"No, sorry, we are not THAT Crazy Angmo who owned a western food stall in Bishan". "No, The Crazy Angmo has not reopened for business."
I would like to emphasize that this is not a food blog.
These are just some of my replies to some messages that I had been receiving via Facebook from strangers as well as friends who had asked if we were the same people behind The Crazy Angmo. The Crazy Angmo, incidentally, was the name of a western food stall that was located at Bishan, but had closed down since. For a start, The Crazy Angmo was owned by an Australian named Paul Crinis. My crazy angmo is a Scot. "Same same but different," I replied to one of these messages.
In fact, I had not realized there was indeed another " Crazy Angmo". A quick search on google after the first message from a stranger appeared in my inbox confirmed this. Thankfully, the photos of the other "Crazy Angmo" depicted someone skinnier, fairly pastier, dark haired and definitely bore no resemblance to mine. That Crazy Angmo was Paul Crinis, formerly a tennis coach who had worked in Singapore.
For what it's worth, Paul Crinis had decided then, that beyond his talent as a tennis player, he had wanted to share his Australian culinary delights with Singaporeans by setting up a western food stall in the heartlands. Yes, he was crazy enough. Any semblance of western food to my fellow Singaporeans is Chicken Chop, much like Sweet and Sour Pork is to our Western friends. Today, I am still trying to figure out which part of the chicken is its chops.
David and I did toy with the idea of setting up a "healthier food deli" a long time ago. Now, that would have been crazy. For one, David and I cannot bear testament to the food we would have served. A healthy drink to us, is a Vodka Orange for whatever vitamin C it had with the inclusion of the orange. If David and I were to set up a Western food stall, we would have ended up eating everything that we could have sold for the day instead. Or worse, we might be hauled away and locked up by the food health authority for serving Haggis. So we canned that crazy idea.
Nevertheless, while pouring through various food blogs that had done reviews of The Crazy Angmo then, I came across mentions of many equally crazy angmos who had also set up food stalls in the heartlands too. One sold German sausages, one sold French food, another sold pizza and pasta, and yet another sold Belgian waffles. I am not sure if these stalls are still around but Botak Jones definitely is. I don't think anyone can be crazier than Botak Jones' owner Bernie Utchenick. I have known Bernie since he had opened a jazz bar at Boat Quay years ago. It was a frequent hangout for my friend and ex-boss LJ and I who had spent many wonderful nights dancing to the beautiful music played by O.D. and his band. Then Bernie opened a restaurant at East Coast Park which was yet again another frequent hangout for my rugby team mates and I. I know Bernie had as many failed businesses as he had successful ones and I applaud him for his "crazy" courage. I am so glad for Bernie, that Botak Jones has mushroomed into many outlets dotted across our little island and Bernie has also finally become a Singaporean. Not quite a crazy angmo after all.
When I started this blog, I searched in my mind for a blog name that attempted a near accurate description of who I was as the writer. And because the blog was about my observations of the comedy that surrounded my life, that near accurate description, I felt, had to include David.
If you had read my first blog entry, you would have remembered that the phrase "crazy angmo" was coined by the neighbors when little old ladies or children within the estate pointed to an unfamiliar sight of a pasty-white, burly blonde bloke that is my husband and calls out "chee sin angmo" or "crazy angmo". This was not confined to the heartlands, I can assure you. When we were living in a townhouse sharing a swimming pool within the estate, nosy kids literally pressed their noses against their windows while staring at David floating in the bird-bath sized pool looking like a polar bear exhibit. They would continue to do so until their mothers yanked them by the ears from behind the curtains, muttering "chee sin angmo".
So, I gave birth to "the crazy angmo and his angry wife" as a snazzy way to capture the comedic life of the Ash Family. I want to re-emphasize that it is not a food blog.
Anyhow, with all the research I did about the crazy angmos who had opened their food stalls in the heartlands, I made a mental note to find an angmo food stall personally run by a fellow crazy angmo to have dinner at.
However, don't ask me to write a food review, as this clearly isn't a food blog.