Darryl assures me that this coffee house serves the best stingray in all Singapore. I trust the boys judgement, even though he looks twelve. Our journey from Raffles Place to Jurong East involves the MRT, wait for a car, rush hour traffic on one of the abbreviated expressways and loss of orientation due to hunger. Fishball soup with the spongiest fishballs I've ever sampled and some an introduction to popiah (turnip, nut and something spring roll type things that aren't fried and a bit strange to the palate the first time around, but it grows on you), sates our urgent hunger and we await our raison d'etre. My conscience frowns as it finger waggles me, and I guiltily remember the way the felt in my arms, the strength of their supple bodies, the smooth, taut skin, the fluttering shyness and the insistent nudging to be fed. I murmur something about not being able to eat them as it just wouldn't be right, but am reminded of my "I'll eat anything once" motto. When it arrives at the table, my waver quotient shoots up and I'm soon surrounded by oooohs and aaaaahs. I contemplatively chew on a piece of popiah, pondering my strategy. A deep sigh propels my chopsticks towards the sambal covered flesh and I lift off a piece and pop it into my mouth. The sambal is outstanding, the fish meaty and I send up a silent apology to the gods of stingrays. Delicious. That now needs to be my credo. I'll try it the once, but I will not turn into a true Asian, bent on eating various species of fish out of existence. Besides, it's all about the chilli anyway apparently.....
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