Chocolate-Toffee Cookie

I've been stuck at home the whole weekend, or more accurately, I've been bound to my laptop because once in a while I'd receive an sms asking me to check my email as soon as possible. It's no fun, so I'm glad this won't last for long.

Given lemons, we should make some tangy, refreshing and spunky lemonade. Given bittergourd, we should stir-fry them with deliciously salty black bean sauce and pork ribs until meltingly soft. So I stopped whining about not being able to visit my favourite shopping haunts, and did something I had not done in a while - bake.

As easy as 1, 2, 3, 4.

Epicurious recently did an article about their most popular recipes on their website. Among a Three-Cheese Fondue with Champagne, Creme Brulee French Toast, and a Double Chocolate Layer Cake was a Giant Chocolate-Toffee Cookie that looked like all the elements of a great chocolate cookie rolled (or in this case, baked) into one.

Thinking it'd be a great idea to bring a big jar of chocolate cookies to work to help everyone cope with the Monday blues, I went out to buy some chocolate-coated toffee bars and eggs. When I settled into the whisking, stirring, scraping and chopping in my kitchen, I was reminded how much I really enjoy baking, cooking, preparing food. I literally stood in front of my oven, unable to peel my eyes away from the beautifully bubbling batter.

True enough, all elements of a great chocolate cookie - chewy, intensely chocolate-y and yummiliciously rich. Not to mention that these are not difficult to bake, and do not require any fancy equipment or ingredients.

I think I could get used to this. Not that I want to get stuck at home during the weekends, virtually chained to my laptop. But if this ever happens again, I know just the thing to do to help ease my pain.

Kim Bak Soon

If not for my younger cousin who has a liking for all things Korean, and has just returned from an exchange programme in Seoul, I would never have thought of preparing kimchi (Korean appetisers usually served in tiny portions at the beginning of every meal) or anything from that land of abusive girlfriends and chauvinistic men.


Like a fish out of water, I scrutinised every item on the shelves in the Korean mini-mart baffled by the unfamiliar strokes, trying to find for Jajangmyeon noodles and other things like Shin Kimchi or the hot, red pepper powder that I'm certain has another tongue-twisting Korean name for it.

Surprisingly however, the preparation in the kitchen is not as complicating as shopping for the ingredients. It was terribly easy once all the ingredients were at hand. To make Bak Choi Kimchi it was just a matter of soaking the vegetables in brine and rinsing it before mixing it with the homemade Kimchi paste that was put together in a flash the blender. Other Kimchi-s such as the Poggi Kimchi (Napa cabbage) or the Kaktugi (Radish) followed almost the same steps.


Making the Kimchi Jeon (Kimchi pancake) or Pa Jeon (Seafood pancake) was even more brainless. Flour, egg, water, whisk, add filling, fry! According to my little cousin, only the most sour type of Kimchi that is generally used for cooking and not eating (very much like cooking chocolate vs. eating chocolate) should be used for the Kimchi Jeon. Unfortunately there was no Shin Kimchi in the mini-mart, but I settled for what the store owner pointed to as the more sour version of all the kimchi-s she had.


Our Kimchi Jeon turning out hilariously thick as I had poured too much batter into the tiny frying pan, resulting in it having nowhere else to run but upwards. But it was still incredibly tasty and satisfying. The kimchi provided enough saltiness to allow it to subsist without the usual accompaniment of light soy sauce.










Being adventurous and perhaps overly ambitious, we also made JaJangMyeon (Zha Jiang Mian, Black Bean Paste Noodles) and rice balls using recipes from my latest cookbook purchase: 'Discovering Korean Cuisine - Recipes from the Best Korean Restaurants in LA'. We also made pork nuggets using a recipe my cousin picked up from Seoul.


The following morning I decided I'd use some leftover cooked crabmeat to make a Pa Jeon. I added sliced squid rings and fresh prawns and attained a more delicate tasting pancake whose flavours were accentuated with a touch of light soy sauce.


If I had known it'd be so easy, I would have started much, much earlier. Of course, now the problem would be figuring out which of the 20 varieties of roasted, seasoned seaweed staring at me blankly in the mini-mart the recipe is asking for! And if I can single-handedly finish all the kimchi my cousin and I made that is now sitting pretty in huge containers in the fridge, I will turn into what my brother calls 'Kim Bak Soon'. Very bak (meaty) indeed. If anyone would like to challenge how one can get bak purely on vegetables alone, one look at my perfectly rotund bunny who eats hay, hay and more hay, should put an end to that conversation.

Chinese Take-outs

Ironically, but perhaps unsurprisingly, when I saw these tres cute Chinese take-out boxes, it reminded me more of America than of China. The first time I saw these was on an American television programme, thanks to globalisation, where a fair-skinned, pale-haired couple was eating noodles clumsily with a pair of wooden chopsticks.

Ever since I spotted them at 'Baguette' at Raffles City Shopping Centre (they use it for their salad takeaways), I have been hunting them down. Lo and behold, where else would I spot it but at Spotlight, the one-stop place for arts and craft that also stocks random home-ware.

It was also extremely timely and felicitous that I spotted them just a day before a scheduled American-Diner-themed potluck party with a couple of friends who studied or have visited America at some point or another. They had no problems coming up with items to bring, we had gherkins, burgers, tater tots, crinkle-cut fries, coleslaw, pancakes, milkshakes... the works.

And because I don't like sending people home empty-handed, I decided to get the take-out boxes to use as a simple packaging for some cookies. Or more specifically, homemade Butter Shortbread Cookies made with love and vanilla beans that imparted delicious scent and flavour. I spiked half of the batch with lemon essence and a touch of cinnamon, while I added dried cranberries and raisins to the other half batch.

I used to have to take a whole day just to fill up my cookie jar. Well I bet you would too if you were using a tiny convection oven, that doubled up as a microwave oven, too small to bake more than 6 muffins or a batch of 9 cookies at one time. Agonising would be too mild a word to use and everytime I baked cookies they were truly a labour of love. More labour than love though. Thankfully a built-in convection oven solved all that. I can now bake 2 sheets of cookies at one go, each holding up to 40 cookies each.

And so within just two hours, after placing the big bowl of coleslaw in the chiller and putting a lid on the saucepan of freshly made barbeque sauce, I had about 100 shortbread cookies filling the home with the irresistible aroma of butter and cinnamon.

