Carpenter and Cook

Processed with VSCOcam with f2 preset — Passionfruit Meringue Tart– $6.50

Brain dead. Slow, lethargic. We trudged uphill. And lo and behold, we found the quaintest little hideout at Upper Bukit Timah. Felt like the queens of the hill, and frankly, all energy was restored soon after. Walking at least a mile in that heat was pretty worth it.

Did I say quaint? I said quaintest. The plates, the decor, the everything. I had been meaning to visit this place for at least a year and half, and finally I can announce I have been, and have eaten. Eaten what, exactly? Why, only some of the best tarts I have tried in the country. Starting off with this passionfruit meringue babe, one in their ‘The Queen of Hearts Tarts’ series. Yeah that’s right, they boast six different sorts of tarts to please the senses. One walks in and marvels at the Alice in Wonderland clocks and cutlery, but marvels even more at the quality of double-baked (yes!!) crusts. And I don’t mind double-baked crusts. Frankly, I prefer it. This tart sings with the zesty tang of passionfruit without letting it dampen the filling. Cutting into it was admittedly a little tough, with my fork splaying everywhere, but the surprise lay in the filling, which in contrast to the stout and hardy crust, was very moist and more runny than other fillings I have encountered. Silky, rich, topped with the prettiest dollops of sweet meringue.

And goodness, the lemonade. Fizzy, sweet, gorgeous, refreshing.

I couldn’t not try more babies. Saying it like that is horribly sadistic, but I really can’t find any other appropriate way to describe them. They are such… babies. Mini, petite, pretty, delicate. Too much so to be touched by even the most delicate of forks. And I am extremely, eternally grateful to my friend Liz’s mum for helping me buy them. I still feel a little embarrassed!

The lemon cream tart was my queen. Probably the best lemon tart I have tried so far.

Lemon anything is God-sent. I personally don’t know what would happen to me if I was deprived of this angel of a fruit. And I certainly felt like a queen eating it for breakfast this morning. Equals. The filling, contrary to popular belief, is not too sour at all, and perfectly complements the extraordinarily buttery and only mildly sweet crust. The sourness wasn’t let down by a dribbly consistency, but instead was spread evenly throughout a bright-hued, sacred pale yellow. Vivid and creamy. It’s hard to stop yabbering on about both shell and filling. It’s calling me.

Most everything about it was faultless, from the smooth and silky chocolate top and gooey, almost smoky caramel insides. Cut like butter with a mini fork. Ravishing. A little more salt and perhaps a more sophisticated grade of chocolate would be preferable, but overall, my, my.

The lemon drizzle cake is part of their ‘Eat Me’ loaf cake series, and other options include banana, pear almond and apple cobbler. As I have mentioned time and time again, lemon anything is irresistible. I couldn’t.. not. I was heavily impressed by this one in particular; the cake was of the right tart to sweet ratio, the inside was dense enough to pack in the perfect amount of flavour, light enough to hold the title of a posh fairy cake. The icing was an uplifting experience, I swear.

The downside to all of this was the price. Let’s be real. I was extremely hesitant to pay more than 6 bucks for one minuscule tart, which might not have lived up to expectations. Considering this place was rather off-the-beaten track, and required quite a trek to get to, the prices incited a moderate degree of annoyance. Then again, they do make everything themselves and the quality is pretty unbeatable. They obviously take great pride in their work and efforts, although the service available could have been a tad more professional. I overheard one at the counter asking, in a rather audible tone, if some strange liquid in a cup ‘smelt like shit’. I could’ve said it, anyone could have said it. But right when I was eating a passionfruit meringue tart…?

If anything, go for their lemon-themes tarts or cakes. Those are certainly worth every bead of sweat. They also sell savoury dishes such as quiches, savoury brioche buns and make their own jams. I highly, highly recommend at least one visit!

