The Rumbling Tummy

Under $100. That's how much I spent in Batam including a night's hotel stay, seven square meals, cream bath therapy, multiple trips to the snacks emporium and one epic karaoke session. Having a pair of local residents for hosts, meant we could stretch our rupiah for a lot, a lot of fun. And here are some of the best makan places they've recommended.

But first, a tip: When you're with a cab driver, the name of the restaurant is as good as it's address. Just say the name, and you’ll get there soon enough.

Batam Centre

BBQ and pork always make a cute couple. But making an appearance as a very distracting third wheel today is... a dashing side dish of racikan bumbu darah (pig's blood gravy). [Read more]

Nagoya

I've come a long way to taste the holy grail of stingrays. Thick, succulent steaks grilled to perfection and topped up with a non-spicy tumeric gravy for cheap! cheap! cheap! [Read more]

Barelang Bridge I

The wonderful thing about Citra Utama 188 is, it's a kelong. Tell me that the idea of a water house on stilts doesn't sing to the diehard romantic in you. Or that a bucketful of crayfish going for a song doesn't bring out the wanton cheapskate in you. [Read more]

Sekupang

BPK. My girlfriend Anita says it’s a Medanese delicacy. (She’s Medanese so take her word for it). But it’s surely also a Batam delicacy, ‘cos it’s every *bleeping* where you look.

We started out trip with a BPK meal in Batam Centre. And now we end our trip with another epic BPK meal in Sekupang. This time, I’m more than ready to lap up the pig’s blood gravy. 

Having said that though, the gravy here isn’t as fantastic. But the meat itself is much much tastier. Packs a crispy crunch.

How about seafood right in the sea? How about finger-licking happy without a care about the price? Now how about this: Enjoy all at Citra Utama 188. A kelong at the southern end of Batam. 

Now, I don’t really now how much a meal here costs because our lunch was entirely covered by our generous hosts Gaby and Santi. But they say it’s super affordable. The crayfish especially, or as the locals call it, Udang Kipas. 

Here’s how the locals order. On arrival, you head straight for the netted fish enclosures. To pick out live sea creatures that are ultimately, destined for your table. In our case, Santi the man went straight for the crayfish enclosure. Pointed at this and that, checked for male/female crayfish and then you hear it. 

Dong, dong, dong. 

The steady drumbeat of crustacean hitting heavy plastic. Crayfish filling up out bucket, en route to the kitchen for some buttering up. And then to our table for 5. 

When the sun shuts the daylight and the moon puts on its shady glow, the cars make a beeline for the exit of this parking lot. In their place, an army of plastic chairs and foldable tables quickly planted by foodsellers from buildings on either side. Cats, first customers of the evening, take their seats under the tables.

The romance of Batam.

Most people come here for ikan pari or stingray. So it's no wonder that Acia Ikan Bakar, the specialty grilled fish foodstall that serves up a mean steak of stingray, is the headlining star of this makan paradise. 

Each steak is thick and meaty, grilled for just the right amount of time so that you can still taste the freshness that oozes into your mouth with every bite that you take. The flesh peels off at the touch of the fork. And the tumeric gravy that comes with it gives the sweet meat just that added twist of salty. Enak ya.

If time and tummy permits, I'd recommend that you try every food stall in this area. Because you can't just be eating stingray for dinner and supper. My favourite carbs here come in the form of ham mie (ham as in cockles). It's just like the best char kway teow we have back in Singapore, just in the form of thick yellow noodles instead of the kway teow. And the ham, thankfully, taste more like clams than bloody cockles. 

One of my travel buddies and Batam regular, Miss Koen. She kept saying she wanted martabak for dessert. After lunch. After dinner. After supper. I was like, dang, how many square meals can a skinny chick eat?

Wasn't until we finally had our martabak that I realised, it really was dessert and not the tummy-filling Indian dish that goes by almost the same name in Singapore. 

