The Sugar Bar

In London, living in the East was something rather coveted by the people in my social circle (partly because we all wanted to be each others’ neighbour). And true enough, I loved being an Eastie bummer. Having a choice of local Vietnamese on Old Street/Kingsland Road, The Breakfast Club and The Diner literally a stone’s throw from my apartment, some cool haunts we never failed to end up in Hoxton/Dalston plus quirky vintage shops of Brick Lane pretty much stretching out its arms beckoning me in…the East was it for me. So vibrant and alive, so weird and wondrous, so intensely insane and buzzing, grimey, damp and unkempt. The East, like an ever-repeating collage of faded signs, cracked paint jobs, crumbling walls and random dotting of dog poop, like a crazed soothsayer who can’t shut up has much to tell. A place with that much character is not easily forgotten but forever burned into the back of your eyelids, reminding you that at every turn there is a story to uncover. Whatever it was, it was home, for a while at least.

In my hometown, I’m also an Eastie. And here, to live in the East leaves very little in terms of cuisine to be desired! At least, that was what I was told before we moved into this area five years ago. East Singapore has much to offer in terms of dining areas, brimming with little eateries, restaurants, traditional Chinese bakeries and hawker centres offering the famous selection of local dishes like Katong laksa, fried Hokkien prawn mee and Hainanese chicken rice. You can never go hungry if you live in the East. And that rings ever more true if you work in the East. The past few weeks I’ve been hired as my sister’s PA. No, don’t even dare think it is glamorous. I’ve also started helping out one of her friends as a researcher to source the market for environmentally green products, etc. When the brain’s working and the pen’s tapping away, one gets hungry very easily. Moreish and so dastardly peckish. Our office is situated on East Coast Road, quite the food hub I must say. This stretch of road offers the traditional to the modern, ranging from un-air-conditioned outdated coffee shops to the glass-doored modern restaurants & bars decorated with queer names to the pretentious cafés with an eye for minimalism. It’s got it all.

A famous little Hainanese coffee/cake shop here is Chin Mee Chin Confectionary introduced to me by A my sister of course who is up to her arms deep in the knowledge of good local haunts. It’s the only coffee shop she visits in the area and although my iced kopi C (iced coffee sweetened with Carnation milk…I’m still getting the hang of all the codes for ordering local coffee) wasn’t the best, CMC (as it’s commonly known in this area) is beloved by the locals who patronize it for a traditional Southeast Asian slash Chinese breakfast old-school style. And what would that be, you’re asking? Coffee + kaya toast + half-boiled eggs seasoned to your own taste with ground white pepper and Chinese soy sauce. Kaya is coconut jam, a thick and lusciously rich jam of a custard-like texture made from coconut, egg yolks and sugar and flavoured with pandan leaves. I may not have tried CMC’s kaya toast (we were too stuffed after a big fat lunch), but the locals (and even some foreigners) swear that CMC’s locally made kaya, all made from scratch within the shop, is simply the nation’s best. I peered at a neighbouring table’s kaya toast and it looked mouthwateringly good for sure, slabbed with loads of butter onto a toasted bun sliced in two, this is Singapore’s version of butter & jam on hot cross buns I suppose!

Because I had become a hippopotamus post-lunch, I did not eat much in this little un-air-conditioned hole-in-the-wall (only a coffee & a small cupcake). But that didn’t stop me from getting swept off my feet by the understated 1950s old world charm it exuded. It is certainly a nostalgic jewel of a find with ceiling fans, tables with marble tops and dark wooden legs, floral-patterned mosaic tiles across the walls and tiny green tiles on the floor which reminded me so much of the music room of an old piano teacher of mine. It’s even got the ol’ shophouse metal shutters for doors! People sit around comfortably, elbows on the tables because they don’t give a damn and slurp coffee out of porcelain mugs just like in the old days. From the yuppies who stop by during their lunchbreak, to the locals who are well chum with the aunties who run the shop, to little kids with faces glued to the glass cake display box to tourists seeking out authentic local flavours to curious weirdos like me, CMC welcomes everyone without discrimination (except maybe one of the coffee aunties who was cranky as an old cow!).

CMC is a place of so much character and personality, aged but riveting like a fine wine, hardworking, honest and fondly remembered like a good woman. It captivates me, and I’m certain it’s the same for many others! A true local favourite.

Wander in into this shop serving up just the bare essentials from interior to menu, walk down memory lane and feel like a child yet again. I could find nothing in there that disappointed me or upset me in any way. Simplicity at its best and a human character the Chinese value most.

Chin Mee Chin Confectionery
204 East Coast Road
Singapore
Open Tues-Sun 730am – 430pm

•••

And just another photo of something local snapped on the same day when A took her old box-type Mercedes to the car workshop…How old school, eh.

