For my last birthday before the big 3-0 and before we become 3 instead of just 2, hubby G decided to surprise me and brought me to a nice place at Armenian Street called 53."Why 53?" I asked, "Erh, that's the street name." replies Hubby. "Ahh.. so original" I say.
Thank goodness that was about the only thing about this little 2 storey shop-house fine dinning that was going to lack originality tonight.
We got a nice table near the windows although the view isn't much to brag about. Dinner started with excellent service. I was so kindly offered a comfy pillow for my aching back. It always makes me happy to eat where the wait staff are attentive. Our waiter came by to introduce the dinner menu and to ensure that me in my oh so 'no-raw-no-alcohol-no caffeine' pathetic pregnancy diet would be appropriately taken care of gastronomically for the night.The little appetisers came fast and furious after that. Starting with thin crisp chicken skin with whiskey salt and potato chips with vinegar powder, served with oyster and parmesan emulsion dips.
Then we had a Spanish ham flat ciabatta sandwich and a small personal sack of buckwheat bread.
The sack was laced with cherry stones to keep the bread toasty warm to be served with freshly churned buttermilk with buckwheat. The bread, unfortunately was lackluster - I normally have high expectations for fine dining that bake their own bread. Anyway, the little bites had to take their bow, as our dinner was served.
I had a garden of vibrant colours, contributed by a trio of tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries served with horse radish cream and 'carbon powder' that was actually timothy hay with bread crumbs. I'm not a fan of vegetables, but the strawberries were really sweet and the horse radish proved a pleasant compliment.
Hubby's first course was even more pretty. Probably the prettiest dish of the evening. Japanese cuttlefish and wild cosmos with mango snow and green tea.
I had a garden of vibrant colours, contributed by a trio of tomatoes, cucumbers and strawberries served with horse radish cream and 'carbon powder' that was actually timothy hay with bread crumbs. I'm not a fan of vegetables, but the strawberries were really sweet and the horse radish proved a pleasant compliment.
Hubby's first course was even more pretty. Probably the prettiest dish of the evening. Japanese cuttlefish and wild cosmos with mango snow and green tea. The next course - lobster tail with crispy duck tongue and textures of apple - was actually my favourite. Unfortunately my fork got to it too quickly and I didn't get a picture. That was followed closely by the lobster claw served with elderflower pearls. The flesh was springy and fresh, the elder flowers tasting alittle like sago.
The next course potatoes and nasturtiums, coffee and parmesan came perched on a hot stone with a variety of garnishing. I had water chestnut chips, baby yams and carrot puree. Hubby had the non-pregger's version with sherry shallots and ground coffee.
The textures come very well together, the earthy potatoes are refreshed with the chestnut chips and the nutty crumbs and the smooth carrot puree. Potato consomme, ice filtered was then served to cleanse the palette for our main course.
The main course served was an Iberian pork cooked at low temperatures with cauliflower which tasted very much like the cauliflower cous cous and reductions we had at Tippling club. I'm not sure whether to attribute the mediocrity of this course to my fullness, or to the actual fact that it failed to impress.
For dessert, we had too much as well. The gluttony started with a chocolate parfait with Jerusalem artichokes sprinkled generously to provide the chunky texture, and an excellent smooth mango sorbet with mangosteens. I was beyond my limit already and only attempted a few mouthfuls which in turn got our waiter worried that we weren't enjoying our meal.
We promptly told him we were just really full and didn't mean to be rude. And that prompted him to immediately get the kitchen to slow down the next dessert on its way to give us some time to catch up.
That didn't help too much, but gave us some room to still enjoy the last of the desserts on the way. We had a roasted barley malt tea with coconut espuma and oat grains to wind down. And the last dessert on the menu was a pear with yoghurt and buttermilk, generously flavoured with coriander, a light delight to end the evening.
Just when I thought dinner was over and my stomach could be put to rest, the pastry chef came over personally and placed a platter in front of me and comments "Someone tells me it's your birthday today.." Turns out hubby was trying to fulfill my one request for the evening to at least have a slice of cake and a candle to blow out. Call it crazy or silly, I just feel it ain't a birthday till you had a candle to blow. Anything else can be skipped, but this is just something a girl's got to have for the last 2-0 something.
And so, he asked if they could prepare me a nice small cake with a candle for me to blow out. The pastry chef had prepared a popping candy cake with cherry almond sorbet. The chocolate cake was richly dense and a slight struggle for a full stomach and a hubby that hates chocolate. But we managed and enjoyed the little occasional crackling of candy as we got towards the middle of the cake.
The next course potatoes and nasturtiums, coffee and parmesan came perched on a hot stone with a variety of garnishing. I had water chestnut chips, baby yams and carrot puree. Hubby had the non-pregger's version with sherry shallots and ground coffee.
The textures come very well together, the earthy potatoes are refreshed with the chestnut chips and the nutty crumbs and the smooth carrot puree. Potato consomme, ice filtered was then served to cleanse the palette for our main course.
The main course served was an Iberian pork cooked at low temperatures with cauliflower which tasted very much like the cauliflower cous cous and reductions we had at Tippling club. I'm not sure whether to attribute the mediocrity of this course to my fullness, or to the actual fact that it failed to impress.
For dessert, we had too much as well. The gluttony started with a chocolate parfait with Jerusalem artichokes sprinkled generously to provide the chunky texture, and an excellent smooth mango sorbet with mangosteens. I was beyond my limit already and only attempted a few mouthfuls which in turn got our waiter worried that we weren't enjoying our meal.
We promptly told him we were just really full and didn't mean to be rude. And that prompted him to immediately get the kitchen to slow down the next dessert on its way to give us some time to catch up.
That didn't help too much, but gave us some room to still enjoy the last of the desserts on the way. We had a roasted barley malt tea with coconut espuma and oat grains to wind down. And the last dessert on the menu was a pear with yoghurt and buttermilk, generously flavoured with coriander, a light delight to end the evening.
Just when I thought dinner was over and my stomach could be put to rest, the pastry chef came over personally and placed a platter in front of me and comments "Someone tells me it's your birthday today.." Turns out hubby was trying to fulfill my one request for the evening to at least have a slice of cake and a candle to blow out. Call it crazy or silly, I just feel it ain't a birthday till you had a candle to blow. Anything else can be skipped, but this is just something a girl's got to have for the last 2-0 something.
And so, he asked if they could prepare me a nice small cake with a candle for me to blow out. The pastry chef had prepared a popping candy cake with cherry almond sorbet. The chocolate cake was richly dense and a slight struggle for a full stomach and a hubby that hates chocolate. But we managed and enjoyed the little occasional crackling of candy as we got towards the middle of the cake.
And as we were about to peal ourselves lazily off the chair, out whizzes the pastry chef again with yet another treat - gin and tonic jellies to end the evening.
Abit like something out of a science experiment, the jellies must be left on the tongue and the gin and tonic will luxuriously ooze out. The longer it lingers on the tongue, the richer the indulgence. Times like these, I wish alcohol was fetal-friendly.
Fifty Three
53 Armenian Street
Tel: 63345535
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