Now that the temperature is down to the 50s again in New York, all I can think about is breakfast in Singapore.
I can practically smell the curries. And the tameepok prawn and pork noodles topped with sliced, super-hot chilis. And the starchy "carrot cake" (actually made of radishes) with heaps of crimson chili paste mixed in. And the…
File this under the "you always want what you can't have" category: growing up in Singapore, I coveted big American breakfasts. Those pictures of Grand Slams at Denny's restaurants showing plates of towering pancakes, bacon and sunny-looking eggs would inspire great yearning in my stomach.
And yet the moment I set foot in the land of massive, sausage-and-pancake breakfasts, all I could think of was the roti pratas and tameepoks I'd left behind.