Two weekends ago, we capped off my best friend's hen weekend with the finest of Singaporean traditions: a good South-East Asian meal. This hadn't been on the cards initially, but as the best friend's fiancé was away, and as we were finally allowing her to go back to her home and her beloved car (the rest of us can't or don't drive), she suggested heading out to Cafe East in Surrey Quays for dinner.

We didn't mind. It's not the easiest place to get to from most parts of London, but if she was driving, who was I to disagree? Besides, the rest of my girlfriends seem to like the place, and that was good enough for me.

So off we went to Surrey Quays Shopping Centre, a place I used to frequent while I was in university many years ago, as I lived in the area. I don't think Cafe East was around while I was living there, although being a poor student, it's not as if I ate out all that often.

This photo's for you, bellaphon, so you know what it looks like when you finally get there!

The place was quite crowded when we arrived, although we got a table pretty quickly. It probably took about 15 minutes for us to get a table for five.

We started off with the coconut cream drink my friend swore was "to die for", and was the main reason we had all been dragged to this part of East London in the first place. While the waitress serving us told us rather apologetically that the kitchen had run out of the green jelly (apparently my friends' favourite part of the drink), they took the risk and ordered it anyway, only to discovered that the green jelly was indeed still in good supply. I didn't try the drink. After a weekend of pure decadence, I had to go back to watching my weight.

The meal proper began with with two orders of Vietnamese rolls. Each serving had nine mini-rolls, which resulted in a bit of a battle as there were five of us so one or more of us would end up eating less. Fortunately, my friend's boyfriend didn't like this (to a chorus of "why??" from my friends) and the battle was resolved. The sweet and tangy sauce which came with this was really nice, and is probably the main reason why I like Vietnamese food.

Pretty much everyone other than myself ordered the rare beef pho. The beef arrived admirably rare, as can be seen in the photo, and while I don't generally go for pho, I thought the soup was fantastic. If I hadn't been having such a bad throat following the weekend's antics, I would probably have ordered this just based on my friends' recommendations.

Instead, I went for the dry option: vermicelli with pork and non-spicy sauce (on account of the bad throat again). I really liked the pork and the sauce, but not so much the spring roll (unsurprisingly because while I don't hate spring rolls, I'm not a big fan of them either).

As you may have guessed by now, I can't remember any of the dish names, although I think the one I ate was 8a on the dry menu. I thought Cafe East had a website, but haven't been able to find any hint of it via Google, so you'll have to make do with my descriptions and the photos!

The bill came up to about £55 for the entire meal of two starters, five mains and five drinks. As with everyone else who's eaten there, I am in complete agreement with how affordable the place was, particularly given how good the food tasted.

The only minor quibble we had was with the service; while friendly, the waitress seemed to forget of our existence after we had been sat down. I didn't really have any issues with this, as I'm quite used to such service from restaurants in Singapore. However, as a friend pointed out, this would be a major issue for people choosing to dine al fresco. If you can't remember we're there when we're in plain sight, how much worse could it get if we're not anywhere near the cashier or kitchen?

Cafe East
100 Redriff Road (Surrey Quays Shopping Centre)
London SE16 7LH
Tel: 020 8691 7777

This has got to be the ultimate, cheesiest WWE line ever. It's so bad, it's good.

From Judgement Day 2009:
The Miz: I have no problem beating you down.
Santino Marella: I hope you brought your metal detector.
The Miz: Why?
Santino: Because I brought some GUNS.
Santino rips off the sleeves of his tee and flexes.
Santino: And I'm not afraid to use them.

Imagine all of that in a bad Italian accent and it's even more awesome. Bwa ha ha ha!

Last night, an old friend was in town, and wanted to meet up in Islington. Urban Spoon threw up Double Club, a restaurant I thought had closed a few months back. As my friend lives in the US, I thought this place was an ideal place in which to eat, given that Congolese food isn't the kind of food you'd find all over the US, unlike the other dining options of Mexican and Japanese.

