Lucky Fitch
Chinese New Year. Tis’ the season to be shopping. Well, a necessary evil and a valid reason to shop, at least to my mom. After coming back with enough supplies to last us the two days, namely the reunion dinner on the eve, both of us headed midtown. Before the marathon, we dined at Ayam Penyet Ria at Far East Plaza on my suggestion. She was initially most apprehensive, having claimed that the food’s too dry, but on further probing and tasting, I realized she hasn’t actually eaten it at all, and the misconception was, in fact, a stereotype.
After lunch, our agenda was very clear – find a set of clothes for my youngest brother, Nicholas. His dream of being a military pilot came to a very quick end when he wasn’t posted to Officer Cadet School. Instead, he was posted to Guards, which he dreaded. Within a week, he came back with horrific stories of unreasonable punishment and regiment (he’s not physically nor mentally weak or anything, or so, he claims) had frightened the hell into my parents’ minds enough for them to start treating him like a victim, one whose life at home must be as relaxing as they possibly can, a.k.a., leaving him at home where he wants. My mom was determined to shop for him, and I knew that, so if I was gonna get what I want, I needed to conquer that first. However, finding something to his taste turned out to be a lot more difficult than expected. My youngest brother’s fashion preferences guide towards the simplistic, conformist and regular, as he perceives aesthetics and design as a sign of faltering masculinity. This xenophobia also extends to his perception of life, and openly admitted that he sees me being a “clerk”, and my brother being in “Civil Defence”, to our chargrin, as a sign of weakness, and not worthy of respect. He’s young, immature, and not particularly sociable, and still has a lot of necessary suffering to go through. Anyway, after an intensely long back-and-forth at TANGS Orchard, we eventually found something we thought was suitable. But with that, the sun began to set, and she felt she had to go back already…
With a dinner appointment with Darren later, I stayed on, and continued my search for New Year clothes, which on retrospect, was ridiculous, as I originally planned to forego new clothes in favor of saving for Japan. Anyways, despite searching the length of Orchard Road, I didn’t find anything suitable. Perhaps you could say I didn’t know what I was searching for, so nothing was particularly agreeable. However, it took a stroke of fate by Mother Nature to guide this lost sheep to its herd – I was rained in, at Knightsbridge. Without an umbrella, I was stuck with Ralph Lauren, Brooks Brothers, Topman and Abercrombie & Fitch, but in reality and realistically, only the latter two were suitable. With the rain unrelentless, I began trying on clothes in an effort to wait it out. I was really intrigued by Topman, but was unwilling, as the only things that interested me were outerwear and knitwear. After getting the hang of it (and accepting that in the A&F World, I’m a “S”, not an “M”), the clothes really began flaunting the male body, which appealed to me, and gradually sold me the idea that A&F was indeed a good buy, and slowly, I fell in love…
After thanking Titus for making a detour to Knightsbridge to shelter me to the Somerset area, he invited the both of us to join him at dinner. Even though the both of them are friends, and it was through Darren that I was introduced to Titus, the two of them seem to share an “uncomfortable, but somehow mutual friendship”, at least that’s what I see it as. My friendship with Darren is merely based on our mutual interest in aviation although his opinions are more biased, whereas mine’s more objective. If Darren wants to discuss a development badly, he asks me out for dinner. Anyway, instead of mediating between the two of them, and the need to go back-and-forth, I was like, “let’s just stick with the original plan”. Darren suggested Lucky 13, a newly opened Miami-Cuban-themed bar-club-restaurant located at TripleOne Somerset. I was miffed that Lucky 13 had replaced Italianies, which in my opinion, had the best mid-ranged price risottos and pastas, so that was the first distaste. However, the staff who were all too eager to impress, gradually sold us the idea, and we agreed to try it anyhow.
Lucky 13 retains much of Italiannies’ rustic, wooden interior, except there’s an addition of a bar counter. We were told that at 10pm, the place transforms into a bar-club, with “dimmer lighting” and “louder music”, and when we left, there was already a sizeable (mostly Caucasian) crowd seemingly ready in the mood to party.
Let’s be totally honest here. The food’s of reasonable quality, and worth its money, but if you were looking for authenticity in taste and presentation, then you’re in for a big disappointment. While the lack of service charge nor GST makes this one of the cheapest dining spots in the city sans food courts, I was mildly offended by the taste. I didn’t expect authentic taste nor presentation, but I didn’t expect the taste to be sooo dumbed down. The salsa sauce for the nachos for example, was forewarned by the friendly staff that it was mind-numbingly hot, but it turned out to be nothing more than a mild tomato puree with perhaps a single drop of Tobasco sauce in it. Cuban cuisine is inspired by Spain, Africa and the Caribbean – places where I’ve known the food to be full of soul, vitality of a very rich culture – nothing of that sort here.
The shredded beef with black bean rice was alright, but painfully exhausting and dead.
Cuban pressed sandwich. Portions were huge, and tasted great, but the french fries were hugely unnecessary.
