Sulplise!

Against all odds, we have made it to the one year mark. Fighting against our innate inability to commit to anything - jobs, plans (did you guys ever make it to Sungei Buloh?), among other things - our little blog has lasted. Congrats all round except for the four laggards who are trying to pretend that Xi Yan, Braise, Forlino's and Ember didn't happen (you know who you are! and at least XL tried to come up with some excuse that anything less than five attendees doesn't count (?!?) - how about the rest of you!?).

Spruce was really quite lovely. It's on a hill somewhere deep within Tanglin Road, with an outdoorsy/kampongy type of feel. (Long aside - I write "hill" because as we walked to the carpark, JL rushed up to me and said, "Can you drive me down the hill to my car? I can't walk down the hill in my heels." So I looked into the distance using my long-range eyesight, trying to figure out what "hill" she meant? Perhaps the whole Phoenix Park area is on a hill? Perhaps we have been dangled precariously on a hill the whole time without my noticing? Perhaps the high altitude accounted for YY's extreme drunkard behaviour (see below)? But I could not see anything. So I valiantly asked, "What hill?" JL said, "Don't worry, just drive and I'll show you where the bottom of the hill is." So I started driving, and ONE SECOND LATER, down the slope connecting one part of the carpark to the other, JL said, "We're here!")

I arrived late as usual, only to be greeted by a more-bewildering-than-usual performance from the gang. YY,"Take a look at the sulplise I made for EL!" Me,"Huh?" YY,"Sulplise! Sulplise! I made a sulplise for EL's bilthday!" EL,"It's morten chocorate cake!" Yes, I think I am now getting it. Suffice to say, they couldn't be stopped, EVEN WHEN THE WAITER WAS IN OUR ROOM. Or, "Even when the waitel was in oul loom."

The food was pretty good. There was some onion crepe thing, which is vile by definition as I strongly resent onions, but the truffle sauce it was in was great. We also had the ahi tuna tartare, which was fantastic, especially the little crispy pieces of bread that came with. I think we also had some fried squid thing but I can't particularly remember it. For mains, quite a few of us had the Spruce burger, which actually lived up to its reputation and was really great. I know we intuitively think that a thick meat patty is good for a gourmet burger, but it sometimes ends up being overwhelmingly meaty. The Spruce meat patty was of the perfect thickness - not too thick - and tasty, and came with this fantastic mustard that complemented the burger exactly - and I don't even like mustard. I didn't try what everyone else had, so, too bad. Can't remember the desserts as well, except that a few people had complaints that the panna cotta tasting too much like some breakfast yoghurt granola thing. We also had YY's morten chocorate cake, and I think it speaks volumes about YY when everyone paused significantly before sticking our forks into it. When actual chocolate came out - as opposed to noodles, parachutes, little children, etc - we breathed a sigh of relief and ate it happily.

The conversation then turned to YH's upcoming 2 month long work trip to HK. Her pressing problem was that she did not want to give the Hyatt $15 for every piece of clothing that had to be washed, and unfortunately, HK, not being an angmoh country, does not have coin-operated laundromats as far as we could remember. Of course, to be honest, the last time we were all in HK together, we spent 3/4 of our time in some Esprit or another - this was 7 years ago, be kind - so there could have been a thousand laundromats around for all we know. But, assuming that there aren't, these were our suggestions for YH's laundry woes.

YY: Wash the clothes in your bathtub.

ML: Jackie Chan does that.

YH: (Makes a face.) I don't wear tank tops all the time you know. (Subtext: Like you guys do.) (Response to subtext: We so don't, at least probably not since the last time we were all in HK together.) I can't be wringing water out of my jeans. I'm not Jackie Chan.

YY: Lay your wet jeans in the bathtub, and step all over them to squeeze the water out.

YH: (Ignores comment.)

ML: Bring enough clothes for 2 months.

YH: (Ignores comment.)

JL: Bring enough clothes for one week, and when EL and I come visit you, we will bring additional weeks of new clothes and take your old ones home.

YH: (Ignores comment.)

ML: Go swimming with your clothes on.

YH: How does this help the wringing the jeans issue??

In the end, we decided to go with the sensible (read: boring and non-Jackie Chan sanctioned option) of looking for one of those mom and pop shops that wash your clothes for you. But why there would be one around the Grand Hyatt is beyond me. (YH: If you are reading this, we hope you found one.) Having solved YH's problem, we decided to go home and stop make a pest of ourselves. ("You stopped serving drinks?? It's only 11pm!!""So sorry M'am, actually we closed some time back.") We went back down the hill. The hill.