For the past few months I’ve noticed that restaurants are increasing their prices across the board–from the holes-in-the-wall joints to the high-end ones while at the same time portions are getting smaller.
On top of that, many restaurants also seem to be on the downhill when it comes to the quality of their food.
Not a good trend.
Three years ago today I lost one of my best friends in a mountain climbing accident, and three days later, sometimes about 9-10pm I came across an email from a close friend of ours telling me to call him at any time. Stupid me thought it was good news. And it was only when I had to re-read the email to get the second phone number (he had listed three different numbers) that I realized the instruction to call him “at any time of the day” was not an indication of good news.
Patrick Wang was my first friend when I moved to the US. His house was about a 10-15 min. walk from my apartment, though later on getting to his house became a matter of crossing the backyard of my apartment, someone else’s backyard, that same person’s front yard, and then across the street and a few houses down the left.
I still remember the first time I had to call-in sick and miss school for a day. Pat was the person I called to ask about homework (all I remember is the awkward English I used, specifically, “… from what number to what number?”). I remember being so nervous as I was speaking a foreign language, despite the 2-3 years of classes I had already received by then.
But that was all in the distant past.
A few years later we developed a close friendship (especially after the infamous “Doc Project” for our Advanced World History class in 10th grade) and he was also the first person I called and got in touch with after moving to Alabama in the summer between my 10th and 11th grade. He was “quite honored” I recall him saying over the phone. And since then our friendship was nearly exclusively phone/email based as we were always quite a distance apart, though we were geographically nearby when I attended university in Connecticut and him in our hometown State College, PA. However, where I ended-up in Boston after graduating, he ended-up at first in California and then Oregon. And so our phone/email friendship continued.
Actually, now that we were on our own and could afford our own phone bills the “phone” portion became a bit more noticeable though it was still mostly all emails. And to this day this is where I really feel that I dropped the ball.
When I still lived in the US he called me up once a month (almost religioiusly) but sometimes I avoided his call. And now, now I can only wonder what he would have thought of Sydney as he was set to visit around mid-2005.
So today, on this day, I promise and hope to be a better friend to all my friends, many of whom I know I’ve neglected. Just as Pat called me up once a month, then maybe it’s up to me to keep in touch with some of you.
He was a friend, a rock star, a nerd, an Intel engineer, an adventurer, a traveller, a photographer …
… a dear friend whom I sorely miss still.
Well, the return of my interest in politics was decidedly short, and probably for the better for most people. After all, who’d want a sane person actually running the country. Ron Paul may not have been the most charismatic talker or most uplifting, but the man is a damn genius, of sound mind, and … well, just too good for the American public. My good friend Mr. Pengo provides a far better discourse on this topic over various entries at his blog. Check it out if you’re interested.
That aside, I finally got Guitar Hero 3 for the Wii last week. Not sure about elsewhere, but here in Australia Activision recently released a “limited edition” double-guitar set for the Wii and with a 15% pre-Easter sale I got the whole thing for AUD 170 (it was 169.something). Not a bad purchase especially as it already had a chance to liven-up a party.
Also of recent interest was my work trip to Tokyo. Not much to say as I was pretty much working every day but I did get a free day on my day of arrival (Sunday) and an old friend from Wesleyan, Janice, was kind enough to take me around Ginza, which happened to be just next door to where I was staying, Marunouchi. My last night there, a Friday night, was mostly a blur with much drinking and laughing capped by a 4.30am trip to Tsukiji Fish Market for some fresh sushi breakfast. Unfortunately for me I was rather ill after staying up the whole night and just managed to wolf down my food. But yes, it was fresh.
On this trip I discovered that Banana Republic now has a store at Paragon in Singapore and also at multiple locations in Tokyo (one of which was practically across the street from my hotel)! Now if only their American website will ship internationally.
I attended the Easter Mass this past Sunday but was mostly bored and falling asleep as I stayed-up rather late the night before watching The Prestige and it was standing room only at St. Mary’s Cathedral. Thankfully I had a pillar to lean on. I have to admit I still have mixed feelings about attending a Novus Ordo mass, even if this was a “Solemn” Mass (is there any other kind?) which apparently meant that much of it was sung (in English). I can only imagine a Latin High Mass being celebrated inside St. Mary’s–it’s actually quite a decent cathedral.
