Strangers’ Reunion

So I couldn’t find the door. The large glass door which lead directly to the light wood enclave so appropriately named Strangers’ Reunion. Let… Let me tell you a short story. I leave my house, take the bus to Tiong Bahru, get lost, hail a cab. Typical, normal, I would say. Nothing not very Alex-like. But I think the embarrassment peaked when I found myself floundering about like a complete and utter idiot even when I reached the shophouse. The words were clear, right there in front of me, I even saw my two cute and nice and short friends Celeste and Liz (probably laughing at my incapability as a human being) sitting in the corner. Not finding the door is just not acceptable. The whole time I was there I felt like lashing out at all the sensible people who were capable of opening the right door at the first try. Ha, they’ve probably been here before anyway.

You come in and the first thing which greets you is a jovial crowd, some bespectacled bohemians quietly, nonchalantly sipping away at their flat whites (or the more sophisticated with their espressos) behind the mysterious screens of their macs. Small tables aligned along the sides, all rather close to one another, all wooden and shiny, plastered with the faint drone of orange light. I? I was an SR virgin. I’ve seen pictures and things of course, all of crisp 6-inch wide browned buttermilk waffles with lashings of beautiful toppings accompanied by even more beautiful cups of coffee. We were already past the lunchtime-nigh, so tragically I wanted something savoury. Ordered and waited, the three of us chatting non-stop over various social situations and nonsense like the wonderful nonsensical beings we are.

cappuccino, $4.90 and iced mocha, $6.50.

Say hello to the long-locked ladies who lunch- Liz (left) and Celeste. Aren’t their smiles gorgeous? Don’t ask me why the camera focus is on the glass bottle because it just so happened to be that momentary mistake and regret. I ordered the cappuccino, seeing it only fit to try their famed milky concoctions, a little startled by the price but this surprise was stunted when I was greeted by the beautifully and intricately decorated image of a swan nestled in a large purple cup on a yellow saucer. Plater certainly knows his complementary colours. One of the best foam art works I’ve seen yet, almost perfectly symmetrical, the swan itself brimming with a delicate life, albeit the fragile wispiness. The coffee itself isn’t robust enough, and I didn’t finish it. Heard a myriad good things about it, though. Perhaps it was one of those one-off circumstances. Despite the (oh-so) tiny letdown, I was highly impressed by the quality of the bean, which I could taste in the first tender sip. Yes, it must be tender, because rushing through a coffee just isn’t very connoisseur-like now, is it.

Poached eggs on english muffin with a side of honey baked ham, $8.00+$4.00, eggs florentine with spinach, smoked salmon and hollandaise on ciabatta, $18.00

What I like is how you can choose from all the various sides as well as the type of bread you should like to nicely sop up all the yolk and hollandaise. Their hollandaise was a little on the thicker side, but the flavour was preserved with the right amount of tang, the butter not saying farewell to the well-whipped yolks. The poached eggs fared eggsellently. See what I did there. Yolks and more yolks! It was disgustingly yolk-y heaven. Rich and sodden, yellow and beautiful. One soft slip of the fork caused an outrageous, glorious burst of bright yellow, spilling over onto the sides, buttering the lonely spinach leaves, offering a soft glaze for the lovely salmon beneath. Everything mixed together in perfect harmony. I enjoyed this a little too much, but the one thing I regret not getting for myself was this baby right below.

‘Can I have a bite?’

‘Sure.’

And thank God for that.

Before you die of a visual orgasm, let me just make it clear that yes, this was both beautiful and delicious. A lot of beautiful things aren’t worth all the praise, but this… This.

