My last Sunday in Singers was spent very well indeedly.
Hedonistic, indulgent, decadent and girly. How could I complain?
We had brunch at Spruce, a gem along Tanglin Road. Snug and hidden amid sizeable (but purposefully sculpted) greenery, Spruce is housed in pretty black-and-white bungalow compounds that harken to the colonial era.
Don’t ask me why I had a Spruce Big Brekkie of scrambled eggs, sausages, sauteed mushrooms and bacon when they will be a dime a dozen in merry old England. Peer pressure, probably. Or visual stimulation.
But it wasn’t a bad option, especially since this anti-pork person actually found the bacon free of its usual soggy patches of stretchy fat. J‘s side order of french toast brioche also came up champs among us fusspots. Crisp thick golden triangles of buttery goodness that surprised with a delicate fluffiness within – what’s not to like?
I sure am going to miss my weekend girlies when I go away. 😦
And whaddaya know? We actually abided by the long-dress rule! Well, at least three of us did. That’s a great statistic for our record.
She loves me!