For anyone from the West who has not yet traveled to Asia, Singapore is a good starting point. Call it “Asia lite”—a cultural sampler in a clean and safe environment where nearly everyone you meet likely speaks English. The population of 5.6 million fills an island city-state slightly smaller than the five boroughs of New York City. Their numbers, in descending order, include Singaporeans are ethnic Chinese, Malays, Indians, and Eurasians. They are Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, Taoists, and Hindus, and a robust percentage are none-of-the-above.
The island is famously spotless, filled with new office and apartment towers that replace the barely old with the regularity of a new season’s cornstalks. It is conspicuously prosperous: If you are in need of Prada, you are never far from one of the brand’s five boutiques. As in Switzerland, you may get the vague impression your restaurant’s maitre d’hotel is richer than you are.
I arrived on this, my first, visit for an international legal conference. The initial good news was that taxis are inexpensive: I paid less to come in from the airport than I would have to go a couple miles across town in Manhattan, where I live. The second good news was that, because I had troubled myself to join the Leaders Club (admission is free) of The Leading Hotels of the World, I was upgraded at the scrupulously refined Capital Kempinski to a room with a terrace with outdoor seating. My firm got the benefit of having me centrally located at a hotel to which I willingly brought many guests for meals, drinks and tea—and I got that terrace for morning espresso from my Nespresso machine and after-work fine in-room dining.
Although business travel anywhere can be to travel as elevator music is to music, Singapore keeps worthy diversions within arm’s reach. I got in some quality time by focusing on the divergent artisanal crafts of the island, starting on the day of my arrival with an obvious initial destination for a fashion lawyer: a good tailor.
Smartly Cut
Jackson Yeo, clever, trim and convivial, spent about a decade in the corporate world before lighting out on his own, first to retail Italian shoes, soon to expand his business, Yeossal & Co., into classic tailored men’s clothing and accessories. From his small upstairs showroom in a complex outside the city center, he crafts fine made-to-measure garments for customers worldwide. He is known for his polo shirts topped by sophisticated one-piece kai collars—for a bit of casual refinement. I came, however, for one of his other specialties, a classic now back in vogue: Gurkha trousers. They were adopted long ago by the British Army from garments worn by the warrior ancestors of the Nepalese soldiers (Gurkhas) who, to this day, serve in its elite Brigade of Gurkhas. The trousers can be easily identified by their high and continuous waistband (which requires skill to make correctly) and pleated fronts.
I was measured by the tailoring specialist Akira, who took down every one of my imperfect dimensions, his tape expertly circumnavigating my modest frame several times over.
When I explained that, with trousers by Kiton and Isaia, I was a 32-inch waist but that in Uniqlo I was a size 31, he gave me that patient, knowing look of tailors everywhere as he replied, with studied offhandedness. “Those are vanity measurements, sir,“ he said. ”You’re a 33 pushing to a 34.”
Jackson diverted me from that cold reality to the selection of cloth from books of swatches. I chose an Italian linen in muted brown for one pair and British cotton in forest green for the other: soldierly colors for pants with a military heritage. The completed order will be made locally and delivered to me within weeks. The price for these made-to-measure pants came to about what I would have expected to pay for off-the-rack Gurkha trousers in Manhattan.
Teatime
“This is the one part of serving tea that the British got right,” said Charlene Low as she warmed the teapot and cups with boiling water before brewing. A small group from my large conference had come on a very capacious bus to Yixing Xuan Teahouse in Chinatown to observe and enjoy the craft of preparing tea the Chinese way. “Our tea ceremony is more informal than the Japanese tea ceremony,” explained Low, a former banker who had taken over the business from her father. “The Chinese ceremony is shorter, less formal, and is all about sharing tea with others.”
From an open kitchen in the rear of her bright and tasteful shop, she demonstrated that the tea is brewed for only 30 seconds in what look like dollhouse-size teapots made of porous “purple clay” (Zisha) that, over time, will absorb and ultimately contribute to the flavors of the teas it serves. Low’s mandate for tasting: inhale, sip, and please, no milk! She poured for us small cups of several favorite Chinese varieties, the cultivating and serving of each of which she carefully explained. I am a serious tea drinker, but I could not recall being served anything better. I bought for myself a Zisha pot, two matching cups and her house tea, the “Beauty of the East,” an aromatic oolong from Taiwan, where some of the best oolongs are produced.
