He Says, She Says

Benjamin and I made a trip to London recently; a holiday unlike any other, dedicated to food, glorious food! Ben has already posted his blog about our 3-day dining extravaganza on his website. For his version, click here. And for all the photos, click here.

This is my side of the story – a somewhat mak nenek, unprofessional version of the binge fest that took place.

Let’s get the facts right first. I’ll accept that the holiday was a birthday ‘gift’ for me, although it didn’t start out so… but I’ll just leave it as that. The focus of the trip was to makan at The Fat Duck, but I’m not the sort who knows her kappa from her carrageenan. So the whole dining portion of the holiday is what I’ll call Ben’s “search for (dining) perfection”.

Getting a table at The Fat Duck was the tricky part. Bookings are not accepted earlier than 2 months before a reservation date, and the phone lines are busy the minute the clock strikes 9 every morning in Britain.

On a day exactly 2 months before our preferred date, I made more than a dozen calls to TFD – one call every 10-15 mins till I finally got through about 3 hours later. At the same time, I had to have the British Airways online ticket booking webpage at the ready, so I could have a few dates to play around with. At least 5 of the dates I asked for were already fully booked by the time I got through to the restaurant. But I finally got a date for dinner that was ok, and we were good to go!

Imagine that – booking dinner at a restaurant almost 3,500 miles away even before booking our flight there. Growing up in Petaling Jaya, the furthest my family and I have travelled just for good food was probably the 50-min drive to Klang for bakuteh or a little further for seafood. So anyway, with our table at TFD set, I could finally book our flight, accommodation, and plan the itinerary. Now this is where that one fat duck multiplied into one grossly obese animal! Sebab nila se-itik…

There's a Malay saying that goes, "Sebab nila setitik, rosak susu sebelanga"
which is like the English "One bad apple spoils the bunch"

Like, since we’re gonna be in Bray, we might as well have lunch at another 3-Michelin-starred restaurant, The Waterside Inn. And since we’ll be in London first, let’s pick just one really good restaurant too. So we decided on Gordon Ramsay’s at Royal Hospital Road.

Our first 3-star dining experience was at the latter. And it was bloody amazing! After dining here, I don’t think I’d ever need to “search for perfection” anywhere else. Perhaps I’m just a ‘sua koo’, like a beggar who can’t choose. But nah… this is it! Absolute perfection!


I usually dread the idea of dining at a fine and expensive establishment. Firstly, kena pakai cantik-cantik, and then, kena act all proper and posh-nosh. Then be surrounded by uppity diners and served by snotty wait staff with put-on accents and plastic smiles. Ugh!

But NO, not here! I’m not saying the service staff here were like all lepak and bo chap lah. They were extremely professional, carried themselves very well, were confident, eloquent and just oozed charm like a diabetic with a nose bleed. They didn’t allow this confidence to seem anything like arrogance, or to be exaggeratedly charming that it made you feel awkward. As Ben puts it, they were genuine. I did not spot even one tiny ‘jeling’ (cynical/derogative glance) from anyone.


We only managed to get this dinner booked for 10.15pm. When we arrived, we weren’t treated as though we were late, or as if we were the losers who couldn’t get an earlier booking. Instead, we were welcomed with such warmth and grace, with the maitre d’ leading us into the dining room like VIPs, saying “Ahh, yes, we ‘ave a special table ‘ere just for you”. I’m sure he says this to all diners who come through the door lah, but for me, it was like, Dude, you had me at hello…

The amuse bouche, especially the cornet, was so darn good, it was like, Dude, seriously?!! You had me at hello again!

Each course a foreplay to the next, it just got better and better. A soothing, sensual build up to the main course, which was ‘blow-your-effing-brains-out’ out of this world! To make things even more enjoyable, there Ben was, making little mmmms and ohhhhs and ahhhhs as he almost licked his plate clean of the main course, plus the dreamy, half-stoned look on his face during the cheese course.


We were so full by the time the dessert came, but the Tarte Tatin was so freaking awesome that we just couldn’t help but stuff our faces till we got cross-eyed. I told Ben that if I drool in my sleep from now on, it’ll be because I was dreaming of that remaining portion of the tart that I couldn’t finish.