Martabak in Batam and probably all of Indonesia by extension, is closer relative to min jiang kueh. But rather than a singular filling of peanuts, it houses a boatload of other ingredients like corn, gula melaka and what I think is shaven coconut. 

Barbecued pork is nothing new. But in Batam, BPK (pronounced bé pé ka) is quite something else. Because it's not just about the pork but everything that comes with it. The vege, potato leaf soup, sambal hijau and... pig's blood gravy. 

Now some things I just don't eat. Like worms. Dogs. Turtles. Fish eyeballs. Sheep testicles. Whale sperm. Uggh. Pig's blood should to be on that list too. But how do you say 'No,' to a friend who's earnestly trying to introduce you to her hometown pride and joy?

This uninspired photo below is an honest reflection of my hesitation. 

ANITA: This is so unhealthy but it's so good! My father eats it every yada yada yada...

In my head: My father couldn't make me eat pig's blood no matter how hard he tried.

ANITA: You don't eat blood isit? *crestfallen face*

Me: I eat! Just. Not. Often.

In my head: Where to run? Where to hide? Ahhhhh!!!!!

With that, I bravely dipped the pork into the gravy and brought it to my clenched lips. A stolen glance in ANITA's direction painted a picture of eager anticipation. Heart melts, lips part...

... and the gates of heaven open to receive The Rumbling Tummy.

Sushi Kou Orchid Hotel, Street Level

Let's get this straight. Japanese food is not cheap. But tell that to the tums. She doesn't care. She's not the one pulling in the hard-earned cash month after month. Next to her appetite for alcohol (thank goodness that's something of a past now), it's her obsession with nihon ryori that's making me live hand to mouth.

"But who can say 'no' to that?"

Whole Aji ($22). That's one of the few items I always order at Sushi Kou, one of few affordable places I go to get the tum's fix. And then there's the tako wasabi. 

It's the best tako wasabi ($5) ever. They do this too at a few other Japanese places, but nothing beats this one. It may be an acquired taste but, This. Is. The. Best.

Every Tuesday and Friday, Sushi Kou casts its fishing net into Tsukiji Market – yes, the famous fish market in Tokyo – and reels in the freshest off-menu items to the restaurant.

I always ask for Sea Bass. Had my first taste of the sashimi here and loved it at first bite.

And sometimes, the manager here offers me a surprise:

That's called shirako, otherwise known as cod sperm. Yucks. Never again. Not that it tastes horrible but it's... sperm!

Of course, it gets cheaper when you go with friends. Alone, I usually go for the kaisen don ($26). 

It's taken me too long to pay homage to Sushi Kou, my go-to Japanese restaurant. There's still a lot to talk about. Like their eat-until-you-burst omakase ($50, $80. $100). It's not mind-blowing like the one at next-door Teppei, but there are more seats here and you never wait for a table.  

Now, those of you who've been following my blog will know I'm a nutcase about Tokyo – who isn't? Anyway, as part of my latest Rumbling Tummy blog revamp, I thought that I should roll my Tokyo food write-ups into one. So if you're interested in my recommendations on the must-eats, you've got it all in one place. (Restaurant name and address inset in photo)

Shinjuku

To break the golden egg or not to break – dilemma of the worst kind. This specialty restaurant serves Nagoya-style chargrilled chicken donburi. [Read more]

(Photo: Partial menu. Chef's Recommendation Special Set includes more items)

One of Tokyo's most established tempura joints. Here, tempura isn't just dipped in sauce – they also give you salt, seaweed salt and wasabi salt to go with the food. Make reservations before arrival. [Read more] 

It's like hitting pay dirt in the dead of the night when everything else is in twilight zone... This joint is open to warm bodies 24/7. They feature the freshest catch: Sashimi and Grill. [Read more]

Ueno

Best tonkatsu ever. This home-style specialty restaurant seats less than 20 people, mostly regulars from what I've observed. I've never seen snaking crowds but that's why this place is a hidden gem. Totally authentic, totally un-touristy. [Read more]

Yurakucho

This particular area is known as Yurakucho Gadoshita (lit. under the train tracks) – for all the tiny izakayas you'll find littered all over the streets. Beer, sake and yakitori, everything's really cheap here. And good. And the mood is friendly and relaxed. [Read more]

Tsukiji Market

(Photo: Partial menu. One-person Set includes more items)

Breakfast at the W

My old habits: Regularly exercising your jaw and only your jaw. Taking 5-minute cab rides ‘cos a 10-minute walk just ‘takes up too much time’. Getting your ass off the bed/couch/whatever because between lazy and hungry, hungry wins.

