Story of a BATA Bag

Couple of weeks ago whilst in the midst of packing my stuff, I decided that this bag, like the other one, too had to go. 

At first I wasn't sure.

It still was in quite a good condition, it still could be used, and more importantly, this bag, actually, wasn't mine.

No doubt I had been using it for almost 6 years, even hanging a little lion stuffie on it, but in fact it was on a borrowed status, and this bag originally belonged to a lady who bought it 9 years ago during a very trying season when she was rehabilitating from a stroke and going through physiotherapy to recover the use of her affected left leg and arm. 

In a season like that one tends to buy a lot of things. 

So at the BATA store in Peninsula Plaza one day she picked out this bag from the shelf, fished inside her old bag for a 50 dollar note, and paid for it. 

How long she carried this blue handbag for, I cannot remember now- probably a year give and take- but one day she decided that there wasn't any much of a point carrying this bag out anymore, so aside the bag went. 

There it sat unused for a season of time- probably about two years or so- until one day I was desperately looking around for a handbag to carry to a last minute professional meeting, and (with permission from her family) I borrowed it.

Time passed and the bag (sort of) became mine after a while. 

But a few years after I had to stop carrying it. 

Not because I felt like I shouldn't borrow it or use it but because the bag somehow seemed very heavy after my day to day belongings were placed in it, and despite my best efforts I found it hard to brush away the uncomfortable ache spreading over my shoulders.

Eventually other bags came into place and this one became left behind.

I haven't used this bag in probably over two years. 

It's just been sitting there. 

You know, one of the questions I asked myself before tossing this bag away into the bin was whether I would use this bag again in the future.

The answer was no. 

It wasn't the only question I asked. 

I asked myself too whether it was something the original owner still cherished. 

The answer too was, in all likelihood, no. 

Maybe she might recognize it, maybe she might not. 

I don't know. 

I'm not sure whether she still remembers it. 

And even if she does, I'm not sure whether she wants to be reminded of a time where she tried so hard to be strong, carrying all the things she thought she might need, every day, to CART at Tan Tock Seng Hospital, even though the design of the bag probably tired her out and made her commute more challenging than she assumed it would be. 

Backpack ~2000s

I threw this backpack away couple of weeks ago.

It was time. 

Time to let go of things, time to let go of mementoes, time to let go of stuff because their original owners had already let go of them. 

I took a good look at the backpack before tossing it into the bin.

It had, after all, gone with me to places that I previously had not gone before, and in all honesty, I don't hate it nor resent it.

But times have changed, my preferences have changed, and I no longer appreciate this backpack the way that I used to. 

That doesn't mean that I don't remember the circumstances that led to me buying this backpack, or that I don't remember at where I got this backpack from.

I remember it all very well. 

Is there a significance to this blue and black colored, padded strap backpack that I bought at a shop on the second floor of Larkin Bus Terminal? 

Yes.

Because she's a memento of a time when The Family and I were going up to Malaysia nearly every weekend. 

I'm not reminiscing romantically about those times. 

But they did happen. 

And because they did happen- Saturday mornings to Sunday nights four times a month- we've got this story of the backpack to which I never really gave it a name.

It's one thing to pack for a 7 day trip and get on a coach that will take you point-to-point directly to your destination.

It's another thing, however, to pack the same size of bag for a 2 day trip and take three buses before you finally get to the place you were planning to go. 

The journey would've been much easier had The Family decided to take direct coaches from the (now-enbloc) Golden Mile Complex at Beach Road. 

I could have then tossed my green gym bag overhead my seat, or even in the luggage section below. 

But they preferred to do it the organic way and so four times a month we boarded a bus to take us from our home to Queen Street Bus Terminal, where from there we took another bus- 170 or Causeway Link depending on which queue was shorter- and then after that from Larkin to whichever town we were going. 

Maybe I wouldn't have minded it so much had it not been for this chonk of a green gym bag resting like a heavyweight on my right shoulder. 

But as it was, that's what I carried when we first began traveling to and fro, and trust me, quite a chore it was to balance the bag with one arm up and down the steps of the bus more than five times. 

First time was when I got up SBS Transit's bus to get to Queen Street.

Second time was when I got down the SBS Transit at Queen Street. 

After that there was the boarding up 170 and/or Causeway Link to get to Woodlands Checkpoint. 

Then at Woodlands Checkpoint there was the disembarkation to enter the hall where my passport got stamped.