The SonyEricsson W910i phone is a pretty damn sexy phone, especially the red colored one. I got one for my girlfriend as her old Nokia guaranteed a one-sided conversation for anyone whom she called (or called her on) from it and now I can’t help but drool over it every time I see it. Between the crappy 5MP camera on my new K850i (the old K800i produced far better images than this) and the stupid firmware issues SE has with this phone I wish I could exchange it. The biggest reason though is the little “H” icon at the top of her display that I see all the time. I switched to Telstra as I was getting fed-up with Optus (for a variety of reasons) and also because I wanted to get on their NextG network (their branding for HSDPA). Telstra, however used the 850 frequency–unlike all the other local provider or most of the world for that matter–so I had to make sure my phone would be able to use the 850 frequency. However, ever since I brought this phone back from Singapore all I see is “3G” and “H” only very rarely. Her phone (which is only capable of using UMTS 2100), on the other hand, is always showing “H” on Optus’ network. -sigh-
About a year and two weeks ago I was flying out of Shanghai on my way to Singapore before heading home when I asked one of the wonderful flight attendants for their writing kit. All I wanted was just a few pieces of paper to write on but I got the “kit”: a slim heavy paper container with a few sheafs of paper (about A5 size), a few postcards, envelopes, and a pen.
I was rather inspired that morning (not to mention lacking a book to pass away the time and I had already seen all the movies I wanted to see on the way over). On the walk from the lounge to the terminal I passed by another terminal where a Garuda plane had parked itself, setting off in motion one thought after another in my head. The question I eventually wrestled with that morning on flight SQ815 was what made for a good American ex-pat behavior, especially one who is a conservative. This is a particularly interesting question because the Republican party, the party of Conservatives, had been hijacked by two opposing factions, neither of which are something to be proud of: the neo-cons and their pursuit of global hegemony or the so-called traditional conservatives which actually were just your traditional isolationists. Either way, not a good example of an American, especially for one who was living abroad and traveled every now and then for work.
Then there were the other American ex-pats or travelers to consider as well: the liberals who are so ashamed of our country that they would waste no time in trashing America, highlighting only our failures, and the more stereotypical loud-mouthed American tourist. As much as I hate to admit it, this stereotype, like many others, exist because it is true (not that other countries are not without their loud-mouthed tourists: soccer thugs, British stag-party goers in Prague, etc.).
Out of this I realized that traditional conservatives, those of us who love our country and yet are also open to the beauty and strengths of other nations, other cultures, are the perfect ambassadors for America. We love our country yet we are not blind to her faults, nor would we overlook the achievement of others. We are the carriers of that “American Dream”, of the values of America: of freedom, self-discipline, self-reliance, and generosity.
I looked-up quickly at the flight monitor and noted that it was just around 11:44 local airspace time and that we had just flown past Ho Chi Minh City but still (presumably) inside Vietnamese airspace. Vietnam: at that moment the baggage the name brings to someone who went through the American education system came up and yet, at the same time, from up here it was just another South-East Asian country. (One I now wanted to visit in fact.) And it was here that I finished my rough draft with the following conclusion:
After all, if the French and Italian can try to out-boast each other as to who’s better (as my two colleagues around me at the time would do on a daily basis), if the Singaporeans and Malaysians can trade friendly barbs, why can’t we Americans be proud of our homeland? Why must we always be apologizing for everything?
And yet, all this time this rough-draft sat inside the little box the papers had originally come in, sitting on my shelf untouched and mostly out of sight. Sometimes, I thought to myself, I really didn’t care anymore. In fact, I have been generally pretty apathetic toward anything political. And as much as I cherished my American citizenship, I was not thinking of returning anytime soon. I didn’t know of a place in the country where people cherished the same values I held, the ones I thought of as uniquely American.
“Where would you raise your kids?” People would ask. Ideally this would be the US, I thought to myself, but where? On the other hand, if I could pick any place in the world, what would I pick? I had no answer.
Lately, however, I feel my optimism returning and I’m even following the lead-up to the Primaries in the US. What changed?
