Singapore (Part 1): An Upgrade to Yummy Town

Our trip to Southeast Asia started off on an incredibly fortuitous note. Some might even say that it was “a sign”, but I’d rather just say we were mad lucky. So as to temper expectations. Let me explain.

We discovered upon check-in that we hadn’t gotten the aisle seat we’d requested. So we put in a last-minute plea: If there’s anything you can do, we really need an aisle seat, etc etc. They said every seat had been accounted for. We were officially bumming. We had banked on one us having an aisle seat so as to make getting up and stretching easier during this 14 hour flight. This was going to be rough.

When it came time to board the plane, I got my ticket scanned, and the scanning machine went beep beep. They gave me a new ticket. Curious. I walked onto the plane to find our new row. I was not optimistic. But when I spotted our new seats, I started jumping up and down…

UPGRADE!

Turns out, we now had our OWN ROW. Just the two of us. We had been reassigned to ELITE CLASS. With mega leg room, insane overhead compartment space, all the trimmings. Oh, man, this insanely long flight was not gonna be awful after all! On top of the ability to get up and stretch whenever we want, the in-flight meals were delicious, the beverage service was constant, and the headphones were gosh-darn soundproof. It was honestly one of the best transportation moments of my life.

14 hours later, we were in Taipei. Quick transfer to the next plane, and we were seated in economy. Which made me so grateful that we had Elite Class seats on the long leg. But let me tell you, you can never stop thinking about your experience in Elite Class when you’re in economy. Sigh. 4 hours later, we were in Singapore. Beautiful, clean, calm Singapore.

(Not the worse for wear after a good 18 hours of flying, at Changi Airport in Singapore.)

We stayed on a bustling street called Tanjong Katong Road, in a neat house occupied by a friend of Richard’s from college, Mischa, his wife Mengmeng, her parents, and their 17 month old baby, who was the most mild-mannered child in the universe. In fact, the baby’s temperament really reflected that of Singapore’s: a feeling of ease. Life just seems so easy in Singapore; it’s easy to get around, (relatively) easy to raise a family, and it’s especially easy to find yummy food. We found yummy food quite easily at food courts and hawker stalls.

Food courts are a huge part of eating culture in Singapore. They’re not like the crappy mall food courts in America. Singaporean food courts are made up of stalls which produce a variety of cheap, delicious, ethnic cuisine. You can find one hawker stall on its own by the side of the road, too. Singaporeans eat at food courts, hawker centres (outdoor forms of food courts), and hawker stalls, daily. Let me tell you about two dishes I ate at such venues.

First off, chicken rice. This is a big time Singaporean dish. For around $3.50 (about $2.80 USA bucks), you get a plate of perfectly cooked rice, with crispy roasted chicken, and sometimes a bit of barbecued pork. On the side, a steaming hot bowl of light, clear chicken soup with a flourish of scallions. Lots of thick syrupy soy sauce and green and red hot sauce completes the dish. Perfect for breakfast or lunch, in my opinion. As we waited in line for our first chicken rice, one of the locals looked at us, approvingly, and said that this place sells very good chicken rice. It started to rain while we waited in line, and the same local said about the rain: “Always a blessing.” We came back to this chicken rice place three more times. I miss it already. Especially when accompanied with lime juice.

(You want that lime juice.) 

Second: roti prata. Oooh, this was good. We had it as a part of a really nice breakfast at the food court about 1/3 mile down the road. Roti prata is a fried, flour-based pancake, Indian in origin. I got mine filled with egg and minced shallot. A rich, salty, spicy, red broth was served on the side for dipping. Bacon, egg, and cheese on a roll has nothing on this perfectly fried, folded pocket. The man who cooked it for us ran a small stall in a food court next to a trampoline park called AMPED. We never made it to the trampoline park but loved the name. Obvs.

Another dish all Singaporeans say we had to try was crab. Specifically, chilli (yes, with two L’s) crab. Richard’s old friend, Ma Thet, took us to one of her favorite chilli crab joints at the end of a particularly toasty and humid day. The place was a breezy outdoor restaurant with tons of families, enjoying each other’s company.