When that finished, I got back up the bus again to cross over to the Malaysian side. 

When we reached the Malaysian side the process repeated itself, down and up, before finally reaching the Larkin Bus Terminal. 

But that was only the first half of the journey. 

There was still the journey on the domestic coaches before we got to the town we were planning to go.

All in all, it made for a tiring journey, made none easier by the weight of the gym bag that I was lugging along.

What bothered me the most, however, weren't the bus steps, but the queues at Immigration on both sides, because the queue moved one step forward every time someone cleared their passport, and there was no way I could put my bag down on the floor unless I picked it up every time, or used my foot to kick it along. 

I wouldn't have minded doing the latter, honestly- it wouldn't have done the bag any harm- but The Parents were there and they weren't the sort to close an eye. 

So I found myself carrying my luggage the entire time both sides of the Causeway, and on weekends, trust me, the crowd was there. 

I don't know how many times I switched between my left and right shoulders whilst standing in the queue waiting to get my passport stamped. 

And then there were still the bus queues at both Queen Street and Larkin Bus Terminals, the bus queues at both Checkpoints, plus the walk from the town's bus station to our hotel.

It was very tiring, I tell you. 

And this was only one way! 

How many weeks I used this green gym bag on our weekend sojourns to Malaysia I no longer remember. 

But I remember paying RM40 for the backpack, and I remember the second floor shop where I bought it from.

Traveling upcountry to Malaysia got so much easier after that. 

No more did I have to content with my luggage clunking me uncomfortably on my hips whenever I walked. 

No more did I have to shift my luggage left to right and right to left whilst queuing at the counters. 

And no more did I have only one hand free to hold the seat rail in front of me whilst standing squashed between other passengers on the public bus back to Singapore. 

There was now no more dead air space inside my luggage bag to make my clothes roll untidily around. 

There was now no need to balance it with a hand on my shoulder whilst standing or walking. 

And I could finally feel more mobile, get up and down the bus easier, be more capable to dash up the bus if necessary, and even if there was no sitting room, there was lesser fear of falling because now I had both hands free. 

It's been more than twenty years since this backpack went upcountry to Malaysia, and now she'll never get to go again. 

But, as someone said not too long ago- she has once been- and for that, I guess, even whilst I refuse to reminisce, it is up to me now to revisit (reconquer) some of those towns that this backpack went to all those years ago, and see it again, with new eyes, and with a new (Decathlon) backpack this time. 

Moving OUT

You know, it's only been about three months thereabouts that these pictures were taken, and yet, somehow, it feels like they had been taken a very long time ago.

Could it be because we packed at a rapid pace and got things moving at a rapid pace? 

Could it be because we were busy with work stuff and all kinds of stuff around the time that we were supposed to move (around end August) and so each of us did it in such a way that whilst it might have been phase by phase, it was also an adrenaline drive sort of thing?

I don't know.

I just know that the last fortnight of August and the first week of September was nothing I had ever experienced before. 

I'm not complaining.

I'm not saying that it was a bad thing. 

I'm just saying that with the kind of life I've lived, I'd never moved from one space to another space before.

I'd never lived my daily life with my things half packed here and there.

I had no idea what it was like to sort things out and pack them into boxes within a very short period of time.

And I had no idea what it took to clear off section by section by section of the house and sort stuff into boxes and cartons and piles and bags. 

It was a bit of a nervous thing for me. 

But because I'm the sort who does things bit by bit by bit- instead of the one-off blitz method which The Hedgehog applies- one of the first things I did was to clean out the top two shelves of the pantry cupboard. 

Let's just say that there were a lot of biscuits (not mine) and a lot of coffees (also not mine) that I threw away.

After that things got a little more systematic- I cleared out a shelf in my room, I unpacked an old carton box in my room to make space for other stuff, and I began clearing out stuff from drawers that I seldom used, throwing away uneaten and expired food that I was keeping only for mementoes' sake, and tossing out things that I no longer cared about and no longer had a meaning to me. 

Let's just say I was glad when these large carton boxes were taken out from the storeroom because I knew I could have more things sorted out, packed in, and- if necessary- thrown out. 

Let's also say I felt that deep sense of satisfaction when I sorted things out into these huge plastic boxes and clipped their lids shut. 

Funny how it is now that I don't remember now what went into where, but the yellow suitcase I've still left unopened as I don't need the things yet inside. 

