Photos from Singapore: Food and Restaurant (I)

Singaporeans apparently like eating. A lot.

It is difficult to explain the Singaporean passion for eating. In my month-long stay in Singapore, I saw more restaurants and food outlets than 

I had in previously in my entire life.  The shopping malls there have more than their share of restaurants, food courts and doughnut shops; the zoo and other nature parks have restaurants tucked in wherever they can go; and even the world’s biggest Rotay Peeng (Ferris wheel), the Singapore Flier, will turn into a restaurant if you are rich enough(for slightly more than S$ 250) .

It was my first week in Singapore, and I experienced my first cultural shock abroad—a culinary one. I thought years of watching English films and TV sitcoms had prepared me for everything Singapore had to offer. I was right, to a point. I did not bat an eye when young couples got intimate—frequently—in empty train cars. The humongous shopping malls that make our malls look like tea-stalls surprised me but did not shock. I grew accustomed to Singapore’s almost-perfect law and order situation, where the government has to remind its citizens that crime actually does exist (slogan: low crime does not mean no crime), surprisingly quickly. I even got over the fact that everyone seemed to have a genuine designer label clothing or bag. What shocked me was how much Singaporeans adore eating.

 

Less than a day after I had landed in the island state, I went to a nearby shopping mall to familiarize myself with the area. The mall was jam-packed, and even more so were the several food courts in it. In the beginning, I justified the crowds by assuming that it was festival season, since it was not a weekend. However, as days went by, the crowds around the restaurants showed no sign of decreasing. The realization that the crowds would not go away, and daily long lines outside good restaurant outlets were usual phenomena, was difficult to get by. The only similar crowds I had seen were outside KFC when it opened, and I had then thought it was rather stupid of people to line up for a restaurant. Looking at those Singaporean crowds during weekends, that now seemed pretty tame.

With so many big-brand names, and the untouchable rents, one would think food would be terrible expensive too. I discovered there, however, that a lot of neighborhood food courts are a lot cheaper than comparable Nepali shops. A plate of masu-bhaat with fish, eggs, and a can of cold-drink at a non-branded food-court costs a third of what it would here. For the Singaporean equivalent of Rs 160, I had had the following in a very hygienic place, every day: all the rice I could eat, reasonable helpings of chicken gravy, fish, fried eggs, two types of vegetables, and a can of Pepsi.

I liked the combo so much that for a week, I was afraid to experiment with new items. One day, I decided to be brave and got myself different types of fish species with rice. And then I immediately understood my fear of experimentation. Out of the four types of seafood I had ordered (I did/do not know what they were, only the fact that they were marine creatures), three were pretty good and the fourth still haunts me. It was crispy, slightly sour, and very very sweet. Perhaps it had been cooked in honey, perhaps artificial sugars had been added to it, I will never know—I was too fearful even to talk of it there onwards—I still am. Shudder.