I don’t know about you, but I’m embarrassed by Aston’s.
For one, Singaporeans, who’ve been ever willingly taken in by this haunt, can’t actually pronounce the name of the place correctly. “Ashton… Ashton…” they’d repeat, without realizing the faux pas, and it’d just tick me off for some reason. It’s ASS-TURNNNS for goodness sake. If you’re gonna love and frequent the place, at least pronounce the name right. GEEZ. Aston’s, for the uninitiated, is a diner that does local style “western food” – you’ve got your surf and turf and burgers, but while the concept is there, the execution is, generally not as “refined”. The wait staff may (that is if they do ask) ask the doneness of your steak – your reply is almost certainly a rough guideline rather than a strict decorum that must be followed. Still, it remains a favorite firstly because, it’s Singapore culture to go Dutch – the breakdown of prices is clearly stated – secondly, Singaporeans, the masses especially, have no taste, and thirdly, there’s simply nothing else sans fast food to bridge the gap between the low-end stuffy hawker centres and coffee shops and the mid-priced restaurants.
As expected, I exhausted my financial reserves completely, and I ended having to be in the grace of someone elses’ charity, a position which I sorely hate to be placed in. “Beggars can’t be choosers”, so says the saying, so I didn’t object when the team decided on Aston’s. On the bright side, it gave me a perfect opportunity to start eating right, a feat that isn’t always possible nor affordable with Singapore’s food scene. I went with the char-grill chicken, but realized I shot myself in the foot with the mac & cheese side. Oh well, you ain’t living if you can’t let yourself go just a bit, right?