Sustenance

I think it’s time to talk Singapore food.

TBH, the climate kinda put the damper on my appetite, but I did have a few noshes. And slurps.

My hotel deal included breakfast, and it’s been my practice in the past to eat the hotel breakfast and then not feel hungry again until evening. I’ve got to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever had watermelon taste so intensely good as at the Conrad, so that was a staple of my daily start.

Because they cater to a global clientele, they also put out Asian staples, and, uh, baked beans for the Brits.

I thought their presentation of pancakes and waffles…interesting.

Along with the toppings.

And there was the honey collector that I last saw at my hotel in Dublin.

My one dinner out was at a place that claimed a long Swiss heritage, although all the staff were Asian. The décor was…eclectic; mashup of industrial minimalism with some baroque touches.

Too hot for fondue or raclette, so I had sea bass.

And, BTW: it seemed a bit optimistic to refer to itself as Wine Universe, when they offered about five whites by the glass.

My one lunch out was at a hawker center, Old Airport Road Food Centre—like a food court, but outdoors and all mom-and-pop, not chains. I went for the Live Prawn Noodle Soup, and it was delicious. The woman came out from her stall, netted up three swimming prawns from their tank and dumped them in the boiling water. While they cooked, she put noodles in the bowl and ladled in the broth. As she handed over the tray to me, an old fella filled a little bowl with hot sauce and gave me the plastic soup spoon. I gotta tell you—that soup was extra primo good. Also, beautiful.

NB: napkins are not really a thing in Singapore. People in the know bring their own, or wipes. However, the Food Centre had sinks with soap dispensers, which I much appreciated.

On National Day I had afternoon tea at another hotel. I wanted to test the theory that hot tea is meant to be refreshing, which is what members of the British Raj claim. It was ridiculously expensive, which I kind of expected, but also—get a load of the shape of this cup. It’s like a champagne coupe—what’s with the wide surface? Tea’s not going to hold the heat in that thing. (The preserves for the scones, BTW, were tea-flavored.)

It was indeed refreshing, but I don't know how much of than came from being in an air-conditioned hotel.

The rest of the time I spent at the hotel bar, because in addition to the breakfast, my deal included $100 credit, which I prefer to drink. The first night, I got chicken satay with a Singapore Sling; I thought the latter somewhat obligatory. It was fine—all the juice in it masked the gin. But, honestly—look at the size of that napkin! For finger food! All their other clients must be much neater than I.

Other nights, I sat at the bar, because I like watching bartenders work. And drank champagne or Kir Royale.

(Those potato chips were lethal; horseradish flavored.)

The final night I had something called a Tokyo Sunrise, invented by the bartender at the Conrad Tokyo: rum, mango juice, passionfruit juice, maybe some other things, topped off with soda water. Lordy, it was good—and a work of art.

And that’s my Singapore gustatory adventure.