I carry the strong gene of doing absolutely everything I can to do nothing. On top of that, I have a tummy that begs me all the time with puppy eyes, to take her out to eat. 

Control and discipline are the two words I’ve never bothered to comprehend. And so the only driving force that keeps me away from the oncoming traffic of an early health-related death is the collective feelings of happiness and pleasure in doing things I enjoy.

Yoga is an obvious example for me. Not only am I going for classes regularly, I’m also in the new habit of actually walking to class. Rather than cabbing it. (It helps that it’s very difficult to get taxis right before lesson time – but whatever does the job, right?)

I also love soup.

So lunch every day is soup. I proudly say ‘no’ to rice or noodles when the stall helper asks if I’d like an order of it. But occasionally, I cave in to tau kee, which is super unhealthy because of the lardy gravy that comes with it. 

Of course I’ve still a ways to go before I’m rid of my bad habits. But they’re dying surely with every step I take towards yoga class (and every stair I climb to power plates class for that matter – that bi-directional flight to jelly legs). And if I can’t portion control, it matters less since it’s soup I’m drinking more of. 

Imperial Treasure Steamboat Restaurant TripleOne Somerset, Level 1

This was a whiles back, when I first discovered that I've pretty much drunk myself into the terrible state of puking everything I eat. This, on a day that could've been the best day of tum's life... Instead all that the poor thing could do was sip, nibble and wait out the waves of pukey sensations as she watched her friends revel in their steamboat feast.

In an alternate reality, a different dimension of space and time. The tums was free to roam the ends of the land called Imperial Treasure Steamboat Restaurant and feed on the whole eco-system of red meat, live seafood and the token vegetable. 

Queen of the food chain, all things delicious at her tongue-tips... but it is the Wagyu beef and skewered live prawns* she preys on with saliva-dripping bloodlust.

Slice after slice of the marbled reds, skinny dipped for just a few seconds then whipped out of a boiling pork broth river, a pinkish tinge of blood still clinging onto its coat... In the death grip of lacquered chopsticks, it enters the enamelled gates of tum's hell.

Not too far behind are the prawns, flesh firm and muscular – they put up the good fight with the grinding molars. Crunch, crunch, crunch. Molars always win. The reward is a seafood cargo of the freshest kind, sent straight into the depths of a patiently-waiting tums.

And the eating goes on all night. A circuit training of beef and prawns, beef and prawns. Just the beef and prawns.

==========

中华火锅 • 拉面 Zhong Hua Steamboat • Ramen 95 Beach Road

So yesterday, my girlfriends and I brought the tums out for a Valentine's all-you-can-eat steamboat dinner. It was a cheap date: $19.90 per person plus 3% SVC – usually it's 10%, what a nice surprise – plus 7% GST. That's like $22 in all.

And the tums was happy. She's been like craving for steamboat ever since that amazing dinner we had at Imperial Treasure (blog post comin' up!) 

While this dinner cannot be compared to Imperial Treasure, the quality nor the price, it gives you excellent value for $$$. Check out my dayre on http://bit.ly/Mmh4hl for the specifics. Meantime, here's some tips for the next time you're thinking of having cheap steamboat date with your tums:

1. Reservations not accepted. Expect to be put on wait list if you arrive between 7 and 8-ish pm.

2. You're on wait list as soon as you speak to the counter guy, he remembers your face and commits your invisible queue number to his amazing memory palace.

