The street across from the Hotel Telegraph transformed into a bustling market dedicated to satay in the evening. Lines formed, chairs and tables were set, fires raged, meats marinated. In Singaporean style the experience was both highly organized and energetic. We descended from our third floor room before six pm to find patrons already waiting for their orders, a growing line and menus being inspected. As we approached with obvious confused looks on our faces, we were offered a menu of three satay options: shrimp, beef or chicken in various combinations and sizes. After we ordered, we received a buzzer to alert us when our food was ready. A 45-minute wait was suggested. While we waited we found an empty table at a place with the chilli crab just beyond the steps. It arrived quicklky after ordering a medium crab: succulent, spicy, spectacular. It was a treat that required eating armor in the form of plastic gloves and a ton of napkins. So very worth it. We were sopping up the spicy sauce with piping hot buns when our buzzer rang.
We scurried down the steps to find two spots in the long communal tables before collecting our tray of grilled and spiced meats. The tables were full and customers crammed without panic. It was a beautiful night in the city, under the stars dipping our sticks of satay into the sauce. So simple in form and so complex in flavor. I enjoyed the chicken the most.
Our mouths were still burning from the chilli crab, when glistening egg tarts called to us with promise of sweet relief. The tarts did not disappoint. Flaky pastry, still warm from the oven, the custard was barely set. We tried both the original and the salted egg. It demanded a delicate and quick gesture to guide the generous bite of delight into my mouth. My gesture wasn’t as delicate and refined as I wanted it to be. Regardless, it was a eyes-roll-back-in-disbelief moment of sheer eggy goodness. A moment of perfection that I am doomed to search for endlessly. I’m okay with that.
One of the most memorable dishes that I tried for the first time was Nasi Lemak. Malaysian coconut milk rice, fried crispy anchovies, toasted peanuts, cucumber, sambal and “spicy wife” roasted chicken. The chicken had a crispy coating of spice and tender juicy meat inside. The fried anchovies, peanuts and rice with a touch of the sambal was a flavor and texture dream team. These flavor combinations were unfamilar to me. I’m so glad that is no longer the case. I will be dreaming and searching for this dish from now on.
We tried two versions of carrot cake – Chai Tow Kway. Flavorful, soft, chewy and roasty all at the same time. The one with dark soy sauce was more caramelized. It was a hearty dish of radish (daikon) cakes cut into dumpling size, stir fried with eggs, green onions and seasoning sauces.
Yes, durian was sampled. For me the experience was mixed: the texture is delightfully and surprisingly fluffy, the intense sweetness morphed somehow into a savory funk that compares to no other taste. It is a singular taste experience. Many other dishes were sampled. All pried open the world of flavor a bit more with each bite and sip: grass jelly drink, fish soup, noodles with gravy and meats, pandan waffle and more.
Rojak is said to represent the cultural diversity of Singapore (last image). A sweet savory, fruit, vegetable dish infused with lime and shrimp paste. The one we tasted at Old Airport Road Food centre was covered in nuts. It was a collision of everything. Is it a snack, a meal, a dessert? It defies categorical definition and so philosophically my favorite even if gastronomically a challenge. I’ll be thinking about this one for a long time. Sometimes food preferences translate easily, sometimes acquired tastes confront us, sometimes unfamiliar combinations of familiar tastes shift our perspectives, sometimes familiar foods in unfamiliar places surprise us (we had the best room service veggie and regular burger with fries at the Telegraph Hotel). Eating through Singapore was an adventure and awakening into the ever expanding possibilities of multiculturalism in practice.