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Friday, February 17, 2006
Fear factor
"Hey you three," my boss calls out to us. "We're short of people for this event at a hotel. So you have to leave early, dress nicely, and go for it. GM's directive."
"What??" one of my other designer colleagues exclaimed. "But....but....we don't have any proper clothes to wear! And why do we have to go anyway?"
The boss sighed. "The person in charge of the event wants ten people from our company at the event," he explained.
For those not in the know, our company employs about fifteen people. That quota basically took up two thirds.
"We don't have much of a choice," he continued. "We'll let you go home early to change. It's a formal event, so you have to look presentable. Wear a dress or something."
"Grreeeatttt. I left all those back in my hometown," the other designer grumbled. "That's two hours away."
I flashed a wicked grin. "We'll go if you sponsor those dresses for us," I said.
The boss shoots me a dirty look. "Fine, just wear something, as long as it looks good enough it should be ok. Just tell them you're journalists, they'll understand."
Drat. So much for a getting a free dress.
Due to some unforseen circumstances (to me, anyway), we arrive late for the event. In fact, we arrived just when they start serving the first course. We were all too petrified to go in, so one of us made one of the editors come out to show us to our seats. The moment I stepped into the ballroom I started panicking. Almost everyone was dressed in suits and ties. Our company of people was apparently split into two tables, so the three of us had to sit on a table with two of our other colleagues, the rest of which were strangers to us.
I sat down, and glanced at the people sitting at the same table whom I didn't know. They stared back at me. I couldn't take it. I gave my colleague sitting next to me a pitiful look that said all of "HELP MEEEEE!!!"
He laughed. "Don't worry, just enjoy the dinner. After all, it's free food." Then he lowers his voice and whispers, "but to be honest, the food's weird."
Uh oh.
"What food is it?" I ask him.
He hands me the menu. "Umm," he looks puzzled. "I don't really know. Just look at the menu."
I take a look. Parmesan 'taco' with Woodside goats curd, golden beetroot, white asparagus, baby herbs and apple balsamic caramel. Didn't sound too bad. I looked at the plate in front of me. Two spindly stalks of asparagus was arranged in a parallel manner on the plate, with a small piece of taco which looks like it has some sort of vegetable stuffed into it in the middle of the asparagus, and four tiny round balls and fruit arranged each in one corner. A bit sparse, but my stomach was growling. I cut a piece and put it into my mouth.
It tasted......weird. But still, I was hungry, and it wasn't too bad, so I ate most of it. Little did I know that was a glimpse of things to come.
The second course, according to the menu, was foiegras and truffle terrine with a black fig tart tatin, potato galette and summer truffle oil. Huh? I had no idea what the hell all that was. Except the foiegras, which is goose liver. I took a bite of the foiegras before promptly attempting to wash it down with wine. Bad idea. Foiegras + white wine = no no. It made it WORSE. I downed huge amounts of water instead, before handing my foiegras over to another one of my colleagues, who seemed to be enjoying it. Some time later my boss came around and asked if we ate the foiegras. We had all passed ours to the same person. Our boss nicely informed us that the tiny piece we ate was worth about RM100 apiece, maybe more. Oh. My. God.
By now we were growing wary of the food, and when the third course came it became clear that it wasn't going to get any better. It was scallop carpaccio, lobster and saffron jelly with white tomato and champagne sorbet, osteria caviar and finger limes. What I saw on the plate was this smooth white flat base, with some brown jelly-like thing on top and a scoop of sorbet on top of that. The smooth white base tasted raw. Which was fine, because it tasted like sushi. Then I bit into the jelly and cringed. It was the saltiest thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I took two more bites out of that before I gave up and decided to attack the small bun they had put aside on the table. I swear, bread has never tasted so good.
"We don't even need to get onto Fear Factor," my colleague mumbled.
By this time, everyone was swearing that they were going to the nearest mamak stall after the dinner was over. So when they announced that the fourth course was lamb, there was a huge sigh of relief from everyone attending the event. Finally, something edible! The lamb was rare, but very good, and thankfully the dessert (meringue) was alright, even if it was a tad too sweet.
The next morning the boss saunters over with a grin plastered on his face. "So, how did you enjoy the event?" he asked us.
Cue endless bitching about the food.
"I'm never going. Ever. Again," my colleague swears.