Ever since my alma mater - SCGS - introduced me to the wonderful world of baking with cheese twists and scones, I have baked countless cookies using countless recipes. And only a handful of these cookies have stood out, for their amazing crumbly texture, their oat-ful chewiness (even if they don't look appetising at all), their incredibly nutty flavour, or simply for how cute they look.

What this cookie stands out for is in its slight touch of saltiness, that while may sound odd, definitely tastes unique. But not unique the way one would usually say, 'Hmmm, this Fennel Cheesecake certainly tastes... *gag*... unique.' On the contrary, the mildly perceptible saltiness of the cookies seemed to help accentuate the lemon essence and the amazing vanilla.

Admittedly, the cookies are more crunchy than melt-in-your-mouth crumbly, the way I expect shortbread cookies to be. I would lower the temperature a little in future and bake them only until the very moment their edges turn sun-kissed. But I'm sure that even if the cookies had turned out rock hard, my friends would have appreciated the gesture. Who can resist such cute Chinese take-out boxes?!

Click here for Ming Tsai's recipe on Epicurious, for the Butter Shortbread Cookies.

D.I.Y.

I'm so terribly ashamed of myself. That for as long as I have not blogged, I have not touched a pan, or a whisk. Nor the pale yellow skin of a bulb of fresh, raw garlic. Or heard the sizzle of the garlic as it touches gently heated olive oil.

In the past few weeks, when people talked about food, my eyes didn't sparkle the way they usually would have. Even more blasphemous, I caught myself, on multiple occasions during lunch, buying a tuna sandwich that was evidently hastily put together a good 4 hours ago, rather than queueing up for a delicious bowl of Wanton Noodles at the store next door. Of course, that tuna sandwich would not be able to fill me up, and I would resort to crackers or biscuits at half-hourly intervals.

Each weekend was burnt paying back my sleep debt that I had accumulated at an alarming rate through the week. I spent my few waking hours putting some food into my tummy just so that I would not be disturbed by a growling tummy while I was asleep.

I wasn't sulking my days away of course, but I must admit rather embarrassingly that my kitchen apron has been very much neglected. Of course, this blog included.

I have however, much fodder to last me a couple of blog entries to come, just simply no time to blog about it. And so it is, that I am at my desk now, taking a much needed break while waiting for my bosses to reply my emails, blogging about homemade ricotta cheese.

Making cheese is possibly among the ranks of making ice-cream for most people - incredulously impossible. Yet both are, like the violin or the guitar, so deceptively simple to pick up, though perhaps difficult to master. While I approached the recipe that I had spotted in Donna Hay's magazine on making my own ricotta cheese with much trepidation, I am extremely delighted to report that it is incredibly simple.

My friends who had arrived early for a party, were eager beavers and asked to help. So they got into an assembly line to dish out little table water crackers of homemade ricotta cheese, oven roasted tomatoes soaked in olive oil (yes, the same ones from the previous post), diced ham and parsley. Season and serve, tres simple.

It helped that the ricotta cheese could be made up to a week in advance so I didn't have to worry about the ricotta cheese draining in time for the finger food to be served. A word of warning however, is that starting out with just a little milk will yield a pathetically measley portion of ricotta cheese. So be daring and just pour the whole darned carton of fresh milk in!

Ricotta

Makes 1 1/4 cups (287g)

Donna Hay Issue 35

Ingredients

6 cups (48 fl oz) full cream milk

2 tbspns white vinegar

Method

Place milk and a candy thermometer in a saucepan over medium heat and heat to 80 degrees celcius.

Remove from heat, add vinegar and allow to sit for 5 minutes or until curds form.

Line a colander with fine muslin and place over a deep bowl.

Use a slotted spoon to carefully spoon the curds into the colander.*

Allow to drain for 5 minutes.

(I improvised with some coffee machine filter paper instead.)

Spoon the ricotta into a glass or ceramic dish and loosely cover with plastic wrap.

Store in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

* The reason the curds need to be carefully spooned is to ensure they hold their shape. Pouring the curds straight into the colander will result in the cheese becoming dry and grainy.

These are a few of my favourite things...

Before I left Singapore to study in UK for 3 years, I was a big fan of bread. Bread in sandwiches, croutons in salads, old bread in bread pudding, thinly sliced and toasted bread in crostinis etc...... I would gladly choose to dine in delicatessens over the restaurant next door or try the famous wanton noodles at the hawker centre down the road.

That I had forgotten my roots, was not an uncommon accusation tossed my way by friends who have been victim to my sandwich-craze. Foccacia, ciabatta, wholewheat, walnut, spinach and cheese, rye, oatmeal, multi-grain; ham, roast beef, slow-braised pork, pulled pork, roast chicken, pan-fried prawns, roasted vegetables; onion marmalade, wasabi aioli, avocado puree, mustard, tartare sauce, curried mayonnaise; iceberg lettuce, rocket, spinach, cucumber slices etc...... all the permutations and combinations were mind-boggling and extremely exciting.

Of course, all this was until I went to UK, the land of roast beef, yorkshire puddings, baked potatoes and sandwiches. For the first couple of weeks of course, I was over the moon with the variety of sandwiches there. But as you can imagine, I slowly got sick and tired of it all and started craving for Laksa, Mee Hoon Kuay, Ice Kacang and Muah Chee, among other things.

So when I came back home each holiday, I would not waste much time satisfying all my cravings, eating ONLY local grub for each meal.

Now that I've been back for a year and a half, I guess I'm no longer reeling from the thought of eating sandwiches for lunch anymore, and have started loving the smell of freshly baked bread again. I know I've recovered entirely when I walk into Culina at Dempsey, spot a gorgeous hunk of sundried tomato foccacia and grab it without a moment's hesitation.

I also got some camembert cheese from Culina to go with it. Now I don't like strong cheeses, and camembert falls into that category for me. But a life-changing experience with a truffle-infused camembert cheese during one of my visits to my aunt in Paris made me a different person. While I've been hunting for it in Singapore ever since, I've never gotten lucky. But combining a dollop of Tetsuya's black-truffle salsa (also from Culina) with some soft camembert cheese is as good as it gets.

With a scarily overwhelming stock of leftover ham from all the Christmas feasting, I took the opportunity to create a little supper platter by combining a few of my favourite things - black-truffle salsa with camembert cheese, a couple of slices of comforting ham, a small portion of leftover oven roasted cherry tomatoes kept in mandarin-orange infused olive oil, and a chunk of that flavourful sundried tomato foccacia bread.