For the longest time I had become disenchanted, disillusioned, and all but given up on the democratic system. Democracy, I would argue, is just a people-approved tyranny with the numbers to legitimize it. But this guy is just about the most honest politician I’ve ever known. I can’t say I agree with all his stances, but I have to admit that with his honesty, I’d vote for him even if he was running as a Democrat. On top of his refreshing honesty he’s also a strict Constitutionalist, has a 100% consistent voting record, and, for the love of God, the man ANSWERS your questions. Watch his interviews and if his plain-speaking style doesn’t immediately grab you, then I hope his answers would because he actually answers the questions! (Unlike all other politicians who are always brushing off questions and saying whatever they felt like.)
For instance, see the following videos:
1. Ron Paul opening a can of whoop-ass on an “upset” Giuliani (I particularly liked this one)
2. Ron Paul on CBS’ Face the Nation (Part 1)
3. Ron Paul on CBS’ Face the Nation (Part 2)
There you go. If you want more, visit his official homepage, and if you like what you see then be sure you donate however much you can on the Tea Party money-bomb on December 16th:
I started this blog (well, this version at least) by writing about the worm on my oyster shell at Tetsuya’s. Well, a year and a few weeks later I was able to make the second visit I mentioned in the earlier entry and do a proper call on the restaurant: Is it worth the hype? Does it truly belong to be the #5 restaurant in the world?
No and no.
I’m not sure just what the hell got up the reviewers’ asses that they would make this Sydney’s #1 fine-dining scene or who in their right mind would make this restaurant the fifth best in the world.
I visited Tetsuya’s with my girlfriend last Friday night after making the booking some four months ago (”I’d like to book a table for two either on a Friday or Saturday night please.” “I have a table at the end of September, sir.” “…” — well, okay, I guess this is what you get when restaurants don’t implement a “No booking earlier than 1 month” rule) and after dressing-up and making ourselves look good we caught a taxi and off we went.
Upon arrival we experienced the vaunted service and attention that high-end restaurants were expected to provide. And in fact I do have to say that service was impeccable throughout our meal. Not once did we call on the waiter for anything–well, except for the bill–and everything simply ran smoothly.
But that alone did not make for a five star experience. While service was great, ambiance was extremely lacking. Enjoying the dinner with three friends as I did last year I didn’t mind. But for a night-out with the girlfriend I was hoping for something more subdued and, oh, I don’t know, romantic? I can’t help but feel like I was at a Chinese restaurant somewhere on Anzac Parade. Granted one with great service. Decor? Oh yes, minimalist.
Again, just like many of the hole-in-the-wall student joints on Anzac Pde.
But okay, none of this has to do with the food so far. How was the food?
1. Pea soup with bitter chocolate sorbet
The pea soup by itself was quite an interesting flavor, but the dark chocolate completely over-powered it. And this dark chocolate lover also want to say that the chocolate was just a tad too dark even for him. But I suppose that’s why it’s called “bitter chocolate” instead of “dark chocolate”. And when mixed together this combination actually tasted like vomit.
*. After the above we were then served a plate of oyster with … some tart sauce. I thought these would be served fresh but I should’ve listened closer to our waiter when he offered the oyster plate. Oh well. Quite good actually.
2. Smoked ocean trout and avruga caviar
Tasted like the smoked salmon in my fridge with some second-rate crap caviar on top of it. Sorry, was I supposed to be impressed just because this has caviar?
3. Leek and crab custard
Fancy name for what is essentially a chawan-mushi with crab and reduction or sauce of some sort. This was actually a dish that we both thought highly of. Subtle flavor upon first taste but a much stronger flavor then coats the inside of our mouths.
4. Scallop carpaccio with red wine vinaigrette
They had only a 100 scallops for the day and had to serve a 1000 people, thus the need to slice thinly what they had. Not impressed.
5. Ocean trout with a generous sprinkling of ajinomoto (signature dish)
Officially this is the Confit of Petuna Tasmanian Ocean Trout with Konbu, Daikon & Fennel with Seasonal Green Salad and I was very impressed with this dish when I first tasted it last year. My friend then commented that it was like “an explosion of flavor inside your mouth”. Eating it again, however, I couldn’t help but think that I was eating ocean trout with a generous sprinkling of ajinomoto.
6. Ravioli of Queensland spanner crab with tomato & basil vinaigrette
Tasted like a bad shiu-mai.
