My feminine Coco

It has been more than a decade, but I still think of Coco. On that fateful first day of bloody darn conscription, she waltzed into the barracks and turned every army boy's head. She had such smooth fair skin, lovely curves and luscious long hair that was a sharp contrast to the shaven heads that me and my new-found buddies had. But an hour later, we realised that we do share some similarities with Coco. She had a penis too.

You see, Coco belonged to that category of almost there, but yet not really. She looked like a hot chick and spoke like one thanks to regular hormone jabs. Unfortunately, she was not yet one. Her identity card said Male, and in Singapore, that means compulsory military service when you are 18. In common speak, she is a transvestite. In Singapore, they are often called derogatory terms like "bapok" or "ah kua". In ancient China, they would be likened to eunuchs. In the Singapore Armed Forces, she was classified as a Pes 302. I never quite figure out why 302 was used and not 123.


I never saw Coco again after those early months of bloody darn conscription and quite frankly, had clean forgotten her (I think she must have snipped off her manhood by now). But this ancient city of Beijing has a strange way of connecting you to your past. In my case, it is usually done through my Forbidden Stomach.

Some weeks back, YF suggested lunch at Coco Curry House. I said yes instantly. I may have a hopelessly weak tummy, but I love curry. I love that fiery monster that leaves me crippled and moaning on the throne the next morning. Muthu's, Apollo, Samy's, you name it, I love them all in Singapore.

But alas, Coco Curry House is as Indian as me - ie, not very. It serves Japanese curry. For those who have never had Japanese curry, just know that it is basically an imposter. It is not spicy, not fiery and certainly won't leave you moaning on the throne with a burning arse. In fact, any other names for that brown paste Japanese thing would be more appropriate than "curry". How about "nibushijiali"? Or "zheyidiandoubuxiangjiali"?


But curry the Japanese called it and Coco Curry House has more than a thousand restaurants all over Japan, China and even LA. Someone must obviously like this weird thing. The outlet we went to at high-end 美美百货 or Maison Mode mall (10-8571-2230) was really very Japanese - clean, neat and complete with oddly-phrased English like "Good Smell, Good Curry". The restaurant was squeaky clean, with crisp table paper mats and overeager wait staff whose wages must depend on how megawatt their smiles can get.


When my beef rice with egg omelette was served, the rice was wrapped up in the omelette with curry swimming around it. Very clean, neat and cute. The curry though, was, well, somewhat effeminate. Easy to eat, but hardly hot stuff. Coco - the Curry House and not my old army mate - has pasta too, but again, I have never been keen on Jap takes on Italian cuisine. YF said their spaghetti was not bad, so I may give it a chance next time. Expect to pay about 40 yuan per head.


For those who like Jap curry, give Coco Curry House a try. For me, one delicate Coco in my life is more than enough.