I don't think I could have felt any happier enjoying every single morsel on that platter. It was a great post-christmas moment, and wrapped up my Christmas beautifully.

The Wow Factor for Christmas

Some of you might be planning a dinner party for Christmas Day or Christmas Eve. Depending on how involved your other courses are, you might not intend for an elaborate dessert. Though understandable, since desserts are usually more fiddly and requires more precise measurements, I still try my best to make the dessert shine. Partly because I have a really sweet tooth, but also because being the last item of the night, it helps end the meal on a spectacularly high note.


So when I chance upon desserts which look like I took more time than I really spent to prepare it, I make sure I flag the pages with my bright yellow post-its that scream 'Make me again! Make me again!'





For the Christmas dinner that I spoke about in my previous post, I prepared 2 desserts. A Coffee Syrup Panna Cotta as well as a Pressed-Crust Apple Tart. The great thing about the Panna Cotta is that it can be made a day ahead, leaving you plenty of time to worry about other stuff like how the napkins don't really match the table cloth or how the centrepiece of the table could do with a few more candles.

The latter dessert is really a cheater's way out of making a tart. It doesn't exactly taste like a tart as the texture is more like a cake. It does however look like a tart, except the three components (crust, pastry cream, topping) are missing. Positively speaking, that means you don't have to make three different items just for one course! It's also gorgeous to look at, especially if you have a couple of those marvellous mini tart pans or beautiful rectangular tart pans to use.

It's really easy since it only requires a simple creamed batter that you spread in the tart pan, and some apples, peeled, cored and sliced into 1/6 segments. The batter will puff up beautifully in the welcoming warmth of the oven, while the apples will yield to the warmth and soften into tender chunks.

If you're looking for a dessert recipe that will wow your guests, yet you don't want something as time consuming as the tiny shots of Coffee Syrup Panna Cotta, this Pressed-Crust Apple Tart aka Cheater's Apple Tart would be it for you. And when you hear the moans of pleasure from your guests, you'll probably never look at baking desserts with the same phobia again.

This recipe is slightly adapted from "Real Simple", one of my favourite magazines. It calls for peeled, cored and halved pears and they do look fantastic when presented with halved pears. Unfortunately, the only pears I could find were humungous conference pears that were too big for my tart pan, and which I eventually used for the jams instead.

If you however, cannot be arsed about how your dessert looks as long as your guests enjoy it, I've earmarked another recipe that I know never fail to please the palate. Jane Lawson's Cocina Nueva has a great, moist and tasty recipe for an Almond Cake that I've used time and again, and that keeps extremely well. Though, I must admit I always use either another variety of nut to replace the almond, or add another nut to the recipe. The combination of almond and peanut worked well the first time I used the recipe. I recently attempted the recipe again, and used almost equal portions of ground peanut and hazelnut, and whaddaya know, I had a mooncake-cake that wasn't a mooncake! It's really amazing.

Pressed-Crust Apple Tart

Adapted from Real Simple, Nov 2007

Ingredients

1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temp

1 cup all purpose flour

1/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 cup sugar, plus 1 1/2 tbspns

1 large egg

2 apples, peeled, cored and cut into sixths each

1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon

1/4 cup apricot jam (I used the homemade Spiced Pear Jam)

1 tbspn fresh lemon juice

whipped cream (optional)

Special equipment: 14 inch rectangular tart pan

Method

Combine flour and baking powder in medium bowl, set aside.

Cream butter and 1/2 cup sugar at high speed in large bowl of electric mixer.

Lower speed to medium, add egg and beat until incorporated.

Gradually add flour mixture until fully incorporated - dough will be very soft (almost like tomato paste).

Push (or in my case, spread) dough into the pan to form an even crust.

Arrange apples on top, sprinkle with cinnamon and remaining sugar.

Bake in a buttered tart pan in oven at 180 degrees celcius (350 degrees farenheit).

Bake until crust is golden brown, about 45 mins.

Let cool.

Heat jam and lemon juice in a small saucepan over medium-low heat, mixing until combined.

Remove from heat and brush gently over the entire tart.

Serve with the whipped cream, if desired.

Gift from the heart

Oogling over the gift guide over at CH's, I've already picked out a couple of items to get as presents for myself since I've been an obedient girl (for most part of) this year. Some, especially a certain pale blue beauty featured in the post, require a great deal of saving up for. For the not-so-well-endowed, the spatula, plastic cocktail shaker, teastick, teas and the books would make great gifts for foodies like me *hint*.

Among the range of books, I had a chance to get my hands on San San's book - Ashley. I scanned through the book really briefly at first, as I was concurrently trying to sustain a conversation without being too rudely distracted. With the little snippets of what I caught, it seemed like a pretty touching story. When I slowly thumbed through the pages during a leisurely bus ride later on, there was little I could do to stop my tears. It may not be as festive as Christmas gifts usually are, but it is most meaningful. If you'd like to get a copy for yourself, please email San San at bookashley@gmail.com.

Meaningful gifts come in many forms. Through a book with a simple but great message. Through the Black Cocktail Shaker you know your friend has been eyeing. Or through a beautifully quaint and extremely fragile perfume bottle that comes with a scent that you think matches her personality best.

But if you're really dry on inspiration, nothing says 'I'm glad to have you as a friend' like a simple homemade gift.

I had a simple Christmas gathering yesterday, where I invited a big bunch of friends over to my place and prepared a buffet spread. As little take home gifts, I decide to prepare some Spiced Conference Pear Jam that seemed suitable for the occasion. These Conference Pears I bought in Cold Storage were astoundingly huge, juicy and sweet.

My usual partner-in-crime, Addy, came over to help out and it was the first thing we got started on. 6 big pears yielded about 1800ml of jam. Using a ratio of 1 (sugar): 2 (fruit), and some lemon juice (I added the juice of 1 lemon in total) I threw the sugar into a big, heavy pot together with the lemon juice and the peeled, cored and roughly chopped fruit. After boiling and slow simmering with some added spices (cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg), I added about a tablespoon of gelatine for good measure. It was taken off the heat when the concoction turned slightly syrupy, but the jam could probably afford a little more gelatine for something more firm. Once the jam cooled, they were poured into clean glass jars and tied with ribbons.

Seeing their faces as I handed out the little bottles of pear jam was priceless. Even if the jam/cookie/muffin/cupcake doesn't turn out well, present it anyway and I'm sure the gesture would be appreciated.