7. Baby abalone and ox-tail
The abalone were sliced just a bit too thick and a tad chewy. The ox-tail was decent but tasted a tad bland. How such a great chef can put together two great items and fuck it up beyond belief is, well, beyond belief.
8. Twice cooked de-boned spatchcock with olive & caper jus
I don’t like hainanese chicken rice because the chicken is served at room temperature (or somewhat cooler) and is steamed/boiled/whatever. We surprised the waiters when I barely touched this dish and my girlfriend ate only a portion of it. While I wasn’t too crazy about it because I don’t generally like boiled/steamed meat/fish, my girlfriend simply just didn’t care much for this dish. The waiter apologized when I told him the reason I barely touched it and said that they could’ve offered an alternative dish–fair enough, and I guess I should’ve asked him what a spatchcock was when he first described the night’s offering. Oh well. Either way, not impressed.
9. Grilled wagyu beef with lime & wasabi
Cold. Slimy. Blah
Girlfriend also says: don’t bother with the wagyu beef if you’re going to slice it up so thinly!
10. Comte with lentils
Mmmmm. Tastes like red-bean.
11. Beetroot & blood orange sorbet, strawberry shortcake
Not a fan of beetroot I really didn’t care much for the sorbet though I did finish it because I didn’t want to “send back” yet another dish. The strawberry shortcake however is an absolute delight and one of my favorites and I was glad to see it still on the menu. It is hardly a shortcake in the traditional sense but a strawberry puree of sorts combined with liquefied/dissolved cream/cake.
12. (Double-cream?) Vanila bean ice cream with white beans & dates
Well, at least he still knows how to serve a good vanilla bean ice cream. I could’ve sworn this was double-cream which made it really smooth but I could be mistaken.
13. Chocolate terrine with mascarpone & cognac anglaise
The chocolate terrine is orgasmic (”Please don’t pull a Meg Ryan on me” said the girlfriend) though the cognac anglaise wasn’t worth writing home about.
Petit Fours
Toooo sweet even with my cappuccino.
Would I come back here again? Doubtful. Would I take visitors to it? If they’re paying.
Tetsuya’s
529 Kent Street
Sydney NSW 2000
Tel: +61 2 9267 2900
Website: http://www.tetsuyas.com/
I really should sleep but I’ve got to just put this up real quick. I haven’t had a nice night-out with my better half for some times now and when we got the chance I booked a table for two at Times on the Park, a restaurant at the Sheraton Hotel by Hyde Park. The reviews on Eatability were stratospheric and as a plus, it’s considered a romantic spot. So off I go.
My girlfriend chose the goose foie gras entree while I opted for their soup of the day–sorry, soup du jour–lobster bisque. We also split an order of seared scallops. Well, the goose foie gras was nothing special, and while I actually liked the bread that it came with she thought it could have been thinner. As for my lobster bisque, not only was it rather watered down (I miss the lobster bisque as The Palm restaurant in Boston), it was also missing a certain … oh, I don’t know, maybe LOBSTER?! I saw two small pieces of red bell-pepper (capsicum to you Aussie readers) floating in the sea of lobster bisque-flavored heated water and some other green garnishes and that was it!
The seared scallop was also average at best.
So after all these we still haven’t ordered our mains as my companion had felt queasy at the start and wanted to see how things progressed. Seeing how things had turned out it was probably for the best that we left, but we didn’t. In fact, I ordered a Time Fillet (what the hell is that?) along a side of chips (fries to you American readers).
Good lord. The steak I made for dinner tonight was juicier and tastier than what they served. A bit dry, chewy, and … well, again, average at best. I’d rather eat the $5 steak my girlfriend and I would get at this one pub she found. The chips were also just so-so.
Not convinced at just how average this restaurant we each proceeded to order desserts and also a cafe latte for myself. The coffee was decent, the ice cream uninspiring, and my lady had some white chocolate delice that was too sweet.
All in all, barely average food in a quite romantic surrounding. Most definitely not coming back.
Times on the Park
Sheraton on the Park Hotel
Level 1, 161 Elizabeth Street
Sydney NSW 2000
Tel: +61 2 9267 4022
Homepage: http://www.timesrestaurant.com/
Singapore Air held an exclusive (read: after-hours) cooking demonstration by Matt Moran (head chef at ARIA, and also member of their culinary panel) for their Sydney-based PPS Club members at the Sydney Good Food & Wine show this past Friday and I was fortunate enough to be invited. I brought a friend along to the show and we were both quite entertained and walked away with a new cooking trick or two.