Special of the day: Buttermilk waffles with caramel bananas, walnut crunch and vanilla ice cream, $14.90

You’ve heard of buttermilk pancakes, buttermilk scones, buttermilk in your pants. These buttermilk waffles are the lightest, crispest babies in the universe, and when fastened in that ridiculous, flawless, unbeatable, traditional (alright I’ll stop) combination of banana, vanilla and caramel, I warn you, you might cry. Yeah, in public. Everyone will watch you shed buttermilk tears into your perfect circle of yeast and flour and sugar- oh, sugar. Cut into it. Crisp, golden, carnal. It’s dangerous, it implores you to go on, zombie-like, to take your fork and smear a little of that ice cream on top, make it pretty with a sliver of caramel (note I say caramel, not caramelised, because that’s just the way they serve it, perhaps to make you feel a little less guilty over your pre-New Year gluttony, in an effort to kid yourself over your wondrous efforts to nourish that slovenly little body of yours) banana and walnut, go on, go on. I could go on, but that might be a little mean. When I say fluffy and light, I mean it. Too many a time I encounter stodgy, dense rocks with little square holes pricked in the middle to resemble (gasp) waffles.

Please just go and order this. I implore you.

Rating: 4.7/ 5.0

Strangers’ Reunion

37 Kampong Bahru Rd
6222 4869

Posted on December 31, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

VeganBurg

Ha. Vegan, you say? Not so fast. Get up from the floor laughing. I know most of you would scramble at the thought of soy-and-tomato or mushroom-based patties. Maybe throw in a lettuce or two. Give it a little flair with a dollop of organic (shock horror) mayo. Oh! And organic cola to go with that. Or organic limeade and Pimm’s. If all else fails, we have some broccoli roulade and orange reduction to throw on a piece of (organic) bread. Bit of mayo won’t hurt. Who are we kidding right.

I have been meaning to (yes, I was actually looking forward to making this purposeful trip) try this place out ever since it opened. Boxing Day, free day, day with family. A super late lunch it was. It was more than half empty when we got there, Paul McCartney posing in front of the doors with his ‘favourite meat-free fast food joint’. That was enough to get my meat-hungry DAD feel a touch more enthusiastic. I could feel his sighs and bemoaning make the air heavier. Once again, not so fast dad. Just… I believe in the power of vegan. I believe. McCartney believes. So you must believe too.

Sat down, but got up again just to look at the menu. The words ‘cracked pepper’ and ‘hawaiian teriyaki’ shone their little delicate vegan beams onto my glazed eyes. I was hungry just looking at the pouches of sauce oozing from the fat sides. Came across the phrase ‘smoky BBQ’ at the bottom and I was good to go. And then. The God-awful service. There was only one teenage waiter with black stud earrings, orange hair and a I-don’t-give-a-f sort of attitude looking at us placidly since the beginning. Frustration mounted before I even settled on my order. Almost peaked, but I kept a steady calm. Doubts rose.

Above: Smoky BBQ, $7.90 on its own or $11.80 as a set. I got the set, along with their ‘citrus cooler’ and seaweed fries. Military-style, in a mess tin (which by the way, you have to empty out yourself when you’re done with the grub)

Which apparently contains beta-carotene. I’m up a level in the Vitamin A department, guys! More molecules with beta rings. Hallelujah. Their buns, jokes aside, are made from ‘organic wholemeal grains, unrefined raw sugar, distilled water and sea salt’. Now, imagine if they didn’t add the word distilled. All hell might break loose. I like how they put the words ‘unrefined’ and ‘raw’ in the same sentence. Talk about redundancy. But they hit the spot, this burger. The bun was soft, pliable and fluffy. More so than a Mickey Dees’, I would say. Yes, even so. I’m pathetic because I forgot to take a shot to show the sides; excuse me because I was too busy enjoying it, too busy to lift my greasy fingers off the damn thing, wipe them, pick up my camera, find the right angle, aperture, shutter speed and focus, and take a good shot. I could have, but I didn’t. Right now I’m trying to deal with myself on this one. Please.

The thing about burgers is that… it’s only subjective to an extent. You cannot deny a good one. Compared to last time’s experience at &Made, these were brilliant. I tried my sister’s ‘hawaiian teriyaki’ ($10.80 as a set) and my parents’ ‘creamy shrooms’ ($11.80, set), and both were flavourful in their own individual ways. Having originally contemplated the hawaiian teriyaki, I was still satisfied with my BBQ choice, with sufficiently sweet and slightly spicy BBQ sauce leaving a generous coat between lettuce, and yes, there were onions. My annoyance lay in the fact that there weren’t caramelised. But that’s only because I’m picky and a bother when it comes to onions. I don’t mind raw, but boy, if they were caramelised… Munched through alfafa sprouts (say it five times), tomatoes and lettuce. All organic of course. All the burgers are actually identical, little groups of twins and triplets, if it were not for the sauces hiding underneath those tender buns, or the slight textural differences in patties or degree of vegetable doneness.

