Raindrops Café

Tucked away in an obscure corner just off the newly opened *SCAPE complex, Raindrops Café feels like one of those charming little cafés we’re so fond of abroad. This intimate space seats just 20 patrons, with another four tables in the al fresco area. In fact, it’s so cozy that we had to wait a full 40 minutes before being seated.

To start, we went with their signature tataki tuna which arrived in a winter coat of black pepper, completely overpowering the delicate taste of the pacific tuna. Its accompanying shimeji mushroom ragout had an unusually bitter taste that made it unpalatable. Another unsuccessful dish was their squid ink, prawn and scallop roe pasta. While the spaghetti was perfectly al dente, the anemic-looking prawns made us question if they were even grilled as advertised on the menu. But the dish’s true undoing was its overly salted sauce which left our tongues reeling. Fortunately, their lemongrass chicken leg with pumpkin risotto was somewhat enjoyable. If you overlook the mushy risotto and minuscule cubes of pumpkin, at least the chicken was tender and seasoned well. Despite the other disappointments, we boldly decided to try their crème brûlée. This was a pleasant surprise for our distressed palates and without a doubt the highlight of our meal.

Aside from its burnt sugar lid which we tapped into with a satisfying crack, the luscious custard underneath hid a medley of blueberries, red currants and blackberries. We felt like children on a berry treasure hunt. The sweet creaminess of the perfectly set custard with the slightly tart berries was a delight. With bare bulbs and white booths, we craved a tad more warmth in the ambiance. Fortunately, the staff tried hard to step in and provide that missing touch. We would have gladly traded in their overly ambitious menu of starters, salads, pastas, pizzas, mains and desserts for a few well-executed dishes. Despite the effort, we don’t see ourselves rushing back for seconds.