However, the hour-long show gave me a major craving for fine-dining. Or at least something really decent or something really nice. I called-up Bennelong (aka. Guillaume at Bennelong) and asked if they had a table for two. Given that it was Friday night I figured it was a long shot but it turned out they did have a table for two so I made a booking right away and we made our way to the restaurant.
I’ve been wanting of trying this restaurant ever since I had to cancel a pre-theatre booking (I was attending a performance of Beethoven’s 4th and 7th that night) because my friend was late arriving at the Opera House and here was another chance.
Admittedly, my first reaction after seeing the menu was that this wasn’t just a really nice restaurant, but that it was a reaaaaaaaally nice restaurant. But, since we were already there, we might as well as enjoy it.
To begin with, we both had the duck confit entree. We both thought this would be a tiny serving of duck alongside some duck foie gras, only to be surprised by a serving of three really flavorful and perfectly cooked small chunks of duck meat along with the duck foie gras. Now, I am not a duck person. Every time I eat at a restaurant and someone orders a duck I’d usually give it a taste and nod, agreeing that it’s good (unless it’s really horrible). However, I have to say Bennelong has converted me.
And suddenly we both found we were kinda full at this point. It was such a rich dish that both of us were filled with dread at our main course. My friend had ordered a wagyu steak while I had a … double-cooked wagyu beef cheek of some sort. We wanted to order the wagyu rib-eye steak for two but after hearing our waiter describe the beef cheek dish for a second time I was visibly drooling so I ordered it while my friend opted for the regular steak as she wanted a real steak and not some “melts as you touch it with your fork” kinda meat.
So we waited for our mains and talked and enjoyed the restaurant. It was dimly lit and quiet and every now and then we could hear a large group of table cheering and laughing and so on. Sounded like someone having a birthday party or a team dinner of some sort. Then our main courses came and all our fears of not being able to finish them disappeared when each of us took our first bites.
For my part, the meat really did just melt when I picked-up a chunk of it with my fork. It was tender beyond belief, and if I thought the duck confit was flavorful, I was blown away by what I was eating then. My friend was also quite shocked at just how good her steak was (I was very impressed as well). The meat was perfectly pinkish-red medium-rare, just as she liked her steaks, even though she ordered a medium. Needless to say, I finished my dish very quickly given how soft and tender it was. I ignored the serving of autumn vegetables on it, not wanting to ruin the flavor of the meat and the red wine au jus sauce it came with.
After that I had the nougat glace along with the matching wine while my friend skipped the dessert, opting for just a glass of the dessert wine I ordered. And again, neither of us were disappointed. Most amazing was the cotton candy that came with my dessert. I never thought it could be served as dessert at a fine-dining restaurant and yet, there it was, the best cotton candy I ever had. It was soft and ephemeral, melting effortlessly in my mouth. I then ended the night with a shot of espresso while my friend was content with the nougat glace and the dessert wine.
Looking at the bill I realized it wasn’t all that bad. It amounted to a nice night out for two and gave me the best dining experience I’ve had yet in Sydney.
Strike that. The ambiance, the menu, the architecture and the decor, and the truly world-class service all made it the best dining experience I have had yet. This is now the one dining experience other restaurants I come across will have to try and beat.
Or maybe it was just the company?
(It was only yesterday that I remembered that Friday marked my 3rd year in Sydney. Having intended to celebrate it and forgetting it and then discovering that I did have a nice night out on Friday only made the dinner that much more special.)
Guillaume at Bennelong
Sydney Opera House
Bennelong Point
Sydney NSW 2000
Tel: +61 2 9241 1999
Homepage: www.guillaumeatbennelong.com.au
It certainly was not my intention to visit Azuma this past Friday night. My plan was for a quick drink followed by a stop either at a pie-shop or a McDonald’s on the way home before calling it a week. Instead it turned into one quick drink followed by a meal at Azuma.