Carpenter and Cook

19 Lorong Kilat (Upper Bukit Timah area)

6463 3648

Tues-Sat: 10am–10pm

Sun: 10am–7pm

Closed Mondays

Posted on May 23, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 5

Toby’s Estate

SO. It’s been, what, a year since I’ve visited Toby’s? I just love how I say Toby’s like that. So casual and upfront. My little brother, my coffee maker, my Robertson Quay pit stop. My luscious wooden enclave. My, my, my. This place was what I should like to term ‘unavailable’ for a while, due to renovations the past few weeks. So once they opened, I’ve been meaning to come back. For a comparing of standards and perhaps another trip to crema heaven. The last time I went, it was my virgin experience. I had their cappuccino and ‘Toby’s Big Breakfast’ set, which made me drool and gape, all lolled-jaw and star-spangled. I fell in love with the pale, sleek wooden decor, the high brick ceilings, the stone walls, how I could sit at the wooden study desk-like table right by the window and people watch, whilst doing work or journalling. This, I remember saying to myself, is the high life. Literally, too, because I was on a high chair. And thank God it wasn’t the sort which made me feel the creases of my skirt attacking an inappropriate crack.

Second visit. More chairs, I observed, and sophisticated still lifes and photo captures on the familiar brick. They even display their coffee goods and machinery along the walls for any caffeine nerd to check out. Once I earn my own money, I told myself. The smell of good business? Check. A white-people majority with either an iPad in hand or young child feeding? Check. Gorgeous, soft light streaming through the large rectangular window by my favourite study desk? Check, check, check. I was waiting for café buddy (or should I say, bunny) Liz, so I ordered first. All ready.

Toby’s French Toast: Brioche, espresso maple bacon, berries, diced apple and maple syrup– $14.90

And may I admit– I came here specially for this french toast. Because I’ve seen too many darn pictures of it and it looked too good to pass up this opportunity. And so I patiently waited (no induced anger this time, because the cooking time was surprisingly fast and I don’t remember tapping or humming as I sat waiting with a growling, breakfast-deprived tummy). The iced coffee was outstanding, because, well, the coffee here is always impressive. There’s nothing I could fault about the aftertaste. Refreshing, light, singing, not too acidic. An easy pass down the good ol’ oesophagus.

But the french toast. Oh, no. The waiting time may have been impressive, but the actual dish, not so much. Yes, there was the extravagant and marvellous addition of ‘espresso’ maple bacon, though there wasn’t so much a hint of espresso, let alone full-bodied flavour. It was well-cooked, crispy and beautifully maple-glazed, but I expected more from the given title. Wouldn’t have minded a little acidity or perhaps even a smidgen of coffee aroma. Perhaps the stuff evaporated completely during the lavish fry-up. The actual french toast was severely disappointing, and not even the thick, sticky maple syrup could do much to salvage it. The brioche they used was too dense to allow for complete egg saturation; the poor slices couldn’t enjoy an aristocrat’s bath long enough to have the golden goo penetrate their pores properly. The outside was nice and golden, but the inside was virgin-white, almost as if completely untouched. Normal, placid, mildly sweet white toast, without so much as a one-time dunk. Left in the cold. I might be behaving a little dramatically right now, but I really expected so much more out of this. I also think they should’ve tried making a fruit purée or compote, mixed with chunks of fresh fruit, instead of straightforward fruit. I appreciate the freshness and all, but it would’ve done more to enhance the flavour of both sweet and salty on the plate and on the palate. I picked at the outer eggy, fried bits, my heart dimly lit. Oh, Toby.

Poached eggs on sourdough with a side of sautéed mushrooms– $8.50+$5

This was Liz’s, and she was kind enough to give me some of her mushrooms, because if you ask me, mushrooms are one of the most genius things to survive on this planet. I could live on them fried, sautéed, pickled. Squished or raw, even. That’s how far I’ll go to proclaim my love for the stuff. But at restaurants or cafés, if they say ‘sautéed’, it damn well be just that. These were a little mediocre; they could’ve used a little more butter and a longer cooking time to yield a more moreish, juicy result. Though well seasoned, it lacked the slight indulgent factor. It would have paired even better with the flowy yolk. Yum. their poached eggs looked very well done, and must’ve fared much better than my own dish. The side salad with balsamic reduction was a good pucker-up accompaniment, and the sourdough was good and hearty.

Should like to conclude by saying that if you’re trying to find a rather conducive, slightly isolated but sophisticated hideout and a good cup, this is it. Ponder life and the universe while you’re at it, as you stare out into the Singapore River. It’s cool on the inside, so you could pretend you’re isolated from the gnawing heat. Just, well, skip the french toast. Perhaps it was a one-off thing. If not, long live One Man Coffee’s version.

