Fine. My guilty pleasure is the overflowing joy on living a rare high life. Fine dining is one.The frill is not though in the culinary savory but on the parade of intriguing food extravaganza and the stretched patience of learning the "fine and classy" intake of those. With absolute strangeness, one is opted to relish ignorance, wait and observe.
After a series of glances on dinemates and pretense, i finally made my order. To be more like a regular diner, i changed my choice in striving english.
"abbey, id switched my wagyu beef cheek to russian cod fillet." it bottle have been crusted russian cod fillet with black gnocchi and basil cream. But regular diners dont make orders that way.
In truth, im zero cent of my meal. The russian cod and gnocchi made me pick it. The wagyu was more stranger but my regular-diner ploy would be at stake if i dont switch order.
So, a Ceasar salad was served first as appetizer. I know how to eat it but with an added saucepan, i was shaken up to wait and observe again. I let the waiter mixed it instead... just like a regular diner. The syrup on ripe mango shake shook me up too. But i survived. I finally have my first dinner in Oasis - Mandarin Oriental.
Being in a 5-star resto, i should not only behave like a regular but a fine diner. So, i ate less and kept a grunting stomach. I even resisted the sweetest desserts.
Every move was almost exquisite when a senior dinemate had his desserts pouched and forced me to carry it out of the resto.
Damn! Fine dining. Damn!
But heck. with candlelight, jazzy saxophonist playing all our requests, garden oasis and smart talks, fine dining still stands on its brand - fine dinner.
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