At the very least, they would say 'I may not know how to make cupcakes, but for you my dear friend, I tried.'

The Whirlwind of Insanity

Claypot Fishhead at Bukit Timah Market

This picture sort of says it all. A little crazy and a ton of damn good food, is how I would describe the last 2 weeks when Stella visited. My roomie in my third year of Uni and the one who shared much of my joy, and brought me so much comfort when I was down. When she decided to visit 2 months ago, I was over the moon!

I had been busy in the weeks leading up to her arrival but took the spare minutes in bus rides on the way to work or on the way home, to plan for places I had to bring her to. Over lunches and dinners with friends or colleagues, I would also consult them and seek their suggestions to make sure I would not leave out any part of Singapore.

From the touristy - Duck Tour, Hippo Tour, Esplanade, Geylang, Chinatown, to the less popular - Bukit Timah Market, Haji Lane, we walked and walked and walked. It helped keep the spare pounds at bay, but also meant that at the end of each day, Stella and I were thoroughly worn out.

Unfortunately, we still didn't get to visit some places. The National Museum, Dempsey Road, St. James, and most unfortunately, the DHL balloon. By the time I got my hands on the tickets, it rained every other day! Perhaps it was a blessing since she did have a height phobia ( you should have seen her clinging to my arm going up escalators in big shopping malls like Central Mall and Wisma Atria).

Thankfully though, she enjoyed her time here. As long as there was a constant supply of Ice Kacang, she was happy. After the countless orders of Ice Kacang at various places, we're convinced that one of the best servings of Ice Kacang can be gotten from one of the most unlikely places - Bukit Panjang Plaza. They're generous with their ingredients and do not add anything fancy or unnecessary, unlike the equivalents of Ice Kacang that we had in KL that oddly included peanuts. Plus, we both love red bean and the extra dollop of red bean on top was a big bonus.

Everynight, we'd shower immediately after reaching home and turn on our laptops to upload photos, relive the day, and laugh about things happening in Facebook. We'd turn in late, wake up relatively early and plan the rest of the day according to the weather. Very unsurprisingly, I planned our menu first, then let that dictate where we would end up.

I also arranged for old friends from Warwick to meet her as well, and a regular during these gatherings was Fel of course. She was the perennial fellow potluck-er at Warwick and a bundle of joy.

During one felicitous night, my brother joined us for dinner at Brewerkz over ribs and salad (the Soba Noodle Salad is tremendously yummy and you haven't lived till you tried it). I loved how things worked out that night, and the chemistry that flowed around the table. My brother, being his usual comic self, was entertaining. Having three people I adore and love so much sharing a meal together was a mind-blowing experience. It felt surreal and I couldn't have asked for more.

Now Stella has left and gone home. The send off at the airport was, fortunately, not a tearful one. As usual, Fel was there with her laughter and jokes to lighten the mood and make her departure a happy one. But I cannot help missing her oodles.

Her smell still lingers in my room, and I've pinned down the smell to the moisturizer she slathers onto her skin generously. She also left that moisturizer behind, among other things, to make space in her luggage. Yes, she bought THAT much.

She also left behind many thoughtful gifts for my family and I. I wish I could have taken the sight of my bed the first night she arrived and unpacked her luggage, half of which was of gifts which I unwrapped on my bed. A beautiful handsewn tablecloth with matching napkins, a cookbook from Mauritius (Thank You Aunty!), a container full of tiny green chillis, and my favourite, 4 packs of tapioca biscuits in Milk, Custard and Coconut flavours.

She brought these biscuits from Mauritius back to Warwick after one summer holiday and I fell in love. They were incredibly dry, like Weetabix, and just the way I like it. I was touched that she never forgot that and brought me not one, nor two, but four packs of that lovely stuff. I resolved to ration this stash, to last me for at least a couple of months. But tough luck. She has been gone for less than a week and half of it is gone! Ah, what determination or lack thereof.

The many days of leave I took to spend with her was worth it down to the minute. It was such a good break and now I'm reeling from the many emails that greeted me when I returned to work. Already, I cannot wait to visit her in Mauritius. I also cannot wait to try the recipes in the cookbook her mum got for me! Stella! Wait for me! I will be there one day!

A Hiatus Haiku

She's in Singapore,

And I've taken a week's leave!

Need I explain more?

Mourning for the Turkey

When a couple of old friends came together to throw me a surprise birthday party at a cool flower-themed cafe, I was elated and thoroughly touched. At that very dinner, we made a date to celebrate Thanksgiving together just because. It was a convenient excuse to massacre a turkey, subject it to long periods of gentle heat, drown it with huge scoops of gravy and stuff ourselves with big forkfuls of the white/red meat as well as the accompanying stuffing, green bean casserole and salad.



Of course, one cannot forget the Pecan (Pee-ken, Per-con, Pee-kan) and Pumpkin Pies. To show how grateful I was for the surprise birthday dinner, I volunteered my home and to prepare the turkey, which would be the gargantuan task for the dinner.

Believe me, I was apprehensive right from the moment the words 'I'll do the turkey!' (which sounds really iffy in fact) left my lips. I was more apprehensive when I saw the big frozen Butterball Turkeys sitting in the freezer in Cold Storage. I was even MORE apprehensive when I plonked the defrosted, dripping turkey on my Mario Batali Pizza mat (a gift from my colleagues, and convenient for anything from dough to turkey!) and realised the real enormity of the bird.

But I kept my faith. All throughout slathering the bacon and sage butter in between the skin and the flesh of the turkey, I kept my faith. While fumbling with the twine that came with the turkey, to keep the thigh and wings in place, I kept my faith. While basting the bird with my big 'eye-dropper', I did so with tender loving care, believing that the more effort I put into the bird, the more it would reward me with a beautifully golden sheen.

Thankfully, all the hardwork paid off. As did the diligent flipping of the potatoes and parsnips that sat in all the terribly, sinfully, delicious drippings. It was a huge challenge, moving the turkey from the oven to the biggest plate I had. And thankfully, I had friends who knew how to carve the turkey efficiently while I fussed around the wines and water.

I was really worried that the turkey would end up dry, which it is notorious for. While being one of the healthiest meats, with the lowest calorie and fat count, the side effect for all that is usually tasteless meat. Brining the turkey from about 24-48 hours is known to resolve the dry-turkey, but I did not have the luxury of time for that, being too busy for the entire week before.