That, and because I'm one of those people who likes to go to places because they're cool and hip, but only if I can afford it. I'm a cost-conscious hipster.

Anyway, Double Club is a pop-up restaurant designed by German artist Carsten Höller and operated by Mourad Mazouz, the man behind Momo and Sketch.

Upon our arrival, the doorman/bouncer took my name and led us all the way through the club area and right to the maître d'. The maître d' then led us to our table in the incredibly cool dining area which seemed to be filled with the most beautiful serving staff you'd ever see. None of the thin statuesque African waitresses would be out of place on America's Next Top Model. Seriously. Fortunately for us, the staff were also incredibly friendly, something I didn't quite expect from a restaurant which has been on top of the 'cool' list for some time now.

Dining area

My friend and I took some time perusing the menu. You could either choose to have Congolese food, or Western dishes. Being the adventurous people that we were, we decided to eat only from the Congolese side of the menu. Our waitress advised us that the Congolese dishes were a little on the small side, and that we should order three or four plates to share, as well as a side.

So we ordered the white bean casserole with pig trotters, makayabu (salted fish with onion, tomato and chilli), bitekuteku (green vegetables with African aubergine and smoked salted fish) and a side of chikwange (Manioc paste cooked in Marantacee leaves) to share.

L to R: White bean casserole (£8.50), bitekuteku (£6.50) and makayabu (£8.50)

Chikwange (£3)

The food turned out to be a complete surprise. While the white bean casserole was just about above average, the bitekuteku and the makayabu were delicious. And the chikwange was pretty much like a ketupat but not as strong-tasting. And although the servings didn't look too large, my friend and I found ourselves unable to finish the food we'd ordered.

Somewhat disappointingly, the dessert menu didn't throw up any surprises. All of the options were decidedly Western, and nothing really caught our eye.

So, although we could have lingered longer (we didn't have to return the table for another 45 minutes), we went off to explore the rest of the club.

For an establishment sponsored by the Fondazione Prada, it was only fitting that there was rather nice art gracing the walls of the bar. Not in the framed pieces of art sense, but more like murals and graphics à la Andy Warhol.

Bar

Mural

And just like the restaurant, the bar was filled with incredibly beautiful serving staff. My friend pronounced the clientele 'achingly hip' which apparently also included me by virtue of the fact that a) I knew about this place, b) I'd brought him there and c) I generally manage to do cool things. Given that I was anything but cool when he and I were in school together, it was nice to hear.

As neither he nor I wanted to drink anymore (it was a school night, after all), we decided to take advantage of the warm weather and the fact that it was still light outside at 9 pm, and wander around Angel. 'Twas a pity as I would have loved to have stayed and seen the dance club when it was in full swing, but that wasn't an option.

Double Club closes in September, after which it will move to Milan. I'd love to return and try the Western menu. The burger is supposed to be very good. And given that 50% of all profits go to UNICEF/City of Joy, I can take great comfort and pleasure in the fact that I'm doing a good deed simply by eating.

Double Club
7 Torrens Street
London EC1V 1NQ
+44 207 837 2222

My re-entry into the workforce has provided an unexpected boost to the European economy.

Shortly before starting my new job, I went to Santiago de Compostela, the weekend after that, my friends and I treated a dear friend to a somewhat more sedate but infinitely more welcomed hen night, and then, the late May bank holiday weekend, I went to Paris with some friends, which resulted in my hitting and average of 1.33 chocolate shops a day for me, including Jean-Paul Hevin, Pierre Hermé, Patrick Roger (all three of which are mentioned in The Guardian's feature on The World's Best Chocolate) and Cacao et Chocolat. I also picked up a couple of bars from Michel Cluizel and Bonnat from my neighbourhood Monoprix. To say I am a little chocolate-d and macaroon-ed out would be a huge understatement.

The only bad thing was... because of the immense heat, the chocolates I bought from Pierre Hermé melted into one lumpy mess! Sigh. That'll teach me. Next time, I won't wait to eat them.

