From his balcony in River Valley, Master of Wine Richard Hemming watches Singapore explain itself through a single tree. ‘One canopy, twelve species,’ he writes in his Meanwhile In Singapore Substack. Hemming left Surbiton nearly seven years ago for this island; the view below has become daily proof the exchange was worth it. The tree reads as a compressed Singapore, many origins growing upward together.
You understand this quickest by eating. Sometimes seated, sometimes standing, sometimes returning days later for the same thing. A plastic stool at noon, a tasting menu at night. A mosque and a temple sit steps from hawker tables. Heat and timing matter, whether they come from a roaring wok or a kitchen where plates arrive one by one, shaped as art.
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