Perhaps the thing that overwhelmed me most were the piles and piles and piles of paper that were here, there, everywhere. 

I had no idea there were so many letters and papers lying all around the house. 

But there they were- some ready to be packed into boxes, some ready for the shredder.

I think we must have had at least four or five bags full of shredded paper by the end of it all. 

Looking at these pictures, I wonder now how it is we managed to get rid of all the stuff that needed to be gotten rid of, how it is we managed to sort everything out, how it is that we managed to pack what we needed to pack, and how it is we managed to find space for the clothes to the toiletries to the kitchen stuff to the knick knacks lying around here and there. 

It's a miracle that we somehow managed to clean up and empty out the apartment within the span of (more or less) within a week.

I won't soon forget just how natural the "mess" in the house surfaced.  

How empty spaces here and there became space filled with random stuff here and there, and how as we neared towards the move-out date, even the long (show) couch  became so filled with stuff that there was only a tiny little corner for me to sit on. 

I won't go into details of what we kept and what we threw- by that time I was no longer in the spirit to document anything- but let's just say that there were multiple trips to the dustbin downstairs, including, if I may say, our still fully decorated six-year old Christmas tree.

There were a couple of things we didn't take along.

Like the clock on the wall.

Like some of the cleaning stuff in the cupboard underneath the sink

And odds and ends like the safe, a sackful of plastic bags big and small, and four bags of water. 

Hotel Jen Tanglin

I was thankful, no, overjoyed, when told that we'd be heading to one of my favorite downtown hotels for a weekend breather. 

It didn't matter to me that I was very familiar with the place, that I'd gone there many a time (over the years), and that I'd been there not too long ago, in fact, only a couple of months earlier this year.

Because every weekend breather is different. 

And no two times at Hotel Jen Tanglin is the same.

I was hoping, for instance, to be able to have a picturesque stroll at the Botanic Gardens- just down the road- this time round. 

But, as it turned out, I didn't.

There was no time. 

Exactly what it was we did that enabled me to have no time (again!), I don't' know. 

It might have been that instead of going down Holland Road, we went down to Orchard Road. 

It might have been that instead of wandering about the trees of the 164-yeard old UNESCO World Heritage site, we were busily bobbing up and down between the malls of ION, Wisma, Paragon, Ngee Ann City and 313 Somerset looking at the shops, and everything that they had to offer.

One of the things we (very likely) did was to go down to the Cold Storage in Tanglin Mall because we like looking at the meats and the salmons and the frozen fruits and the cheeses and the snacks that they have there. 

And very likely we went to the Little Farms store in the same mall because they've got great sea salt dippers (nachos) at a wonderful price over there. 

One thing I'm pretty sure of is that this breather wasn't one of those tedious ones that we sometimes have. 

And I'm glad for that. 

Because it means that we got to appreciate the room better.

It means that, unlike the previous time where we spent a good amount of time painstakingly going through bound books in red and blue, this time there was none of those work-related stuff we had to do, and i could spend more time looking out the window to the (allocated) view beyond. 

Sure, it's not panoramic like the view of some other properties might be, but that's how it is here at Hotel Jen Tanglin, where you get sight of Camden Medical Center, the Singapore Tourism Board building, and a lot of condominiums once you look out the window. 

It's not all that bad. 

Beyond Grange Road, you get a view of the trees, the roofs of pretty little houses, more trees, then somewhere in the distance, what I think is part of Tanglin Road, and Alexandra Road. 

Perhaps one of the things I do remember most about this breather were the meals that we had. 

The meals that we have are all just as meaningful as I sitting on the couch, lounging on the bed with my book and phone, and watching Chinese movies on the cable channel with a bag of chips in between.

I remember the nice, slow hotpot lunch at Happy Lamb over at Pacific Plaza on Scotts Road where, besides the thinly-sliced, symmetrically arranged slices of fresh, cold beef, there was lettuce, cute little handmade meat balls, and spongy, triangular-shaped pieces of soft tofu.

I also remember breakfast next morning at J65 where, besides my cup of coffee, I loaded my plate with a small portion of fried noodles (I can never resist), chunks of dragon fruit, an omelet with cheese, mushrooms and onions, a quarter of waffle that I saw was fresh out of the pan, and... ice cream.

It might have been a simple, quiet getaway that I had this time, but there's nothing that I didn't love about this breather at Hotel Jen Tanglin. 

