful or delicious plates of food.

Rating: 4.8/5

Fat Cow

1 Orchard Boulevard #01-01/02

Camden Medical Centre

6735 0308

Posted on July 31, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

alexcrumb

recipes, catering, creativity

alexcrumb

Tag: miscellaneous

Flock Café

Basilico

Chewy chocolate chip cookies

Symmetry

Fat Cow