Keong Saik’s The Guild is a convivial wedding for craft beers and fusion bites
A billion nights spent at Keong Saik have taught me one thing: Things will come and go but The Guild? The Guild is forever.
Tag: contemporary
A billion nights spent at Keong Saik have taught me one thing: Things will come and go but The Guild? The Guild is forever.
The greys of dusk slowly trickle into the nooks and crannies of Tiong Bahru. Its white veneer takes on an increasingly ashen shimmer and the kiss of the golden hour sun waned as we weaved through the motley of low-rise flats, on the lookout for the night’s protagonist, Dirty Supper Club.
Miniscule. From my vantage point at CE LA VI, Singapore resembled a diorama where even buildings were muddled into vague silhouettes.
Continue reading “CE LA VI”
Vietnamese food in Singapore usually adheres to a formula of homey, fuss-free spaces and safely traditional grub. There’s unlimited charm to the tried-and-tested blueprint but we wonder: what if Vietnamese food was reinterpreted with a modern edge?
The Lion City has been undeniably blessed by a gamut of cultural cuisines. It’s certainly not all-encompassing but already diverse in the spectrum. Naturally, certain styles still get lost within that flourish, criminally underrepresented and laden with potential — and it seems that African cuisine is one of the niches awaiting a breakthrough with the opening of the swanky new Tamba.
There’s a memory imprinted into every bar hopper in Singapore — one where they meander about Chinatown before bumbling onto a viridescent door at 20 Sago Street, then taking a leap of faith to trudge up the seedy flight of stairs to reach Sago House. Continue reading “Sago House”
The Keong Saik of today is not the same as before. Once home to numerous titanic names of Singapore’s dining scene, the vicinage seems to be on its last legs as it founders under the threat of vacating favourites and fading stalwarts. But even amidst the waning embers, a few sparks of optimism have roused — one of them is the vibrant new Hevel.
It’s a Friday night and I sat waiting for my friend in the cosy dimness of Appetite, a chicly placid bar hiding away from the stir of pre-weekend Amoy Street, nestled in a loft sitting two storeys directly above its sister restaurant, Nouri.
A suite of rustic Korean-style furniture populates the space, and a fleet of globe lamps dye the ambience in a passionate orange. At the back of the restaurant, a glossy art piece overlooks the restaurant — on it is a voguish illustration of a Geisha, seemingly supervising everything with a playful side-eye.
Comfort is an expansive and profound concept. Supreme comfort denotes disparate notions, emotions, and fascinations. For some, it’s plain nostalgia. And others, it’s unalloyed gratification. At Rosemead, it’s a chef’s earnest love letter to his roots.