Out for dinner for a second time this week: this may be the end of me, a succession of heavyweight dinners when I should be concentrating on eating healthily to aid my running addiction. Tonight we went to Flutes, a restaurant in the National Museum of Singapore, itself a short walk up from the river.
It’s quite a posh establishment: lots of white linen and mirrors, but the staff are attentive without being either contemptuous or obsequious, and service is decent. Menu is European, with more Asian accents for dessert.
The prices felt sky-high; perhaps $14 for a bowl of soup isn’t so much, but the distorting effect of living somewhere cheap is that it feels expensive, regardless of whether your menu is emblazoned with an enormous photograph of Queen Victoria or not. I was vaguely unsettled that I was consuming Queen Victoria’s Green Pea Soup – that probably constitutes treason, and by my estimate would have to be at least 110 years old.
Still, there was plenty of choice for vegetarian starters, even if there was only one main I could eat, a risotto. All good, if a little over-reliant on truffle oil. Dessert was a mistake though, a coconut cake with popping candy that was spectacularly unpleasant. You live and learn. Hopefully.
I walked back over the hill and home, which took much longer than the outward journey. But by then I was much heavier.