Sarah Teh
The day heat lifts slowly here. By the time I reach Newton Food Centre, the sun has gone and the light has changed hands. No longer the flat white of afternoon. Now it comes from the stalls themselves, bulb by bulb, a row of small fires holding back the dark along Clemenceau Avenue North. Newton…
The grill was the brightest thing in the room, and that was the problem. It was past eleven at Fengshan Market & Food Centre, and I had been standing near Chan BBQ for a while, camera down, watching the uncle work the coals. He moved without hurry. A pair of tongs in one hand, a…
Orchard Road lets go of its crowds slowly. By the time I reached Cuppage Plaza B1 28, the shopping stretch behind me had thinned to a few late walkers and the low hum of traffic sliding past shuttered windows. The bright malls were already dimming. The night was settling in the way it does here,…
The smoke found me before the food did. It was close to midnight at Bedok 85, and I had been standing at Chomp Chomp BBQ for a while, camera down, letting my eyes settle. The uncle worked the grill with his back half turned to the crowd, a pair of tongs in one hand, the…
Orchard Road empties from the top down. By a quarter to midnight, storefronts have started pulling their shutters, glass gone dark over displays that glowed all day. Escalators still run. A few people drift toward the Somerset MRT with shopping bags softened at the handles, while red tail lights smear across the wet glass outside.…
Finding Apollon AM-Bar on the First Floor The first floor of Orchard Plaza’s dining oasis is quiet in that way old shopping centres go quiet at night. The bright shops of Orchard Road felt far away by the time I found unit #01-29. Inside, there isn’t much room. A counter, a handful of seats, staff…
The pot never stopped moving. It was near midnight at Bedok 85, and I had been standing at Seng Hiang for a while, doing more watching than shooting. The auntie worked the noodles in a wire basket, dipping them into the boiling water, lifting, shaking off the drops in three quick beats. She did not…
It’s past eight, and the lingering heat warms the pavement. A grill flares beneath bare bulbs, smoke rising as a vendor fans the coals. Satay skewers sizzle, coins exchange hands, and the queue shifts, a fleeting moment in the vibrant night market in Singapore. Most visitors miss this dynamic scene. They arrive ready to photograph…
The steam came up in one thin ribbon, and I almost missed it. It was near eleven at Bedok 85, and I had been standing at Xing Ji Rou Cuo Mian for a while, watching more than shooting. The uncle worked the noodles in a wire basket, dunking them into the boiling water, lifting, shaking…
The malls close first. Restaurants dim their lights behind glass, chairs are stacked, and the daytime shopping crowds begin to leave Orchard Road. Somerset, which spends most of the day moving between lunch queues and retail floors, quietly becomes something else. I walk the streets around Somerset MRT Station with a camera after dark: down…