So the recipe I adapted from Epicurious (and no less), was one which also promised moist meat from the savoury butter sandwiched between the skin and the flesh of the turkey. I guess from all the rave reviews of the recipe, I was pretty confident that it wouldn't turn out half bad.

It certainly didn't turn out half bad, and was in fact really really good. This of course, has piqued greater interest in the entire brining process that supposedly yields even better turkey! With such a huge turkey, just a salad, a green bean casserole and a stuffing was all that was necessary to satiate everyone's hunger and palates.

I repeated this a couple of times throughout the night, and I'm going to state it here again: It felt so surreal discussing politics, Myanmar and the Shia Crescent in front of an exposed turkey bone. And perhaps I was getting high from all the white shiraz, beaujolais nouveau and chardonnay, but the more I looked at the naked carcass especially surrounded by the beautiful purple flowers, the more it resembled a funeral!

Of course, I brushed all those thoughts aside once the pumpkin and pecan pies emerged. The recipe for the pumpkin pie was also gotten from Epicurious. And despite a failed attempt, my friend admirably perservered! He was a little late, but I was truly touched. Faced with that situation, I believe I would have just copped out and run to the nearby bakery for a ready-made pie or cake. He kept to his word and didn't arrive without a homemade pumpkin pie in tow.

As the night wore on and the laughter got considerably louder, possibly from all the freely flowing wine, and as we debated about the proper pronunciation of PECAN, I couldn't help glowing with joy. It was a wonderful feeling of contentment. That very moment epitomised my motivation for hosting dinner parties. Admittedly, these can be tiring, depending on how challenging the menu is, and whether it is a potluck or entirely cooked from scratch.

But listening to concurrent conversations over the dinner table and watching plates of food get passed around, knowing that people are comfortable and happily full - few other occasions can beat this.

A Shoulder of Lamb

Other than the big four - Chicken, Duck, Beef and Pork, I've hardly tried cooking any other meats. So when I go to the market, I hesitate approaching mutton and lamb sellers for fear of getting cheated. I can't tell my mutton from my lamb and looking rather inexperienced, I won't be surprised if I've already been fleeced of a tidy sum of money. I've stopped going to the market for lamb or mutton, more because I'm a little paranoid about how the meat had been treated than being worried about my purse strings.


So I look elsewhere for my lamb. Green Grocer of course had a variety of cuts. Maybe it is because I have a penchant for all things very small (yes, certain parts of me could afford to be smaller too), among the variety of meats and cuts, I was lured to the mini lamb shoulder roasts. However, seeing how it was pre-marinated, I opted for the Grain-fed Lamb Shoulder Roast instead. If I was going to roast a lamb, I wanted to do it properly without cutting any corners. The pre-marinated version would come in handy for lazy days, but then again if I'm lazy I'm unlikely to even bother popping the lamb into the oven for about an hour, which is how long mine took me.

While diligently researching for a reliable way of cooking the lamb shoulder, I must admit I contemplated using it for another recipe that didn't call for lamb shoulder, until I felicitously spotted a recipe in Damien Pignolet's French. It used easily accessible ingredients and wasn't at all fussy. While time consuming, all the time is just in the waiting. Between popping the lamb shoulder in and until the lamb was medium done, I had sufficient time to prepare a whole pot of veal stock (which of course also required little effort), and slowly concoct an Asian salad dressing just because I was feeling inspired.

I used to shy away from preparing lamb using any method other than stewing simply because I felt that achieving the perfect doneness would be a huge challenge. The traditional press-test is not the most reliable (I really think I have artificially tough palm flesh, being a tennis player) and it is almost impossible trying to determine how pink the juices of the lamb is against the very unhelpful grey background of my roasting pan.

But armed with my meat thermometer, I felt invincible! It was simply a matter of sticking the tip into the thickest part of the meat and watching the needle steadily creep up to 70 degrees celcius. And for anybody trying to roast a lamb for the first time, this recipe would be as good as any to start with. The caramelised garlic was mushily sweet, while the chopped parsley was a refreshing interlude amidst mouthfuls of gamey lamb.

As the Grain-fed Lamb Shoulder from Green Grocer came wrapped in some elastic-twine netting, I just had to slip it off for the stuffing, then reuse the netting for the cooking process. It certainly saved me the hassle of buying twine. So if you have twine and a meat thermometer, you're already two-thirds of the journey towards a delicious Roasted Lamb Shoulder stuffed with Garlic and Parsley.

Roast Lamb Shoulder with Confit Garlic, Parsley and Herbes de Provence
From Damien Pignolet’s French
Serves 4 Yuan Family Members or 6-8 normal appetites

Ingredients
15 cloves garlic, unpeeled
Olive oil
4 bunches curly-leaf parsley, leaves plucked and washed
2 boned shoulders of lamb, without necks – about 450g each
salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tsps herbs de Provence
300ml chicken stock or water (I used veal stock)
½ bunch curly-leaf parsley, finely chopped

Method
Put unpeeled garlic into small saucepan, adding enough olive oil to cover and slowly heat, using a thermometer to check the temperature: try to maintain oil at 70 degrees celcius (I think 60-65 would be sufficient) until the garlic is soft, about 30-40 mins.

It is important that they do not begin to fry. Set aside. When cool, drain and peel the garlic, reserving the oil [which may be used within 2 days for sautéing potatoes].

Blanch the parsley leaves in boiling salted water for a few minutes until soft. Drain and refresh in cold water then squeeze dry and chop roughly. Set aside.

Lay the lamb shoulders skin-side down on a bench. Scatter lightly with salt, pepper and herbs. Distribute the garlic cloves and parsley between the shoulders and roll up each into a neat sausage shape, securing with twine at 3cm intervals.

Preheat oven to 130 degress celcius. Heat 2 tbspns olive oil in a roasting tin and brown the seasoned shoulders over moderate heat then remove. Discard the fat in the pan, place a roasting/cake rack inside then put the lamb shoulders on top. Transfer to the oven and pour the stock into the tin.

Roast for about 1.5 hours or until the juices run faintly pink (or like in my case, until a meat thermometer inserted into the thickest section reads 70 degrees celcius). Check occasionally and add a little water if the stock has evaporated. Transfer to the warmed platter, loosely cover with foil and allow to rest for 20 mins (I skipped this step and nothing major happened).

