I clearly do not know any food critic (certified ones of course. My parents don't count) but somehow, that chance materialised yesterday. It all started after my boss and I were considering the available venues for a nice lunch after a meeting. Stuck in an area notoriously known for economy rice packs or banana leaf lunches, I suddenly remembered a nice nearby place which I think my boss would like (and giving me a chance to escape from banana leaf meal. I'm not exactly a vegie person and banana leaf really means vegie dishes piled to the max). And that was how we found ourselves in the nice orange bungalow which many people wouldn't know that it's really a restaurant.
Our arrival was greeted by an empty dining hall with only waiters standing by the door. It suited us fine (although I'm not sure whether my boss was confident enough at this point in time. She may be thinking whether I'm crazy enough to bring her to an isolated bungalow) and we soon settled down with the menus. Having been to the restaurant once before, I held the upper hand (if any) and knew what I wanted even before the waiter asked us in Mandarin, "Do you speak Mandarin?". My boss shook her head, causing the waiter to leave us while we make decisions worthy of the United Nations i.e. what to have for lunch! I chose mutton briyani in a slightly embarassed demeanour as it happened only seconds after I proclaimed that a person is nuts to order briyani for lunch. I even had the audacity to remind my boss about an earlier occasion when we had a heavy lunch at Hilton and how I spent the remaining working hours staring at the computer screen. So I may now be in my boss' eyes, a certified nut who's unable to work after a heavy lunch (I hope she will forget about this when the time comes for increments and bonuses *crosses fingers with a solemn expression* =p) .
And if that was not bad enough, I found myself rattling on almost every trivial matter under the sun. Obviously, we had the entire bungalow to ourselves (minus the waiters and cooks, perhaps) so I didn't really bother to 'click' on the sensor mode. I think I was in the midst of condemning KLIA as nothing better than a ghost city or trying my best to persuade my boss to go for a holiday in shopaholic heaven South Korea when a voice suddenly put a brake on our (one sided, I think) conversation.
This man was apparently sitting at the table next to ours all these while. I found it strange why he chose to sit next to us when there were like a gazillion empty tables available for him to choose from. Anyway, I thought (seriously, I did) he could be some sort of government secret spy out to catch people badmouthing the government (and at that moment, frightening stories heard began to play havoc with my mind. But then again, the absurdity in actually thinking about it could be because I was hungry and the mutton briyani was taking its own sweet time to arrive) but after he removed his shades, clearly he was not a spy.
Our arrival was greeted by an empty dining hall with only waiters standing by the door. It suited us fine (although I'm not sure whether my boss was confident enough at this point in time. She may be thinking whether I'm crazy enough to bring her to an isolated bungalow) and we soon settled down with the menus. Having been to the restaurant once before, I held the upper hand (if any) and knew what I wanted even before the waiter asked us in Mandarin, "Do you speak Mandarin?". My boss shook her head, causing the waiter to leave us while we make decisions worthy of the United Nations i.e. what to have for lunch! I chose mutton briyani in a slightly embarassed demeanour as it happened only seconds after I proclaimed that a person is nuts to order briyani for lunch. I even had the audacity to remind my boss about an earlier occasion when we had a heavy lunch at Hilton and how I spent the remaining working hours staring at the computer screen. So I may now be in my boss' eyes, a certified nut who's unable to work after a heavy lunch (I hope she will forget about this when the time comes for increments and bonuses *crosses fingers with a solemn expression* =p) .
And if that was not bad enough, I found myself rattling on almost every trivial matter under the sun. Obviously, we had the entire bungalow to ourselves (minus the waiters and cooks, perhaps) so I didn't really bother to 'click' on the sensor mode. I think I was in the midst of condemning KLIA as nothing better than a ghost city or trying my best to persuade my boss to go for a holiday in shopaholic heaven South Korea when a voice suddenly put a brake on our (one sided, I think) conversation.
This man was apparently sitting at the table next to ours all these while. I found it strange why he chose to sit next to us when there were like a gazillion empty tables available for him to choose from. Anyway, I thought (seriously, I did) he could be some sort of government secret spy out to catch people badmouthing the government (and at that moment, frightening stories heard began to play havoc with my mind. But then again, the absurdity in actually thinking about it could be because I was hungry and the mutton briyani was taking its own sweet time to arrive) but after he removed his shades, clearly he was not a spy.
As I was the one doing the talking at that time, he directed his gaze at me and asked on how we got to know about the restaurant. My boss decided to be very helpful and pointed at me as the reason why we were there. On that cue, I explained to this stranger that I only got to know about this place after being introduced by friends. I thought that was the end of the conversation but it was not to be. Instead, he continued by asking on the dishes that I've tried. I half expected him to laugh when I said the only dish I've tried was the mutton briyani and that is the same dish I've ordered for today as well. Well, he didn't and said in a serious tone that he's actually a food critic sent to this restaurant by word-of-mouth on the superb briyani. He too ordered the mutton briyani and at that moment, I was left to wonder whether he is one of my kindred spirits (not the romantic sort but more towards those who has no qualms to help themselves to a generous plate of briyani anytime, any day and has no idea what fitness is all about).
I was tucking into my plate of briyani as was he when he remarked that it's really something for the restaurant to be named Rumahku (My House in the Malay language), patrons present to be all Chinese (I didn't have the heart to confide that I am a Malay) and dishes served boasted a rich Indian flavour. Haha, 1 Malaysia anyone?
Because I know (well, based on what he had told us) that he's a food critic, I can't help but sneaked a few glances as to his expression while he was eating his mutton briyani. I know I enjoyed my briyani well enough to see that his expression was rather, well, expressionless. The notebook on the table remained empty without jottings. So there I was, having enjoyed my briyani very much and at the same time, in trepidation awaiting for his verdict. If he disliked it, then my tastebud must be really abnormal even if there's such a thing as one man's meat is another man's poison. On the other hand, if he agrees that there's something about the briyani here, then that's a good reason enough for me to come again and again.
Unashamedly, I asked him on where I can get good briyanis. He recommended a few, the best being a restaurant in The Weld on Jalan Chulan and above Starbucks. Having made a mental note, he added further that if I'm a frequent traveller to Singapore, I may like to drop by a shop named 'Islamic' on Arab Street for an authentic Singaporean Briyani. After being done with the hits, he then told me of the misses, briyani places which used to be good but are now at best, highly overrated and not worth our time. I remember those places very well because I used to go there myself but as I will not risk making defamatory statements about these dining establishments, you can ask me personally. Other than that, I will not disclose.
Before we left for our car, this stranger (whose name remained unknown) hinted that he will eat at the restaurant in two weeks' time. Not knowing what to reply, I could just offer a small smile and as a goodbye, remarked "Perhaps we would be able to try The Weld's briyani in the mean time!".
Bring the Briyani on!
Before we left for our car, this stranger (whose name remained unknown) hinted that he will eat at the restaurant in two weeks' time. Not knowing what to reply, I could just offer a small smile and as a goodbye, remarked "Perhaps we would be able to try The Weld's briyani in the mean time!".
Bring the Briyani on!
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