what!? the middle of march already? then it is probably longer ago than i’d like to admit, that i met singapore girl for an early lunch down at the rocks. it was a monday morning in late february, and the night before, i’d wondered if a slap-up meal at the newish baroque bistro would be just a bit over-the-top for a start-of-the-week appointment.

as it turned out, it wasn’t immediately so much of an issue. lunch service doesn’t kick in until noon, and after our cursory lap around the museum of contemporary art, it was just gone 11.30. what to do, what to do. as we pondered in front of the menu by the door, the helpful waitress showed us some pastries in the window which we could have for “breakfast” instead. alas, it appeared that a couple of flies had beat us to it. we sidled up to the indoor cake counter then, and concluded that we might have a drink and a snack until lunchtime.

splendid.

we were ushered back outside, where the sun was bright, and the dark steel tables had absorbed just a little too much warmth to be comfortable. but then the macarons arrived and made it all better. you may already be familiar with these plump little specimens, from la renaissance up the road. (baroque is their new, upper market venture.) according to their website:

our chefs regularly attend the atelier pierre herme school of patisserie in paris to discover the secrets to the perfect macaron.

darn tootin’. these were perfect. after the initial crack of the shell, the biscuits were moist and yielding. the rose one was filled with delicately perfumed buttercream, and the jasmin one, with its white chocolate ganache, sang clear and true of fragrant white blossoms. paired with a big bottle of local fizzy water, it made a delightful pre-lunch treat. it was only the impending lunch hour which kept me from ordering another one or three.

shortly after twelve, our waitress came back to check how we liked the macarons (uh huh!), and to ask if we would like to move inside for lunch. we had grown accustomed to the great outdoors, so we stayed. and here is what frolicked across the table a short time later: bangalow pork loin, with confit potato, onions, mushrooms, and pine jus. the meat was mostly tender, and the fatty bits not terribly off-putting but for the one mouthful which resisted being chewed and ended up at the edge of the plate. the sauce was rich, and the tumble of accompaniments (note: bonus diced tomatoes and sprigs of cress) most pleasing indeed, even for me, who doesn’t much like pine nuts. a not-too-heavy, not-too-light spring time meal for the last days of the season.

we had been unsure, reading it off the menu, how large a serve $27 would buy you in a fancy bistro on the tourist trek. i would say, perfectly respectable. i would even go as far as to say that the kitchen has finely calibrated the portion size so that you could fit in a dessert after. even after one and a half macarons (though no starter) prior.

ah, beauty on a plate. just look at the demure berries, lined up so primly. do not be fooled: they conceal a lush and seductive pastry cream. there weren’t quite a thousand layers in the pastry sheets of this mille feuilles. shame: they shattered in a most satisfying manner. after they were gone, i kept dabbing at the crumbs with my finger, trying to get every last fragment of the rich caramel flavour. the one let down was that instead of the rose petal ice cream listed in the menu, this raspberry mille feuilles came with a matching quenelle of raspberry sorbet, which melted swiftly into raspberry puddle.

it’s a bit sad, isn’t it, when unannounced substitutions occur? you might have picked a dish purely because you felt like, say, rose petal ice cream. raspberry sorbet is fine and good and all, but maybe the thought of rose petal ice cream was all it took for you to pick this dish over another. no matter. after checking with the attentive and friendly waitress, i am pleased to let you know that baroque bistro will be happy to welcome you any time for just desserts.

next time, i might come by for the passionfruit souffle, or the valrhona chocolate dome. maybe even the crepe of spiced apples. indoors, where it’s air-conditioned, and the ceilings are high, and the beams exposed, and the acrylic chairs pink, and the second-hand smoke from neighbouring tables not an issue. and never again will my mind be sullied by concerns about how fancy a monday luncheon can be…

fade out: internal monologue

fade in: jaunty french accordion music