Toby’s Estate

8 Rodyk Street, Singapore 238216
6636 7629

Posted on May 6, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Oz Specialty Coffee

I sincerely enjoy and relish the sight of empty coffee canisters and roasters and pressers and whatnot greeting me after a draining day at school. Liz and I tirelessly searched high and low for the place, and were immensely grateful at the first sight of a gleaming black sign plastered on a glass window, the outside neatly littered with a couple of quaint, white, wooden chairs and tables. They had the pseudo-Alice-in-Wonderland thing going on. Extraordinarily tiny area, though.

I guess you could say there is a reason why this iced mocha is cheaper than those other crazy $8 ones you would get at the more pretentious titles around town. This one was around the length of that between my wrist and knuckles. It came with glorious streaks, a pool of rich chocolate stuck to the bottom. What I enjoyed about this iced mocha in particular is firstly, the quality of the coffee beans used. The aroma is simple; not nutty or exotic but perfect for this sort of milk-based, sweet and whimsical drink. Secondly, it was not overly sweet, drenched excessively in cheap chocolate syrup and then quickly covered up with cold whole milk to make visually appealing to the masses. No, this one is a delicate, miniature mocha. I would have perhaps preferred it a little colder, and with espresso cubes instead of the normal ones, though of course I now sound like a spoilt little coffee brat, don’t I. Keep it up, Oz. I like you already.

Salted caramel belgian Liege waffles– $7.50 — Salted caramel Belgian Liege waffles– $7.50

And I promise you it’s worth every cent. I guess you could go somewhere such as Assembly Coffee or Stranger’s Reunion for your waffle fix, though it’s most likely frustratingly crowded and you might have to force open the door to get a little fresh air amongst the clatter and chatter. This was an utterly, outrageously delectable change. They have a whole darn Belgian Liege series, for goodness’ sake, and you get two beautiful little Belgian babies in less than 15 minutes with a appropriately-sized scoop of above-average vanilla ice cream. Belgian Liege waffles are essentially the brioche of waffles– thick and sensual, thicker and chewier. You can’t not have these. Can’t. I mean, you can see the vanilla speckles, right? I wouldn’t say it’s as devilish and heat-tolerant as the ice cream at Habitat’s, which really was an unexpected dream. The ice cream here melted in heart-stopping time, and we were sitting indoors. They also offer options such as waffles with summer berries or with scrambled eggs and bacon, if you’re more of a savoury soul. The next time I pop by, I’m going to give their affogato version a try. Drizzle of espresso over thick, moist, slightly sweet and chewy 4-inch waffles. I saw pictures, ok. The dream is alive, just a few bus stops away.

Each bite was satisfying and yet not overly indulgent. The portion size is perfect, the flavours meld together beautifully. But watch out. They said salted caramel, but sadly that wasn’t what I got. One may detect traces of salt in the thick sauce, however it’s not as prominent or outstanding as what you would probably get at say, Assembly Coffee. They need to turn up the salt notch and use more authentic salted caramel, for although this was thick and lovingly true to my childhood idea of the BEST caramel sauce ever, it rendered a less sophisticated vibe with its gloopy sweetness.

Best bit: Crisp exterior and dense, mildly sweet, true-to-brioche interior.

We gave in. Ordered this.

This expensive slice has a moist and dark base, with a creamy, lightly aerated interior, though I still prefer a more buttery, tangy and coronary heart disease-inducing white filling. It’s on the sweeter side, which made it enjoyable but nothing special. That being said, I liked how it wasn’t too muggy whilst still retaining a good level of indulgence within that whipped and cheesy body. The top is raspberry jam, which yielded a sweet and tart finish.

Oz Specialty Coffee

#01-13, Thomson V Two, 11 Sin Ming Road

Posted on April 26, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Pies and Coffee

Been a while since I had a pie. The title is a little too dead-on straightforward, isn’t it. Straight up pies, and all sorts of them. A huge thank you to my bloop who took me to this cosy spot after a rough day at school. Eternally. Grateful (:

Before you hound me on my non-existent rights to use not-quite-there iPhone quality, I should like you all to know that this place has on my to-go list for quite a while now and I’m rather proud of the fact that I was able to sit down for a good few hours with my bloop (Ruru!!) to enjoy some pies and coffee. There. Alright, so we gave this one a shot. It was their ‘pie of the month’, so that in itself sort of made me inclined to just… Try. This aside, they have a ton of other round, crusty, fork-fingered options, such as wagyu beef cheek, lamb shank, wagyu beef rendang and cheddar cheese and chicken. Look around and the place is literally littered with all sorts of goods encased in a whole pie shell or crust, both savoury and gloriously sweet. I was sweating by the time we walked there, so you can imagine my relief when we were greeted by the beckoning, cool interior, with hip sofas and white chairs. One of those places I wouldn’t mind just being by myself to study in, or emptying some hours with a good friend or two. Stuff my face with pie and perhaps dissolve right into its belly.

