Dim Sum Detective : The Affair of the Missing Fishball

Unavoidably woken up at some ungodly hour by an emergency call, all I could think after I'd effectively dealt with that case was MEAT.

Seriously. Hot sinfully delicious meat - and since I didn't need to dial-up some crotchety old man for some gruff sex talk or depend on downloaded gay porn anymore with the availability of Charming Calvin, I made for his cosy pied-a-terre as soon as I was done, surprising him bleary and half-awake at his doorstep. More than a little bashful at the sudden brash intrusion and balking at my testosterone-and-caffeine-fueled ardour, poor Calvin was utterly non-plussed but gave in easily to my advances after little persuasion.

The man knew what I wanted and it didn't take much to have him talking. Which is how we ended up together searching every available nook and cranny along the highways and the byways for this. 點心. Or more commonly known as dim sum of course.


The mystery is afoot
Although the man cried out under my wicked methods of torture that he didn't know of any depraved hives of dim sum activity, I knew that there had to be one somewhere close. Since Calvin lived in what I'd recently termed Ah Beng Central, it was impossible to imagine that the mini chinatown enclave didn't have a single joint capable of seating gangs of bored retired uncles in their beat-up singlets and shorts and the desperate housewives set after their regular morning marketing. And let's face it, where else could the nefarious ah bengs go after their late night intrigues - peddling pirated booty, maiming unfortunate victims and shagging indiscriminate ah lians?

After taking a slow drive around the unsavoury neighbourhood, the scent of hot tea, steaming century egg porridge and fragrant steamed pork dumplings immediately drew us close to the notorious dim sum dealers and it wasn't long before we were willingly sucked into the decadent pleasures of the meat. Previously an occasional salad-nibbler, poor Calvin has had to adapt quickly to my voracious ( and frequently depraved ) carnivorous appetites. Ever the good Hakka boy though, Calvin struggled his way through some heavy lotus leaf rice while I - unburdened with his genes - dug in several plates of siu maai and pork ribs with much gusto.

Have always loved going for dim sum in the morning - nothing like just being deliberately lazy whiling away the time with the sunday papers and nibbling little bits of delicate pastry while waiting for the hot tea to cool.

If only I could get up that early during most weekends of course. :)