The decision to go out for prata was really one of those impulsive ones that come upon you when it's the weekend.
We had not planned to.
And because it hadn't been in the plan I had (initially) said no.
But then I thought about it again and agreed with my friend that, yes, we ought to go.
It would be silly not to.
I have, after all, moved meself here to the East Coast Road side of the East Coast- a mere 20 minute walk away from Tin Yeang Coffee House where the stall of Mr. and Mrs Mohgan's stands.
Why should I not go?
Mr. and Mrs. Mohgan's prata entered my life since the time when they were down the road at Crane Road. The coffee shop back there was brighter, hotter, more crowded. I loved the prata, I didn't quite appreciate the discomfort from the glare and the heat. I also thought the kopi a bit more diluted than I would have preferred.
Fortunately it wasn't too long- a couple of years after- that they shifted to this coffee house at the junction of Dunman Road and Joo Chiat Road, and- fans of their prata that we were- we followed them here.
But as life goes, we weren't able to come back here for three years, so, yes, I had that bit of excitement walking down Joo Chiat from the East Coast Road side this time.
One thing I am very glad for is that the atmosphere of Tin Yeang Coffee House has not changed.
You still need to fight for a table.
And in best of situations, you will still need to share a table.
It is a bit of a pity that the wanton noodle stall run by two ladies has since closed.
But Mr. and Mrs. Mohgan is still there.
She's busy as ever, Mrs. Mohgan, but definitely no less coordinated as she was all those years before. From the table right outside her stall, she took our orders, writing them down inside the big ledger book, communicated them to the person working the grill behind her, and proceeded to call out the numbers whose orders were ready.
There were twenty people in front of us.
But it didn't matter.
I had the phone.
I had the videos on the phone.
There was a cup of teh o kosong in front of me.
So we waited.
The wait seemed shorter than expected, actually.
I had thought we'd have to wait an hour and a half, but no, our plates arrived just under an hour, and the warm, crispy pratas there were completely worth the wait.
Seeing this on my plate brought back a couple of memories. They are a bit vague now but it is difficult for me to forget how life was when I used to eat this week after week.
The prata kosong tastes just as light and crispy as it has always been. There's still that hint of salty flavor (from the ghee, I presume) that comes with every bite of the crepe, and which taste only gets enhanced when you dip it in the small dish of delicious mutton curry.
Same goes too for the egg plaster prata.
Different people eat it differently. Some eat through the prata from one side all the way to the end, choosing to cut through the egg and eat as they go. Others, however, like me, eat all around the egg and then work on both the egg and the prata together at the same time.
My favorite part of this egg plaster prata has to be the yolk.
I love how the yolk slides its way smoothly out onto the prata itself, so much so that the crepe alone becomes just that little bit extra without being overwhelmed with taste. It is always a joy to taste the flour of the crepe together with the distinctive taste of yolk, just as it is, actually, with the white as well.
The one thing that always stands out to me whenever I have Mr. and Mrs Mohgan's is the curry.
People have previously told me that her curry is not to be missed.
And it's true.
I don't know how she does it, but there is a certain thickness in the curry that makes it neither too sweet nor too salty, not even oily, and best of all, it can literally be drunk (or sipped) on its own without the need to dip the crepe in.
I sometimes do that.
Especially when on the day I decide to ask Mrs. Mohgan for sugar and she very generously gives me a heap.
You know, I really think I ought to be go back there again.
After all I have been in this area for four months plus and it makes no sense that I have only gone there for the grand total of... one time.