And yes, Jean-Claude the maitre d’ presented me with this little ball of mango sorbet with a candle in it, and very softly sang (like it was our little secret), ‘appy birthday to you… ‘appy birthday to ze lady who’s birthday eez next week… ‘appy birthday to you…

I truly have never had a dining experience this perfect. From now on, every fine dining establishment I visit will be compared to this one. I admit I’m not some globe-trotting foodie or gourmand, but I dare say it will take many more years and many more meals to beat, or even come close to this. Sweet, savoury, sensual dreams, are made of this.


It was with this feeling that I’d never eat the same again, that The Fat Duck and Waterside Inn had to welcome me and try to live up to that ultimate makan experience.

So here’s the no holds barred version of what I really thought of dinner at TFD as compared to how much Ben enjoyed it. I don’t know if I try to give excuses just cos I try to be nice. But by the next night when it was time to have dinner at Heston’s, I wasn’t feeling too good from lack of sleep (the sleepless flight over plus too much activity crammed into the first day and not enough rest throughout). Ben had a luxurious nap before dinner, whereas I, being as usually anal about planning and preparing, went through checklists and itineraries, did some packing/unpacking and spent some time chatting with the owner of the guest house while doing some ironing.


I won’t go into the details of the meal itself, as Ben has already done that. Some new tastes/sensations here and there of course, and overall, the food was really good. Perhaps I could say out of this world only because of how you look at it – snails on bright green porridge, ice cream that tastes like bacon n eggs… weird, but good.


However, I’d just like to pick at the “Sound of the Sea” and why I didn’t enjoy it at all. Heston Blumenthal’s cuisine is about involving all the senses – sight, smell, taste, sound, touch… and emotion, or memory. I suppose most people would really feel like they could almost be by the sea when ‘experiencing’ this course, recalling fond memories of happy days at the beach.


I love the sea, the beach, reef flats and the likes. But maybe I’ve seen, smelled, tasted, touched, heard and felt too much. Perhaps the “Sound of the Sea” jogged something in my brain, flashing an image/memory bank of worms, slugs, back-breaking pre-dawn Wildfilms trips, trudging through knee-deep mud, getting sand in all sorts of ‘cavities’ including all over my camera… And believe it or not, I love it! But the “Sound of the Sea” just didn’t work for me. Dunno why. I guess it proves that everything tastes different to everybody.

Now the gloves come off. I was terribly disappointed with the service. When we entered, we heard one staff tell the other who was showing us into the dining room, “just any table”. It felt as though we were tucked away into the corner of the dining room. It was actually a nice n cosy spot, and because it was by the window, we had a lot of natural lighting that proved useful for taking photos (non-flash photography is allowed at most of these restaurants).

In fact, when were in Bray the next afternoon, we noticed that another Asian couple were sitting at the same table. Maybe they just push all the Chinese dudes to this corner cos they know we'd be flipping out our cameras and snapping away at everything. And I mean, everything.


Anyway, only when I had almost reached the table, someone else came up to ask if I wanted my coat taken. He then took it from me as though my coat was a piece of snot-filled tissue to match his snotty attitude. You had me at hel-… No, you didn’t.


I suppose with all the smoke and mirrors that comes with this sort of menu, the service staff may start to sound quite robotic, repeating the same ‘script’ and jokes over and over and over again, at every table, every afternoon and every night.

To make things worse, two tables away, there sat the most annoying boy in all of England. At that age of adolescence when he sounded like a diseased duck being strangled each time he spoke, plus with a puffed-up know-it-all attitude, he annoyed Ben to bits! He kept giving the plot away!

Like when they were served the orange & beetroot jelly, even before his parents or sister could pick up their spoons, he bellowed out loud, "THE ORANGE ONE IS THE BEETROOT AND THE RED ONE IS THE ORANGE! I've read about this before."


Now, orange we glad we arrived early and are at least two courses safely ahead of Mister Smarty Pants.

There was only one wait staff whom I wish attended to our table more often. He was funny and seemed genuinely friendly. He probably would have made all the difference to how I felt about dinner.


Unfortunately, the young lady who served most of our courses was really fake. Although she didn’t have her head up her a** like the guy who took my coat, her smile was really plastic and she had this sort of haughty and critical glint in her eyes. She couldn't really hide that look of impatience each time we tried to take a picture of something.

