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A Japanese restobar at Customs House where the lift is wrapped in kintsugi, the rooftop is sprayed by ANTZ and a geisha in a fox mask glares at Marina Bay. The least corporate thing in Raffles Place.
LG Han of Labyrinth cooks, Vijay Mudaliar of Native pours, and the Padang sits below the terrace. Order the chilli crab ice cream; leave the Level 5 Lounge to the boyband fans.
Wolfgang Puck's California kitchen on Level 57 of Marina Bay Sands, with Singapore riffs on the plate: a sea bream laksa and a kaya toast that has met foie gras. Ask for a skyline seat.
Tea between Raffles' original Victorian pillars, with JING loose-leaf and a no-sandals dress code. Classic rather than clever: book it for the occasion and the room, not the scones.
Singapore comfort food rewritten as brunch in a 1936 remittance house on Carpenter Street. Order the chicken curry shakshuka with coin prata first; it takes 20 to 25 minutes.
Fysh and its disco brunch are gone. The EDITION’s leafy dining room now cooks on a wok and a charcoal grill; the sets are the sensible way in.
Esora's chef, off the leash: all-day sharing plates behind Orchard Road, truffle mochi rice stuffed into chicken wings and a terrace where dogs are welcome. Kappo precision without the hush.
A family TCM hall on South Bridge Road with herbs in glass jars, in-house physicians who read your pulse and ready-to-boil soup packs for the rest of us. Closed Sundays.
About 10km of roots, hills and narrow paths around Singapore's oldest reservoir, with a swaying treetop bridge in the middle and macaques who know what a gel wrapper means. The city's proper long run.
A social bathhouse three floors up on North Canal Road: a 40-person sauna, two ice baths, neon lighting and alcohol-free socials. The CBD's new after-work round is a round of the circuit.
A proper Japanese onsen on Upper Jurong Road: nude, gender-segregated baths, a sauna and ice pool on each side and a tatami café for noodles after. Worth the trek west.
A Joo Chiat terrace house with more than 5,000 Peranakan pieces and no glass cases, where the owner lives, pours the tea and explains what you’re sitting on. By appointment only.