Yes. Mushroom and soy-based patties. Hyphae growing on my tongue. No, just kidding. These tender, rather thin patties boasted more flavour than I expected. Probably because they were more textured and slightly sweeter than what you would find in an average red meat burger. Didn’t provide the same gutsy bite, but nevertheless, I can’t fault the flavour. The shroom and teriyaki burgers beat mine hands down, but hey, it was a first. My sister got the hotdog, which, considering the whole meatless factor, tasted pretty impressive. Meatless, but tastes almost of chicken. Alright, more like 51.54%. And I say this for all the patties. Pale, slightly chewy little discs. As for the citrus cooler, it offered a refreshing break between bites, though was a little diluted for my liking. These guys should offer a carbonated option. Oh, the service.

I might be back.

Only if that waiter throws away his apron.

Rating: 4.4/5

VeganBurg

200 Turf Club Road #01-32
Singapore 287994

Phone: 6462 1281

Posted on December 26, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Magic (and some Rome shots)

We have reached the point of magic.

Friends, Christians, Romans (ha ha), the magic has bloomed and taken over us all right now. It’s broken down from an anticipating cloud into a million little sparkles, drenching us from the inside out. As I swoon over all my presents, as I write letters and notes on what I got from who, it strikes me just how much we take for granted this one day. I went upstairs to my room’s cupboard, or what I label my storage cupboard, and rummaged through the years’ accumulation of boxed-up presents and toys and stuffed animals. Sitting on their bums. Nonchalant state, blind, hell, probably bored, but sparkling with the memories born of yesteryears. In Singapore right now, there’s no frolicking in conifer-laden forests, no restless gallivanting in the gelid (I learnt this fun word today, which basically means wintery or cold. Accomplishment number one- done) snow. Pity, isn’t it. I haven’t posted any shots of Rome yet, so please enjoy the cigarette smoke you see streaming out of this man’s hole, as well as the crazy espresso culture I immersed myself in.

Pictures. Nothing more, nothing less, but so profound through my lens.

Yes, I’m the blur-eyed thing on the left.

My mother got me something quite wonderful this Christmas, something I can’t bear to disclose here because the excitement and giddiness is both frustrating and overwhelming. I’m angry, so angry at her for spoiling me this way. It actually hurts. Materialistic goods are for the faint of heart, or perhaps those overly ridden with the frivolous joys and majesties of this intrinsically materialistic world, and yet here I am gushing about the latest bag or my new New Scientist subscription and recipe book. No critics allowed here, please.

Sometimes I forget how small I am. In the midst of two-metre tall letters, bundled up in winter gear, heart thumping, internally applauding the graciousness of God made real and beautiful in the gold, ornate interior of St. Peter’s Basilica. Slivers of light to greet us, the warmth and holiness of hundreds of years preserved for us to revel in.

I’m so happy I shall make some rum-spiced tiramisu.

Yes. Right about now.

Posted on December 25, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

&Made

Burgers (again) with my favourite.

I don’t know if I’ve ever told you about my everlasting and overwhelming penchant for black and white. This place had it all done up lego-style, not my style in particular, but they tried and their efforts won’t go unappreciated.

My ‘favourite’? Oh right, that thing in the picture box just above, a little to the left. I hope the organism is visible. We sat down to a table, the waiter looking us up and down before taking away the bottle of red wine. Lix doesn’t drink, but I was more than happy to share in his alcoholic innocence. Virginity, almost. I was more ready for a little meat, some afternoon sustenance.

The ‘B’ Burger, $19 (this goes out to my ask.fm anon who suggested I actually put down the prices of food. Sorry about that. Perhaps I’m not the most inclined to associate price with final taste? I still love you. Just a note, all prices are in SGD.)

‘a juicy, dry aged beef patty atop with caramelised onions (MAJOR PULL FACTOR HERE), French Comté cheese and amazingly delicious caper and garlic mayonnaise’.