By the end of the meal (about 4 hours later), I rushed Ben to leave. I was tired, and just wanted to shake off that feeling of being unwanted and unwelcome. You had me at… No, you never got me. Or perhaps I just didn’t get it.

I feel kinda bad cos I know Ben was trying to linger and just sit there, soaking in the whole experience and the very fact that he had just dined at THE Fat Duck.


The next day, we had lunch at The Waterside Inn. By this afternoon, I was already suffering from the early effects of the flu, having a slight sore throat, runny nose and just that overall annoying droopy-eyes feeling. The restaurant here is sort of open air, looking out onto the terrace and the River Thames. It was a refreshing change to the usual dimly lit dining room that makes everything around you look sepia or jaundiced.


The service staff were more reserved (bordering on being aloof and detached actually), but at least not arrogant. Overall, the food was enjoyable but somewhat evanescent. Nothing really stood out except for the fact that ingredients were really fresh, but that was the same at the other restaurants too. Oooh, the desserts were yummy though!


I guess, like how the meal at Ramsay’s built itself up to such an apex, it would have been so much better if we reversed the order of where we dined first and last. ‘Cos now, everything post-Gordon Ramsay seems like one anti-climax after another. He'll always be 'the one that got away' (till I find another).

Eating our way through May

It's been a month of nothing but makan, makan, makan... As we celebrated our 2nd Anniversary in early May, Ben n I planned to splurge on a nice (iow, expensive) dinner and decided to dine at a place that serves "ultra modern" cuisine here in Dubai.

I suppose it won't be proper to be too critical about the food and I won't even mention the name of the restaurant or the dishes as it was sort of recommended by an acquaintance (and I guess there's some sort of unwritten rule between chefs not to criticise each other... much). I'll just show u pics of some of the courses we had and highlight a couple of things.


For instance, the restaurant manager who served us. He's a really friendly chap even though he speaks with a rather odd angmoh accent (for an Asian dude). He had quite a lot of talking to do too since almost every course came with detailed instructions. --- "First, pop the sphere... mix it... go for it" --- "You have to put the whole thing in... alright, cheers... go for it!" --- "Combine the flavours... Combine the textures... Go for it..."


We were mis-informed beforehand that dinner was the 9-course tasting menu cos the Chef served us a special, new 18-course menu. Yup, EIGHTEEN. There were so many courses that we didn't even know which was the main course, or if there was a main course at all since everything came in minute tasting portions.

One dish featured skate and I just learned that skate is the very atas name for stingray lah. And this piece of pari was TINY. Seriously! It was 2cm x 1cm x 0.75cm.


There were a couple of courses that stood out from the rest, but halfway through the meal, I felt pretty jelak and the only thing I could think of and wish for was an indecently huge slab of MEAT. A yummy, juicy, meaty steak.


I guess I'm really not the sort of person you can bring to a fine dining establishment. This has been proven a couple of times already. Once, when we had lunch at Les Amis and one of the rubber soles of my cheapo mary-janes came off in the restaurant. And a few days later, we celebrated Valentine's Day at Saint Julien n I felt very sick halfway through dinner from just half a glass of champagne.

So back to this dinner. One of the four different desserts we were served was this blackforest globe-thingie. Like the other globe-thingie (the red one pictured earlier), we were advised to "give it a light tap with the back of your spoon" to break it. And like its red predecessor, it needed A LOT MORE than just a tap.


So I tapped it... harder... and harder... no luck. I exclaimed to Ben, "Sounds like tennis ball!" Ben, who was trying another dessert, started choking and got into a laughing fit that took quite a while to pass. We were both giggling so much we had cramps, and tears in our eyes.

Overall, it was an enjoyable experience and even though we were stuffed by the end of the meal, I still craved a good steak. Since our anniversary falls on two consecutive days (officially registered at ROM on the 8th and properly married in Church on the 9th), we justified to ourselves that it would be fine to have our anniversary dinner two nights in a row.

So the next night, we had MEAT! Yeah... go for it!

We invited Seri (Ben's colleague) to join us for a hearty meal at La Parilla, the Argentinian restaurant in Jumeirah Beach Hotel. They're best known for their larger-than-life chunks of Angus beef - 500 gram portions to be precise. The restaurant manager is an extremely cheerful and very animated (and loud) lady named Margarita. She's really super, and it was really amusing each time she spoke, laughed or smiled. She practically grins from ear-to-ear with a beam that would probably outshine Eddie Murphy's!

