A tasteful farewell

For palliative care patients, food restores some agency and dignity

- Cherie Lok

In nearly four decades in the kitchen, chef Rathakrishnan Ramaiyan has received all sorts of requests. Less sugar, more relish, no dairy, softer fish. For the most part, nothing too out of the ordinary.

Perhaps the most memorable came in November 2017, when a priest's aide stepped through the doors of The Black Sheep Cafe, a French restaurant then located in a quiet corner off Upper Thomson Road, and ordered a bowl of French onion soup with super soft onions.

Super soft because the soup was intended for the bedside of Father Louis Loiseau, a 91-year-old priest whose life had begun in France and was ending in Singapore. Craving something familiar, the ailing priest had asked specifically for chef Ratha's onion soup.

And so, a routine was established. Over the next two months, his aides dropped by the restaurant twice a week to pick up the special order. When their messages stopped in January 2018, chef Ratha knew that his customer had died.

Cooking for the dying is an act fraught with emotion for the 56-year-old chef, whose restaurant has since moved to Norris Road. While being able to supply Father Loiseau with a final taste of home was a bittersweet honour - "I don't care for a Michelin star. This was my Michelin star," he says — his unexpected role as a sort of culinary death doula has, at times, taken a toll.

"It's quite hard to have someone walk into your restaurant and announce that they're going to die," he says, having encountered several such instances over the years. It is his restaurant regulars flock to after a bad diagnosis, his beef cheek, duck confit and red wine which they savour as a last indulgence.

But he is certain that his calling is to feed people and extend hospitality however and whenever required. Whether in times of sorrow or joy, celebration or contemplation.