I was a little skeptical about the coffee, and just as I thought, it was simply not evident, not even a little, in and amongst the hunks of thigh meat crust. Nowhere to be found, but this lack of my favourite food group was compensated by the sufficiently tender meat. Then again, I suggest a quick change in name of their special, in case they get any complaints. Either that or they should take the marination step a little more seriously. The meat? I say sufficiently, as, well, that’s plainly what it was. Not abhorrently dry, yet not as dewy and juicy as I would have liked. Plain, good thigh meat, and I’m glad they didn’t skimp on the occasional fatty bit either. The chewy bits of cartilage always appeal to me, as awful as that may sound to another. Cartilage love is a deep and carnal affair. The deep and luscious colour of the chicken looked almost inappropriate; I expected the honest halo of off-white or soft brown chicken meat, though understandably it’s labelled with coffee for a reason, despite the complete lack of exactly that. It looked rather inviting at my first cut, my knife giving way through the crust with 10 times more ease than what I prepared myself for. I could say it was a tad disheartening, for I enjoy an almost-burnt or charred, grossly crusty sort of crust. This one fell away from the interior a little too easily, and though the pastry itself was palatable, the texture could have been a little more civilised. Savagely toasted, yum. I personally would have preferred a lightly heartier middle, with more moxie and, dare I say it, shreds? I just got chunk after chunk. I watched as the lady at the counter nonchalantly plopped one pie from the display counter into the heater. Clearly, these guys aren’t the freshest bunch of pies, but it’s still a relatively comforting option if you’re around the area. No, its not the sort of fully heartening grub you would get at a local English pub, maybe even Murray’s or whatnot, but my taste buds were not wholly disappointed, especially with the kind accompaniment of their special mash and gravy, into which they even incorporated the potato skins, to add a welcoming, different texture. The gravy was of the right degree of lumpiness, if that even is a word at all, and the mash boasted creamy, almost wholesome notes. I could deceive myself into thinking so anyway. Good, buttery stuff.

I’ve got a sweet tooth. So does she. What could we do? We had to order this lime basil meringue tart. We just had to. It looked like the rose among the thorns of sweet tarts, its meringue hat pulling it up a few rungs on the ladder of regality in the counter display. I’m actually not too sure about that pricing; I somehow remember it to be just that, though I could be wrong. I don’t even trust my own soggy memory. I was drawn in by those beautifully torched, thick swirls of meringue, some yellow or vermillion jewel of an interior lovingly encased by what looked to be a gloriously crusty, buttery pastry. Got it, sat down. Cut, pulled, mouth…

The meringue was exceedingly sweet and outrageously thick. If I could describe it in one word, it would be cloying. Nevertheless, I enjoyed the complementary tartness of the murky orange curd, which wasn’t as thick as a hard-set jelly or even fridge-cold custard (oh, how I wish the entire tart was fridge-cold!), but more so a viscous, wilting jam. They slashed some sickly sweet strawberry jam across the plate as well, which I thought completely unnecessary. The lime and basil spoke for itself, with the latter coming through in subtle nudges, peeking through the thick lime base, which didn’t taste completely of lime. I could’ve been fooled by a lemon label. They might as well have typed ‘citrus’ and the utter lack of differentiation between lime and lemon could have been excused. That aside, I thoroughly relished the actual flavour of the curd, especially with the hardy crust, which I thought fared much better than that of the pie. As for the meringue, they could have cut back on the sugar, and deviated from the thick, almost-Italian meringue sort of consistency. It made me think of a similar meringue tart I had at Assembly Coffee, where it was light, delicate and perfect aerated. This one hit my sweet tooth just a little too hard, to the point whereby it felt as if each bite was more sin than decadence. Sinful decadence, remember, is an entirely different thing altogether. It’s funny, because I did relish the unusual pairing of something paired with basil, perhaps because the sweet-tart complementary pairing was intense and duly satisfying. It’s making me want to incorporate lime into one of my baking experiments, if I ever do get the time (?!)