Anyway, I managed to go to two delightful restaurants which were off the tourist path, so there'll be photos of that - as well as the chocolate - to follow, hopefully shortly.

O Dezaseis
Rua de San Pedro, 16
15703 Santiago de Compostela
Tel: +34 981 564880





While researching for my trip to Santiago de Compostela, I came across a New York Times review of O Dezaseis (which means 16 in Galician, I think) singing the restaurant's praises. According to reviewer Mark Bittman, not only was the place cheap, but the quality of the food was incredible. Being a traveller who tends to stick on the budget side of things (that's $$ and below for those of you used to Frommer's ratings), that naturally appealed to me. Best of all, I could make reservations online, thereby confirming I had at least one good place to eat prior to arrival in SdC.

O Dezaseis is located on Rua de San Pedro, a large street near the Porta do Camino, called thus because this is the 'gate' through which all pilgrims on the Camino will pass through when arriving in SdC. It wasn't too hard to find, given that all I had to do was walk for about eight minutes from my wonderfully located hotel.

Upon arrival, I found that I was the first customer of the night. I'd made a reservation for 8.30 pm, not quite being able to get accustomed to the fact that most Spainards tend to eat dinner at 9.30 pm or later. It's just not something I can cope with, though, of course, if I started taking a siesta every afternoon, perhaps I could get into that habit.

Anyway, I didn't mind too much, though I do hate being the centre of attention, and that sort of thing tends to happen when you're a) the first customer of the night, b) obviously not their usual sort of customer and c) alone. That being said, my table ended up being in a nice, cozy corner of the main room, right by a disused fireplace, so I was hidden away from the rest of the restaurant, but could still be seen by the waitstaff in the event I needed anything.

Now, down to the tedious yet joyful task of deciding what to eat. I do love my food, but I can't eat that much (fortunately), so I settled on a glass of albarino (white wine from Galicia) two racions: empanada da casa (stuffed pastry, and recommended by my hotel) and polbo a grella (grilled octopus), both of which are specialties of Galicia. The latter was highly recommended by Jon, a CouchSurfer with whom I met up on my first day in SdC, and whose blog led to my deciding that I would give Casa Marcelo a shot.

The empanada turned out to be filled with tuna and pimentón (Spanish paprika). I thought the portions were a tad small, but it was delicious nonetheless.

The polbo was, in a word, fantastic. The generous serving of octopus consisted of four tentacles which had been sprinkled with pimentón and grilled on a plancha (an extremely hot metal plate). I felt a little guilty realising that I was consuming half of an octopus, but the moment I put a sizeable, meaty steak-like piece of octopus in my mouth and tasted how awesome it was, my regrets vanished.

Empanada da casa (€4.60)

Polbo a grella (€9.80)

I told you it was steak-like.

I struggled to finish the octopus. I really did. But I somehow managed. Then a waiter came over and asked if I would like a dessert. I hesitated for the briefest of moments, and thought, heck, I'm a female, and we always have room for dessert, no? So, I asked the waiter for his favourite dessert and ended up with a creme caramel cake with hot chocolate sauce which was utterly divine. I think I devoured it in double quick time!

Creme caramel cake with hot chocolate sauce (€3.60)

The meal was then finished off with a digestif of orujo which is local to Galicia). The waiter ran me through the four different kinds of orujo, including a colourless one ("white"), one with toasted herbs, one with herbs and a fourth I can't recall. I asked for the least strong kind, and was given the one with toasted herbs.

Orujo

As it was served in a shot glass, I asked whether I had to down it. His response? "For you, no. You drink slowly. Me, I down." Heh. Given my face was rather pink after the wine, they were probably worried I'd pass out in the corner and they wouldn't be able to go home! So, I took my time with it. It reminded me of sambuca, as it was a little on the sweet side. In fact, I found it almost sickeningly sweet, and doubt I'll be taking it the next time I'm eating in a Galician restaurant.