Strain the stock into a small saucepan and bring to simmer, skimming to remove the fat. Remove the twine from the lamb and carve into 5mm-thick slices across the width of the shoulders.

To serve, moisten the meat with a little stock and scatter with the chopped parsley.

Online Green Grocers

Some time back, Chubby Hubby had posted a shout-out calling for people who wanted to be the first to try new things in the food scene. I didn't even have time to think before I found myself composing an email to him voluntering myself for it.

Then last month, I received a very exciting email followed by 3 $50 vouchers to spend at Greengrocer. Within minutes of opening my mail, I went online to browse through the online grocery store. And within seconds, I was sending the link to a couple of my closer friends who would understand that I get easily excited by good quality tinned crabmeat (think of all the effort and time saved), fresh oysters, frozen scallops (I know, I know, but where else for the good stuff with roe?), veal bones, lamb shoulder...... you get the drift.


As there was a $30 delivery charge for purchases below $150, I had to use up all the credits at once. So I planned for a big, indulgent dinner and what better day than my dad's birthday? Being a big fan of seafood and red meat, choosing what to buy for my dad should have been pretty easy but it wasn't as there was too much variety!

One of the easier choices though was the oyster. I went straight for the largest - 105mm, which was really huge. I forgot that I had greedily ordered 2 dozen, so when the package arrived with ice-packs and all, I had to struggle for a while, making space in the fridge and making sure every single one of them fit into the chiller.

I bought an oyster knife from pantry magic just for the occasion, did my fair bit of research on the best way to shuck an oyster, then passed on the knowledge AND the oyster knife to my brother to work through all 24 oysters. So that part was easy.

Initially, he took a fair amount of time shucking just one oyster but slowly got the hang of it and managed the rest with little mess. He got increasingly excited the quicker he pried open each oyster, declaring that we had to have an oyster party just for the cousins whom we could picture enjoying every minute shucking the oysters to unveil each glorious jewel.

I had planned for the oysters to be done 4 ways. One was served neat, with nothing but its own creamy juices and the taste of the sea. Two were served with lime granita, that was time consuming but incredibly easy to make and yielded amazing results. I got this idea from Anderson Ho's Menu Degustation and it has officially become my favourite way of eating fresh oysters.

The ultimate for me used to be a Virgin Mary Oyster Shooter (pictured above in foreground) - a combination of tomato juice, tabasco sauce, worcesterchire sauce, lemon juice and salt. But the Kalamansi lime granita was sweet, tangy and tres refreshing. When paired with the plump, creamy oyster, it was a wonderful harmony of flavours and textures.

I decided to have deep-fried oysters as well, even though I'm usually averse to deep-frying, not just because it makes my entire kitchen slippery as hell, but also because it wastes a ton of oil. But I decided I need more diversity and smoking my own oysters would have to be a whole new project for another time. Flipping through The Cook's Book, I spotted a Japanese Beer Batter from Hisayuki Takeuchui, that looked perfect for the job. The recipe was for prawn tempura, but it looked like it could be easily used for oysters too. The batter was simple enough and just needed a Japanese beer, such as Asahi, an egg and a little sifted flour.

My brother, not a big fan of raw oysters, understandably enjoyed this the most. I sprinkled a little of Tetsuya's Truffle Salt that I got from Culina after comtemplating using matcha salt instead. The oysters were cooked just long enough to still be soft under the light and crisp batter. I didn't need to time the deep-frying as once the batter started to brown, the oysters were just about done. It did not shrivel down into miniscule pieces of overcooked oysters encased in a crisp brown shell, and instead remained succulent beneath the fried batter where there was a perceptible presence of fermentation and yeast.

Although you think I would have learnt my lesson by now, after the many dinners I've hosted, I still have plenty of room for improvement when it comes to planning for them. For example, I had not decided what the exact menu would be on the day of the dinner itself. I just knew my fridge was well stocked with exciting ingredients for me to play around with.

One of which was the tinned crabmeat. Okay, I can already hear some of you muttering words of disagreement. How could I even stoop so low as to resort to canned crabmeat? That'd be like saying that canned salmon is as good as the real stuff. But have you ever tried killing your own crab, steaming it and extracting the flesh? It takes too much time, effort and needs more than a pair of hands. Plus, I NEEDED to spend that $150 at GreenGrocer anyway.

When the crab cakes were put together in a flash and left to sit in the fridge until it was ready to be deep-fried and served, I couldn't stop patting myself on the back for the decision well made. The crabmeat may not have been the freshest, but these were decent looking chunks of crab claw meat that were sufficient for the crabcakes.

I referred to Chubby Hubby's recent post on crab cakes, for the recipe by Teage Ezard in Lotus. It was a sound recipe, except I made extra-large ones for each of us and dipped them in flour, egg and panko crumbs before deep-frying for that extra crunch. He was right when he said that they compact and firm like Thai Fishcakes. I would actually prefer something more fluffy and may tweak the recipe a little in future. Still, served with an avocado sauce made from avocado puree, yogurt and lemon juice, the huge crab cakes were very satisfying.

I served the crab cakes with a pair of scallops. One was simply wrapped in bacon before being pan-fried, while the other was seared and placed on a spoonful of homemade onion jam. Scallops are probably the simplest dishes to prepare, easy to perfect with just some careful watching over. Now if only we could get some proper, fresh scallops. A colleague shared with me how she tried fresh scallops at a discreet Japanese eatery at one of the coasts along Australia (Melbourne?) and never looked back.

The last exciting item of the day was the wagyu beef, cubed. When I saw the beautiful marbling I was enthralled and couldn't stop thinking of what to do with it. The fastest way, of course, to find for a recipe involving any random ingredient you have, is to search for it on the internet. For this, I always consult Epicurious not just because it is easy to navigate but also because they have priceless reviews from other users who have tried the recipe before. I can then gauge how much risk I would be taking by using the recipe.


I thought I would take advantage of their cube-shape to make baby kebabs. So the Grilled Steak Kebabs with Orange and Hoisin Glaze from Epicurious really came in handy. I simply replaced the sliced oranges with halved kumquats, and replaced the frozen orange concentrate with some simmered orange juice. The ridiculously simple marinade complemented the deliciously fatty beef cubes and the wonderful meaty smell hung in the air long after dinner. Reminiscing about that smell, I think it's something I actually wouldn't mind having in my home all the time.