*photo taken on a Diana F+

I haven’t stepped out of the house much other than for groceries, heading to the library or for work. There hasn’t been much venturing towards coffee shops and I have missed that coffee shop atmosphere, the scent of beans brewing, the bustling back and forth by waiters from tables to bar and for neat freaks like you and I, the sight of assorted cakes, cookies, breads all perfectly laid out on trays or stands behind glass covers. I’m a coffee shop girl through and through; and I like bringing work or reading with me to a coffee shop because the atmosphere always gets my motivation going. I’m not going to deny the romance of a smooth black cuppa, and the flaneur-esque peaks I take out of the window whilst sat at a table all to myself. I’m always at such peace in a coffee shop, pensive and sometimes a little relieved (maybe because of the temporary escape from city-paced walking out on the streets). Time seems to slow down to the beats of dripping filtered coffee, ticking away within its own coffee shop universe that is as uncomplicated as a scone, jam and clotted cream. I heart it, and surely many others of you do.

But hanging out in London coffee shops sometimes is much too much effort. The cost of travelling to one (the Starbucks here in Old Street ain’t that bad but it’s just a little too squishy for my liking and hasn’t anyone realized that Starbucks coffees aren’t that impressive) is not great for a poor student like me, walking to the amazing quirky little ones which stock Monmouth coffees out in Shoreditch is just too distracting sometimes, especially when your table-neighbours are wearing lame silver leggings, have streaks of bright green in their hair and this is all some time before midday. And then there’s the cost of sitting in the coffee shop. It’s not the coffee that’s expensive. It’s the other stuff that I can’t resist ordering. I can’t nurse a lone coffee. I’m just not that type of girl. I’d need a cookie, or a pannetonne, or a fruit tart, or a scone, or even lunch and the whole shebang. I’d be broke by the end of the month if I kept up my coffee shop habits like I normally do back home or during my undergrad days (when I got free coffees through a friend).

Things changed this week though. I handed in one essay 4 days early and I thought this sort of behaviour just had to be rewarded! So I visited Le Pain Quotidien in Goodge Street for a little sit down with my library books. No food photos I’m afraid but I was thoroughly impressed with the atmosphere and the communal dining table. I didn’t order much except an iced black coffee (which came extremely milky because the dude with dreadlocks who took my order was ditzy to the core), a flourless oh-I’m-in-love-type of brownie (which was expensive for the size of it but worth ever penny because it was seriously good) and an Americano after. The coffee was really good and I loved that it came in little bowls – true Frenchness gets my thumbs up.

And then today, I nearly lost my job. It’s a real long story but let’s just say the good news is that I didn’t lose it in the end. And I’ll have to thank my Mama’s fighting spirit that I’ve inherited for that. Well after the whole meeting, my brain was all a little fuzzy and my stomach – which had not stopped growling all through this serious meeting – was about to throw in the towel. Hence, my 2nd coffee shop trip/treat of the week was well justified. Again, I had no camera on hand. But from the outside, the stylish brown Princi sign was like light at the end of a dark tunnel. Stepping through the glass doors into this underworld of glorious breads, the sound of excited chatter, the smell of flour and cheese, the clinking of wine glasses, the spitting and hissing of opening cans of soft drink – it was truly my safe haven. And the interiors don’t get any more chic than Princi’s.

I ordered a slice of woodfired margherita pizza and an Americano (which wasn’t as impressive as Le Pain’s I’m afraid), had a great big chat with the mates at work on my Blackberry whilst this beautiful man next to me flipped through a Tom Ford folder. The lady on my right was reading the paper. The sound of the pages turning was quite comforting and reminded me of my Dad who reads the paper every morning religiously. Although there are quite a few tables and communal ones about, I was attracted to the bar at the back. I love bar stools so naturally I zoned in on that area quick as anything. The zen water feature of running taps in front of the bar tables was very nice too. See what I mean about the safe haven?

I’m loving this place so much I can’t wait to visit again. On my next visits to Princi and Le Pain Quotidien, expect more pictures! Til then, check out what I took home with me: Tiramisu and Olive Bread. You so have to love Princi for making their cakes in neat little rectangles!

Princi
135 Wardour Street
London
W1F 0UT
Tel.: 020 7478 8888
Opening hours: Mon-Sat 7.00-00.00 Sun 9.00-22.00

The one most important thing which foodbloggers do best is giving/sharing food. Sometimes the effort put into that is enormous, requiring days of preparation or a massive journey, and sometimes it only takes the smallest bit of time. But even that shouldn’t be discounted because of the amount of thought that went into it. Either way, to see the recipient break into a big grin is the best reward and the happiest moment we can wish for. And an occasion without food is simply the end of the world for us, now isn’t it? Doesn’t food just make the occasion completely?