Anyway, with my meal done, and my digestif finished, it was time to pay. My bill turned out to be just about €20, with the orujo having been on the house! What a great price for such a substantial and incredibly good meal. This having been the same day I ate at Casa Manolo and the day before I was to have lunch at Casa Marcelo, I recall thinking to myself, "how on earth am I going to eat so much food?!"

Well, I obviously survived the gastronomical paradise that is Santiago de Compostela, and without putting on too much weight. I guess the impromptu decision to hike to Mount Pedroso earlier that day balanced out all of the calories I took in!

Casa Manolo
Praza de Cervantes
15704 Santiago de Compostela
Tel: +34 981 58 29 50

Monday - May 4th - Lunch

Casa Manolo must be one of the best value restaurants in the whole wide world; the restaurant, which is featured in practically every guidebook on Santiago de Compostela I read (so, at least four) is located very centrally, right on Praza de Cervantes, and is beautifully designed. According to the staff at my hotel, the restaurant had been refurbished by a prestigious local architect recently.

And it showed! It was very clean, bright and casual, yet not too casual, if you get what I mean. It reminded me of my home back in Singapore.

Waiting area

Dining area

Bathroom

Casa Manolo is incredibly popular, not just with tourists, but with locals as well. This is because of its incredible set menu which consists of a starter, a main, a dessert and a small bottle of water, all for just €8.50. Yes, you read right. A three course meal and a drink for €8.50. Now where in Western Europe are you ever going to get such an offer?

Menu of the day (Spanish)

There were all sorts of items available on the set menu, ranging from Galician fish soup to chicken parmigiana to fish and chips. But I didn't come all the way just to have fish and chips, so I asked the waitress to recommend something nice and, yet, authentic. She recommended the noodles with clams for my starter, and the tiburon, a dish which didn't appear on the English menu. After a couple of minutes whereupon my waitress confirmed that a) it only appeared on the Spanish menu and b) it was available, she told me that the tiburon (shark in Spanish) was one of the best dishes they offered.

Noodles with clams (and other seafood)

When the noodles with clams arrived, I was astonished; the serving size was rather generous. In addition, there weren't just clams. There were prawns, mussels and squid as well. Incredible! Now, the noodles weren't spectacular, but they were good enough.

Tiburon (shark)

For the main course, Casa Manolo remained true to form, and served up an equally generous portion of shark. It was larger than my head and then some! I must have made some kind of surprised noise as the men sitting at the table next to me turned around and exclaimed in surprise. One of them then asked if he could take a photo of the dish. That's how large it was .

All that I could manage

And this is how much of it I could finish.

I just had the dessert to go, and it turned out to be a Cornetto.

Cornetto

By this time, I was convinced I'd been suckered and somehow given the special premium menu which cost a lot more. However, when I went to the counter to pay, it turned out to be just €8.50. Whoa. A beautifully done-up restaurant with great service right in the middle of a tourist hotspot charging this price for a three-course meal? Just unbelievable.

Unbelievably good value

Unsurprisingly, there were people patiently waiting for a table as I walked out the door. I'll bet that Casa Manolo's also popular with the pilgrims. After all, after a long and gruelling journey, they must be starving!

Hah! I knew it! Sex and God do mix (aka the Catholic kama sutra)!

Whenever I get a copy of The London Paper, one of the columns I eventually end up turning to is the one where people text in a little message to someone they've seen but were too shy to go up to. I guess it's something akin to the Missed Connections section of CraigsList, but more public, and with a possibility that the other person may recognise a particular encounter as described in 140 characters or however many that are allowed.

While I like reading the posts - I guess it's kind of like a study of human interaction - I'll admit a small part of me hopes that I'll one day find myself in there. Not because I think there's a Prince Charming out there who'll notice me as I sit opposite him in the train or what not. But just so that I can say, hey, the sheer force of my personality made someone notice me enough to go to the trouble of writing in. In other words, the same reasoning why I liked listening to Flirty at 9.30.