We started off the meal with young coconuts filled with bright, sweet coconut water. Mega-refreshing. Then came a side of spicy green vegetables, similar to Chinese broccoli. This was the first of three very spicy dishes at this particular meal. The spice aspect would prove painful yet addictive.

Ma Thet skillfully ordered two kinds of crab. First came a crab with a black pepper sauce sitting on a giant bed of thinly sliced sautéed onions. This wasn’t, officially, chilli crab but it was my favorite. The tender, meaty crab was just coated in the sauce. Little fried buns which resembled miniature Twinkies in appearance accompanied the crab. You use these buns to soak up the sauce. I like sauce-soaking-up foods. After we cracked open the shells and picked out the crabmeat with chopsticks, we dipped the buns in the sauce and licked our fingers. So much finger licking. This meal was so messy, I can’t even tell you. Ma Thet only used 2 fingers from each hand to eat the crab, and she looked so graceful and tidy. Richard and I, on the other hand, were total messes.

The second crab that arrived, the traditional chilli crab with a deeply red and eggy sauce, was an even messier affair. This crab was the female crab, and the flesh was much more tender than the black pepper crab which was a male crab. Ma Thet had said chilli crab wasn’t really spicy, but she was wrong about this particular experience; it was hot as all get out!

(crab, spicy vegetables, buns, hot sauce, and much needed moist towelettes in the background)

When the meal was over, I scraped the young custardy coconut flesh from the shell in an attempt to cool things down a bit.

(Ahhhhhh!)

It was grand meal. And oh so hot. Did I mention hot?

Speaking of hot: hot pot.  Hot pot was our last dinner in Singapore, and we enjoyed it at a restaurant just downstairs from the place where we were staying. Hot pot is a big pot of boiling broth in which you quickly cook meat, vegetables, and dumplings at your table. Half of our pot was a super hellfire broth, and the other half was a milder broth. There was a clever little divide down the middle, so we could enjoy both broths.

Our hosts, Mischa and his in-laws, checked off items on a sheet of paper. The items soon arrived: thin-sliced beef, spinach dumplings, potato, fried tofu skin, bitter herbs and greens, cabbage, corn on the cob. And many more goodies. There was a learning curve with how long to cook certain items, but the mother-in-law gave us a hand with that. The hellfire broth was a bit too much to take, although pretty thrilling for a bit. The father-in-law said there are three levels of heat-seeking Chinese eaters, and even though he is one who can appreciate the most heat, this broth was almost a bit too intense for him. That was comforting to hear, as the sweat dripped down my face and I coughed something fierce. Mengmeng, Mischa’s wife, soon arrived at the restaurant. She could barely handle any of the heat. Turns out she’s a heck of a cook, however…

The last dish I’m going to talk about is something that I don’t believe is very traditional to Singapore. But it’s a dish that stands out in my mind the most from my week of eating there, perhaps because Mengmeng cooked it for us in her home: a savory Japanese pancake called okonomiyaki, which she had learned to cook while studying at university in Japan. 

The name is derived from the word “okono” meaning “what you like”, and man, did I like this dish. Gosh. A crispy, fluffy, eggy pancake, made slightly starchy from yam flour, bursting with fresh seafood–mostly shrimp and squid–and finely chopped cabbage and onion. On top of the pancake was thinly sliced pork belly which gave the dish a smoky flavor. Mengmeng cut the pancake into huge wedges and instructed us to drizzle thick Worcestershire sauce and a slightly sweet Japanese mayonnaise on top. I have to say, this pancake was just out-of-control delicious. Mengmeng made it from a pre-mixed package, which had a base of yam flour and some leavening agent and spices. I need to seek out a mix such as this when I return to NYC and make use of my wok. Because okonomiyaki is one of my new favorite things.

I am overjoyed that Mengmeng made okonomiyaki for us in her home. It is in Japan where she she learned to cook it, and it is in Singapore where I first enjoyed it. We don’t know where or how we will first encounter some of our favorite meals. But as I laid down to sleep that night after okonomiyaki, I just knew that someday I would make it in my own kitchen. And when I do, I’ll think of Singapore.

(Until we meet again, okonomiyaki)

Cluck-Cluck-Vroom,

Wander Chicken