Friday, May 18, 2012

Seafood Porridge & Noodles @ Public Cafe


One great bucket of fishy unfresh smelly seafood crap .

One sip of the soup and you will know what pirates meant when they said " Shiver me timbers"
The tide will pull back, converging the 7 seas into one massive black whirlpool hole with a nasty Kraken to squeeze your guts from the inside till you expell whatever you just put down your throat.
Long John Silver will turn into Short Jane Shiver after this mortifying experience.

Whoever recommends this to you is utter rubbish to begin with. 

It's such a big sham sitting by the seaside and eating foods that taste of disintegrating seafoods and semi rotting fish juices that strangely look fresh to the naked eye .

Only those who have a hangover night after night, day in day out, can stand this because their noses are already constipated from excessive alcohol and the heat from the soup can help unblock their nostrils.
Thus these people, misjudge the fishiness as real fish smell because they were already cacat alcoholics to begin with.

Just don't. You will regret this if you are particular about fish not smelling like an overnight trawler drawer. Ugh !!!



Monday, May 7, 2012

Ferringhi Garden @ Batu Ferringhi


Where does Tarzan go when he wants to impress Jane and lure her away from KingKong ?

Here. Because the food is overpriced and Jane is supposed to be city babe. He thinks she likes big plates with itsy bitsy food so she needn't worry about ditching her diet plan.
Most important of all, he can feel right at home amongst the bushes and the fake brook.
If the enormous bill stresses him out and he needs some swinging exercise to burn off ,the pergolas at the back will do just fine.
Should he find the glassware boring, he can pull out a real monkey cup dangling from one of the vines. Nothing better than a shot of drowned insect juice to perk up the spirit of a homesick urban sakai.

Actually prawn behind the stone, is so that the Boss of the Jungle here, can make wang besar wang  besar and build big big treepenthouse mansions in the sky.

Basically you are paying for the army of thin thin workers, upkeep of the big big plants, the fuel for lighting the small small candles, around the long long bungalow, so you can see your tiny tiny meal on the large large plate.

Ranked as "the cleanest restaurant" , I absolutely agree, there is no argument here, so clean is this outlet, your wallet even gets a good spring cleaning afterwards.

The " Most Pleasant Restaurant" tag showered on them, is however highly argumentative because of the steam-y atmosphere here.Even where there is air conditioning, it is so useless,it might as well not exist. Temperature in every corner is like a desert safari from day to night.
The pleasant plants block the fans and hinder air movement till it feels like you are slowly being suffocated by a great big sinister twine force until you find yourself surrounded by a nipple gaping scenario where drenched silhouttes flit about to hypnotise you via candlelight.

Everyone from customers to staff, will feel uncomfortably warm. Either you don a thin sari or you will sweat sweat sweat like you are starring in a slow motion ,hazy ,equator porno flick.
Whoever said they don't feel warm here, must be big fat liars who parked themselves right in front of one of their floor fans .Or they Rexona-ed themselves from head to armpits to every single space in between their thighs and toes. Or they just flew in from sub zero climates with popsicle covered conifers .Maybe they had all their sweat glands removed.

When you look at the foreign staff, they all look malnourished and sickly. As if you just entered the Amazon basin and found yourself some hungry tribes.
You feel like an evil glutton. I mean how can you even have the heart to eat like a datuk when the servers all look so thin,pale,ill,underfed,undercared ,overworked.... like they contracted some unknown strain of yet to be undiscovered batuk.
The chefs on the other hand, are plumpish and well fed, cos perhaps they perfected the art of curi makan from our plates. I said perhaps.

So there you are, staring at your plate to forget the horror right in front of you,when you discover that everything has got some small purple plant or colourful flower somewhere on the plate,as well as on your food. At times, the flowers are certainly bigger than certain foods on your plate.
You will come to a point where you get suspicious and wonder if all of the decorative flowers and herbs are totally edible ? Not all I think. Maybe I am wrong or Maybe they get their workers to eat the flowers. To minimise wastage. Since eco is a new hip catchword. As well as increase fibre in their gut so they have more energy to sustain the night under such incredibly oven like quarters.

However, if you think your Ah Moi will like this place, you better make sure she comes in beachwear with a fast drying bikini set and has a hairstyle that can take constant blowing from the fans. Or she will not like you anymore, especially if she just spent 6 hours on the chair, enduring some expensive treatment at the saloon

Finally is the food nice ? Pompous looking average tasting hotel fare.

Drinks leh ? Makes you wanna thump your chest out and yell till the eagles evacuate the meromictic lake area.

Value leh ? Cherocherochero.

Atmosphere ? You pay good money to dine in a semi dark botanical nursery and help put anti perspirant companies on the Forbes list.

Price ?  Kong sized enough to make any jungle loose its virginity.