I Am Definitely Not Staying Till 2 A.M.

If you're constantly sugar-starved like me, and become very snappy when sharing a box of assorted Van Houten chocolates with a bunch of like-minded grubby munsters, then you're probably understand how I felt at 2 a.m. dessert bar.

Yawn-sational.












I don't understand the concept of it at all. Is it a dessert joint or a bar - as in an alcoholic checkpoint? The decor stirred up mixed reactions - firstly of nostalgia, since the concept was very similar to a joint I love in Siem Reap called Blue Pumpkin. Secondly of yuckiness, since the colors clashed...white seats and cushions (pretty cheap ones really) with multi-earth-toned tables and counters. The place is not that large to begin with, so browns would just shrink the space more. Thirdly, the lights were yellow and too bright for a chill-out session with friends, that special someone or just to wind down after a hard day's work.

Regardless, my friend and I found a cosy spot and dominated the corner facing the window on the long daybed flanked on one side of the dessert place. The service, I must say, is timely and pretty efficient. Apparently, the owner herself even served tables that night, including ours. And the manager of the outfit was more than nice and chatty to us.

But see, that doesn't redeem them of the slightly bigger than miniscule desserts printed in microscopic font on the menu. Unforgivable, really. For a dessert joint that opens from 6pm - 2am, the dessert selection is seriously wanting of good old Granny Smith Apple Pie, Old-Fashioned Cheesecake with fun versions, and Molten Lava Chocolate; None of which could be found. Honestly, the desserts we ordered were teeny-weeny, and unsatisfying to say the least.

The chocolate warm tart with a thin, crispy crust cradled overflowing saucy chocolate - and this experience should have been divine for a chocoholic like me, but I found myself downing water to somehow save my throat after two small spoonfuls. The thin crust, in my opinion, should have been cake instead to absorb at least some of the molten chocolate, topped with frozen vanilla bean ice-cream. And the whole makan experience would have been savoured. Instead of ice-cream, blood orange sorbet was presented instead and boy, was it sweeeeet! Saccharine sweet. Only a dollop was served, I noticed, as opposed to a full scoop.

If this is designer dessert, then it really needs a makeover overhaul. "Designer" should infer genuinity, quality and lots of love. Not attempts at nouveau art and skinny creative servings. We ordered the Twix after that whole warm chocolate debacle to give them another chance. I mean, what are the chances of finding 1 indulgent dessert among a paltry 8 right? Guess again.

Expresso is described as warm mascarpone foam, Kahlua jelly, crumble with expresso ice-cream. How did that go? Forgettable. A top local food critic once said that if you can't remember what you put in your mouth, then it wasn't worth remembering anyway.

With names such as "Twix", "Green Tea" and "Cheesecake", no one could blame you if you can't recall them 5 minutes after having ordered them. The names are too generic.

It's time to bring back desserts as how they were created to be - fulfilling sizes, rich creams, decadent ice-cream and chockful of character.

No Pain, No Love

If you’re Singaporean, chances are you’ve probably been to Hong Kong, at least once a year. It’s less than four hours away. And the food is delish!

I know, I know. The shopping’s ace. It really is. But the food is achingly gorgeous, devastatingly yummy and blindingly spicy.

There are so many makan places I attacked with my over-ambitious appetite in cute little dresses and knee-high black patent leather boots.

The one place you MUST go is the Agnes b. café. It is the only Agnes b. eatery in the world. Why Hong Kong, you ask? Well, I honestly don’t know. Maybe it is recognized for being the true foodie place in Asia where experimental art meets tasty sophistication. Price tags not included. Who looks at how much stuff costs on the menu anyway? Who?

You sit at a table and order whatever you like and then get ushered out after card’ing a check which you don’t even look at. Well, that’s how I do it.

Anyhoo, back to the Agnes b. café which is properly known as “Le Pain Grille” or literally "Toasted Bread". The minute you enter the wooden doors, you are transported to a charming little place in Paris. The white French curtains held up by wooden rods create a surreal feel to the Parisienne furniture. The special items of the day are written vigorously on a chalk board that plays a mobile role throughout the room.

Order the mussels…they are amazingly fresh and soaked in a aromatic broth in a cream-coloured bowl. All cutlery is branded with “Le Pain Grille”. How cute is that? And the bruschetta is oh-so-lovely. Chopped tomatoes are rosy and heaped onto toasted baguette which is crispy, soft and crunchy in the mouth.

The most memorable part of the meal, of any meal, are the desserts. I tried a few of them including the hazelnut praline and blueberry cheesecake. Ahhh….what is life without sugar? And the different ways they can be eaten makes life that much sweeter.