No doubt, I didn't get to go to the Botanic Gardens (again).

But there'll be another time, I'm sure.

And I'll definitely fuel up more at the breakfast buffet this time. 

Laksa @ Bedok Interchange

Most people I know will not take a picture of their (unbranded) laksa bowl at an (unbranded) eating place, much less write a post about it. 

But if you're anything like me who loves laksa- for its gravy- and who hasn't had it for a long time, thanks no thanks to the diet, trust me, you will take a pretty little picture, you will post about it, and you will write a little something about it as well. 

To be honest I can't tell whether or not this bowl of laksa was a good one. 

I just eat. 

But I so happened to be at Bedok Bus Interchange this particular afternoon, and because we were rolling for time, we decided that it better to have a quick lunch at their canteens instead of trying to find the lift to get to the restaurants in Bedok Mall below. 

There arent' many places at Bedok Bus Interchange where one can sit down comfortably and have a meal.

There's one cai fan place tucked behind an unobtrusive door that I heard is exclusive for the bus drivers.

There's a nasi padang/nasi lemak place that catches my eye every time I'm there because they always have mountains of fried bee hoon, fried kuay teow and fried noodles on display. 

Further on nearer to the back there's a bakery, and a second cai fan place that also offers coffee and which anyone can go sit down.

We thought we might go to this cai fan place, but then the bus berth we were going to was nearer to the nook of a wall called You Tiao Mei, so we settled for this instead.

You Tiao Mei is known for their local desserts, their fried snacks and their offerings of chicken curry, laksa, mee siam and the like. 

I was so tempted to have their fried snacks, I tell you. 

The hum chim pang, the goreng pisang and the butterfly looked sooooo good. 

But one must have a proper meal at lunch time especially if you're going to be pushing a wheelchair around, so laksa it was. 

Shall I say it was good?

Yes.

Never mind that they didn't have hum.

There was a huge portion of thick bee hoon, there were slices of fish cake and a small prawn (I think) somewhere beneath all that soup. 

The bowl might not have been chock full of huge ingredients like some other (branded) places do, but for a great affordable price of $5, it filled me up, it was satisfying, and yes, I drank up all the soup. 

Easter Eggs @ HH

I should have written this article a couple of months ago.

But there were many... things happening during the Easter season of 2023 and I didn't have spirit, energy nor time to write about the celebration with The Parent back then.

(I still don't have the spirit now, but I'm now slightly better, and I hope things will only get better and better thereafter)

The celebration this year was a little different from what ours were in years prior. 

Not that it wasn't enjoyable nor fun, but we decided to cut out most of the decor, and just stick to what was essential. 

Easter to me is not only about the bunnies and the eggs but it is also about the Hope that exists in the Spirit, which grants me hope in my spirit- day by day, hour by hour. 

I don't usually talk about faith and belief and spirituality, but shall I just say that since the beginning of this year I have faithfully begun my day placing my hope in the Hope that exists in the Spirit, and had it not been for the Spirit's faithfulness and love, I (very likely) would not have come this far. 

Maybe I would not even be writing here. 

Yes, that's how it has been for me. 

But here I am, in the month of September, finally being able to have a bit more spirit, pluck and energy to keep this event in the month of April/May moving. 

It would've been lovely had we had the little flower decor out on the table, but for some reason it wasn't there, and I didn't think it necessary to ask further either. 

What mattered more was that there was a routine, a regularity, a presence with whatever it was we had. 

On the table was lunch, a dish of economical rice with brinjals, pumpkins, and hard boiled eggs bought from a coffee shop elsewhere. 

Accompanying our lunch were cups of coffee. 

For dessert we had a little chocolate brownie that I'd bought several months ago and which we decided we'd only eat now. 

We quite fancied the brownie. 

At first I feared it might be hard, but to my delight, it turned out to be rather moist, slightly chewy, and best of all, rich with chocolatey taste on the palate. 

A couple of chores awaited us after that, and then it was time for an early dinner. 

It didn't matter that I wasn't that hungry. 

More important it was to have our meal slow and steady, so out came the box of dinner from the fridge where we transferred the food into the tiffin carrier  before dropping the whole thing into the rice cooker.

There were vegetables- stewed cabbage, more pumpkins, some of those black fungus thingies, hard boiled eggs, then a serving of self-added luncheon meat that created a bit of additional flavor to the entire meal. 

