Tuesday, August 30, 2011

My Friend's ROM dinner at Oriole Coffee Bar

First of all, congratulations!!! If similarity in looks are a measure of compatibility, you are a true match in love. I already mentally applaud his wife for agreeing to live with his family. Amazing, in this day and age. Who says all Singaporean girls are GCP? Just me I guess *haha*.
I wasn't quite sure what the arrangement was like, when I received the e-invite. Were we also invited to the ROM? I knew at least that it wasn't going to be held at the cafe bar. Hmm. So I rushed B1 to the place, and then I was flabbergasted that the restaurant gave us seats outside, right next to the door. WTF. It was going to be one hot meal. Only a small family of three were there. We excused ourselves and ran off to the Knightsbridge TOPMAN. They didn't have the size we wanted, so we ran back and discovered that everyone had arrived together. How did they do that?
In the end, we lost our more favorable seats and ended up sitting right next to the door. Night fell and we ended up reading our menus by candlelight, which I hated. It was so stuffy. I initiallly wanted to order the ribs, but didn't because I was ravenous and didn't want to end up wearing the ribs on my dress (I tend to drop food on myself). I could see that our friend was exhausted. His sister who I also know, showed us the clip from the afternoon of the ROM ceremony. Oh. 
Before I went to the ceremony, I was talking to the guys as I was packing up, and wondered aloud if we would end up eating with strangers. Ye, we did. It was awkward. We took turns talking to our friend. I kept pumping in cold water and ended up ordering a panna cotta dessert and a milkshake, in the vain hope that they would cool me down. Nope. I ran off to the shopping mall to go to the washroom, and did a little window shopping while trying to cool down. 

We ordered some steak. The doneness was not bad, but the fries were crap. Now that I look at the photo (I couldn't see a thing that night, if a fly had landed on the plate and not moved, I can guarantee you that I would be wolfing it down in seconds), I realize they were drinking oil (and were burnt at the other end, no wonder they tasted burnt).

I whispered to B1 that we were sweating like pigs and staring into the air-conditioned cafe like the Little Match Girl staring into the rich people's houses. It was stupid of the restaurant to stick us outside where we couldn't see a thing, and tuck us into one tiny corner with a row of tables, that they had problems delivering food to the right people, and ended up yelling like fishmongers at a market. I could see my friend alternating between exhaustion and being incredibly PISSED.

You would think that with the money he was paying, they would accommodate us with some decent seating in the restaurant.

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