The last supper



Supper by candlelight

 We have been amongst the most fortunate of expats in our 4 years in Singapore, having had the privilege of staying in one of the island's loveliest and most sought after apartment blocks, Ardmore Park.  If you have visited us here, you will be aware of how lovely it is, but sadly, today marks the end of our stay.  I say sadly, because, alas, we do not have the £5 million or so needed to buy a place here.  If you think that's expensive for a flat, then ponder this:  We recently received a flyer from a real estate firm about a "VVIP preview" of a new development which consists of 43 apartments, each priced at 16.8 million Singapore dollars - apart from the penthouse, that is, which comes in at 60 million!!!!!!!  Needless to say, we won't be calling for an appointment.

We are moving to a new apartment, in a block called the Arte, which we pronounce "ART" but which our interior designer pronounces "ARTAY".  I've no idea which of us is right, and who cares anyway.  The funniest thing about the move (and let's be honest, there is very little that is funny about moving house) is that I discovered recently that our new address - Jalan Raja Udang (it's Malay) means King Prawn Street.  Really.  Not a word of a lie.  Honestly.  Those of you who know me will think this is incredibly apt, as I am a fiend for the king prawn and its many relatives.  I must find out how it came to have this name, as I seriously doubt that it's in honour of me.

Anyway, back to the last supper of the title.  We figured, with bits of furniture disappearing around us, that we should celebrate the life that was Ardmore, in an appropriate way.  This took two forms.  The first was a dinner last Saturday for 10 of our good friends, a sort of full monty event with fine wine, pretty decent food and great conversation.  There were fancy little canapes on Chinese porcelain spoons, slow cooked lamb (a big hit this one), rare roast beef and summer berries three different ways.  To be fair to my guests, I think two of the three ways worked pretty well, but the third was no more than so-so.  We live and learn.

This was the end to formal  entertaining at Ardmore, which has seen formal dinners for up to 24, catered by my lovely sister and myself and we gave the place a pretty good send off, I think.  Last night was quite different.  We had spent the day with the movers taking our stuff to France, of which we thought there was very little but it turned out to be 69 boxes.  Weird, n'est-ce pas?  France and 69?  If you don't get it, I can't help you, I'm afraid.  Don't call, just ask your friends.......



This was so good!



Suffice to say, we were jolly tired at the end of the day and did not feel like cooking, so we ordered in from our favourite local Indian, the Song of India http://www.thesongofindia.com/, for our last supper.  Chris is a frequent flyer there, so he knows the menu pretty well, which is handy, as they don't actually publish it anywhere, even though they have a website. Go figure.

We were in the mood for a spot of pampering, so we ordered the lobster moiley (lobster in a lovely creamy, mildly spicy sauce) and some potato with cauliflower (aloo gobi) as an accompaniment.  Both were delicious, although the aloo gobi was a tad hot, so much so that I had to issue a formal apology to my bottom this morning.  Still not sure if it's been accepted......