The tiny little island nation of 5 million people likes to eat. There are food hawkers everywhere. Chinatown, Little India, and Arab Street all offer local versions of their distant flavors. The weather is hot, and they fight fire with fire. But, you can’t mention anything about Singapore without talking about price. In other words, it’s silly expensive.
How much would you pay for this Singapore Sling (from Raffles Hotel (the origin of this sweet sweet drink)) and a plate of baby sliders? The answer: 52 US$. Yes, the peanuts were free, and we ate lots of them, but 52 dollars for a drink and a mediocre appetizer? That’s ridiculous!
This was a noodle soup that left my mouth burning for hours after consumption. I was panting like a dog and unable to finish it.
A nameless Indian buffet that was pretty good and reasonably priced.
This was from the first restaurant I saw after exiting the subway in Little India. It was a preachy vegetarian restaurant with lots of facts and Gandhi quotes about how being a veggie eater was morally and intestinally superior. Despite the proselytizing, it was excellent food. It was a thin bread stuffed with potatoes and peas. The dipping sauces were so good, and it’s always fun to eat with your hands and not get too messy.
On a rainy day, there’s nothing better than a warm soup with a tasty, delicate broth.
This tasted like it looks, burnt. Not too good for being so famous–some kind of chicken hot pot.
My feelings are not very mixed. Singapore is tasty but frustratingly expensive.
It was a small silver food cart, cooking for about twenty tables down a narrow alley off Silom St. Their operation was spotless, and people hunched over their food protectively.
Papaya Salad–Spicy and crunchy, probably healthy until all the sauce gets involved.
Tom Yum Soup– It’s spicy as hell, rice is necessary, a few tasty prawns and a lot of lemongrass.
We hit up our daily hookah afterwards.
This massive 40m waterfall was the highlight, I sat on the top, dangled my feet over the edge and giggled with that childish fear of height coupled with excitement.
Chicken head served with the meal! This was no plump factory raised bird, this was a yard-bird, meat was as hard to find among the bones as it must have been to chase and catch that chicken.
Later, I happened upon a Trattoria Italiana in Pakse, and of course tried it out when I spoke some cursory Italian with Corrado, the owner/chef. He was a smile wrapped around poor posture. There is a small menu of pastas, panini and some meat dishes as well as home made desserts and cheap wine. A nice surprise in a dreary town.
On the 7th floor of the Pakse Hotel, there are vistas of the Golden Buddha on the distant mountain, the swirling river and a town asleep before 9pm. I was full from all the pasta so just ordered something light–gazpacho.
There was a large, torso-sized fish frying beside me, covered in salt. It smelled great, but way too big for one person.
Walking farther along the river, past the grilling fish, there is a local place where we ate some spicy, delicious Lao food.
Nothing amazing here, just a good stop in Southern Laos to help move on from the horizontal pace of 4,000 Islands.