People who know me offline know that I’m a not-so-closet exhibitionist. (Actually, people who only know me online could probably guess that too – why else would I parade my life and my eating habits all over the internet?!) So it comes as no surprise that on Saturday night, I indulged my inner showgirl and took to the stage dressed in various forms of bling as the freckliest-skinned, reddest-haired Bollywood dancer the Zaantheater ever did see. And I loved it.
The next morning, I woke up feeling like Marilyn Monroe (or rather, like Preity Zinta) – my hair still curled, the remnants of stage make-up under my eyes, and with a slight post-show hangover whose only cure was noodle soup… And that’s how I discovered Saigon Café – the most unlikely location for a Vietnamese restaurant, above the McDonald’s on Leidsestraat. Its entrance is through a seedy-looking doorway marked by a black sign with purple lettering. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume it was a strip club. But once upstairs, you’re greeted by a bright, airy room, fragrant with pho. Perfect – were it not for the wrist-slitting break-up songs blasting out over the sound system (why anyone would want to listen to “Everybody Hurts” on a Sunday lunchtime is beyond me – perhaps the chef had just been dumped).