3. Tables inside the restaurant are fitted with electric hot pots, tables outside with gas hot pots.

4. Restaurant inside is air-conditioned but barely, tables are packed sardine to sardine.

5. After 9pm, the beef that's dumped into the raw meats section looks anything but a dump. Beautifully thin, red, marbled slices – it's not Wagyu marbling or anything but hey, it's Valentine's and I'm allowed my rose-tinted glasses – the good stuff. Come in for a late dinner after 9 – plus there will be no queue.

7. The fish is amazingly fresh. Definitely go for it. It's sliced thickly, so make sure you cook it longer in the bubbling broth.

Zhong Hua is no Imperial Treasure. So don't expect the wet towels, double chopsticks for raw and cooked meats or what not. Expect styrofoam plates, paper cups for drinks, bulky tissue boxes and no elbow room – you get the picture.

"You slimmed down quite a bit" – and then I got an ang bao.

If only all Chinese New Year greetings sounded so sweet...

If only my body too, would reward my new-found enthusiasm for health and fitness. For all my hard work, it gave me a blardy back pull and three days of sore thighs.

@#$%^%$#

Well, back pull aside, I do have a lot to be thankful for. Despite not being able to control my appetite – doctor said 6 small meals a week but I eased into a diet of 6 full meals, so now I'm back at 3 squares – I have indeed lost a bit of weight.

Nothing that I can report back to you in kilos because I avoid the weighing machine like a plague, but it's clear that the tums is flatter and my waist... oh I've got a waist! Almost forgotten what it feels like to have one.

Seriously, I can feel the great expanse of air floating between my elbows and **my new waist**. My jean button – the one I shifted half an inch off to accommodate the then growing tums – looks like it can finally be positioned where it used to be. And from my mirror, instead of a log cake, I can finally see the makings of an hourglass. 

Five weeks ago, I was only doing Sundays for yoga. Today, I'm doing 4 days per week plus 40 minutes of power plates. Maybe I'm pushing myself too hard and the body is screaming "Stop bitch!"

Yeah I'll stop. Only because yoga on a back pull you gave me means I can't complete the class, which means I'm wasting the money – anyway.

As mentioned previously, I’m moving into a healthier phase of my life. No more alcohol, a little more exercise and a cut-down on calorie laden blog posts.

So far, so good :) I’m especially pleased that I’ve followed through on yoga. My dad said I was mad to have signed up for so many courses in a mere four weeks. And he’s probably right:

• Yin Yang Yoga once a week at the community centre; • 30-class package at Yoga Movement (January-only deal); and • Hatha yoga with my girl buddy at her gym.

On top of that I’ve signed up for power plates sessions.

I feel a little bit bad… for my credit card. But you know what? It's less than what I would’ve paid for a wasted year of gym membership. Plus, it’s money I’ll cover with my ang bao money this year. Hallelujah for Chinese New Year!

So why yoga?

I read somewhere (para-phrasing liberally): When we think exercise, we often think it’s two hours set aside at the gym four times a week. Or pulling ourselves out of bed at 5am every day to run ten klicks. But look at exercise as putting in as much movement as you can into your everyday – walking to the MRT station instead of calling for a cab to work, for example – and suddenly, exercise doesn’t seem like a drag-your-feet-to-the-altar type of commitment anymore. You go into exercise with less stress and it gets easier to make time for it.

Yoga, with all the stretchy-stretchies that you do, preps your muscles for the as-much-movement-as-you-can-put-in type exercise. Sleepy and/or tense muscles like mine aren’t efficient enough (at burning fats) for this sort of thing.

I need my muscles efficient, so I signed up for yoga at the cc. The workaholic in me protested but I said, give me Sunday mornings and only Sunday mornings – and the workaholic relented.

Then I realised that once is week is not enough. I enjoy the way my body feels after yoga. I walk different, I stand different, I can feel my waist again – but only for a day. And so I signed up for more classes. And more classes. And power plates to help build strength for yoga.