The East Coast
Saturday, May 16, 2009
The East Coast
It is getting harder and harder these days to organize a family dinner. We have four people at home, and every one of them seem to have a different taste for food. My father dislikes seaweed and Japanese food for the most part, and he isn't exactly a fan of western food either. My mother tries to avoid red meat most of the time, and prefers vegetarian food when she can manage. Like my mother, my sister dislikes most Singaporean food, or at least the kind of stuff you would find in hawker centers and food courts. I, on the other hand, I tend to be a little more versatile when it comes to the kind of restaurant and the kind of standards I demand. Given, when it comes to individual food, I can be rather picky on things. But I can probably survive longer on fish and chips than any of my other family members, truth be told. So when it comes to going out for a family dinner, it is practically impossible because someone is going to dislike the restaurant somebody else suggested. So we have most of our meals at home, and it really gets frustrating whenever my father asks me for suggestions as to where to eat. It's not like they have ever enjoyed the places that I suggested in the past anyway. But it hasn't always been like that though, because there was a time when we actually bothered to eat out when we could, and that was a long time ago.
It is getting harder and harder these days to organize a family dinner. We have four people at home, and every one of them seem to have a different taste for food. My father dislikes seaweed and Japanese food for the most part, and he isn't exactly a fan of western food either. My mother tries to avoid red meat most of the time, and prefers vegetarian food when she can manage. Like my mother, my sister dislikes most Singaporean food, or at least the kind of stuff you would find in hawker centers and food courts. I, on the other hand, I tend to be a little more versatile when it comes to the kind of restaurant and the kind of standards I demand. Given, when it comes to individual food, I can be rather picky on things. But I can probably survive longer on fish and chips than any of my other family members, truth be told. So when it comes to going out for a family dinner, it is practically impossible because someone is going to dislike the restaurant somebody else suggested. So we have most of our meals at home, and it really gets frustrating whenever my father asks me for suggestions as to where to eat. It's not like they have ever enjoyed the places that I suggested in the past anyway. But it hasn't always been like that though, because there was a time when we actually bothered to eat out when we could, and that was a long time ago.
I wasn't always like that for my family though, because we actually had places to go to if my mother decided to take a break from all the cooking. I mean, we love her dishes very much, but and that is probably the only time when all our tastes for food converges. Other than those times, we used to have a couple of restaurants plotted in our minds to go to when we feel like eating out. It's much easier in Taiwan because all of us love what the streets have to offer. You can pick out practically any store in Taiwan and it'd taste good enough for all of us, but the same cannot be said here. Like, for example, I can probably settle with Manhattan Fish Market if I want to, no problem. But the family is not going to like that because all the fried stuff is going to turn my mother off. Anyway, so it wasn't always like that because we knew places to go to last time, until we somehow decided never to go back ever again. One such places is the Long Beach restaurant at East Coast, the place with all the seafood and the likes. I remember visiting there very often as a child, and my parents would bring us there every once in a while, especially when we had guests flying in from Taiwan to visit us. That was when we'd all go down to the restaurant while my sister and I would hang out at the beach.
Last night, I paid a visit to that place all over again. It's not really the food that got me feeling somewhat nostalgia, but the little places that have changed over the years ever since my childhood. The East Coast represents the first beach that I've ever really been to in Singapore when I was younger, and there were a lot of time spent just being a kid on the beach for the most part. A trip to the beach last time was the most exciting thing ever, because I'd get to build my castles and dig my holes. Yes, that was what I did on the beach with a shovel and a little piece of ground underneath my feet. I used to think that if I dug deep enough, I'd be able to reach the sea underneath or the continent beyond. It was hard to imagine the concept of distance and size, and I was very young at that time. So, armed with a little plastic shovel, I'd start to dig deep into the beach until there'd be a giant hole for small children to fall into. There'd be this layer of lighter colored sand, then a layer of orange colored sand, and then it'd just remain that way for a while until it became too hard and compacted for me to dig any further. So much for my plans to dig to America back then.
Every now and then, I'd be ordered back to the dinner table for my meals. Adult conversations never interested me in the past very much, and I didn't like the fact that I had to crush the shells of the crab on my own, because they were too tough for a young and weak child such as myself back then. Most of the time, my mind would be in places other than the meal itself, like the sea or the little patch of padded grass next to the restaurant. If you go to that part of the East Coast today, you are probably going to find it there still, though it used to be a little bigger than it is now. Instead of the beach sometimes, I'd much prefer to go there and hang around while the adults talked about things about their lives. I'd be there on the grass patch, running around hysterically for a moment and then lying down, feeling the little prickly grass on the back of my neck. On very clear nights, I'd be able to see the stars in the sky, and then some wisps of clouds floating by. I remember this other time when I'd stand on the railing and then stare out into the horizon at the ships passing by. All those lights from their decks, forming their own cluster of artificial stars. I saw the same ships in the horizon last night, little lights glistering off the coast, moving like molasses from where I was standing.
A lot has happened since I stood on the railing that night as a little child. I remember that time along East Coast when we were forced to run in cadence as army boys. Yes, that crazed officer Eugene was screaming at us again, and said something about how we had to run in cadence, or we'd be punished or something like that. All of his good intentions ultimately amounted to bad executions, and that was only one of the many reasons why he garnered so many haters amongst the company. Anyway, I remember the way my socks were soaked from the rain that was coming down on us, and we had to run as a platoon because that was his way of having platoon spirit. We tried to catch up, but some of us started to fall behind. I accompanied Jonathan, I remember, as he fell behind in the pack amongst others, and we were all punished at the finish line even though we were there in time. I remember feeling somewhat embarrassed, being under the eyes of the public in my army singlet and everything. I don't know, there is just something about that which made me feel somewhat uneasy. It was a beautiful day though, the rain coming down on the beach like a veil somehow. I remember taking a picture of little children on the beach, one feeding the other imaginary food with a twig.
Last night was good, it was nice to take a stroll on the beach with the significant other and her family, plus her family friends. The place was packed, and naturally so for a Saturday evening I suppose. I wondered why they thought it'd be smart to build all the seafood restaurants next to each other when they pretty much tasted the same anyway. I mean, they even sold the same thing, which I didn't get. Anyway, we took a stroll along the beach on the somewhat humid night, and watched those people wakeboard in the murky lagoon that looked like something right out of the Usborne Puzzle Adventures with the seaweeds and the jelly-like things floating around inside. I would have much preferred to ride a bicycle though, but it was getting late and the parents didn't exactly feel like engaging themselves in that kind of exercise after a heavy meal. The meal was OK, though I still had problems with the peeling of prawns. I really do prefer the kind of prawns which allow me to eat everything in one gulp. With that said, I was especially fascinated with the lobster tail, something which I haven't had a close-up look before. The scales and the spikes were something right out of a fantasy novel.
The East Coast, what else can I say about that place. I haven't got much memory left of the place anymore. Anything after my times spent there as a child were barbeque parties and the ones that I refuse to remember at this point in time. Just very random and scattered thoughts and memories, like that time when I pulled Matthew's pants off for no apparent reasons - why did I do that? Then there was the time when someone thought it'd be clever to start a barbeque fire with kerosene, which then burned his eyebrows off because he used too much. I remember that little chat I had with Mr. Thodey, I think that is how you spell his name. He was on the stone bench that faced the sea, alone with a plate of chicken wings. I still think that he is a sad, sad man, alone in a foreign country and in a place he loathes. I wonder if he is still there in his dark office, sitting on the same stone bench and thinking about flying back to New Zealand? I'd never know, I suppose.
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