I liked when she described the beef like it was the best thing in the world, like, "Ooh... ahh... Where I come from, we only eat BIG meat! Just roast the WHOLE COW... Oh... I LOVE MY MEAT!!"

So I decided to "go for it" and ordered the 500g tenderloin. Not wanting to feel left out, Ben ordered a 500g ribeye. That's ONE KILO of beef between the 2 of us! It definitely satisfied my craving!

Seri, who by now has made up her mind that we're absolute gluttons, ordered the more timid duck breast. Halfway through our steaks, I suddenly craved for an icy cold Coke and when I got it, I practically did a "slurp-and-ahh" thing cos it cleansed my palate way better than any wine or water could. Then I passed my glass to Ben and he did a "slurp-ahh" too and it felt so good that he passed the glass to Seri, insisting she had some too. So she had a sip, and even obliged us with a really cute n polite "ahh"! She probably didn't want to be the odd one out, what with us two going "WAH, SHIOK!" and all.

Besides unhealthy stuff like soft drinks and junk food, Ben n I also love the caramel popcorn and nachos with cheese that are sold at cinemas here. They're very, very generous with the cheese - a rich, golden yellow, creamy cheddar. Sometimes we see a long queue for the freshly made crepes, so recently, we decided to try the turkey ham, mushroom n cheese crepe, and now we're hooked!


We love it so much that sometimes we go to the cinema just to "ta pau" it. The popcorn + snacks counter is beyond the cinema entrance (past security), so it's not normal for people to enter just to buy food. But sometimes we get permission to pop in just to takeaway the caramel popcorn and have our own movie marathon at home.

One time when I bought some popcorn and a crepe for takeaway, the Arab couple queuing behind me were baffled. The lady said to her guy in utter bewilderment (and a very pekat angmoh accent), "Why's she taking it AWAY???" Ben n I are still wondering if it's really that weird to take-out popcorn from a cinema or if there are other people out there who do it too. Anyone?


In mid May, we had Friday Brunch at Spectrum On One, in The Fairmont. Friday Brunch here is like your Sunday Champagne Brunch back in Singapore. Ya, even with champagne and all. It was a bad start for our first Friday brunching experience in Dubai cos first of all, they messed up our booking and did not have a table for us. We waited at least 15 minutes till they managed to clear a small table for us. Brunch costs AED450/person (about S$200) that includes free flow of champagne, organic wine and cocktails whether you want it or not.

The restaurant was packed. Unfortunately, we found out soon enough that the attraction here was definitely the free flow of booze, not the all-you-can-eat below-par food.

Sashimi was fresh enough, but like everything else at the Japanese section, nothing worth writing home about. I wanted some miso soup but it was displayed in a very shallow dish, not a deep bowl or pot. It was utterly idiotic to expect anyone to get any soup using the soup ladle. It would be like trying to scoop soup with a spoon served on a flat plate. Totally dumbass.

BL: Yorkshire Pudding. BR: Seaweed no longer seems that edible now that I've seen how it thrives on our precious but mucky shores in Singapore.

The seafood section served fresh oysters and cooked prawns, crayfish and Alaskan crab. There were also a few disgusting trays of cold, cooked seafood soaking in a pool of diluted ice. A waitress insisted on standing right in front of the oysters to promote alcoholic shooters that were so deeply coloured they looked like little shots of poison. She just stood there, practically denying me access to the oysters as she tried to push me some poison. I told her I wanted oysters, and she gave me TWO. Bloody hell.

The Chinese/Thai section shouldn't even deserve a mention here, but I shall since I had a small bite each from 3 very disgusting dimsum parcels - prawn, chicken, and vege. The vege one wasn't even real veggie. They filled the blinking thing with chives! We didn't try anything from the Indian section, and Ben had some roast beef with Yorkshire pudding from the Western side.


It is said that the brunch here boasts the best and widest array of desserts, and they also have a Cheese Room, much to Ben's delight. However, towards the end of brunch, we were terribly disappointed. The desserts were probably on display from 10 that morning, so pastries were soggy and the colder desserts were 'sweating'. We only enjoyed the tiramisu and creme caramel.