My family still talks about THOSE oysters. They were tremendously good and unbelievably reasonable, so much so that we're thinking of getting another batch to share with our relatives for Christmas. And for that, I doubt $150 worth of oysters would be sufficient. My cousins will definitely have a ball of a time shucking their own oysters. The only problem is that they don't deliver on weekends, so if our Christmas gathering falls on a weekend I'm going to have to figure out how to stuff 100 oysters into my tiny fridge and keep them alive for 2 whole days!

Lime Granita

Adapted from Anderson Ho's Menu Degustation

Ingredients

150ml water

75g sugar

150ml Kalamansi Lime Juice

Method

Add sugar to boiling water and stir until sugar dissolves then leave to cool to room temperature.

Add 150ml of sugar syrup to lime juice, stir and pour into a shallow dish (I used a shallow Pyrex glass dish).

Place in freezer, scraping the surface every hour until a homogeneously fluffy consistency is achieved. (Allow at least 3 rounds of fluffing for best results)

Peas In A Pod

For late night snacks when hunger creeps up and when I know it'll be a while before I can snuggle into my sheets, there are a couple of things I resort to. Yogurt with muesli; milk with cereal; fruit; almond biscuits; trail mix of assorted nuts and dried fruits; spoonfuls of P&J (when I get supremely desperate); unsuspecting packets of chips lying around; weetabix, dry; instant noodles; baked beans straight from the can (I know, I know) etc......

Believe me, it gets worse.

A couple of weeks ago (or more, time passes too quickly when there's plenty of work to do), I had an amazing lunch at Tampopo, a great ramen place within Liang Court, with my colleagues. We then trooped around Meidi-ya for a spot of shopping. We didn't end up with much except for a packet of yummy chocolate wafer snack. However, I had a eureka-moment when we passed by the frozen goods section. D mentioned that she loved Edamame especially as a snack at night.

I don't know why, but I never looked at Edamame that way before. I had packet stashed in my freezer from a Japanese dinner long ago, and we all know that the freezer is this miracle box that's cold and immortalises food, which means that they were/are still perfect for consumption. Edamame had always been a prelude to something better - a cheap sushi feast at Sushi Tei/Sakae Sushi or a luxurious multi-course Japanese dinner that would span a few hours with some great company.

So when I put the kettle on, and a pot over fire, taking my packet of frozen edamame out at 1130pm last night, I was worried that my body, by conditioned reflex, would feel even hungrier and expect something more after that. In my worry, I guess I might have grabbed an additional handful (or two) of edamame to pop into the boiling water.

3 minutes passed, I strained the beans and dunked them into some ice cold water to speed up the chilling period as well as to regain their grass-green beauty. Evidently, they didn't require much time from start to finish. I crumbled a pinch of Maldon Sea Salt all over, being certain that the beans would get a much needed boost from their oceanic friends.

Eventually, I realised my fears were unfounded. The beans were perfect on their own. They popped out easily from their pods and made for a guilt-free yet fulfilling snack. I lounged on my carpet with one of my favourite magazines, with holiday plans flooding my mine with beautiful imagery, enjoying my edamame with Moka running amok around me. For a brief moment, life was really perfect the way it was.

After my hunger was satiated, I rinsed my fingers in the bowl of lime-water and wiped them on my tea-towel, thinking to myself that there really wasn't anything more I could wish for.

Unfortunately (or not), Halloween is not very popular in Singapore. Other than a handful of themed parties at the more popular clubs and pubs, or a flourish of pumpkins, broomsticks and spider-web decorations at expat-heavy hangouts, the rest of Singapore lives in oblivion to this very fun celebration.

If I had more time, I would have had a Halloween themed party at my place, full of ghoulish treats and carved mini-pumpkins for decoration. It would have been such a blast surfing the net for inspiration.

The next best thing I could do was spent a couple of nights baking cookies to distribute during Halloween. I recently attended J's Cookie Decorating Class at Shermay's and that gave me plenty of confidence to try something on my own. Though these were nowhere as pretty as those I witnessed J making, they were a good start. I generally try to stay away from overly fiddly diddly stuff as I'm not particularly artistic nor nimble. But I could not resist putting what I learnt into practice.

I did spend quite a bit of time baking and decorating these lemon and orange cookies. I'm also casualty to horribly stained fingers as I'm not a particularly neat and careful cookie decorator. I desperately need to get myself some proper hardy disposable piping bags seeing how the makeshift ones I created out of normal plastic bags spontaneously burst a couple of times, spewing burgundy cream all over the cookies.

But all that effort, working way into the wee hours of the morning, was worth it when I went around the office the next day distributing the cookies to unsuspecting colleagues. Some even questioned when Halloween was, or whether those odd looking things were edible!

I really wished everyone would get into the mood and allow Halloween costumes for work, trick or treating each other's division. That would be amazing fun, but it'd probably take a million ghoul years to realise (read: never).

Almost Quarter of a Century later...

It is no secret that I am biased towards non-local/Asian food, whether I am thinking about what to cook, or which restaurant to visit. I have to qualify that when it comes to eating out, this bias only applies to those days when the wallet is a little fatter and a special occasion warrants a generous palate-pampering. This is typically because GREAT Asian/local food is available in such abundance, at reasonably high quality, and at ridiculously low prices at some nearby coffeeshop or hawker centre. Paying premium prices for something I can get at a fraction of the price at a similar, if not better, standard is just not logical.

However, last night was an exceptional night in all senses of the word. To celebrate a MOMENTOUS occasion almost a quarter of a century earlier, my family wanted to go out for a good meal with my grandma. By that, of course, I really mean that I wanted to go out for a good meal with my family and my grandma.

While my grandma is generally appreciative of a variety of cuisines, I know that she truly enjoys Chinese food the most. As I wanted to make sure that she enjoyed the night as much as I was going to, I chose a contemporary chinese restaurant - New Majestic Restaurant - to celebrate the Momentous Occasion.

I ate there a couple of months back with some university friends and remember the meal with such fond memories, not just because of the laughter all around the table, but also because of the extremely delectable spread. Returning this time, I was certainly not let down. The meal lived up to my expectations, which we all know somehow escalates overtime, and impressed my entire family.

Once we arrived, I ordered their signature appetiser platter - soft-shell crab, crab omelette, wasabi prawns with a mango salsa of sorts and crispy pork belly- while pondering over the other dishes. They were all flavourful and contrasting in texture. My favourite was the wasabi prawns , which is pretty common in most contemporary chinese restaurants, but I've always had a soft spot for perfect, fresh, crystal prawns.



