Difficult not to be abashed receiving a large whole fish, four veg., rice and curry on a heaped plate, same deal as always — three Sing. dollars. A blush impossible to hide. Dear Lord above, had to be ten at a pinch even at an out of the way, unfashionable street Eatery. (As the reader will recall from a couple of posts ago, some camouflage prudent for the Eatery and the personalities concerned here. And keeping in mind the conversion — approx. seventy cents Australian = $S1.)
It was only when the plate was passed across the counter that the choice Iqbal had made was apparent. A whopper lovely from the deep briny depths.
In small steps to proper
vegetarianism, chicken and beef has been omitted here in Singapore — as Iqbal
well knows. (Being halal there is no pork at this nameless Eatery.) Fish has
been the weakness. Back on the Montenegrin coast fish was allowed on fast days,
the "vegetarian" alternative.
Iqbal well knew the standard order. There was never any need for directions: light-on with the bitter gourd; more of tatters; caulie and greens please. Usually the fish at the nameless Eatery was a small, stout fillet, quite enough with all the rest. Tonight from some unknown holt-hole Iqbal had produced a ten or twelve inch whole fish that needed to be laid diagonally on the plate. The orange-red glazed fishie straddling the beans one side and cabbage the other, staring mouth agape still from its last seizure. As usual the bed of rice was a bit over-done. No surprise there. Proceeding slowly to the table one hand might heft it all with care.
After an apple and nut-bar for lunch in order to remain light for the exertion at the work-table, on this occasion the load was welcome. Still, Gee! Never before had a whole fish been landed at this (necessarily nameless) Eatery. Didn't know they did them. A paprika kind of glaze covering. Taragon perhaps, or curcumin. (All the culinary experts will know, if any such be reading these pages.) Underneath, sweet, soft flesh. But that was once it had been hoicked to the table.
The plate always gets a good looking and estimation here from the other diners seated at their tables. No different on this occasion and an added cause of embarrassment. Who else would get so high a plate without asking specially.
At the counter the plate got eye-balled by Ahmed before anyone else had a chance. Raised an eyebrow.
— Easy does it. The fella can afford it, we can be sure. Out the side of his mouth in Tamil or Bahassa Malay more like to Iqbal.
Iqbal would have none of it. The tone alone sufficient, clear as day.
— Nah. Nah. They're OK these Australzi don't you worry.
Green five, mauve two returned for the red tenner. Easy for Ahmed to see.
In the presence of another customer sometimes Iqbal surreptitiously folds the notes returned. No one is going to tick him off, not even the manager here. Perhaps the big-bear franchisee if he got wind of it. Around at the drinks counter there was a camera mounted beside the till. Strange that there had been an omission here.
Standing to one side, Ahmed could see clearly. (The plate itself might have been made out from across the street.)
Immediately prior Ahmed himself had let a couple of Africans off with five a pop for much less on their plates. Ten for two plates.
While the plates were still sitting on the counter the African had asked how much. Quite likely he would have loaded up with more had not such a high figure been racked up all ready. And these were likely co-religionists.
What was Iqbal thinking? Put his mate to shame for one thing. Abdul usually charges four for a less well stacked plate, let alone a whole fish. The fish alone had to go for five itself any time of day, customer happy to get it.
Not so far as Iqbal was concerned.
Iqbal well knew the standard order. There was never any need for directions: light-on with the bitter gourd; more of tatters; caulie and greens please. Usually the fish at the nameless Eatery was a small, stout fillet, quite enough with all the rest. Tonight from some unknown holt-hole Iqbal had produced a ten or twelve inch whole fish that needed to be laid diagonally on the plate. The orange-red glazed fishie straddling the beans one side and cabbage the other, staring mouth agape still from its last seizure. As usual the bed of rice was a bit over-done. No surprise there. Proceeding slowly to the table one hand might heft it all with care.
After an apple and nut-bar for lunch in order to remain light for the exertion at the work-table, on this occasion the load was welcome. Still, Gee! Never before had a whole fish been landed at this (necessarily nameless) Eatery. Didn't know they did them. A paprika kind of glaze covering. Taragon perhaps, or curcumin. (All the culinary experts will know, if any such be reading these pages.) Underneath, sweet, soft flesh. But that was once it had been hoicked to the table.
The plate always gets a good looking and estimation here from the other diners seated at their tables. No different on this occasion and an added cause of embarrassment. Who else would get so high a plate without asking specially.
At the counter the plate got eye-balled by Ahmed before anyone else had a chance. Raised an eyebrow.
— Easy does it. The fella can afford it, we can be sure. Out the side of his mouth in Tamil or Bahassa Malay more like to Iqbal.