In my previous job, the chances of my appearing on that page were very low. I walked to work, after all, and never ever bumped into anyone. In my new job, however, I commute, so the probability has increased just a little bit. But with my luck, rather than offering to buy me a drink or what not sometime, the post will read something like this:

To the Chinese lady who tumbled head over heels down the stairs at [censored] tube on Thursday morning, you're a clutz and you need less slippery shoes. Don't wear heels if you can't handle them!

For that's precisely what happened. Except that it had nothing to do with heels and I have no idea how or why I fell the way I did. I'm just lucky that I decided to wear trousers to work, or I would have ended up with no skin on both my shins. Yowtch!

That's not even the worst part. Not a single person tried to help me. I heard someone ask if I was all right, but when I got to my feet, there was not a kind soul in sight. One of my best friends said that I shouldn't have been my typical tough girl and pulled myself up that quickly (even though I had to lean against the wall after that), and that I should have "played it like the Italian football team, and [stayed] on the ground for longer in order to milk sympathy."

Hee!

Sedap on Old Street is a great place if you love Singaporean and Malaysian food. Located just at the end of Whitecross Street, it's a gem that's amazingly close to the City.

Sedap (before the dinner crowd)

I first went to Sedap close to two months ago, when my friends and I got together to plan a surprise for a good friend. During that particular visit, we had the Malaysian tofu (deep fried tofu in peanut sauce) and sambal brinjal to share for our starters. For the mains, we all ordered the Penang char kway teow, as did almost everyone else in the restaurant that night.

Malaysian tofu (£3.90)

Sambal brinjal (£4.80)

Penang char kway teow (£6.95)

The sambal brinjal and the char kway teow were delicious, while the Malaysian tofu was all right. The only thing is, at £4.80, the brinjal dish isn't exactly the cheapest in the world.

The next time I returned to Sedap was on Sunday night. My friend and I had been arranging to meet up for a laksa dinner for the longest time but just never got around to it (you know how it is) so we'd decided to celebrate my new job by finally eating some laksa. The only problem was that I hadn't eaten laksa in London before, nor had she, and we didn't quite know where to go. I turned to the authority on Singaporean and Malaysian cuisine in London, namely, bellaphon, and he suggested Sedap.

So Sedap it was!

To start off, my friend, who isn't Singaporean but loves the food, ordered the Malaysian chicken satay (four sticks for £4.90). I'm of the opinion that you don't get good satay outside of South-East Asia, and this was no different. I mean it was decent, but not spectacular. I found the peanut sauce a little bitter which was rather odd, but it wasn't enough to put me off eating it.

And for our mains, we shared a Singapore laksa and a char kway teow. The char kway teow was just as good as the first time I ate it. As for the laksa, it was simply sedap lah. It wasn't anywhere as spicy as the ones you get back in Singapore, but given that it's London, it was good enough.

Singapore laksa (£6.80)

And good news for those who live or work in the City! Sedap offers free delivery and a 5% discount for all orders above £10.

And here's where I put in a belated blog thanks to bellaphon for lunch at one of East London's hidden gems on the day I was to have the laksa dinner. Muchos gracias!

Casa Marcelo
1E Rúa das Horfas
15705 Santiago de Compostela

Tel: +34 981 558 580

Tuesday - May 5th - 1.45 pm

Casa Marcelo, owned and operated by head chef Marcelo Tejedor, is a one Michelin star restaurant specialising in Galician cuisine. It's located in a prime location in a quiet street just off the main city square, Praza do Obradoiro. Unfortunately, Chef Marcelo was not there the day I chose to eat there. I was given to understand that he does not prepare the lunches at the restaurant, but I may have misunderstood the waitress's halting English, especially seeing as lunch and dinner cost exactly the same, so I don't think there should be any real reason for him not to be there at lunchtime normally.

