Olives from Chef Ghazi's Garden

When I arrived in Singapore I was thrilled about the location of the hostel I’d be staying in. I was in the arabic area. I had visions of incredible food. Food I had been craving for months and unable to find while I was in Malaysia. As I walked around the neighborhood, I would look at menus and become discouraged by the steep prices and the difference in what I thought was authentic food. It took 2-3 MRT stops south of my chosen neighborhood for me to find a restaurant with reasonable prices and authentic food.  I learned of Urban Bites through Twitter, and when I saw their menu, I knew I had to eat there.

As I sat in Urban Bites, Chef Ghazi’s restaurant, my food was no longer food. I could feel the passion and hear the story of what I was eating. The hommos was smooth and the olive oil was light and not bitter. With each bite I took, I would think of how Chef Ghazi had made the olive oil. This was not supermarket food. This was whole raw foods that had been used to create a culinary experience. I have never sat in a restaurant and chatted with the Chef responsible for the food I’m eating. The experience was like no other. In fact, it’s an experience I would like to have in each country I visit going forward.

Remember when I wrote about the best hummus I had ever tasted and how my travel plans are starting to revolve around food?After spending time with Chef Ghazi and tasting his hummus, I decided to return to Derwish and try their hummus again. The difference between the two was instantly noticeable.

“I don’t like garlic in the hommos. It will spoil the taste of the hommos. You want to taste the tahini, the chickpeas, the real chickpeas of the hommos.”

As a huge fan of garlic, I wasn’t sure, however after sampling the hummus at Derwish again (after my visit with Chef Ghazi), I can say that Chef Ghazi was 100% right. It does taste different. My mouth was tainted by garlic (which I am normally okay with), and I didn’t taste the chickpeas, tahini or olive oil as much as I should. In many ways it’s a completely different dish.

Chef Ghazi's Hommos

I was experiencing a culture. I was taking part in a tradition. In my mind I was sitting in a restaurant in Lebanon.

Chef Ghazi believes in being authentic in terms of ingredients and cooking, and frankly, I completely agree with him.

“We introduce the Lebanese food or the medicinal food in a way which is really authentic one. People have a lot of tastes. Some locals say “Oh, we don’t eat lamb”. Most of our food is made of lamb. Our starters are all vegetarian and once you do this hommos, motabel, tabbouleh or falafel if you don’t do it exactly, it’s like a hygiene tablet I call it. You don’t do it in microwave. You don’t use the right ingredients. You’ll be spoiling the whole taste. The whole thing.”

Chef Ghazi’s eyes sparkle as he speaks, and his passion for authentic Lebanese food oozes out of him in a way that makes me want to pack up my whole life and move to Lebanon. Tomorrow. His personality is infectious and I can’t help but sit and listen to him. I would sit in his restaurant everyday and listen to his stories if I could (and eat an obscene amount of hommos, labneh, Lebanese bread and Shwarma). Chef Ghazi’s commitment to keeping his cuisine authentic goes beyond using fresh ingredients and old recipes. It’s more than that. He’s bringing a piece of Lebanon to Singapore and his mother is helping him do it.

Chef Ghazi & I

I sat and listened in awe as Chef Ghazi spoke about his mother in Lebanon and how during the summer months she goes up to the roof of her home to stir tomatoes for homemade tomato paste. At first it seemed surreal, that an elderly woman would take 2-3 months to make tomato paste by hand. But looking into Chef Ghazi’s eyes, I knew he was telling the truth. Tomato paste isn’t the only ingredient that arrives in Singapore from his home in Lebanon, and the more Chef Ghazi spoke about his mother and ingredients she prepares for him, the more I wanted to meet her and follow her for a week. This woman sounds absolutely amazing. She hasn’t given into the ‘easy way’. She prepares food the old way, the hard way, the authentic way. And this has filtered down to her son, the chef.

In Chef Ghazi’s kitchen (and I’m sure his mother’s as well) nothing goes to waste. When mint is added while making Labneh, he dries the leftover pieces and chops them up to use as garnish. And it doesn’t stop there. It’s rare for Chef Ghazi to waste food. If it can be used, it will be used. Although we’re talking about food, I can’t help but think of life in general and how we waste things (food, money, talent, time etc.). Everything that can be utilized, should be. It makes complete sense.

As a travel writer/blogger, I look for the story in a city or monument. I look for a story when I meet locals. Up to this point, I have not thought of looking for a story when I eat. I feel almost ashamed to admit that now.

I learned a lot during my time with Chef Ghazi. I learned to appreciate authentic food. I learned to look for the story of what I was eating and the work that went into preparing it. I learned that being wasteful (even in life) is to be avoided at all costs. I learned that I seriously need to live in Lebanon for like 6 months!

Hookahs line a window at Derwish Café

I gorged myself on Indian food for the 2 months that I was in Penang. Sure, there was a little Nyonya food in there and the occasional Western style dish, but for the most part I ate Indian food.  Very yummy Indian food. I’m so in love with Indian food that one might think I would flock to Little India within hours of my arrival in Singapore. Guess what. I didn’t. In fact, it’s my second day in Singapore and I have yet to leave the neighborhood where my hostel is located.

I know, I’m in Singapore. I need to be venturing out to the Hawker food centers and experiencing the food and people there, and I will, I promise. But before I go there, I need to finish experiencing the area around my hostel. Why? Well, I’ll tell you -but first I’ll give a wee bit of a backstory.

