Merci Marcel @ Tiong Bahru, Singapore

Address: #01-68, 56 Eng Hoon Street, Singapore 160056
Telephone Number: +65 6224 0113
Reservations: http://mercimarcel.com/reservation/
Opening Hours: 8:00am – 10:30pm Daily, Closed on Mondays
Instagram: mercimarcelsg
Facebook: Merci Marcel SG

Merci Marcel @ Tiong Bahru, Singapore

I’m not a huge fan of brunch fares in Singapore. Either they’re setup in buffets or you go to the extreme lows of ubiquitous kopitiams to grab a kaya toast, easy runny eggs and kopi-c. When I heard about the craziness in Tiong Bahru much hyped by expats, I was curious as to how they can bend the conservativeness of Singapore towards the moderne cuisine.

This was my first time at Tiong Bahru. First impression – too blue.

When Tiong Bahru Bakery partnered itself with Tiffany & Co, splashing its walls with the iconic Tiffany blue, there was nothing new to the long queues outside the bakery. It was reminiscent of the marketing stunt 5th avenue’s Tiffany & Co did, only to make its customers extremely pissed off by the lack of follow through in reservations. I hated it, and this was no exception.

Even then, the ickiness of Tiong Bahru Blue did nothing to make me happy. The sweltering heat made it worse. The Streamline Moderne architecture of Tiong Bahru slowly fades as you walk along Tiong Bahru Road, past Highline Residence, then going inside the HDB flats vicinity towards the famous Eng Hoon street where a number of coffee shops and bars sprout like Holland Village. I don’t like it quite one bit.

How is it that you manage to turn a residential area into a “hippie” neighborhood, where you can’t even wear your mules without getting stared at by uncles and aunties picking up their trolleys to Fairprice?

I wasn’t suppose to chance upon Merci Marcel. I was just supposed to survey the area and take some hipster photos to prove how Tiong Bahru attempts to mimic Haight and Ashbury in SF, Williamsburg in Brooklyn, and epic-ly fails at that. It is nothing more than another Holland Village.

See the lady dog walking? This ain’t California.

Long lines for craziness in French fare. Only to meet a fried egg on top of “Croque Marcel” like this.

Jesus Christ. You call yourself French cuisine? Their rustic bread did nothing to alleviate the poorly cooked fried egg. It was disgusting bar none. And it did nothing to make me happy after being asked “Are you eating ma’am?”

In all my 5 years of writing, reviewing restaurants, I’ve never sat in a restaurant and questioned if I was going to eat.

What in the bloody hell is that?