The unassuming front of Casa Marcelo

The interior was done up very nicely as one might imagine an upmarket restaurant to look like. What caught my eye was the fact that the kitchen was open plan. That's right. You could watch the kitchen staff prepare your food right in front of you. The kitchen, as you can see from the photo, was very clean and shiny, and I liked that the pots were copper. I don't know why, but it just invoked a feeling of tradition in an incredibly modern place.

Dining area

Open-plan kitchen

There is no a la carte at Case Marcelo; the only menu available is a €60 tasting menu consisting of nine courses (including two desserts). It's not exactly the most affordable meal in the world, particularly given the plethora of great restaurants in Santiago de Compostela, but, what the hey, I wanted to experience the atmosphere of a Michelin-starred restaurant for myself. Sadly, I found out that Casa Marcelo's menu used to cost around €35 in 2006, but prices have since increased, and by a rather substantial amount at that.

These were the nine courses that were served that day. The dishes were figured out through a combination of the waitress's translation of the Spanish name into English, and guesswork. I found them all very inventive; whoever would have thought to make a popcorn ball with a foie gras middle, or serve chocolate freeze-dried?

Clockwise from top left: house bread and corn bread, popcorn-covered foie gras, bread-ball in consomme of beef, and mackerel

Clockwise from top left: potato 'legs' with bacon bits, first asparagus of spring, hake in lemon juice, cream and oil, beef cooked with steam served on a bed of cabbage

Top to bottom: mandarin ice-cream with freeze-dried almond and chocolate bits, strawberry tartlet

My favourites out of all the courses were the popcorn/foie gras combination, potato 'legs' (which was nice and crispy), beef cooked with steam, and the mandarin ice-cream, which called up memories of Chinese New Year, as the ice-cream tasted exactly like a mandarin, and not like some cold artificial facsimile of a fruit. I excitedly tried to explain the last part to the waitress, but neither her English nor my French was up to it.

I also liked being able to watch the kitchen staff at work. After the waitress took away my plate, she would call out to the kitchen what course should be served next, and the chef and his three assistants would start preparing it from scratch. Each assistant had clearly segregated duties, from warming the plates by the flames, to squirting the cream into the sauce, to ensuring the cabbage was laid just right.

Head chef for the day preparing the beef dish

The service was very attentive. After every course, the waitress would come up to me and check if I liked it. For the most part, I did, although my mouth wasn't in the best shape that day, as I'd burnt my tongue and the roof of my mouth earlier in the trip. Perhaps because of that, I didn't think the fish dishes were anything extraordinary, although, truth be said, I'm not the biggest fish fan around, and seem to like it only when covered in sambal chilli. In any case, the waitstuff pretty much figured the only Spanish I knew was "gracias" (said the Galician way) and "muy bien!"

After I somehow managed to finish off all of the courses (it was really tough going as this girl is not made to eat that much food), the waitress offered to take me on a little behind-the-scenes tour of the kitchen. Maybe it was the large camera beside me, and the fact that I was writing note after each course arrived, or perhaps it was because I was alone (as the couple beside me who'd finished at the same time I did weren't offered this)... who knows? In any case, I accepted and took some photos of them clearing away the food for storage.

Un petit tour de la cuisine

Un petit tour de la cuisine II

All in all, the bill came up to €73 for the tasting menu, a glass of white wine (I'd gone for the ribeiro, if memory serves) and a large bottle of sparkling water.

Would I recommend this restaurant if you happen to be in Santiago de Compostela? Sure, why not? It's definitely worth a try if you have the money to spare. Good dining doesn't always have to be just about the food; it's about the ambience and the service and the overall experience as well, and this place manages to score well on all fronts. It's probably better if you go with friends though. I'm the kind of person who gets a little shy from all the attention, so friendly service can sometimes get to me when I'm dining by myself.

Basement Jaxx - Raindrops is probably going to be the dance anthem of the summer, and deservedly so. It's an utterly amazingly happy song and features Felix Buxton on vocals. The song's slightly reminiscent of Romeo some years back, but is better in a more chaotically ecstatic way. And it gets better with every listen.

