Say Cheese...

Singapore is a famous destination for its food, whether it be fine dining at the Michelin star end (and there seem to be quite a few here) to the opposite end consisting of the plastic garden chair hawker establishments scattered along the roadsides and next to most shopping centres.
Now, I enjoy the entire spectrum on offer but generally I find posh restaurants a bit too stiff, unless of course you have a raucous group of you with lots to catch up, or a special lady friend to fawn over. Hawker stalls here are a brilliant alternative and you can pick up pretty much anything and everything for just a few dollars. You do need to be a little bit brave at first as the mad looking Chinaman/lady chopping broiled chickens in half with a massive cleaver can seem a little intimidating, even if I am about three times the size of him/her. In my first week I must have walked past this one set of hawker stalls near my hotel about five times before I had the balls to go up and even look at what was on offer behind the counter. So one day, finally plucking up enough courage, I ordered my first Chicken Rice. Hainanese Chicken Rice to be exact. Chicken Rice is basically a chicken that is boiled whole, bones and all until cooked. The left over water stock is then used to cook the rice with, which gives a slightly oily texture and a distinctive taste which is then mixed with coconut milk. It’s then served with some dips, which generally consists of a plate of the most ridiculously spicy chili sauce known to man. The chili sauce here is in a league of its own. It’s the Man Utd of spiciness in fact. I say Man Utd as you see the bugger everywhere, everyone claims to be a fan of it and it gives you a red face of Ferguson if you eat too much of it.
Some people say that Chicken Rice is the national dish of Singapore and you do see it absolutely everywhere and people are generally quite proud of showing it off, so there is probably some element of truth in it.

So after approaching said stall and having the customary “Whayowon?” shouted at me I had my first ever portion. So, it is quite tasty I must agree. The rice is really tasty and being cooked in all the oils of the chicken, it’s quite rich and very very filling. I had a portion for brunch on a Saturday and was full all the way up until the early evening. It’s a bargain way (about $5) to fill yourself for the day so you can see why at 11am the entire food court was rammed full of locals slurping away at various incarnations of it.

So having started out at the bottom end of the market and thoroughly enjoying it I’m going to try and sort out a boozy lunch at the Hyatt or one of the posh hotels which specialise in afternoon brunches. The brunches here are very popular ways of expanding your stomach to epic proportions on all you can eat oysters, champagne and other bourgeois delectations until you fall over and pass out in a food coma. A colleague of mine had 9 courses of pan fried foie gras once and didn’t have a movement for three days it was that rich.

Now, not having any stuff at all, and my serviced apartment not having much space in the kitchen to really make anything more complicated than the occasional scrambled eggs on toast, with a hint of butter, a pinch of cayenne pepper and a fleck of parsley (I mean, you’ve got to try and make it look exciting) I’ve not really done any cooking at all. Funny enough, I do actually miss it a bit so I’m quite pleased that my new condo I’m moving into actually does have an oven. Believe it or not, but lots of condos here don’t actually have ovens in them. So having one in mine was quite important as I do actually hope to do a bit of cooking once the pots and pans arrive.

As eating out can be quite a cheap affair this does lend itself nicely as to whether or not it’s cheaper to actually eat out for a few dollars a night, or to cook for yourself at home? When you look at the sheer variety of cuisines that you can scoff away from home you really do question if it’s worth the effort to go shopping, slog the bags around in the heat and schlep them all the way home to make something. Obviously, being single does make this an easier decision than if you‘ve a family of small, medium or even pretty large mouths to feed. What does make you think about it is when you actually do hit the supermarkets here. On the whole some things are really cheap, whilst some things that I take for granted as being quite accessible in England make you smart when you pick them up and see how expensive they are here.

The first one is cheese.

If Wallace and Grommet’s space ship had accidentally landed here when they set off for the cheesy laden Nirvana of the moon, they’d have taken one look at the price of a slab of Edam and would have been running back up the stairs with the suitcases and firing the thing up faster than you can say Gorgonzola.
I’ve discovered that good cheese here has the equivalent street value of crack cocaine. Even a measly bit of Brie has the same monetary value per kilo as gold.
I like a good bit of cheese as much as the next man, so one evening whilst giving into this taste craving I ventured to Cold Storage (the equivalent of Sainsbury’s here) and in testament to my usual shopping habits went straight to the booze and cheese sections. I’ll explain more about booze pricing another time, but needless to say, it makes the cheese price fixing scandal discussion look a bit trivial.
So in go a few bottles of cheap red and off to load up on some crackers and a tasty bit of Port Salut.

This is the part where I do a little double take once I see how much cheese really is here.

If you go for a bit of standard cheddar, it’s not going to cause your wallet to haemorrhage too badly, but hit a bit of continental Dolce latté and you’ll be taking a trip to the cash point. I think I bought a bit of a selection, which along with a few crackers and water biscuits came to the best part of about $80 which is probably the most expensive cheese I’ve ever bought. It did taste pretty damn good though...

I’m thinking of getting another mortgage if I ever go for a fondue night anywhere here.

The big question is... Why is cheese so expensive here? Granted – there are no cows here, so no milk production, so no burly milk maids in frilly frocks churning the paddles to make the creamy elixir itself. But saying that – Singapore imports nearly everything anyway as it produces hardly any homemade or natural resources of its own, other than cold hard cash – so why is cheese being singled out? Is there some secret cheddar tax that I don’t know about?

Honestly – I don’t know the answer to this, but I’m going to try and find out.

That or I invest in a cow.