We started our meal at around 1.30pm and by 3pm, the crowd had dwindled, leaving behind only the alcoholics who were by now pretty pissed, and getting rowdier by the minute. The once enticing spread of cheeses had also vanished with the more sober guests, much to Ben's dismay. Most of the cheese boards were only left with the rind of what might have been a nice end to a terrible meal.

Brunch ends at 4pm but they stopped replenishing any of the food at around 2.30pm. Around this time, chefs could be seen gathering in little clicques far from the counters, chatting and ignoring most guests. Ben noticed how they would attend only to lady guests. Yes, there's a rather crude Hokkien term to use here that contains the letters C---H---.

TL: The Giant Broccoli was decoration. TR: a very foul n soggy coconut macaroon.

Anyway, the next day we met Mabel and Chee Lin for lunch. Dashidai, a dimsum restaurant here had just opened a new branch in Jumeirah Beach Residence, about 10 minutes drive from where we live. Mabel n Chee Lin have raved about Dashidai before, and luckily, the food here is quite good. Actually, just comparable to mid-range dimsum in Malaysia or Singapore, but very good for Dubai standards.

We tried the highly recommended Claypot Braised Beef and (chicken) Char Siew Pau which Ben thoroughly enjoyed. Unfortunately, I had a bowl of chicken with century egg porridge that was terribly bland, almost bordering on tasteless. The next weekend, we went back for more charsiew pau!

Last week Ben told me he had about a week of lieu days that he had to clear from work and asked me to plan a short getaway. He specified "not anywhere in the Middle East" cos then it wouldn't feel like getting-away. With the Pound n Euro sky high, it was difficult to plan a trip to Europe without breaking the bank. I finally decided on Ireland but later we discussed and figured it wouldn't be much of a holiday either cos we'd have to cram so much within 4-5 days.

Then... I suggested something else to Ben... His face lit up immediately n just from his expression u could tell there were a million thoughts n feelings rushing n buzzing about in his mind at that very instant. He was so excited about it that he even cut his finger real bad while daydreaming at work the next day. And he says we should go in September to celebrate my birthday... That's my husband's sneaky way of taking the guilt of himself cos the whole idea of it already seems so lavish.

So the magic words? All I did was suggest, "How bout we travel to London n stay in Bray for just a few days, just to dine at The Fat Duck, and then fly back?" Heck, why not... Go For It!


So it seems we're not only eating our way through May, but are eating our way to Bray. :p

French Fries

Since Ben is more inclined towards traditional French cuisine and knows its history – stuff like why Opera cake is called Opera, etc, I asked him why French fries are called French fries. Like you have Penang Hokkien Mee which is prawn mee, and then Singapore Hokkien Mee which is something completely different. So why don’t we have Spanish fries and American fries? What’s so special about French fries when they don’t even come from France and are probably made from US potatoes?

Ben can’t sleep for days when I ask him these weird questions. And he actually goes and gets answers for me if he doesn’t have it at his fingertips.

Like once, I asked him if British royalty have a surname. Like y’know, Queen Elizabeth, Prince William… It can’t just say “Prince Charles” in his passport right… Does he even have or need a passport? So Ben actually asked one of the English boys, and he told him “It’s Windsor”.

Really? Seriously? So it’s Elizabeth Windsor? William Windsor? Hmmm…

Now since we’re on the subject of French stuff, did you know that before I met Ben, my friends were oddly eager to introduce me to French-speaking guys? I have no idea why! First there was Shan, who asked me to meet her for dinner. Then just before she picks me up, she says, “Wear something nice” which when translated means, “I’m introducing you to a guy against your will so don’t come in your jeans, rock t-shirt, without make up and with your hair looking like crap”.


So on the way to dinner she says, “Wah… He can speak French!” So what? He could be speaking Mandarin to me and I still wouldn’t understand a word. So this dude turns out to be a really nice and very Singaporean-ised angmoh, but he was like 12 years older and the only thing that seemed truly French about him other than his name was his Zidane-ish hairline.


