I was astonished to learn that the man hadn't been to Quentin's Eurasian Restaurant. WHUT. How is that possible?! Had to rectify that. Now that Damian D'Silva's Immigrants Gastrobar has closed, there're even fewer choices of sampling Eurasian dishes at restaurants. Besides ours and the friends' grandparents' kitchens, Quentin's serves the better commercial versions of Eurasian curries.
Luckily there were three of us that evening. It's not possible to eat at Quentin's if it's just the two persons with tiny stomachs. I haven't visited Quentin's for a long time. Good to know that the keluak curry chicken tasted just as good as I remembered. The kitchen didn't stinge on the buah keluak and packed them full and bitter. Mmmm. There was also curry Debal with oxtail, corned beef fried rice, chap chye (of which I much prefer it over the Peranakan version), and squid in black ink. The dishes were all wonderful. Beautiful ratio of spices. Asked for an additional plate of sambal belachan too. The earlier intent for a light dinner didn't translate into reality.
I cleverly avoided most of the meat, and stuck to eating a fair bit of rice with truckloads of curries. With a final order of chendol and a complimentary red velvet cake, dinner for three came up to a ridiculous amount of food. UGH. No regrets. Rolled out of the restaurant all stuffed. Seizing the first clear night of under-90-low-PSI and PM2.5, and ignoring my newly-colored hair, I went for 20 quick laps in the pool. Had no wish to suffer indigestion again.