I’ve always wanted to eat here, but never could find the occasion to do so (it seemed to be one of the more upmarket restaurants in Sydney and I couldn’t justify going in there just to eat a quick dinner). But as I sat at the last free table (we had no bookings) with a friend from work I realized that while their prices might put them in the slightly upmarket section the inside of the restaurant was just pleasantly so-so, almost casual in fact. Elegantly casual.
It took me awhile to decide what I wanted to eat as I flipped back and forth through their menu. Nothing really jumped out at me and in the end I ordered their sushi special (10 piece sushi) along with a spicy tuna & avocado handroll and two pieces of aburi toro–seared tuna belly.
First to come was the handroll and I have to say: awesome nori! It definitely was not soggy as it cracked with each bite and pressure applied to it without being brittle and dry. As a whole, however, I had mixed feelings about the roll. They had sprinkled chili powder on it instead of using the spicy mayo. Looks like I’ll have to be specific next time I order this (the menu only listed a “Tuna & Avocado Handroll” and I had asked if they could make it into a spicy handroll). The saving grace though was the tuna used inside the roll. I wasn’t ready to pass judgments yet at this point but it was fresh, and tasty. Heavenly.
Then came the sushi plate and I realized I was eating the best sushi I’ve ever had ever in Sydney. And fortunately for me, the plate contained the four sashimi I used to judge a sushi restaurant: scampi, tuna, salmon, and scallop. The slices of these four served on top of the rice blocks were fresh and served at just the right temperature. Not warm, and not chilled. The scampi in particular was just right–sweet but not overpowering and chewy but not rubbery. And then the aburi toro finally came and just as I popped the first piece into my mouth I received a work phone call, forcing me to chew and swallow it quickly while excusing myself from the table. After finishing the call I came back to the table and enjoyed the second piece. Absolutely amazing.
It was then that I remarked to my friend that that was the best sushi I’ve ever had in this city.
Then came the dessert: a belgian chocolate mousse for myself and a caramel ice cream affogato for my friend. While not the best they were certainly the best I’ve had in recent memory.
I’m definitely coming back for more.
Azuma
Level 1, Chifley Plaza, 2 Chifley Square
(Cnr. of Phillip & Hunter Street)
Sydney NSW 2000
Tel: +61 2 9222 9960
Homepage: www.azuma.com.au
I got into a debate with a friend of mine the other day while discussing things like the meaning of life, etc. So here I present to you a dramatized version of the conversation:
Her: One day a Harvard professor of Economics–
Me: Great. Harvard. Economics. But I bet he’s the fool–
Her: So this professor from Harvard is on a beach and he sees a fisherman coming home early, earlier than the other fishermen who are still fishing, and playing with his kids. He goes up to the fisherman and asks him why he came home so early. The fisherman told him it’s so it’s he could play with his kids. “But if you stay out there longer, you can get more fish,” the Economics professor from Harvard argued. “You can then buy bigger boats, hire more men, get more fish, and so on.” “But what would I do with all those money and boats?” “Well, you can … ” and here the professor was stuck. Then he said, “Well, you can spend time playing with your kids.”
Me: The next day the fisherman found out his youngest daughter has leukemia.
Okay, so it’s very shortened and tidied-up version and I definitely came off as a lot wittier than I actually were during the conversation. But the point is, as much as I like to simplify life and get to the basics, sometimes there are certain realities that can’t or shouldn’t be ignored. Yes, the pursuit of money can be ugly–after all, the biblical quote wasn’t “money is the source of all evil” but that “the love of money is the source of all evil”–but the simple fisherman in her story, to me, came off as a simplistic, ignorant fool, not to mention selfish as he’s obviously not thinking of the long-term physical/material survival of his family.
He could’ve had more fish, more boats, more men, and he wouldn’t even have to work so he can even more time with all his kids. But to this she said, “But he’s already doing that. And plus, he won’t be playing with his kids for that 10 or 20 years while he builds his empire.”
Not that I thought of this at the time, but that sounds a whole lot like, “Well, I’ve got a burlap sack. Why would I want to work to get proper clothes? I’m still covered-up right?”