I am so very impressed by this unassuming café simply because I never expected it to be that good. It’s like when I was on a search for the best apple tart in Singapore and I ruled the former DKNY Café with the winning recipe. The café has since moved to the Club 21 I-shop in Cathay Cineleisure.

Remember these three words when in Hong Kong – Le Pain Grille.

Maa-Maa

I did it. I DID LES AMIS. The one in Au Jardin. The building is beautiful and very British, might I say. The servers look spiffy and smiley. I was there on a week day, I think Thursday night not too long ago. It was my first time at Les Amis. I know. I suck. But not anymore!


And to think I've waited all this time to revel in artistic gourmet. Poetic licence was lent to the menu. Romance was in the air. And it pretty much stopped there.


The table d'hote served was maa-maa, and the dinner companion was worse. No, I was NOT on a date. Let's just focus on the food shall we?


The amuse bouche was this weird-tasting egg shell cupping some egg thingey with potato broth. Hah? Eewness Central. It was not cold, neither was it hot. It was "just is". *confused* I didn't see any meaning or purpose in the broken shell dairy "nog"? Haiyah, don't know lah.

The crab meat was lovely. I had two slightly different interpretations of it. The temperature was perfect heat, if such a term existed. And yummy-doodles.

By the way, I soooooo forgot my digicam so I was using my laoya (a.k.a. lousy) cell phone to take pictures. Sorry...very boho, I know. I'm a really busy girl, okay!


I was seated facing the gardens. It was a gorgeous evening - balmy and cool. Both elements I didn't experience cause I was sitting inside. Alamak, I'm very Singaporean. Must have air con. I also noticed that Botanic Gardens gets super dark really early in the evening. So why do people still visit the place after 5 p.m.? You can't really see anything, and Cafe Les Amis closes fairly early. You're obviously not there for dinner - they're usually dressed casually.

So, what's the..Ohhhhhhhhhh..........Eew. Moving forward, please.



The wagyu beef carpaccio is ooh-la-la...really the STAR of the evening that brightened up my whole dinner. The King George which I ordered was not too bad. A little heavy for my liking. You know, I'm girly like that. But for a guy, I think they'd slurp it up in a few swift moves with the Cuteness Central knives. The broth generally for all the dishes were yumsies-daisies.

But I did have a sad moment - the desserts were so blah. Ugh. I had three. And they were so not hip, hot and happening. In fact, the additional dessert I ordered was not taken seriously at first. The server, in full official regalia (not tux lah, more like pretty suit) actually reminded me that it would be chargeable. DUH.


It's Les Amis. The minute you sit your cute butt down on one of those plush chairs in Au Jardin, you're so not counting the dollars anymore. And I definitely wasn't. So, hello? When you're in a posh restaurant, you are posh. So behave like it. I felt like a child been asked to show my bank acocunt balance just to prove I could spend a few more dollars after I've already racked up some hundred of 'dem.

If Les Amis @ Shaw Centre wasn't filled, I would have been dining my heart out and lovin' it. But that of course is a pure assumption based on feeling. The feeling that i'm meeting my friend in less than an hour for dinner. And I just can't wait to soup-size myself.

I'm not even going to show you dessert pictures cause they're just not worth it. The only thing that kept me going during dinner was the view.

Sigh.

The More I See You, The More I Love You

Soooooo death-defyingly Jill-o-licious is the sticky toffee pudding I just had at Highlanders @ Clarke Quay. Just had, as in a few hours ago! A girlfriend of ours is in town for a few weeks from Sydney. It's so fun to catch up after a long while. And you know girls, we talk and talk and talk about every nitty gritty thing. Hah :)

Anyhoo, the sweet-o-rama dessert engaged with chocolate chip cookie ice-cream and bordered with a mini sliver of almond biscotti was ab fab, y'all! It's sweet enough to make you drool for more, and yet not overly sweet to cause you a sugar crash the next day.

I dislike toffee on its own. The candy looks, tastes and smells synthetic, very manufactured. Ugh. But this toffee was so NOT! This glossy remake from butter, milk and molasses or plain sugar was rockin' with the malt whiskey that was generously seeped into the toffee cake mixture.

Complimented with chewy chocolate ice-cream that was D to the E to the L to the I to the C-I-O-U-S, it was mighty fine. This was one plate you couldn't pull away from me, at least not for long. When the pudding arrived, everyone around the table wanted a taste. So the white china did do its tour and was voted "very good" by four gregarious, cuteness central ladies. "Very Good" really means wah lau, why I didn't order this? Now I have to watch her finish it but I can only have one bite. Pai seh mah, not my dessert.

Not bad for a debut appearance.