19 July 2011


Last week Paul decided that he was done with Asian food. We do not have local food very often and I cook most meals at home, so we do not really partake in the Asian fare as often as we did when we first moved here. I had a night when I did not have any desire to cook and suggested that we go out.

We walked down to the beach and perused the outdoor food court, looking for anything appetizing. The only thing that captured our interest in the beginning was an outdoor grill covered in chicken wings. Asian chicken wings are not like the wings served in U.S. bars. Asian wings are much bigger and people here are served the entire wing, not just the arm or the drumstick. Five wings are enough to fill a person’s stomach.

The wings we purchased were advertised as “barbeque” wings. Apparently “barbeque” does not mean seasoned with the sweet and smoky sauce of the South. Singaporean barbeque is nothing more than another term for “grilled over a fire.” The seasoning was not bad, but it was not stellar and it was certainly not good enough to make us crave the chicken wings and go back for more every week.

In the middle of that meal, Paul decided he was done. Sick of Asian food. “Where is the American Chinese food?” he inquired. In America, we eat sweet and sour chicken, sesame chicken, fried rice and fortune cookies. Not in Singapore, my friends. Not in Singapore.

I branched out last week and had Indian food for the first time. I have often been intimidated by Indian food because it is unfamiliar, appears to have strange textures, is often really spicy (I am told) and usually gives people trouble after consumption (again…told…vaguely…).

After a visit to a store in Little India that would overwhelm Sam Walton, a friend and I decided to try a local restaurant. Nervous and honestly not hungry, I told her to order whatever she wanted and I might pick. So we got some saffron rice (which surprisingly lacked flavor) and some butter chicken. The chicken was drowned in a bright red sauce with white cream dressed on top. Though it was a little spicy, the flavor was really nice. I would order it again. I did it. I went to an Indian restaurant, I ordered off the menu, I ate and I liked. I should add this to my list just so I can cross it off.

This week we will be meeting some friends at one of Mario Batali’s restaurants. We were a part of Make Your Own Pizza Night at their house last weekend, which was fantastic. We enjoyed a gorgeous night on their rooftop terrace and grilled pizzas in their smoker. We had grilled chicken, bacon and spinach pizza and pepperoni pizza with the meat brought fresh from the U.S. (we cannot get real pepperoni here). It had to be the best pizza on the island. 

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