Some reviewers have called this the Jaxx's comeback. As far as I'm concerned, they never really went away. Granted, they haven't had any stellar hits in the last few years, and while Oh My Gosh and Good Luck could be considered hits in their own right, their success pales in comparison to songs such as Where's Ur Head At? - the best dance anthem in the world ever - and Red Alert. But, still, they didn't split up, nor did they go away. They've always been here, producing their own unique brand of funky electro.

But enough from me. Give it a listen. I defy you not to come away from this tune just that little bit happier.

In spite of all the time I've spent in London, I have never once set foot in Shakespeare's Globe to watch a play. Until last night, and even then, it was to catch Che Walker's The Frontline (yes, not a Shakespearean play).

There's really not much I can say about The Frontline which hasn't already been said. Set in modern-day Camden, the play has a cast of 23 characters which takes us through a dozen or so stories. Often, the narrative swings between a dialogue between one set of characters to another, entirely different one between another set. It's like being in a crowded train station and overhearing snippets of various conversations, but not quite being able to hear any one particular discussion in its entirety. It's a little confusing, and with the relatively poor acoustics of the theatre, also rather hard to hear some of the actors as well. There are also some entertaining songs sprinkled throughout the play. As a result, the overall play reminded me rather strongly of Rent, except set in London, and with many more characters, ranging from Christians to young drug-dealers to strippers and hot dog sellers. It's incredibly entertaining, and riddled with plenty of smart, laugh-worthy moments.

The characters which stood out were Beth (a golden-voiced Golda Rosheuvel), the born-again Christian who's haunted by her junkie ex-lover, Mordechai Thurrock (Trystan Gravelle), a full-of-himself thespian who's constantly on stage leaving messages for an agent (imploring her to come see his "tsunami of talent", Violet (Jo Martin), a feisty lap-dancer, and a befuddled old man who's in Camden every night who mistakes every single female he sees for his long-lost daughter. The last character (played by Paul Copley), in particular, could have been a rather tired conceit by the third time we see him, but, instead, he manages to come across as sad, lost and pathetic, a figure to be pitied, as opposed to being derided.

Part-way through the first half, we are told by the Scottish hot dog seller, who also acts as the narrator and observer throughout the play, that Miruts, an Ethiopian drug dealer, will be killed before the end of the night. This being modern-day London, it's difficult to imagine a weekend when some young person isn't killed senselessly. And this is where it doesn't quite make sense. The murder, when it happens, comes and goes far too quickly. There's no real impact. And I'll admit that it was then I started to feel guilty for laughing during other parts of the show, because of the serious business of murder. But then again, I guess that's also part of London. Murders happen every day, and they don't leave any sort of mark on the city, so very unlike Singapore, where a murder will be in the papers for days and weeks on end.

Ultimately, The Frontline is an entertaining commentary on the rather sad state of affairs that is modern-day life. It takes all the characters we see, or rather choose not to see, in everyday London, and brings us all on an exciting, exhilarating ride through two nights in Camden.

Just one last note: to maintain the authenticity of the experience, I elected to purchase a £5 standing ticket, much like audiences had to make do with in the days of yore. Seats on benches cost £15, with cushions and seat-back rentals costing more. If you've got bad knees or a bad back, I'd advise you to go for the seating option. Standing for three hours or more is most definitely not advised for those with such conditions.

Paul A. Young - Good not just for chocolates, but also for ice-cream in spring and summer.

I did my usual thing of asking for a recommendation. Even before I finished my question, the sales assistant said, "double chocolate brownie ice-cream".

And because you're only young once, and it was the weekend, I opted for hot chocolate sauce, chocolate sprinkles and chocolate balls over my scoop of ice-cream.

The hot chocolate sauce solidified right after it was poured over the ice-cream. It was wonderful.

At £3.50 a scoop, it's not the cheapest around, but it's definitely worth trying it once (or several times) especially when the weather's hot outside!