It’s my last article for the year so I’m going to digest the one thousand plus meals I’ve consumed here and outside our shores this year. Consumption, to me, means experiencing the multi sensory pleasures of eating. It’s about the food, the bad and the ugly, plus some food for thought.

To some of us, it’s about the joy of food but to many around the world, it about the need for feed. It’s a struggle for them to find 365 meals a year. So, more so than ever, and way up there in my list of quest and resolutions from now, is the need to spare not just a thought for them at each meal, but also to deliver action. But that’ll be between me and salvation and not content fodder between the pages of this paper.

The Food

Pork jelly, a Teochew delicacy at Lao Liang Cold Trotters & Shark's
Meat stall in Jalan Berseh.

There were too many to forget. When the folks at Lao Liang shark’s meat stall at Berseh Food Centre delivered a platter of rare shark’s liver earlier this year, I had a moment of trepidation, all of 5 seconds, exactly. At the sixth, it went in so smoothly, like silk tofu, like a first wet kiss that made you yearn for seconds except that supplies are dry and they claim that I’ll be lucky to have this twice a year there. Then there was that two hours of decadence at the Whampoa Club in Shanghai where I was subjected to master chef Jereme Leung’s artful interpretations of classic Shanghainese creations. The cold, raw hairy crabs languishing in spicy wine soy sitting in a martini glass was a soulful makan chorus.

Interior of Whampoa Club in Shanghai, China.

A platter of sliced raw meat shashimi from a hotpot restaurant in Beijing, China.

And when Mr Hong Da Cai eased us into his platter of sliced raw lamb shashimi at his Hong Shou Xuan Fan Zhuang hotpot restaurant in Beijing, I realized that it may be a moment that’ll flash by me within that five minutes before the good creators above, one fine day, recalls me. I’ll especially remember it with the wasabi soy dip in their chilly winter. And on a warmer frontier, each time I visit Bangkok, I almost always never fail to devour that 250baht (about S$10, the price of a meal for two at some restaurants there) bowl of the freshest Teochew pomfret porridge at that hole in the wall stall in Yaowarat, in Chinatown. And when available, I insist on an accompaniment of steamed pomfret stomach tossed in sesame oil, vinegar, soy, pickled chives, fresh coriander and crispy shallots. Crispy brings me to the Pondok Laguna restaurant in Jakarta, Indonesia. I know not just how hot the fire is when the fry their signature Gurame fish, but when I devour it, the fins, head and gills are like crackers, while the flesh is juicy and soft. They spread the fish out like a butterfly before they fry it and when served, instinct dictates that I rip it apart and dunk it into their supremely cogent lime sambal on a little slate, with bare fingers, for naked pleasure.

The Bad

The late Johnny Apple (2nd left) and friends.

Once, I took the late and beloved Johnny Apple (the man that put Singapore makan on the world map when he did a spread on The New York Times on his eighteen meals a day adventure with us in Singapore), to a cha kway teow and fried Hokkien mee stall in town. It was so bad, that even a cha kway teow first timer like Johnny could snub it at first bite. It did not taste good even if it were some plain breakfast kway teow. But the hawker, and it escapes me why, is very successful and now have branches all over town and in top shopping malls. I wish them well.

The Ugly

A cold December Beijing brought me to the numero uno Peking duck restaurant that everyone would mention, especially all the naïve tourists (which sadly, then, included me). We arrive at 8.30 pm and were promptly told by the grand albeit jaded state owned Qianjude restaurant staff that they had just taken the last order for the night. Reluctantly when asked, they recommended with an I’m-not-paid-to-do-this disposition, the adjacent fast food version of their eatery. We walked in and it was a vertical drop down the cliff right after we demanded for a table for five. The insipid twenty slices of duck came in wobbly paper plates which were thrown at us with a cup of milky white beverage which we later realized was duck broth. The leather thick crepes were like…leather, so I asked if they served other carbos like rice, noodles or any flour based tummy fillers. The jail warden masquerading as wait staff shook his head and right behind him was a couple served a piping hot bowl of la-mien (ramen).

I naturally (with my state of hunger and energy level) barked at him and very coolly (on hindsight, he deserves some kinda award, I just dunno what), he answered, eyeballing the ceiling simultaneously, “ I meant no rice only, you didn’t ask if I was referring to all!” (applause!!!)

I do thank the heavens for all of the above experiences. For how would I know what sweet is if I hadn’t had bitter nor what sour is, if not for the savoury, or the unsavoury moments, for that matter. It all helps spice up the true pleasures of dining experiences and adventures. Only then, will food as a culture, enlighten.