Rating: 3.4/ 5.0

Pies and Coffee

Rochester Mall
35 Rochester Drive, #01-02, Singapore 138639
Tel: +65 6570 0080 | Fax: +65 6659 2217

Posted on April 17, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

Artistry

Oh baby. We made it. Rejoice and let the angels sing in the background. All hail the world of coffee and waffles.

Seriously, it’s almost a job. By the way, did you know that cafés actually make for extremely conducive work spaces? I used to avoid them like the plague, and now look what’s bitten me. Can’t help it, I just can’t. I’m living the dream, and studying becomes so much more exciting and worthwhile beside the perfect cup of coffee. I learnt this fact today. Most glad I did, at that. Furthermore, it’s the most satisfying thing in the whole world to be able to tick a café’s name of my to-go list. Akin to having a bright, cold shower after being stuck in the heat. Almost like tasting sweet water after having none of the stuff for 12 hours straight. That’s how empowering that tick is.

Popped by this GEM of a place near Arab Street, heart on my sleeve, coffee stomach empty (and hair a little messy). After having the french toast at One Man Coffee, my friend and I decided to share just a couple of things, just so we didn’t feel like exploding halfway, a la Monty Python and the Meaning of Life. If any of you have watched it, please tell me what you think of that absurd fat suit in the comments. Moving on. Ordered a Gibraltar and the Belgian waffles at the counter, from a most charismatic and knowledgeable young man. The fancy espresso machines were smirking at us, and the kindly service was so becoming that afternoon. I couldn’t wait to sit down and enjoy something good. Look, it was my first time. Sole virgin experiences don’t deserve pretentious expectations. But I tell you, oh, I tell you, I wa sseverly underestimating the quality of this space. The coffee, for one, was a dream in a cup. Not very acidic, but the beautiful roast was aromatic and kindly, bringing forth the right degree of caffeinated strength, sweetness and bitterness.

Belgian waffles with berry compote, maple syrup (served in the sweetest 10ml laboratory beaker) and fig and honey ice cream– $7+$3+$4 ($7 for just the waffles, and each additional scoop is $3)

You’re officially in denial if you say this isn’t a work of art.

Alright, everyone has had waffles before. Probably from a next best café, or a box mix, or something. One thing’s for sure, and that it probably doesn’t come close to the divinity my friend and I experienced that afternoon, as we sat there in the weak sun for the sake of catching this babe in the best possible light. I mean, look at that. Of course, there’s beautiful food, and then there’s beautiful and delicious food. I’m so excited to gush about how crisp, light and fluffy these were that my hands are practically flying across the keyboard and I’m constantly attacking the backspace button because I just can’t type properly with these sentiments and memories of that one waffle.

Crisp, I said. Oh, so crisp! They beat the ones I had at Assembly Coffee, and probably the ones at Strangers’ Reunion. The crunch was magnificent, angelic, but most of all, completely and utterly unexpected. Of the perfect thickness and doneness. I didn’t think they were going to be anything which surpassed mediocre. Waffles are so easy to be described as good. Shove the batter in the creviced pan and bam, you’ll probably get something nice. Decent, almost. Alright. But these are so wonderfully aerated and full of character, as if destined to be ravaged with the most extravagant of toppings, such as this gorgeous berry compote, which offered a sharp tinge of ruby citrus for our sweetened buds. The ice cream was a refreshing twist, though I can’t sing praise for that alone. The fig and honey was not evident at first bite, and offered little depth in flavour. I was surprised at how long the ball stayed in tact after spending quite a while in the heat, though, and after we went on a guilty photo-taking spree.

I’m going to try their famed cakes and PB&J french toast (goodness gracious?!) the next time, and my heart is pounding at the mere thought of such undeserved extravagance.

Tune in to your senses at Artistry. Read a book. Soak in some jazz. Pretty magic.

Rating: 4.8/5.0

Artistry Café

17 Jalan Pinang

6298 2420

Singapore 199149
Tuesday-Sunday 10am-7pm

Posted on March 22, 2014February 21, 2022 by alexcrumb 0

alexcrumb

recipes, catering, creativity

alexcrumb

Tag: #singapore

Carpenter and Cook

Toby’s Estate

Oz Specialty Coffee

Pies and Coffee

Artistry