Then after that, Shorbs and Raena tried to pull an “oh-you-must-meet-this-guy-thing” on me. This time, it was a Chinese fellow who speaks French, has a good job, is really nice and single (oxymoron?)… It’s a good thing their little plot fell thru ‘cos the only things French I like are French onion soup and French toast, and the only French-speaking guy who’ll ever get my attention is Johnny Depp. Ooolala…

Then I worked at GC, and the boss there said, “Ooooh… my Chefs are cute and they speak French you know” Enough already! These two “cute” French-speaking chefs she was referring to were Ben and David, who can’t really speak French lah – just a bit of cursing n swearing they learnt from Chef Julien.

They probably just said something like “Le mis en place escargot café au lait dauphinoise crème brulee thierry henri champs elysees…” to 'bedek' the ladies lah.


I remember when I had to do some food shots, and Ben was describing the starters that were on display. Pointing to the ratte potato with a ‘pekat’ French accent, “This is a rrrraahh potato, best potato in the world”. He only found out later that all he had to do was speak 'Yoda-ish' to impress this girl.


So the answer to why French fries are named so? Thomas Jefferson introduced fries to the colonies in the late 1700s, and the term French fries simply evolved from Jefferson’s description, “potatoes, fried in the French manner”. However, there’s no evidence that fries originated from France, with other countries like Belgium and Spain also claiming its origin.

Seeing Stars

The 8th and 9th of May is our wedding anniversary. 8th and 9th, 'cos Benjamin and I were officially married at the Registrar of Marriages in Singapore on 8th May 2006, and then married in Assumption Church, PJ the following day.

Ben won a free night's stay at the Burj Al Arab from a lucky draw held at a senior chefs' party last year, so we celebrated our first anniversary a few days ago at the Hotel.

Inside view of the hotel floors from mezzanine, night, and day.

Burj Al Arab boasts that it's the only SEVEN-star all-suite hotel in the world, but the 6th and 7th stars are self-appropriated. So Ben and I thought, 7-star? Let's put their name to the test...

Check-in time is 3pm, and we are greeted at the entrance by Hanna, a personal guest services executive, whom we know.

The "white" part of the Hotel (the "billowing sail" part). Pictured on the right is the view of the lobby and mezzanine from above.

While waiting for Hanna to process our check-in, I look around the lobby, flanked on each side by floor-to-ceiling marine aquariums. There are two divers in the "tanks", feeding the fish. Ben says they are not contracted divers, but regular staff of the Hotel.

The walls on each floor is painted a different colour tone to create that rainbow-gradient effect.

Hanna escorts us to our suite on the 9th floor, and introduces us to the concierge. Every floor has a personal concierge, who is at the guests' beck and call 24 hours a day. Apart from the usual housekeeping personnel, there are also personal butlers should you wish to have things "done" for you.

The view of each floor from above, and the concierge desk on each floor.

We are upgraded from a "normal" suite to a panoramic suite, which is supposed to be about two and a half times the size of a "normal" one. Panoramic suites are located at the "corners" of the Hotel, two per level.

We have mentioned before that all suites are made up of two floors, and so the first thing that greets us as we enter the suite is the grand staircase from the first floor, up to the bedroom.


Ben n I spend the next few minutes taking pictures all over the suite. I skip and sashay from one end of the suite to the other, as Ben performs cartwheels and stunts.


The view to our left is Jumeirah Beach Hotel, and Madinat Jumeirah to the right. On the other side of the suite, the whole length of the Palm Jumeirah is visible on the horizon.


We are given fresh fruits (served on a silver platter, literally), dates, Arabic sweet and savoury tidbits, orange juice and a complimentary bottle of red wine.


Ben and I also enjoy the last piece of our wedding cake, saved from last year, frozen and brought over all the way from PJ. (From the lovely cake from Aunty Rita, not the ghastly, gaudy blue one).


A remote control works the TV, as well as the curtains. If someone rings the doorbell, a camera connected to the TV shows you who's at the door. Movie and Playstation DVDs are available from the concierge should a guest wish to have some "clean" in-suite fun.


Another TV is located on the second level, facing the infamous bed with the large mirror above it. This one's not the kinky revolving one though... That bed is only available in the Royal Suite.


The pillows are SUPER soft! I mean, really, seriously, super-duper soft. You feel as though you're lying on cotton candy as your head softly settles into a pillow of clouds...

The bathroom on the second floor is probably the most extravagant of all. One look at it and you go, Whoa...