Every now and then Singapore Airlines disappoints. But even the best fails at times so I suppose this is only normal. One such example was my recent SIN-DEL flight whose cabin crew’s performance was definitely sub-par (though I’d still take this crew over most other airlines’ crew–sub-par for SQ is still better than many other airlines’ inflight service). Whenever I encounter one of these sub-par crews I always think back to my FRA-JFK flight aboard SQ26 at the end of 2005. SQ likes to advertise themselves as having “the inflight service that even other airlines talk about”. To me, the crew that worked the upper-deck on that flight could proudly advertise themselves as “the SQ cabin crew that even other SQ flight attendants talk about”. They were just that good. But about two weeks ago, a few days after the disappointing SIN-DEL flight, I encountered a cabin crew that definitely deserved the same accolade.
My AP US Government teacher would have politely described my situation onboard the SIN-SYD flight SQ219 as stagflation: everything coming out from both ends. I knew I was ill when I could barely make it to the gate and security (in Singapore security check is done at the gate) actually took me up to the front of the line, cutting in front of an old lady in the process. It was this same knowledge that led me to ask my seatmate, upon her arrival, for a switch as I was in the window seat and she had the coveted aisle seat. (I think she was happy with her decision.) And it was just sometimes after take-off that I grabbed the barf bag in the seat pocket in front of me, ripped it open, and threw-up into it.
(My apologies to the flight attendant that handled this–I couldn’t see the “tab” that I was instructed to rip and opened it at an angle that when she tilted it she spilled a little of the content onto myself, my armrest, and a tad on herself. That couldn’t have been pleasant. :( )
I’ll skip on the details of what happened in the toilet, but I was eventually back in my seat and I managed to muster enough energy to rip open the blanket’s plastic wrapping and threw it over myself. Never had that SpaceBed seat ever unfolded itself so comfortably for me–everything just right for my aching and freezing body. Under the single layer of blanket I curled-up tightly, my body shaking violently from the chill.
The flight from hell? More like the flight through hell. For the first time ever I dreaded the 7-8 hours I’d have to spend aboard an SQ flight. But, leave it to SQ to turn what is my worst possible flight ever into a much more positive experience, making the best lemonade out of the sourest lemon thrown at me.
There was a palpable “all hands on deck” measure being implemented just to care for lil’sick me. I knew that even if it was the Chief Stewardess (second in command so to speak–if you ever fly SQ, she’d be the lady in red or the gentleman in a matching dark blue suit) who personally cared for me, the others did help me out once or twice during my flight and were all aware of my condition and could be relied on for assistance. At the end of the flight even the Inflight Supervisor came-up to my seat to check on me.
With all this attention, you bet I was impressed!
As for the Chief Stewardess, being cared by her was not at all different from being taken care of by a nurse, albeit one who had gone through the SQ training on customer service and had moved-up the ranks to Chief Stewardess. She out of all of them really gave me a peace of mind and comfort.
Additionally, I never at any point signaled for assistance (I simply didn’t have the energy) yet someone always came-up to my seat when I needed something (e.g., more blankets, medication, etc.). At the same time they also did not interrupt my sleep more than necessary. It was as if they were able to read my mind as to what I needed and when. Amazing.
Another thing that stuck in my mind is the observation made by the Chief Stewardess when she was advising me to drink water to replace the fluid my body lost. She didn’t simply give me the standard lecture on how my body is losing water but instead she pointed out how dry my lips had looked and that I really had to drink-up or else I would also be suffering from dehydration. Talk about detail! I would’ve loved to check on this crew’s table setting had I been able to enjoy the meals on-board! (One quick’n dirty method of testing their attention to detail is to see whether all the Raffles class logo that appear during the mealtime are lined-up facing you: glasses, tablecloth, plates, bowls, etc.)
(Compare this to the QF crew that forgot to hand my jacket prior to landing at LAX and the subsequent crew who refused to do anything while we were still on the ground at LAX and finally announced to me near the end of the flight as we were approaching JFK that the jacket must have been taken off the plane at LAX.)
Eventually I managed to sleep in a cocoon of three blankets and one duvet (which the very nice lady in red produced from the first class cabin when she realized I was still shivering under three blankets) for a good six or seven hours and woke-up feeling more or less well-rested and also that the flight had been rather comfortable. I was also able to enjoy a conversation with my seatmate–all thanks to the amazing crew on-board.
Anyhow, here’s a very special thanks to Chief Stewardess Dorothy for making my flight a much more comfortable affair than I thought it could ever be given my condition.
