My first encounter with Copper Chimney was back in 2018, during a family trip to Singapore. After a few days of city-hopping and trying everything from satay to sushi, I was suddenly overcome with a very specific craving: Indian comfort food. That search led us to a warm corner in Little India, where Copper Chimney quietly delivered one of the most satisfying meals of the trip. The dish that won me over then and continues to be my go-to is their Palak Paneer. Now, I’ve had palak paneer at countless places, but there’s something distinctly indulgent about the version here. The spinach is blended to a velvety smooth consistency, rich without being heavy, and carries a gentle garlic-infused aroma that hits you before the first bite. The cubes of paneer are soft yet firm, soaking up all the flavor without falling apart. There’s a careful balance in the spice blend nothing overpowering, just layers of warmth building with each spoonful. Pair it with a freshly baked Garlic Naan, and you’re in for a real treat. The naan here is soft with the right amount of char, and laced generously with chopped garlic and ghee. Tear off a piece, dip it into that green, creamy pool of palak paneer, and you’ll understand why this combination is a non-negotiable order for me.

It’s not every day you see a fast-moving queue in Singapore unless it’s mealtime and the food is worth the wait. That evening, I found myself in one such line, weaving slowly through the bustle of Bugis Junction, drawn by the comforting aroma and reputation of Josh’s Grill, a Western-style diner tucked along the vibrant stretch of Victoria Street. A Warm Welcome with Complimentary Buns and Butter From the get-go, it felt like the kind of place that gets the little things right. No sooner had I been seated than a server placed a basket of warm, fluffy buns on the table, along with a generous dollop of creamy butter. Complimentary, yes, but hardly forgettable. The buns were gently sweet and soft, with just enough weight to hold their own against the rich, salted butter. It was the kind of start that makes you slow down and take notice. Savoring the Fish and Chips For my main, I went with the classic fish and chips—my personal litmus test at any grill. What arrived was a hearty fillet of fish, perfectly encased in a crisp golden batter that shattered at the first bite, revealing moist, flaky fish beneath. The fries, thick-cut and well-seasoned, held up beautifully alongside. Paired with a sharp, creamy tartar sauce, the dish struck a satisfying balance of crunch, flavor, and comfort. I also ordered a side of buttered rice, and it was equally impressive—fluffy, fragrant, and generously coated with just the right amount of butter, making it a comforting complement to the main dish.

After immersing myself in the aromatic world of kopi, I found myself yearning to explore the tea side of Singapore's vibrant beverage scene. Enter Teh Cino, a delightful concoction that marries the robustness of black tea with the creamy sweetness of condensed milk. This drink, often characterized by its visually appealing layers, offers a unique twist to traditional tea preparations. The Art of Teh Cino Teh Cino stands out not just for its taste but also for its presentation. Typically, a glass is filled halfway with condensed milk, topped with a layer of strong black tea, creating a beautiful gradient. The drink can be enjoyed as is, allowing the drinker to experience varying sweetness levels, or stirred to blend the flavors. This method of preparation is reminiscent of the techniques used in crafting Teh Tarik (Read up about my TehTarik Piece here), another beloved local tea, where the beverage is "pulled" to achieve a frothy texture. A Taste Test: Experiencing Teh Cino My first encounter with Teh Cino was at a lively hawker centre nestled in the heart of Singapore. Served in a tall glass, the drink arrived with its signature layered aesthetic—dark tea sitting elegantly atop a pool of condensed milk. One sip in, and I was hooked. The bold, slightly bitter edge of the black tea hit first, quickly softened by the silky sweetness beneath. It was both refreshing and indulgent, making it an ideal pick-me-up for a mid-day pause or a comforting end to a hearty meal.

After a long day at work, I was mentally winding down, already thinking about what to dabao (takeaway) on the way home. That’s when a Slack notification popped up short and cryptic from a coworker: “Dinner now – leaving in 5 – Dan Dan noodles.” Of the three phrases, only “dinner in 5” and “noodles” really registered. That was enough. I quickly hit our team's internal signal to join in (we call it “raising a hand”), and within minutes, seven of us were in the lift, heading down from the 12th floor united by a shared craving and the promise of something delicious. The Journey to Enishi: A Hidden Gem in the City The walk from our office to Enishi wasn’t long, but the anticipation made it feel like a little urban quest. Tucked away on the second floor of International Plaza at 10 Anson Road, #02-85A, it’s the kind of spot you’d miss if you weren’t specifically looking for it, right above Tanjong Pagar MRT, hidden behind an unassuming doorway beside the office tower lifts. First Impressions: A Tokyo Ramen Bar in Singapore

Back in India, Taco Bell was my ultimate go-to for a quick Mexican fix. Whether it was a spontaneous post-class meal or a late-night craving for crunchy tacos and cheesy quesadillas, Taco Bell always delivered (both literally and figuratively). It wasn’t just fast food; it was comfort food—a guilty pleasure that hit all the right notes. Naturally, when I moved to Singapore, I assumed I’d find a Taco Bell somewhere, ready to fill the same void. But to my shock, there was no Taco Bell in sight. I searched malls, scrolled through food delivery apps, and even Googled “Taco Bell Singapore” in a desperate attempt to uncover a hidden branch. The result? Nada. My beloved tacos, burritos, and chalupas were nowhere to be found. I was, to put it mildly, devastated. Taco Bell’s short stint in Singapore during the 1990s ended in disappointment, largely due to pricing that didn’t resonate with the local market. Left without my beloved tacos and chalupas, I set out to fill the void, unknowingly embarking on a culinary detour that would lead me to a new favorite.

Having moved to Singapore to pursue my master’s at NUS, I was brimming with excitement to dive into the local food scene. Among the many culinary treasures I’d read about, one thing stood out—the unique kopitiam culture that’s woven into the fabric of Singaporean life. Yet, as a staunch lover of the classic chai and coffee from back home, I couldn’t help but wonder: could this beloved local brew truly rival the familiar comfort of my favorite cuppa? (Fun fact: If you’re a chai fan too, check out my piece on Naveen Tea House! (WIP)) During my move, I had spotted a humble coffee shop just a few meters from my new apartment—a no-frills kopitiam bustling with locals. I made a mental note to try it as soon as I settled in. For me, trying something as fundamental as a cup of coffee felt oddly significant—it wasn’t just about the drink; it was about setting the tone for my food exploration in the Lion City. Call me dramatic, but I was convinced that a single cup of kopi could either fuel my excitement or leave me pining for home. (And yes, this was only my second week in Singapore!)