Yes, they said ‘amazing’. Like, really amazing, you know. There’s only so much a dollop of mayo can do, but this did quite the trick, pulling the sharper Comté flavour, like a wild character simmered down to white paste, together with the beef patty. My disappointment lies within the doneness of that patty. A little pink in the mid, but that’s it. Utterly overdone otherwise. The bread didn’t sing with grilled crispness, buttery and hardy, the juices scarcely flowed, the cheese did little but offer a mild flavour, with the mayo furthering the dimmed oomph factor. It didn’t come together, to put it lightly. The one thing I did spend time enjoying, mixing with the fries and provided little saucer of their handmade BBQ sauce, which tasted like dry and overly sweet sambal, if you ask me, were the caramelised onions. Because onions. There, done, said.

Disappointed? I should think so. I should really, really think so, especially after meaning to visit this place since June of this year. June, my friend!

NY Bacon, $21

What my favourite had. ‘traditional dry aged beef patty, smoked bacon, tomato, mayonnaise, pickled cucumber and cheddar cheese’.

A little too American for my taste (you can see he went all out with the vanilla milkshake), but I eyed his patty with envy. Both of ours are dry aged, but evidently his was at least twice as tender, as delicately handled. You could tell just from the outside, maybe a little poke. I stole a bite, yes just a bite, and well, first senses don’t lie. Indeed it was on the less done side, much more to my taste, however the flavour couldn’t beat anything, letting myself down the drain just a little more. No impression, no dropping of jaws. No amazeball fries, either.

Mediocrity is pain. And if you’re one of those people who like hanking down on four inches of a well-glued burger, then well, sorry, this place isn’t for you. Well you could try…

&Made

Rating: 2.9/5

#01-04/05/06, Pacific Plaza, 9 Scotts Road

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

Anthesis

I like solo trips.

Anthesis- the period when a flower becomes sexually functional. Oh it’s functional, alright.

Just two doors down from Toby’s Estate, one of my other favourite coffee joints. I was tempted by their new menu additions and charming interior, but this other wooden dream did the trick (almost) as well. I needed a coffee and I needed some damn french toast to satiate this pining ache, this whining brunch stomach. An iced coffee for me. I’m not ordering a cap on this sun-drenched morning, no. Without the syrup, the complex notes of the Bean shine through immaculately. Fresh, and the size was quaint.

Sexy.

I have this obsession with eggy bread. French toast. Pain perdu. Whatever you deign appropriate for the breakfast queen. No but really, absolutely nothing compares to the words ‘french toast’ on a menu. Yes, not even eggs. This right here is their magnificent french toast stack layered with beautifully caramelised bananas, whipped cream, mascarpone cheese and butterscotch sauce. It took me a while to move my eyes past the provocative oozing and dripping of the cream down the dense and crisp, eggy edges. The square stack was an edible jenga tower, and I could make the first move. My knife creeped in, and all hell broke loose. I drizzled the sauce over everything- a thick brown coating of lust. A little embarrassing when you’re dining alone, as the sweet cream splays everywhere with bits of bread and mushy bananas. I probably looked ridiculous and greedy and terrible. The cheese was a nice touch, offering a fine savoury edge to the otherwise overly sweet mish mash of stodge and sugar. The bread could have been a tad less dense, such as the french toast I had at Skyve Elementary, another place I should get around to doing a review on soon. The eggy flavour here was half pronounced, and the cream was a little excessive between bites. Nevertheless. It’s french toast.

I couldn’t leave without stealing one of their passionfruit yuzu meringue tarts (!!) This was a slow and sinful home degustation. Gorgeous meringue flecks atop a rich and tart curd. The crust held all its own, lightly sweetened and firm, even after being out of the fridge for a while. The curd was on the more wobbly, fragile side, and the meringue full and sweet. I’m going to try their sea salt chocolate version next time.

Rating: 4.6/5

Anthesis

86 Robertson Quay

6737 9873

Posted on December 5, 2013February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 1

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recipes, catering, creativity

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Tag: nikon

Strangers’ Reunion

VeganBurg

Magic (and some Rome shots)

&Made

Anthesis