A Stronger Brew
As a German national myself, I agree with the notion that it takes a German to know beer. That maxim is surely why a law firm based in Bavaria held a large and festive gathering at LeVeL 33, a pub wrapped around a brewery billed as the highest (33 stories up) in a building anywhere in the world. Gabriel Garcia, the bearded, Argentine-born brewmaster, took a cluster of us on a tour of the rowed copper vats that stood like missile silos to our rear.
Garcia held out a bottle of beer in a Champagne-like bottle. “This is our newest project,” he said with obvious pride. “We’re working to make a beer using Champagne methods, with the goal of having the world’s first beer that tastes somewhat like Champagne.
Meanwhile, we got a letter from the Champagne association saying we cannot call it that. We now say it is ‘brut beer.’” Holding up the flashlight on his phone, Garcia showed us the sediment collected at the neck of the bottle by the process of riddling, the rotation of the bottle, neck down, that is part of the traditional methode champenoise.
Another German guest and I discussed that, and he bought us glasses of the curious new beer for a taste test. Our verdict: a sophisticated brew, more bubbly than we might otherwise have expected and a bit more flavorful than most conventional beers — but it definitely tasted like beer.
Stronger Still
The next day, there was nearly a one-hour wait to get into the Long Bar at Raffles Hotel, which is not uncommon. The bar serves a large variety of drinks, but almost everyone was here for the same thing: a Singapore Sling, or any number of them. The cocktail was invented at the turn of the 20th century by a Raffles bartender, Ngiam Tong Boon.
In the steps along the way to make a Singapore Sling, into the mixture go gin, cherry brandy, Cointreau liqueur, Benedictine, grenadine, pineapple juice, lime juice and a dash of Angostura bitters. (Online, you will find variations.) Garnish with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry, and you have a sweet, pink-colored and cold concoction that, by Long Bar tradition, you consume with peanuts from a burlap bag. The nuts are provided in great quantity, and, also by tradition, shells are carelessly discarded upon the geometric-patterned floor like confetti at a wedding.
At nearly US $30 apiece, this was investment drinking, but I avoided the fuss and bother of paying up. Instead, as I approached the entrance to the Long Bar, I walked briskly by the bending line, like a celebrity let into a crowded club ahead of all others, and was directed to an upstairs room where a Swiss law firm was hosting a private event and where Singapore Slings were as plentiful as colas at a child’s birthday party.
The next day, Raffles one-upped itself by serving as the venue for a private afternoon tea (in the British manner) I hosted for a couple dozen fellow fashion lawyers from around the world.
Attorneys in my curious area of practice are familiar with luxury, but I drew universal raves for that afternoon tea and for everything I hosted at the Capital Kempinski. Indeed, it was with a tinge of regret that I bade farewell to the concierge, bellmen, and the other staff in the Kempinski’s lobby as they hoisted my heavy, straight-fashion-dude luggage into the trunk of the waiting taxi. The hotel had truly felt like home to me, but it was time to leave with my memories, with my Zisha teapot and cups, with bags of rare teas from a gourmet teashop of the Singapore-based TWG chain—and with a darned good recipe for Singapore Slings.
If You Go
Capital Kempinski Singapore, 15 Stamford Road. For reservations through The Leading Hotels of the World: www.lhw.com; U.S. and Canada tel.: +1-800-745-8883. For dinner, try the menu based on artisanal beef dishes at the main restaurant, 15 Stamford by Alvin Leung.
Yeossal & Co. showroom (by appointment only) 33 Ubi Avenue 3, #07042 Vertex Tower A, www.yeossal.com, tel.: +65-8202-3625. Prices vary by cloth selection, of course, but a two-piece half-canvased made-to-measure suit starts at a very reasonable US $700.
Yixing Xuan Teahouse, 78 Tanjong Pagar Road, www.yixingxunan-teahouse.com. Experience prepared tea and buy rare teas and everything you need to brew them in the Chinese manner.
LeVeL 33, 33rd Floor, 8 Marina Blvd, #33 - 01 Tower 1, Singapore 018981, tel.: +65 6834 3133. Beer brewed on premises with grand views of the city.
Long Bar at Raffles, #02-01Raffles Arcade, 328 North Bridge Road, tel.: +65 6412 1816. The line can be daunting, but you have to do it: US $29 for your Singapore Sling, and given how fruity and sweet it will be, you may find yourself paying for another.
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