Commentary: Why I don’t go to cafes anymore

I remember when the third wave coffee movement landed on our sandy shores, fresh off the hands of Melbourne’s uber cool, well-dressed baristas. 

In just a few years, Singaporeans were inundated with pretty-looking coffee shops with the obligatory Kinfolk magazine on the tables. Getting your cup o’ joe, brewed from single-origin beans, became less of a chore and more a well-documented activity.

For many, including myself, checking out the different cafes in Singapore on the weekends turned into a hobby. It felt like a rite of passage as a young adult to dive into a book while sipping on a drink or catching up with friends as we tucked into our smoked salmon eggs benedict — an extravagant pair of wobbly poached eggs under a blanket of pastel yellow hollandaise sauce. 

Brunch was all the rage and it seemed as though we couldn’t get enough of elaborately decorated French toast, sourdough smeared with butter, scrambled eggs, and limp spinach leaves. It was an occasion to dress up for, whether or not you posed for photographs. Not to mention travelling to Melbourne just to do the same. 

At the time, it didn’t matter if the cafe food in Singapore wasn’t up to the mark. We were well aware that we visited these cafes for the aesthetic. It was all primarily for the ’gram.

Still, it didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off. It didn’t help that the quality of brunch food in Australia seemed miles better than what we could get here. After multiple instances of mediocre-standard French toasts and breakfast eggs at the cost of S$20 and upward, I put my foot down and decided that enough is enough. 

Cafe food is a dime a dozen

Truth is, apart from the well-dressed interiors, decently attractive wait staff, and trendy music, cafe food is nothing to shout about. Heck, I could make the same at home with the right ingredients (except for poached eggs, which I have yet to master). 

While there are cafes that have discovered their niche in the market, the majority kept on dishing out the same food with the occasional edible flower garnish. It quickly grew repetitive. Much like the vendors at the pasar malam or night markets, it became commonplace to find the same options over and over again. 

And, I get it. Why reinvent the wheel? Although I had stopped patronising cafes, many still did (and still do). You’ll be hard pressed to find a seat on the weekends, the time of the week when many cafes are packed with diners waiting for their artfully topped latte and artisanal sourdough sandwich. 

And god forbid that you accidentally walk in the way of an Instagram influencer taking their preened shot. 

I fear for the jaded consumer (like me), variations of the same dish of an inconsistent quality just don’t cut it anymore. We want something new and exciting; dishes that show they’ve had some creative thought put into them and not a regurgitation of what already exists. 

Cafes offering the staples (good coffee and baked goods easy for a grab and go) may have found a following, typically comprising people who live in the area nearby. Those that depend on novelty, however, would need to find ways to keep customers coming back. Cue the seasonal rotation of Chinese New Year or Christmas pastries. 

Still, I wonder how many cafes can last in the long run, especially against our local tradition of the kopitiam and kaya toast. It’s a uniquely Singaporean morning experience to head down to the neighbourhood coffee shop, wait for the soft boiled eggs to cook (a fun gamble of guess-timation) before cracking them open into shallow saucers — all this while sitting among a group of old men furiously huffing on their morning cigarette. 

Trust me, ask any Singaporean who has immigrated abroad and you’ll find that kaya is a rare commodity they might do anything to get their hands on.

Local food wins

In all my travels, I’ve found that no amount of avocado toast hits the spot compared to a hot mug of teh-O or Milo and the crunch of crisp browned thin slices of white bread coated with kaya. This is food that speaks to our soul, plus it doesn’t hurt that it won’t burn a hole in my wallet. 

My hope is that our younger generation falls in love with the fuss-free ways of the kopitiam amid the lure of the shiny and new. I hope that they, too, can romanticise the experience of traditional sock coffee, one without fancy ceramics or plateware but poured lovingly from well-worn hands. 

This isn’t to say that I’d never step foot into a cafe again. Life is made all the richer with variety and novel encounters. But until someone has the ingenuity to step out of tried-and-tested methods, I’ll be here waiting. 

Want more? Check out our commentary on the controversy surrounding chilli crab and our guide on fishball noodles in Singapore.

Do explore the new GrabFood Dine-in service for awesome deals. 

You can also book a ride to your favourite haunts (local or not) in Singapore.