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May 8, 2017 | by  | in Food |
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Shed 5

This week’s excursion was to Shed 5 on the waterfront. The exquisite location gives a terrific view of boats we will never own and the opportunity to look down our noses at the passers-by who are not dining at Shed 5; for one night only, in this moment, we are infinite.

As I walked in I had to be careful so as to not loosen the sutures from the kidney that I had to sell to dine here. I was seated in my chair and poured sparkling water by a waiter who came straight outta the Idris Elba School of Being Handsome. I felt as if I had already overstayed my welcome in this establishment and could not afford any more hospitality. There were eight options for the main course and every paragraph that was describing them had about four words I had never heard or seen before. Of course this is a little different to our usual experience, but for the amount of variation in the menu we were content.

I ordered the lamb and I got bread on my table as soon as I had said the words — like I had unlocked this bread from actually committing to something on the menu. Bread game Nintendo. The bread in itself earned its own review. It came with three different dips I never knew existed but all took me on a journey to the wheat fields where this bread was raised and trained. I have just signed a contract to have my body cremated in the oven this bread was cooked in and my ashes scattered on the fields where it came from.

The lamb took up 50% of the space on a reasonably large plate. Looking at the plate I felt disappointed, but I knew the ingredients they had in this dish were so exotic and expensive that the other 50% of the plate was taken up with snob appeal and classism. The lamb was succulent and perfectly cooked, it came with a light gravy, or as the French and therefore all upper-class restaurants say, “Au jus”. French, the language of love, is more appropriate to describe gravy than English, as there is nothing sexier than a good gravy, not even Rodeo burgers. The lamb was seasoned with the tears of a small Mongolian goat that was raised with saffron in every one of its meals, the garlic was imported from a small and peaceful commune in the Himalayas that treats each bulb as a gift from God, and the pepper used was the exact same pepper that Genghis Khan’s family used.

The vegetables came at an extra price which is a bit fucked. I’ve been raised my whole life to believe that vegetables are to go with every meal. To have them now arrive with a price tag makes me feel uneasy; are vegetables now only available for the bourgeoisie? More about the economic dynamics of vegetables at six, back to you, Kii.

I never wanna talk about price when I go to four-star restaurants because I’ll always think about the $10 I could have taken to Capital Market for an Asian stir fry that was three times the size of a meal that cost me $42. However, when you go to these restaurants the price does not dictate the size of the meal, but rather the ingredients and creativity used in the dish. Oh and the flex-ability. I can flex on you with my lamb roast at Shed 5 on a Friday night while you’re cooking up noodles and bread so you got something to vomit up at Steven’s 21st you’re a plus-one at.

Yeah $42 was more than I’d wanna spend on food in an entire week, but does that mean I regret it? Not at all. Why would you even ask that? Why would you even assume I would lay awake the next three nights until 4am thinking about it… god, you’re so mental. I’m not at all insecure enough to be inclined to do this more often in future in order to post it on Instagram every time, and then eat only rice and beans in my room for the next week without my flatmates knowing so I can pay rent. Is me flexing worth four times what I would usually pay for a meal? Ask my instagram and my three new girlfriends. Oh, you don’t get free bread at Aunty Mei? These things pay for themselves bro.

 

You can catch Kii and Tom on SalientFM (88.3) on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays 6.00–8.00pm. Find them on Facebook: “Kii and Tom”.

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