The Parent took an especial liking to the stewed cabbage and the luncheon meat. 

I preferred the black fungus and the hard boiled eggs. 

Those specially-stewed/brewed eggs went surprisingly well with rice. 

It was a nice time having our dinner together with cups of hot coffee. 

And what closed it well, of course, was a dessert snack of Christmas tree-shaped shortbread cookies that I'd given as a present for Christmas last year but planned to only have it now. 

Still, that wasn't all. 

We had chocolate candies- pastel colored M&Ms and candy-coated mini eggs from Cadbury- which I'd purchased for the occasion, and which, I'm glad to say, we both shared, and we found it suited for a celebration of The Resurrection rather well. 

Happy Lamb Hotpot

I like this place.

Yes, it is on the expensive side, but it's good. 

I don't know if it's because of the decor, the little lamb models sitting right near the entrance, or the plating, but there seems to need a bit of propriety when having a meal at this place, and it's good.

At least I know that the food will not only be presented prettily, it will be fresh, and good. 

Happy Lamb Hotpot speaks of themselves as a Mongolian style hotpot. 

To be honest, the urbanized, less-traveled me doesn't quite know what an authentic Mongolian hotpot is- I don't think I've ever tried one per se- but if it's close to whatever's here, I think it should be good. 

The soup here is one of the most heartening ones I've ever had.

It's the kind of soup that's got a lot of herbs and tonic stuff in it, and I think there's collagen inside, but then again there's so much floating about that you don't really know what they are. The only thing I recognized inside the pot were the cordyceps, and the red dates- and gigantic ones they were. 

The star dish to order here is of course the beef. 

Which of the beef selections we ordered, I don't know (my friend did the ordering) but those that came were huge, wide, and beautifully sliced. 

What charmed me most wasn't just how fresh, and cold they were, but how aesthetically they were arranged. There must have been quite a bit of effort somewhere if all these slices were laid one over the other so neatly and so symmetrically.

It was fun to lift up each slice- so big it was- and dunk it into the soup.

And it was fun too to separate this fish meat thing (that's what I think it was) from its bamboo holder and drop them clump by clump by clump into the soup. One of us used the spoon. Another one of us used the chopsticks. 

This afternoon I'd decided I wanted a dish of lettuce as well. 

Vegetables in soup are my thing- they always have been- I like leaving them in the pot for as long as possible, and the sight of big, green, cheerful-looking leaves soaked with the flavor of collagen-rich soup delights me and makes me smile. 

The one thing I really liked about the food here weren't the meats of the hotpot though. 

It were the skewers. 

No doubt I wondered how a hotpot place like this has skillfully grilled skewers, but it didn't matter because these were perfectly done. 

Beautifully marinated, there was no tough chew, and full-flavored the fat of the meats were. 

Best part, they were so crispy. 

I had a great time sliding them off the skewer, taking small bites as I nibbled through them. 

All in all we've been to Happy Lamb Hotpot two times.

And the second time was no different from the first. 

We ordered the same soup. 

We ordered the same orders of beef.

But this time we chose a smaller portion, we decided on an additional order of hand-rolled meat balls, there was still the lettuce, and then there was a dish of square-shaped soft tofu. 

It didn't matter that this time we had no view- literally at one corner of the restaurant behind the cartons of beer, right in front of the VIP room. 

We had a marvelous time all the same. 

Kim San Leng Coffee Shop

Okay, wait, wait, wait....

Before y'all start wondering what this is gonna be about, let me first say that No, I'm not on some juncture of coffee shop reviews, and No, I'm not here to write (with intent) about the stalls or the food or whatsoever. 

It's just that- like how my kopi at Kimly was- I so happened to be here for lunch one Friday afternoon, I so happened to order from this particular stall, and I so happened to take the picture. 

Can I say that I was completely clueless about Kim San Leng, that I didn't know it at all?

No, I can't.

Because I've seen this coffee shop a good many times before. 

Except that it's only ever been through the windows of the bus. 

I've never eaten at them before. 

There's been no chance. 

But then we've now moved to a place where it makes sense to just go around explore, and so one hot afternoon we walked all the way down one of the Lorongs, made a right, came to this junction where Changi Road meets Telok Kurau, and decided to eat there.

I was very tempted by the chap cai png actually, but it was a weekday midweek (diet and all) and so I couldn't have a plate of rice- even as much as I wanted to.

