August 2, 2012 - Chelsea Market and Cafe, Serendra, Philippines - Home court advantage: Being back in the Philippines means I can opt to break new ground or revisit old haunts. The monsoon season has most people huddling indoors, away from torrential rains and gale force winds, but my appetite has me soldiering on to Serendra—family in tow—at Chelsea Market and Cafe for a sampling of the new breakfast menu.

It has been a couple of months since I uprooted my life (and taste buds) in favor of the Lion City, but trips back to the Philippines remain eagerly anticipated—especially with news of Chelsea Market and Cafe’s breakfast menu. Given the family’s proclivity for brunch as a vehicle for bonding, I had the perfect alibi to suggest the venue while I was in town. I admit, a little bit of emotional blackmailing also helped to dissuade detractors. 

As is usual during these months, mornings at Serendra are damp from the evening’s downpour, but I had high hopes the meal to follow would be more than sufficient to liven our spirits despite the gloomy weather. Once ushered into the restaurant of bright and decidedly eclectic mix of post-modern minimalism and Victorian highlights, the smell of hot tea, eggs and newly baked breads immediately set us in the mood for a hearty meal. The rest of the family default to interpretations of Filipino classic breakfast meals, while I venture to newer fare.

Having premeditated an exciting homecoming for my taste buds, any virtuous inclinations for meals were sufficiently stifled for an order of Chocolate-Dipped Crispy Bacon, Caramelized Bananas and Balsamic Caramel Sauce set on golden waffles. Undeniably sweet, but the composition lends itself to subtle savory and tangy notes that effectively cut through rich whipped butter and leave you clamoring for one more bite. I have never had bacon and waffle together in this fashion—much less chocolate-slathered rashers—that demand for you to consume in unison, not as individual components set on the same plate. The result is a hint of salty richness on every sweet bite of caramel-drizzled waffle, and a generous contribution of crunch for texture. More surprising to me is how well the balsamic caramel sauce worked on the waffle. The tart reduction of balsamic vinegar with the caramel on waffle was a revelation. Until that moment, I believed foolishly that waffles cannot be consumed without the mandatory presence of maple syrup.

The chosen main for the gastronomically greedy (moi) was the Chesapeake Bay Crab Cake Benedict. On artisanal English muffins rested generous portions of the golden fried crab cakes topped with sadly malformed portions of poached eggs, and inundated with copious amounts of Hollandaise with the proper sprinkling of paprika for an earthy spice undertone—just like the way I prepare my version of this decadent mother sauce. The heated scent of crab meat provides a pleasant overture for the moist filling—cooked dangerously close to being overdone—that is revealed upon slicing. I gingerly compose each forkful with the proper ratio of crab cake to bread, and a glistening coat of sauce that enraptures me.

Chelsea Market & Cafe’s breakfast menu is a great and satisfying addition to an already well-practiced and well-received roster of delicious food, prepared with a truly unique perspective. It’s easy to see why I tend to equate comfort food with a specific Chelsea-offering, rather than a general food category.

March 24, 2012 - Artichoke, Sculpture Square, Singapore - More photos from a great brunch with university friends at Artichoke. C.R.A.P. Sandwich—chermoula-spiced crab pate, romaine lettuce, anchovies and piquillo peppers—is anything but. Friends have hefty and satisfying Scrambled Eggs and Mushrooms—with roasted onions, feta cheese, rocket and buttered toast—and leave me with food-envy.

March 17, 2012 - Artichoke, Sculpture Square, Singapore - Past modest, Gothic architecture with a distinct orange façade lies Artichoke. The atmosphere at the establishment is relaxed, and the brunch menu hints at a confluence of American and Mediterranean-inspired cuisine.

By choice, my weekends are eventful only to the extent that each meal is an exasperated anticipation of what “lazy cooking” can yield. But not today. A doorknock. An invitation. A minute’s hesitation. And I’m out the door with Heidi and part-time flatmate, Al. When asked where we were headed, the only efficient way Al could describe the place was by smacking his lips. Promising.

Cobblestone pavements lead us to the center of a courtyard where hushed conversations, faint clinking of utensils and the scent of cooking eggs wafting through the air, converge. Warm-wooded interiors and an airy dining area opens to an al fresco setup where patrons enjoy their meal with the day’s paper under shades from the lazy noonday sun. “No splitting of bills,” shout blaring letters on walls within the restaurant and by the outdoor area. This bit of unappreciated crass turns what could have been a classy yet comfortable motif, into an awkward nagging at customers who have yet to sample the menu. Service is pretty good, despite a labored and confusing conversation with the front-desk manager as we claimed our reservation.

I quench my thirst with a hit of Mimosa—part bubbly, part fresh orange juice. It’s decidedly pale, but still refreshing. The Haloumi and Mushrooms appear pan-seared, not grilled as advertised but remain good starters, albeit safe.

