A fallen cannonball anemone, a single petal remaining, but heavy with scent and memory. On my infrequent visits to Singapore, I always make a beeline to the Botanic gardens, with its photogenic dragonflies and this curious tree.
Faced with the traveller’s dilemma. What to see and do? What to drink and taste when there is so little time. . .
Should you narrow or widen the aperture? Deep but limited, or shallow and cursory?
Around and around in circles. . . Sleeping close to the Singapore river, every morning a slow pre sunrise run along the waters edge. Each day I’d trace the same path, the only variance my starting direction. . . I was surprised by the number of chickens strutting around unencumbered. I discovered retrospectively that they were the prototypal wild jungle fowl, unintentionally reintroduced, slimmed down, muscular and with beautiful tail feathers.
First the food arrives and then the hunger. . . I ate as much buah keluak as I possible. One old school home cooked version of ayam buah keluak, and then a trio of modern dishes at Candlenut. Fried rice with the black nut; a soft and warming (mole like) Iberico pork jowl stew and finally a playful rich ice-cream. Each showing a different face of the nut. Black olive tapenade and bitterness; umami and fat and finally; dark chocolate. (After returning home, every meal I’ve eaten seems bland and dull in comparison).
For the first time I ate a winged bean (taste unremarkable and green bean like) and the super sour bilimbi – cooked in a prawn curry and then raw off the tree. Laden with oxalates, eat too much and you can (apparently) get a kidney stone or acute renal failure. . .
As to wine, a singular bottle of the 2021 Courtault Michelet Valmur Grand Cru Chablis. 12.5%. Diam. An amazing wine, one that would easily win a place in my desert island cellar. A GC Chablis without a weight problem, the oak subsumed, the acids bracing. A++.