All the toiletries are super-sized, free to use as you wish or to take home. We're talking full-sized bottles of Hermès perfumes, lotions, shampoos, shower gels, plus bath salts and bath effervescents... Even the men's razor isn't one of those cheapo disposable ones that one would have to pay for at a hotel in Taiwan. It's a Gillette Mach-whatever one!

So, many hotels have jacuzzi-equipped bathrooms... But here, we also have "power in the shower"! An additional 3 jets for the ultimate shower experience!


Ben and I head down to the beach before sunset. A buggy takes us to Majlis al Bahar, the cafe/bar by the beach. We walk towards Jumeirah Beach Hotel, and then back the other way towards Mina a'Salam (at Madinat Jumeirah).


We order some snacks and drinks which cost AED220.


Our dinner reservation at Al Mahara is at 10pm, and we are escorted to the waiting area for the "submarine" ride to the restaurant. After sitting in the "submarine" for about 10 minutes, we are informed to take the elevator instead 'cos the sub is out of order. We're told this happens quite often and just last week, a few guests were trapped in the sub when it broke down halfway.

The "submarine" seats about 8 people. It's supposed to be a "simulated submarine ride" but is actually just a tram of some sort.

We are seated next to the giant aquarium, and the restaurant seats about 70-80 guests.

Our table is the only one in the restaurant with two wine buckets, as we are served rosé champagne the minute we're seated, and have a bottle of Riesling too. I probably had only half a glass of each.

Darrell, the Chef de Cuisine, comes up to our table a few times to present a particular dish or just to chat, as the menu is specialised for us. Ben turns pale and looks at me wearily as Darrell describes one of the dishes... "Shark's fin broth, shark's fin springroll..."


The caviar dish is superb! And the amount of Beluga caviar we're served (30gms each) can pay for 2 return tickets back to Singapore!

Throughout dinner, Ben insists that the huge humphead wrasse is terrorising him, as it swims past slowly and stares at him with its big, bulging eyes.


The soup course, lobster bisque with cognac, kinda gets us hammered. The ratio of cognac to bisque is like 3:1. I still finish half of it 'cos you know how I love soup, but Ben is a gonner after a few spoonfuls. So that spoils the rest of our dinner 'cos our heads are pounding and we can no longer enjoy any more wine or champagne.


The palate cleanser before the main course is also laced with hard liquor, so after a few sips, Ben n I are both cross-eyed and seeing stars.

It really is a pity that we're both so full and mabuk by the time the main course is served 'cos it's really yummy. Turbot and foie gras... a REALLY huge piece of FG. I have to say though, I can't be a fine dining gourmand leh... I don't really like foie gras! I find it kinda yucky and "jelak". But paired with the turbot and sauce, it's really good. If only I could have "ta-pau"ed my leftovers, 'cos I must have wasted at least 80gms of super expensive FG there.

Ben brings me to the kitchen to meet a few of the guys and see where he works. After dinner, we're presented with a lovely chocolate mousse gateau, which we have to "ta-pau" as we're too full to even look at it. Boris, the manager, sits with us for a while after most of the guests have left, enjoying a glass of wine while talking about fine wines, terroirs, etc.

Not your ordinary carpark

After leaving the restaurant, we walk around the Hotel to take photos.


We get back to the suite at about 2am. The turndown service presents us with red roses, heart-shaped chocolates and a pair of souvenir face towels on the bed.


Ben K.O.s right after a shower. I find out that the super-soft pillows aren't that super after all 'cos Ben's drunken snores seem to vibrate through the clouds of Egyptian cotton and add to the pounding in my head. I manage to get just about an hour of sleep, and Ben n I are both up by about 6.00am, feeling really lousy.


We have our complimentary breakfast alfresco at Bab al Yam, and take more photos of the hotel.

Lobby and tiered-fountain

Check-out time is at 12noon, but we're both so sleepy and hungover that we leave the Hotel at about 10.30am.

Mezzanine level

Apart from the excess alcohol that killed our night and morning after, we still had a marvelous time, and were truly blown away by the Hotel.

Complimentary cake and bouquet of roses

Pampered with flowers, and goodies, and gifts, amidst luxurious and extravagant interiors... treated like royalty... Ben says it's gonna be hard to top this anniversary. And we both agree, they deserve their 6th and 7th stars.

More pics at Flickr or Multiply.