A fellow friend of mine, much loved and adored, is about to leave to travel the world in a couple of weeks. The next two weeks ahead are slightly busier than usual due to a research proposal deadline, of which I have very little confidence in successfully producing one I’m satisfied with due to the lack of preparation. Been too caught up with other things and my two presentations this week. Because a send-off at the airport just isn’t feasible and a farewell meet-up closer to her fly-off date wasn’t wise when the aforementioned deadline contributes a lot to my Masters degree and looms scarily close, I copied A’s move to train it up to Shrewsbury for the weekend with S. Felt wrong to go empty-handed, especially when I wouldn’t be seeing her for about half a year so I made some lemon curd-filled chocolates the day before and made a trip out to LOLA’s before uni on Thursday afternoon for some mini cupcakes. Sad to say, even though I’d gotten only the small ones, they got a little banged up on the train to and fro uni and home. The ‘epic’ cross-country journey up didn’t do them any good either. Buttercream bruises aside though, it seemed the taste and moistness wasn’t at all affected. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. Unless the folks were lying. Jokes.

On a cupcake note, I was surprised to find this month’s new flavour to be Pink Champagne: Pink Champagne-laced cupcake and buttercream frosting topped with a ball of coconut-covered white chocolate champagne truffle. LOLA’s always surprises me with simple, exquisite flavours. They’re never over-the-top and I quite like that they pull it off with quality ingredients and not whacky over-indulged combinations. I really enjoyed every bit of my pimped out Valentine’s Day cupcakes from Hummingbird but this pastel pink and lightly silver glittered cupcakes were a nice change and easier on the eye, I must admit. Also, it gave me a few more ideas for my contribution to Meeta’s Monthly Mingle. The ingredient for that is champagne and the deadline is 16 March. If the proposal goes well, I should be able to submit a post for that fingers crossed!

Although it was only a short stay that I had, we managed to pack in quite a bit. A lovely dinner with cocktails at a British restaurant Mad Jack’s, English pancakes (I had mine with golden syrup and bacon) the next morning with two lovely cuppas made by the bestie, and a good ol’ roadtrip with Mama S. behind the steering wheel in Shropshire. Oh and did I mention that getting away from the concrete jungle meant I finally could see some greenery? That helped majorly with my grey withdrawals I think. And my fav cat no.2 (no. 1 reserved for bestie’s black persian Mortimer) Jasper did bring quite a bit of sunshine and furballs into my life. Gave him a big kiss on the neck and felt a purr vibrate up through my lips (which resulted in quite a bit of fur stuck on the lips and down the throat). He might’ve taken part in some cupcake eating as well. What a cutie.

All sugared up and ready to face the world, we wrapped up as warm as we could (I forget it’s always freezing up north), bundled away into Mama S’s snazzy black car and zipped back in time – into the Victorian town of Blists Hill. I like period dramas. I like anything historical. So this was so much fun! A, a geographer by degree, was thrilled! Stepping back into a Victorian village, visiting the old pub (bestie got serenaded to), peering through the glass into the grocer’s, chatting to the nice lady in the local draper’s, teasing the piggies by the pork pie shop, discovering the clever magic of the candlemaker in his dark workshop, etc. There was so much to learn and see – it was both entertaining and educational. We sound like geeks now don’t we? I suppose we are! But it was such good fun. And yes, the people who work or volunteer at Blists Hill are in full costume and character! It’s so brilliant!

The local drapers and the bakery were my two favourite, not surprisingly. The blacksmith’s was pretty cool too. Although I’m not going to share with you my giant haul of photographs because that may simply bore you, check out the rustic homeliness of the local bakery. With 2 ovens the size of single beds, this bakery could churn out enough cakes, breads and biscuits to feed the whole town! The candlemaker makes 1000 animal fat candles (which are a lot brighter and wind-resistant than our usual parafin ones) in 90mins. The level of subsistence of the town to self-provide was amazing. When we visited the bakery, there wasn’t much left on the shelves but the pretty baker was busy cutting up some sort of cake or flapjack. We stood eagerly by the door hoping to be the first ones to buy those warm treats but to no avail. She ignored us. Gah, so gutted!

We waited and waited. But she didn’t get those cakes out. So we settled for what was already on the shelves. As if we would have been disappointed anyway!

Cinnamon-perfumed Fruit cob for S.

Light and crunchy Ginger biscuit for moi

Despite the grey, the wet and the freezing cold, we had such a great time. I honestly had a really good back-to-the-past experience in Blists Hill and it made me forget about the depressing drudgery of the big smoke. Felt a little Jane Austen-y as well. That always helps with a bit of literary inspiration I hope which is much needed at the moment. And because it’s about time I continue working on tonight’s presentation, I must love you and leave you.

Watch out for the next post on some yum country pub grub.