We ordered a couple of other dishes as well, most of which did not look good in front of the lens, but all of which tasted like heaven. The Roast Chicken with Five Spice Salt (pictured above) was recommended by the waiter, in place of the other wasabi chicken dish I initially planned to order, as he was afraid we'd turn green from overdosing on wasabi. It had everything you would expect of a good roast chicken, crisp skin and tender chicken. Even the chicken breast was not spared.

Cubed beef tenderloin in black pepper sauce impressed my grandma very much, to the extent that she started trying to concoct the recipe in her head with her eyes closed and a furrow between her brows. When the poached amaranth with three eggs (century, salted, chicken) arrived, it was a great interlude from all the rich dishes. The homemade tofu was equally, if not more impressive as it was incredibly silky, almost like soya beancurd deep-fried and drenched in a deliciously savoury sauce.

We had wok-fried mee sua which had plenty of wok hei, and which my mum and grandma were thoroughly amazed by because handling a noodle as delicate as mee sua is highly challenging. It's fine if it is merely dumped in doup, but when it has to be fried, to keep it from sticking to the wok or breaking into little pieces, surely requires more than just a wok, a ladle and a very big flame.

What I did not order again in this second visit, but which I wish I had the appetite to accomodate, was the Chai Tow Kuay aka Carrot Cake (Chinese-style). In hawker centres, these are served with small cubes of the rice cake fried with garlic, egg and seasoning. At New Majestic Restaurant, they added some crunchy beansprouts and spring onion, and served it with big, juicy cubes of rice cake. Before I tried it, I thought it would be overwhelmingly heavy and would cause the dish to become a little bland since the whole mouth would essentially filled with nothing but rice cake. It was however, and very surprisingly so, utterly tasty throughout - from bite to swallow.

Dessert was a must of course, and while I had tried many of their fancier desserts like Homemade Sorbet with Aloe Vera and Grass Jelly, or Fried Durian Ice Cream, what left the greatest impression on me was the Red Bean Pancake. It effectively raised my expectations of all other red bean pancakes henceforth. It is not enough to be crisp, with a suitably sweet and smooth red bean paste, it also has to be almost feather-like, providing only the slightest resistance between the teeth before it snaps into two fragile parts.

Dinner was truly a delight, and my dad was more than happy with their service, which really says alot since he is very particular about it everywhere we go. It was however, a little surreal that I was celebrating my 23rd birthday already. Not long ago, I was merely 16 years old, celebrating my birthday with my girlfriends at a foodcourt, right after the Chinese 'O' level paper. They serenaded me in the herb garden right outside the school. They concocted a potent cocktail of tabasco sauce, pepper, faux grated parmesan and whatever they could lay their hands on, for me to consume because well, it was just one of those wild things we did. They were such gems and such joy.

I remember thinking about where I'd be at 23, and decided that I would want to get married at 23, 2 years after graduation and just enough time to accrue a tidy sum of savings. At 25, I would have my first child, and my second would come at 27. My husband and I would then live happily ever after.

Now, in a blink of the eye, 7 years have passed?! I still keep in contact with those girls of course, and they are still such gems and joy. But the 'M' concept is getting increasingly elusive, and the thought of having children in two years time is more frightening than Halloween, so I'm thankful it'll definitely be a(long)while till then.

But 7 years have passed indeed, and it really scares me that I'll be 24 soon, then soon enough I'll really be a quarter of a century old. Before I know it, I'll be middle-aged, middle-income, and middle-heavy!

Food for thought

I believe we all have a little (or big) nook in our hearts for certain special things or persons. It could be the strum of the guitar that instantly tugs at your heartstrings. For some of my friends, it is the sighting of an old camera that makes their hearts skip a beat. As for me, it is no secret that the sounds of sizzling garlic or bubbling stew are what make my toes shudder with excitement.



But what makes my heart turn to absolute mush is well... a heart. A heart for people OTHER than yourself, your family and your friends. I think most of us could afford giving a little more back to community, helping those who truly need help. For some this could mean volunteering. For others it could mean raising funds and donating it all to the needy. For a couple of people, they chose to make this a part of their work.



And that. Makes my heart turn into total, complete, mush.

"FOOD FOR THOUGHT is a quirky little indie diner where you can get great comfort food at a fair price, have fascinating conversations, find new friends and discover simple ways to give back to the local and global community."

Part of their profits go to School of Thought's Financial Aid Scheme for underprivileged students, and there is the option to donate to international well-building projects instead so that other people may have free water someday as well.

The best part about them? They not only try as far as possible, to work with local farmers, they also support local baking talents who've never had the opportunity to put their products of love OUT THERE.

Food there is simple. A wide array of sandwiches, a choice of 2 soups and a couple of salads. That brings about a gazillion permutations of possible meal options. Add to that a range of drinks, of which I enjoyed their Lychee and Sage Freeze as well as Watermelon and Mint Freeze, and an ever-growing repertoire of desserts (some endearingly named after their creator) and an extremely fulfilling meal awaits.

While a part of me has been drawn to the place because of the social cause, a major part of me went back to Food For Thought about say... a thousand times in the past 2 months, because of the food. Sandwiches come with freshly baked foccacia bread and the spicy pork belly and slow-roasted pulled pork are my regular orders when I do get a sandwich. If the Chinese Chicken Caesar Salad doesn't sound interesting enough, wait till you find out it comes with some pretty cool egg. The Shitake Mushroom soup is a mainstay in the soup menu, but is joined by other worthy partners such as Pumpkin and Sage.

As for desserts, Mississippi Mud Pie was highly recommended by both chefs - David and Peter, but I managed to wrangle out of their very generous hearts a secret stash of Durian Mousse Cake they had not even displayed. I'm not sure if it is on their regular menu, but I have made sure they know that they would have a very pesky customer on their hands asking for THAT Durian Mousse Cake everytime she visits.

All that good food is very reasonably priced, making me more than happy to recommend this place to friends, visit this place so often that they now greet me with 'Welcome Back!', and part with a little more money for international well-building projects. Let's all help others get easier access to quality academic help, and of course water!

Food For Thought
420 North Bridge Road
North Bridge Centre
#01-06
Singapore 188727

For event bookings, lunch/dinner bookings, takeaway orders and catering requests:
Please call
+65 6338 8724
or email
mailto:eat@foodforthought.com.sg?subject=Enquiry