“Operation Dinner Out”

That’s what I call the spy-game-like phenomenon of “guerrilla dining.” Spread through word of mouth, references may be required to keep out unsavoury characters such as axe murderers or party poopers.

My first foray into guerrilla dining was six years ago in Hong Kong. A password was required to gain entry and the menu was a surprise. The clandestine feel was exciting especially since we were given strict instructions by the hostess not to reveal any details except to trusted friends. Like a Gourmet General, she made it a point to sit at every table to chat and suss everyone out. I was given the “privilege” of a small interrogation, as I was taking pictures. She quizzed me on my intention and if the photos would be published. I explained that I was a tourist who was new to photography and even showed her my over-exposed pictures to prove that there was no way the pictures would find their way to print. Satisfied with my photographic ineptitude, she left us to enjoy our food. To date, I have not had a Sichuan meal that topped the flavours that I savoured at that private kitchen. Whilst they didn’t serve gourmet dishes, the food had an irreplaceably honest and memorable home-cooked feel that cannot be found in restaurants. The experience was enhanced because on some level – I felt as if I was a guest at an intimate family dinner, though I chipped in my dues to defray the costs.

My most recent experience was hosted by a young culinary enthusiast, Jeremy Cheok, who honed his skills in restaurant kitchens in Singapore. The theme of the party: Peranakan food, prepared the traditional way. No shortcuts, no pre-made sauces and no blenders, as Jeremy prepped days ahead and painstakingly pounded spices in a mortar & pestle, with regular inspections by his Nonya mother. In typical guerrilla dining fashion, the venue was a secret until the actual day. The guests were very friendly and though a few had never eaten Peranakan food before, they were game to try something new. The sincerity of his efforts paid off, for I felt that he made better Buah Keluak than many of the Peranakan restaurants in Singapore and Malacca. Though appreciation for this dish is an acquired taste, most of the diners loved it.

Jeremy started JAM with two friends in 2008, hosting small dinners for multiple groups of people before the focus shifted to private dinners. They hadn’t heard of supper clubs back then. Having since dined in hidden kitchens from Venice to Hong Kong and loving the idea of strangers getting together for a meal in an informal setting, Jeremy reverted to the original concept when he continued with JAM alone. Though he barely breaks even and sometimes has to fork out money to pay for rental, Jeremy still enjoys organizing events; they allow him to experiment in the kitchen and to showcase his skills to people who would otherwise not have the opportunity to try his cooking.

A general perception of Singaporeans is that they are unadventurous. Jeremy, however, shared that most of the guests are locals. The mark of an intrepid guerrilla diner is an open mind and curiosity to try new dishes in unusual settings. The menu is fixed, changes all the time and special requests are not entertained so regulars can be assured of a different gastronomic experience each time.

Leave your inhibitions behind and take a walk on the wild side with guerrilla dining. Look up “Singapore Secret Supper Society” in Meetup.com.