There was a weekend when Mr H was busy with work and I took care of the boys 70% of the time. 30% was the time that Mr H carved out to ensure he still spent time with the boys. How lucky these kids were!
At the party
We were at Fidgets and it was a pleasant day to be there. It was not crowded, the food was great and company was great. X also had a ball of a time literally at the ball pit and mastering the tall slides, with Z’s aid. I did think X took a very long time to warm up in a foreign environment. In Z’s time, he was running around on his own and did not need to be coddled by an older boy. The presence of an older sibling really changed the growing up years and shaped the character.
After overplaying at Fidgets, I had 2 cranky and hungry kids on hand. They chose either pasta or chicken rice. I had thought of buying from Da Paolo. Imagine my disappointment to find that they had closed.
I bought roast pork belly from Keith’s Crackling Roast and was a tad disappointed that it was not as good as before.
What was more disappointing was this bowl of salty pasta from the only pasta seller at Pasar Bella as of the point we visited. Many shops had closed and I could imagine why. The environment was stale, smoky and smelly.
The super salty Bacon and Mushroom pasta at $13.90
I had bought this for the boys to share. It wasn’t till later that the boys complained it was too salty to eat. I gave feedback to the stall. Immediately, the chef threw the pasta back to the pan. When I asked what was happening, the staff said the chef (she) was making it less salty. When I probed further, the irate chef turned around and asked me, “Do you want to do it yourself?”
Erm. What should I make of the service and response?
It did not get less saltier. I asked Z to bring it back and I followed up after placating X. I was alone with 2 young kids after all. I was informed that the chef had started on a fresh batch. I mean, we could have changed for another pasta or pizza. Evidently, you could look at the amount of pasta left and figured out that the dish was hardly touched.
In any case, she started on a new batch. She asked me to taste if it was salty (which it was but not as super salty), I gave up. When asked to try her own cooking, the chef replied, “I have a high threshold for salt.”
We would never be eating at Pasarbella for sure. The dip in quality, the terrible environment and experiencing such an encounter left a literal bad taste. Next time, I would walk the extra meters to go to the other wing of Turf City. They served way better food, even Fidgets had better pasta. Wished I ate at Fidgets instead.
Of course I didn’t let this mar our weekend but