I wholeheartedly agree. Fine dining is just not for plebeians like us.
"What??" one of my other designer colleagues exclaimed. "But....but....we don't have any proper clothes to wear! And why do we have to go anyway?"
The boss sighed. "The person in charge of the event wants ten people from our company at the event," he explained.
For those not in the know, our company employs about fifteen people. That quota basically took up two thirds.
"We don't have much of a choice," he continued. "We'll let you go home early to change. It's a formal event, so you have to look presentable. Wear a dress or something."
"Grreeeatttt. I left all those back in my hometown," the other designer grumbled. "That's two hours away."
I flashed a wicked grin. "We'll go if you sponsor those dresses for us," I said.
The boss shoots me a dirty look. "Fine, just wear something, as long as it looks good enough it should be ok. Just tell them you're journalists, they'll understand."
Drat. So much for a getting a free dress.
Due to some unforseen circumstances (to me, anyway), we arrive late for the event. In fact, we arrived just when they start serving the first course. We were all too petrified to go in, so one of us made one of the editors come out to show us to our seats. The moment I stepped into the ballroom I started panicking. Almost everyone was dressed in suits and ties. Our company of people was apparently split into two tables, so the three of us had to sit on a table with two of our other colleagues, the rest of which were strangers to us.
I sat down, and glanced at the people sitting at the same table whom I didn't know. They stared back at me. I couldn't take it. I gave my colleague sitting next to me a pitiful look that said all of "HELP MEEEEE!!!"
He laughed. "Don't worry, just enjoy the dinner. After all, it's free food." Then he lowers his voice and whispers, "but to be honest, the food's weird."
Uh oh.
"What food is it?" I ask him.
He hands me the menu. "Umm," he looks puzzled. "I don't really know. Just look at the menu."
I take a look. Parmesan 'taco' with Woodside goats curd, golden beetroot, white asparagus, baby herbs and apple balsamic caramel. Didn't sound too bad. I looked at the plate in front of me. Two spindly stalks of asparagus was arranged in a parallel manner on the plate, with a small piece of taco which looks like it has some sort of vegetable stuffed into it in the middle of the asparagus, and four tiny round balls and fruit arranged each in one corner. A bit sparse, but my stomach was growling. I cut a piece and put it into my mouth.
It tasted......weird. But still, I was hungry, and it wasn't too bad, so I ate most of it. Little did I know that was a glimpse of things to come.
The second course, according to the menu, was foiegras and truffle terrine with a black fig tart tatin, potato galette and summer truffle oil. Huh? I had no idea what the hell all that was. Except the foiegras, which is goose liver. I took a bite of the foiegras before promptly attempting to wash it down with wine. Bad idea. Foiegras + white wine = no no. It made it WORSE. I downed huge amounts of water instead, before handing my foiegras over to another one of my colleagues, who seemed to be enjoying it. Some time later my boss came around and asked if we ate the foiegras. We had all passed ours to the same person. Our boss nicely informed us that the tiny piece we ate was worth about RM100 apiece, maybe more. Oh. My. God.
By now we were growing wary of the food, and when the third course came it became clear that it wasn't going to get any better. It was scallop carpaccio, lobster and saffron jelly with white tomato and champagne sorbet, osteria caviar and finger limes. What I saw on the plate was this smooth white flat base, with some brown jelly-like thing on top and a scoop of sorbet on top of that. The smooth white base tasted raw. Which was fine, because it tasted like sushi. Then I bit into the jelly and cringed. It was the saltiest thing I have ever tasted in my entire life. I took two more bites out of that before I gave up and decided to attack the small bun they had put aside on the table. I swear, bread has never tasted so good.
"We don't even need to get onto Fear Factor," my colleague mumbled.
By this time, everyone was swearing that they were going to the nearest mamak stall after the dinner was over. So when they announced that the fourth course was lamb, there was a huge sigh of relief from everyone attending the event. Finally, something edible! The lamb was rare, but very good, and thankfully the dessert (meringue) was alright, even if it was a tad too sweet.
The next morning the boss saunters over with a grin plastered on his face. "So, how did you enjoy the event?" he asked us.
Cue endless bitching about the food.
"I'm never going. Ever. Again," my colleague swears.
I wholeheartedly agree. Fine dining is just not for plebeians like us.
Published by: whiterabbit # 2/17/2006 01:12:00 am 