Heidi and I go for the Toasted Cornbread as our mains—two slices of Northern-style cornbread done to a near-perfect consistency. Sweet and golden (as opposed to savory Southern-style), the cornbread is cake-like but dense enough to offer some resistance as I slide the tines of my fork into a portion. Though marred by slight charring around the edge, the caramelization did little to diminish my appreciation of the dish. The slices are enrobed (not drenched) in light maple syrup that ooze lazily onto its bed of confectioner’s sugar, then topped with generous amounts of almonds and berries for a refreshing tang. Between layers is a good slathering of flavorful vanilla and sour-cherry cream. I am sure to be back for this, or will be recommending this highly to friends.

The Lamb Shakshouka Al had was clearly influenced by Moorish cuisine, as can be told from the spice profile—deep, earthy tones with only the slightest heat that removes any gaminess from the meat. My disappointment would be the amount of soft-boiled eggs that added both viscosity and a lot of richness that overpowered the spicy sauce. I prefer my eggs as a delicate and subtle note when not the main focus of a dish, not hitting me on the proverbial head. Less egg, or some cutting tart like a lemon could have saved this dish and made it more bearable over time, instead of winding up half-consumed.

Despite some minor misgivings, brunch at the Artichoke was pretty well-received by my party. That the meals are reasonably priced at SGD10-20 is the least of the reasons one must try their offerings. I highly recommend this place because they serve great comfort food from a tight menu. Full-stop.

Febraury 4, 2012 - Graze, Rochester Park, Singapore - Ensconced within the lush and verdant surroundings of Rochester Park, sits what could possibly be one of the best places to go for a quiet brunch. The place is barely accessible. The front is unassuming. The food is restrained, yet assertive. Nothing about Graze hits you over the head. No gimmicks or fancy fusion dining—just honest and well-executed pieces.

The gentle wind-swept inclines of Rochester Park wafts with a hint of coffee and cinnamon, while the audible rustling of leaves give me relief from busy city life and boisterous conversations. The cafe’s front is understated. Akin to residential houses with only a signboard to betray the culinary activities behind the establishment. Izman joins us at the table and tells us of his experience and explains the huge, white wall that looms by the couches. “People can unwind during the evening over dinner, while classic black and white films are projected on the wall. Last time I was here, they were showing ‘Three Stooges,” he says.

We go for our classic cravings that typify and identify brunch. The Old-Fashioned Pancake Stack—softer and fluffier than I EVER thought possible—arrive with pleasurable slices of banana strategically placed on top and between rounds of the delicious cake and glazed with rich maple syrup. Savory and delicate Eggs Benedict with Salmon and Chives consists of poached eggs resting on salmon-draped English muffins and enrobed with hollandaise sauce that gives it an exquisite golden hue. Any Eggs Benedict enthusiast will tell you that the success of such a dish lies on the execution of the sauce and the proper viscosity of the yolk as you slice into the eggs—and it was perfect on both accounts. The unctuous liquid oozes lazily out and begs to be sopped up with the English muffin. Sensible saltiness provided by the smoked salmon cuts a swath without overpowering the richness, and the salad provides a gentle tart for your taste buds.

I am glad for such places of respite and good food. And thanks to Izman, I know I’ll be back for more—or until I sample everything on the sadly limited menu. Yum!

February 4, 2012 - Smitten, Robertson Quay, Singapore - In just one day, I learned quickly that some of the best places to eat are tucked away in inaccessible (at least for the common commuter) places, but the effort (and at often times the cost) of the trip is usually worth it. The rustic interiors paint a picture of fresh grounds, great coffee and tantalizing desserts, while welcoming baristas encourage you to sample their offerings. Smitten is perfect for conversations, hanging out and sumptuous, sweet comestibles.

Immediately, I was drawn to the Tiramisu on the glass shelf, while Pia and Izman went for the red velvet (also a personal favorite) and strawberry cupcakes, and tea served with shot glasses—interesting concept and perfect for casual tea drinkers like myself who enjoy them in small doses.

Served in “cups,” rather than slices, this Tiramisu allows me to savor it while the rest remains intact, unlike the sliced counterpart that tends to decimate at some early point. I appreciate new executions of traditional recipes, but I prefer my Tiramisu without the zhuzh. The proper Tiramisu—like this one—should be layered with mascarpone cheese, not whipped cream. While not made from the usual Savoiardi, I still appreciate the layers of Khalua-drunken cake and the pool—like liquid licorice—of it that accumulates at the bottom. Eyes closed, I savor every bite and feel the goosebumps wash over me.

The cupcakes are, to my surprise, the same ones sold at Starbucks. I am a fan of most Starbucks cakes and pastries—not the least of which are their Red Velvet cupcakes—and discovering Smitten gives me an alternative venue to enjoy them without the loud Starbucks crowd.

Next time, I hunt for the source of these delectable desserts.