Then I wanted to try the zichar maybe, but it was day time and the dishes felt a bit more suited for dinner time. 

There was still the (well-known) Fried Rice stall that I was eagerly anticipating to try but then they accepted nothing else but hard cash- which of all things we so happened not to have- so we decided to order from this Grill stall instead.

Was it good?

Ummm... I don't know.

I was told that the pork chop was tender and soft.

And even though I can't say that my order was fantastic, like something I would walk 20 minutes under a hot burning sun for, but it had a familiar taste to it, and I liked the clean taste of the grilled dory, with the fun (deep fried) taste of onion rings and a big scoop of soft, buttery-flavored whipped potato. 

Perhaps one day- if I happen to be in the area- I might order their fish and chips or their fried chicken, but this grilled dory was certainly one of their healthier options, and no surprise, what with Parkway East Hospital on Joo Chiat Place a couple of steps behind.

Lola's Waffles

I got absolutely excited, I tell you, when a friend told me about this place 'somewhere along Kovan' that served waffles, ice cream, cakes, and coffee.

Not merely because I happened to know Lola's neighborhood (fairly) well, but because I take a great fancy to waffles, brunch foods, ice cream and coffee, and I love having them whenever I've got a chance to be there.

The excitement of going to Lola's, however, didn't begin only after I arrived at the cafe.

It began with the journey attempting to get there.

Come to think of it, it was rather silly, actually. 

Most people will just hop on a bus to take them to their destination especially when they want to do lunch, but gey kiang me decided that since we were already close to the stadium, hey, might as well walk through Florence Lane, go via the road near All Saints' Home, and get to the cafe on Simon Road the other side.

In the end, a much longer walk it became, and instead of late morning, it was almost lunch by the time we got there.

But, well, we did. 

And what a wonderful meal it was we had.

You know, there was something about Lola's that reminds me of Tiong Bahru's Forty Hands. 

Maybe it was the environment.

Maybe it was the menu.

Maybe it was the water jug they used. 

I don't know. 

But the menu here at Lola's is a rather extensive one. 

Never mind that the dinner menu was off the cards at the hour of 1215pm, there was the Bacon and Mushroom Truffle Cream Linguine, there was the Crab Cake Benedict, there was the Pulled Pork and Avocado Eggs Benedict, there was the Mushroom Grilled Cheese Sandwich, and the Shakshuka. 

I was attracted by the Lola's Breakfast. 

It looked so extensive, with Light Buttered Sourdough, Tater Tots, Bacon Steak, Pork Sausages and Scrambled Eggs. 

But we had already ordered a bowl of Nacho Cheese Tater Tots from the All-Day Menu, and we couldn't have that many of those little fried potatoes anymore. 

After a bit of discussion, we decided on the Tsukune Sando. 

To tell the truth, it was a tough decision between the Tsukune Sando and the Pulled Pork Avocado Eggs Benedict- I mean, a sando is really just a well-stuffed sandwich- but then this sando came with one of my favorite breads- the Brioche- and besides the Chicken Tsukune, there were interesting accompaniments like the Tamagoyaki, the Cheddar Cheese and Furikake aioli. 

So the Sando it was.

And we didn't regret it. 

There're two ways one can go about eating this sandwich. 

Either have it in a single big bite- a mouthful of chicken, tamago, brioche and aioli all at the same time- or, like me, separate everything out, and eat each one on its own.

I think I actually had the brioche toast with my hands. 

Nevertheless, a delicious sando it was, very filling, very satisfying, and I think we would have been enough with it together with the tater tots and the Uji Matcha Green Tea latte, but then we had come here for the waffles, and the waffles we would have. 

This made for an even more difficult decision, because on one hand I was interested in the Strawberry Cheesecake Waffle, but on the other hand, there was also the Hazelnut Waffle and the Pandan Coconut Waffle.

I didn't know which to choose. 

There were two that I particularly wanted- the Strawberry Cheesecake and the Pandan Coconut.

But by then we were full, and we could only order one.

So Pandan Coconut it was (because of the gula melaka drizzle) and a most fantastic choice it turned out to be. 

I loved the crusty crispiness of the waffle.

I loved its aesthetics with two pieces on the plate, and two pieces arranged upright like a pair of wings.  

Then there was the rich infusion of pandan essence mixed within the waffle batter, there were the soft mushy bananas that created a contrast of textures, and there was the big scoop of coconut sorbet- lightly sweet, yet full of taste.