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2020-10-26
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We went as a family of six adults with two children between the ages of 3 and 6. It was a celebration and because my in-laws had been to this establishment in the 80's, they thought it would be nice to try it out again and particularly because they had vivid memories of the grilled prawns that were huge in size.This restaurant is situated along a main road so it's quite straightforward to get to; no problems there. The restaurant itself is clean and spartan; I mean it proudly shows off it's simp
This restaurant is situated along a main road so it's quite straightforward to get to; no problems there. The restaurant itself is clean and spartan; I mean it proudly shows off it's simple decor that wouldn't be amiss from an upgrade of a lick of paint and a huge Chinese character of "Bull" in gold paint on one side of the wall. More of this "Bull" later.
We ordered the set meal for eight human adults. Note that it's for EIGHT. HUMAN. ADULTS. Yet we were a contingent of six adults and two children whose ages I just gave, so we were quietly confident that this $5xxx+ set meal (with service charge included, because come on, we're in a pandemic and NOT in a recession, you plebs) would satisfy our bourgeois fake French- Vietnamese cuisine cravings and then some.
I had no inclination to take pictures of the menu and of the food for your pleasure because simply put, hundreds of people past, present (plus future) fancy themselves as a photographer extraordinaire and have no doubt taken thousands of pictures of the same dishes without a care to the world before uploading theirs to this app. I leave the power of your imagination to fill in the gaps to what we were served and only mention that the aforementioned pictures relating to this restaurant was an exact representation to what we received-but with a certain caveat...
First course was some sort of meat (I'm guessing it was duck) placed lovingly on top of a prawn cracker with Japanese slivers of picked ginger and a piece of tinned pineapple (I have no clue where this French Vietnamese concoction originated from, but I'm almost certain that this Frankenstein WASN'T half thought up and executed by some bored chef with some Lidl cans of pineapple and some picked ginger that he found lying about in Hong Kong in Tsim Sha Tsui) as well as some crisp spring rolls (but made with rice paper instead of spring roll wrap) cut in half so that each human could savour his or her 4cm rice roll with a delectable lettuce leaf freshly plucked from the bosom of a Wellcome bag.
Oh, and there was a circle of mystery Vietnamese sausage meat cut four ways thoughtfully plonked along with the Hors d'oeuvre.
Classy.
Oil fried chicken came out not too soon after the first course/starter/ what the heck did I just eat on this prawn cracker? And it was OK. Not bad, but I won't be writing a letter to Jollibee telling them to watch their backs from some "French- Vietnamese/ Chinese cuisine" anytime soon.
The next dish was the soup of pumpkin with crabmeat and vermicelli mixed in. It was quite nice because the waitress (not maitre D) asked if I wanted alcohol put into it. Being a rather refined eater (plus heavens knows I needed the alcohol to get me through the night), I readily accepted and quaffed the alcohol-laced soup with gusto before meeting my next course (and nemesis).
The third course was said prawn. And what a prawn! My bourgois mind went into overdrive at said beast of the sea and it was cooked alright. A bit of butter, a tiny amount of garlic so subtle that your date with Dracula will breathe (does he breathe? He is the king of the undead after all) a sigh of relief. Honestly, it was a good bit of prawn and that's my highlight of the meal for you.
For the fourth and main course- if you could call it that, we had two little clay pots with curry and some tiny pieces of tendon with 3 pieces of the smallest brisket/beef that a nouvelle French chef would be proud of. Honestly, we all laughed when we ate it with our one basket of buttered French stick and another basket of plain French stick thinking it was a joke. But no! The course had one more gag up its sleeve; we had the best plate of mushrooms you ever did see in all this finest land AND they put a tablespoon of what I can only guess at as being some sort of black truffle sauce you get when you go to Prize mart and come out with a one kilo "Black truffle" sauce in a jar. Yeah. That.
What? You thought I was taking a break from writing about the other main dishes? Don't be silly! That's it, you fool; one little basket of French stick, one little basket of French stick with some butter, two little clay pots of curry, sauce, tendon and two small plates of mushroom and truffle. FOR EIGHT HUMANS.
They ran out of desserts, apparently and we had no choice but to siphon green bean sweet soup.
My bourgeois side completely satisfied, I will never go back to this establishment again. Gold Bull? Gold Bull sheet, more like!
Please come to this restaurant if you want to know what regret tastes like at a premium where the waitresses try and make it seem like its upper fine dining but the reality is that they were hired for their low wages and one of them actually argued (when my brother-in-law asked why one side of the table was given plain bread the other side was given buttered and I swear, on my mum's eyes that the waitress said and I quote) "...that the plain bread was French bread and the other basket was buttered..."
... it's been two hours since I left the joint and I haven't a clue what she means still. I smell... bull sheet.
Come for the laughs and marvel at how light your wallet will be while enduring a torrid night of culinary Bulls**t.
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