lioness in japan

One of my favourite parts of this home visit was a barbecue dinner at Piers and Jo’s in Upper East Coast. We met them in Tokyo and have hung out occasionally — we even went camping at a lake near Mount Fuji.

Unfortunately they moved back to Singers because of a great job opportunity, but we see them once in awhile when we are back here.

They have an unrelenting mission to convert the kangaroo into a true blue Singaporean by baiting him with smelly durians. Although it is unlikely that the kangaroo will love our pungent delicacy, he still slept in the same bed as me after the ordeal of watching us devour what he coins “garlic mixed with dirt”.

As I am in a hurry to get to the airport, this entry will be a pictorial of our evening.

Piers is British but appreciates durian. However he believes it’s because he has a weak sense of smell and never picks up bad odours. Anyway, he sure knows how to open a durian.

Ahh…. The flesh of the legendary XO durian…. It was creamy and moist while exuding thick wafts of durianess…

I love eating the pointy-shaped ones — a habit I’ve had since I was a kid.

Another star of the evening was the barbecued duck. It was roasted well and oozed of savoury meatiness.

They have a sprawling garden and it reflects their love for nature.

A blow up pool for their kids was also part of their backyard. It’s a cheap, ingenious playground for their two energetic boys.

The final highlight of the evening was their very own homemade cheese. On top of growing herbs in their garden, cheese-making was another endeavour they thought would be a scream. Jo put a carton of unopened milk in the garden for two weeks until it fermented to its cheesy state.

They put the contents into a sock and added herbs and waited for another few days. Finally it was ready and offered to us on a dare. I was grossed out but since one of their boys tried it and nothing happened to him, I gave it go with a cracker. It tasted plasticky and pungent, which made me not want to take another bite. But it was an adventure in itself — sort of like eating puffer fish where the fear of unknown poison is a thrill in itself.

Related posts:

1. Old friends, nostalgic nosh
2. Our little garden
3. Da Isa: Straight-up, no-nonsense Italian cooking

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