Iqbal would have none of it. The tone alone sufficient, clear as day.
— Nah. Nah. They're OK these Australzi don't you worry.
Green five, mauve two returned for the red tenner. Easy for Ahmed to see.
In the presence of another customer sometimes Iqbal surreptitiously folds the notes returned. No one is going to tick him off, not even the manager here. Perhaps the big-bear franchisee if he got wind of it. Around at the drinks counter there was a camera mounted beside the till. Strange that there had been an omission here.
Standing to one side, Ahmed could see clearly. (The plate itself might have been made out from across the street.)
Immediately prior Ahmed himself had let a couple of Africans off with five a pop for much less on their plates. Ten for two plates.
While the plates were still sitting on the counter the African had asked how much. Quite likely he would have loaded up with more had not such a high figure been racked up all ready. And these were likely co-religionists.
What was Iqbal thinking? Put his mate to shame for one thing. Abdul usually charges four for a less well stacked plate, let alone a whole fish. The fish alone had to go for five itself any time of day, customer happy to get it.
Not so far as Iqbal was concerned.
Is it the newspaper left each night after supper, Sports pages for him and the
main for Faisal for his English learning program? (The latter has been
counseled: just an item or two that interests regularly each day. The Dr. Khan
Paki nuclear benefactor — side-lined briefly for the sake of the
foreign backlash — about to now make a run for head of government. That was
yesterday. Today the prostitution ring in England organized by the south Asian
immigrants. Slow, careful and thorough, with a dictionary. Keep up the vocab.
list. An IELTs test is a waste of money for Faisal at present. Even six months
ahead is too soon.) Iqbal makes do with the EPL photographs and some of the names
of the stars and goal-scorers. The local Malaysian League secondarily. Iqbal is
not dreaming of Australia or Canada. Never could he pass the test for one
thing.
On the basis of that small courtesy of the newspaper giving this concession more than six months now entirely off his own bat? Does not stand to reason. It's not as if a line of communication has been opened with Iqbal. All transactions and interactions on the basis of a dozen shared words. One packet of cigarettes presented (perhaps guessed as the baksheesh he declared, rather than the story of a friend's leaving behind in the hotel). Likely too Iqbal has been informed the Australian has been holed up in a hotel room all by himself, more than eleven months now. Hardly a need of charity. Iqbal makes his own decisions, by his own lights.
The poor African lad had returned to the counter wanting serviettes. The curry makes them essential. Surprised when Iqbal sent him across to the Cheers shop. The guess is the embargo island-wide on serviettes in the street Eateries is a PAP - LKY initiative. On the one hand it keeps the city clean. Give-away tissue would only be blown through the town and clog up the water-ways and drains. At the same time, a little industry created for the ancients, the cripples, the deaf mutes. With a bit of enterprise, sizing up the market, buying in bulk and selling individually (usually three for one dollar), these misfortunates which the government would otherwise need to support, become almost self-sufficient. If some aluminum and cardboard was fossicked on top of that they could live on clover pretty much. As Lansell here is brought to conclude occasionally, there is something to be said for a benevolent dictatorship (dynastic oligarchy more like).
Thank you Iqbal and all the boys. (No hard feelings Ahmed.)
On the basis of that small courtesy of the newspaper giving this concession more than six months now entirely off his own bat? Does not stand to reason. It's not as if a line of communication has been opened with Iqbal. All transactions and interactions on the basis of a dozen shared words. One packet of cigarettes presented (perhaps guessed as the baksheesh he declared, rather than the story of a friend's leaving behind in the hotel). Likely too Iqbal has been informed the Australian has been holed up in a hotel room all by himself, more than eleven months now. Hardly a need of charity. Iqbal makes his own decisions, by his own lights.
The poor African lad had returned to the counter wanting serviettes. The curry makes them essential. Surprised when Iqbal sent him across to the Cheers shop. The guess is the embargo island-wide on serviettes in the street Eateries is a PAP - LKY initiative. On the one hand it keeps the city clean. Give-away tissue would only be blown through the town and clog up the water-ways and drains. At the same time, a little industry created for the ancients, the cripples, the deaf mutes. With a bit of enterprise, sizing up the market, buying in bulk and selling individually (usually three for one dollar), these misfortunates which the government would otherwise need to support, become almost self-sufficient. If some aluminum and cardboard was fossicked on top of that they could live on clover pretty much. As Lansell here is brought to conclude occasionally, there is something to be said for a benevolent dictatorship (dynastic oligarchy more like).
Thank you Iqbal and all the boys. (No hard feelings Ahmed.)
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