The Backstory

My decision to come to Singapore had everything to do with the floods in Bangkok and my desire to not miss my flight back to Toronto. I had visions of being in a taxi at 4:30am and not making it to the airport. Normally I wouldn’t care, but my arrival in Toronto will allow me to surprise my family and attend my niece’s first birthday (I have yet to make it to her sister’s birthday parties, so this is important to me). I called Air Canada, to enquire about flight changes and within minutes I was given a flight out of Singapore instead of Bangkok for no additional charge. Goodbye Bangkok, Hello Singapore.

I’ve never been to Singapore before, and although I’ve heard it was a little expensive, I wanted to spend a few days relaxing and exploring, but before I could make any final plans, I needed to do a little research.

It was during my very brief research that I came across information on a hostel called Sleepy Sam’s B&B. It didn’t take much for me to decide to book a bed. For one, the price was right ($28SG/night), and for another, the neighbourhood was right. You see, Sleepy Sam’s is located in the arabic area of Singapore.

Present Day

The idea of staying in an arabic neighbourhood delighted me to the point of making me giddy. I had visions of street vendors and shwarma. The reality however was a little different. There are no street vendors in this neighbourhood and finding cheap shwarma is almost impossible, however that doesn’t mean I made the wrong choice. No sir. I made the right choice. I know, it sounds crazy, let me paint a picture for you, so you understand my current frame of mind.

It’s late Sunday afternoon, and I’m sitting at a small table outside a Turkish café called Derwish which is two doors down from my hostel. The outside of the café is decorated in white, gold and black. There is a slight breeze and from where I sit, I can see the Sultan Mosque. The café is playing arabic pop music. I feel snacky, so I’ve ordered hummus and some tea.

As I waited for my snack and tea, I sat and watched as couples ordered traditional Turkish fare. I watched men smoke from hookahs, the sweet smell seeping into my nostrils.

My hummus was served on a white porcelain plate with a homemade pide ekmeği (Turkish flatbread) which had been cut into 4 pieces. There is olive oil drizzled over the hummus and in the center is an olive.

Hummus from Derwish Turkish Café

I’ve never been a fan of hummus, however I decided to give it a try. This is a Turkish café in an arabic neighbourhood, it should be good, right? That may sound wrong, but that is where my mind went as I ordered it. Guess what? The hummus was amazing. If I could get away with licking the plate, I totally would.

I decide to eat the hummus slowly, savoring every morsel of hummus-covered pide ekmeği . There is more hummus than bread and that worries me slightly as I don’t want to waste any of it. As I eat my mind starts to think about Turkish apple tea and wonders where I can go in Singapore to buy a tin to bring back to Canada. I then start thinking of my travel plans for next year and think that a week or two in Turkey is not going to be enough. If the food is this good in Turkey or Iran, I am going to need a lot more time in both countries.

How did it come to this? When did food start making my travel plans? I’m not sure when everything shifted, but I’m totally okay with it.

**I wonder if I can find a place to teach me how to make Turkish pide ekmeği  and hummus and a few other Turkish dishes.**

Tomorrow I plan to actually leave the neighborhood and see more of Singapore, no matter how hard that may be. It will be hard though. I’ve only had Turkish food here so far and there are plenty of Egyptian, Lebanese, Moroccan, Indian and Persian cafés within minutes of my hostel. I must resist the urge though. I must explore more tomorrow. Tonight though, I am getting my fill of Turkish food -oh, and then there is the little cakeshop called My Fat Lady which sells yummy looking cupcakes. I must go there too, like everyday.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for sudden cravings or homesickness. If you’ve been to Peters’ and currently far from home, stop! DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER! Thank-you.

Peters’ Drive-In

I was sitting at home this afternoon craving a float and creeping on Twitter when @nomadicchick suggested I go to Peters’ Drive-In. Peters’ Drive-In is a Calgary institution located on 16th Ave (Trans Canada HWY 1) near 1st St NE. . In business since 1962, their prices have changed a little but their menu has not.  What’s on menu? Hamburgers, Hot Dogs, Fries, Onion Rings, Floats and more than 4,000 possible milkshake combinations!

One of the things I love about Peters’ is that it’s mostly windows, which means you can see everything happening inside. Unlike some drive-ins from the 50′s and 60′s (A&W’s) that are still around, Peters’ is still very much the same as it was all those years ago. In fact Peters’ use to be a favourite stop for my parents when they were younger.

My original plan was to drive over to Peters’, buy a hamburger, onion rings and a float using some change I had laying around my apartment as well as my credit card. I know, you can’t get more pathetic than that. However when I arrived at Peters’ I was reminded of one thing that has been the same since the day they opened- cash only! Eek! My plan was foiled. I quickly sat down and counted my change, looked at the menu on the window and decided what I was going to order while the guy inside chuckled at me.

Eating at Peters’ in not cheap. I was more hungry than thirsty so I opted for a cheeseburger and onion rings which cost me $7.60. But the food is worth it. The service at Peters’ is out of this world. The staff are friendly, patient and FAST. I think it was all of 60 seconds between placing my order and receiving my order.

Although my original plan was to order a float don’t worry, I still figured out a way to have a yummy A&W float with my dinner.  How? I drove to 7-11, bought a large ice cream sandwich and a small bottle of A&W Rootbeer. When I got home I pried off the cookie part of the ice cream sandwich, dropped the ice cream into a mug and poured the Rootbeer over top. MMmm

Stay tuned for the next The Calgary Verve: Crave…