I’m not sure why, honestly. Looking back, the Blue Pumpkin was just like any other bakery in KL with a posh setting. Maybe it was how it stood in stark contrast to its grim surroundings; maybe it was my pining for something remotely familiar in the midst of all the foreign chaos. Whatever it was, the discovery of my little oasis in Siem Reap has seared its way into my memory.
Although judging from google results, it seems like I'm not the only one who was left with a lasting good memory.
We were loitering around the streets of Siem Reap after dinner at an overpriced restaurant located on a street not unlike Jalan Telawi in Bangsar when we found a cozy little pastry shop – some white people were sitting at the alfresco dining area, sipping coffee and nibbling on some baked goods. We were hunting for some light dessert, and a glimpse of its classy ice cream display was enough to lure us in.
The entire shop was white; from the walls, to the counter tops and bread racks… down to the plastic caps of their customized water bottles. All the staff wore a dark Blue Pumpkin apron over their crisp white fitted polo t-shirts, and none of them looked a day over 21.
In the middle of the shop was a wooden rack decked with white plastic trays. Individually-wrapped cookies stacked meticulously on top of each other; breads and pastries of all sorts lined up under the soft yellow light to keep them warm and toasty. I bent down to smell the perfect-looking croissants.
Over at the far left corner was the pastry corner. The glass display on the counter boasted unabashedly of its delicate array of sweet snacks. Dainty canollies with a light dust of powdered sugar, tempting éclairs glistening in their smooth chocolate tops, and the cakes! All divine-looking and obviously created with a passion.
But the counter on the right beckoned me away before I could sink my eyes on the tiramisu cups. Colorful buckets of mouth-watering ice creams and frozen yogurts – exactly what I’d been craving for throughout the hot and sweaty days in Phnom Penh. Coconut, ginger, banana, black sesame, hazelnut, green tea, rum raisin…! I gripped the boyfriend’s hand tightly to stop from jumping up and down with joy.
The atmosphere was so comforting, the settings so clean. Even though I’d grown somewhat accustomed to the grim reality that is Cambodia, for a moment I imagined myself outside of Cambodia, in a place where mass genocide and ruthless poverty is nothing more than a chapter in a Sociology class syllabus, leaving all its grittiness and dark past behind. My feet felt rooted to the clean, wooden floors as I trailed my fingers along the glass display slowly, savoring the little oasis.
“I think they’re closing soon, Dee. You decided which flavors you want yet?” he walked up from behind me, stuffing some loose change into his wallet, a plastic bag filled with muffins and pastries already dangling from his wrist.
I finally woke up from my little trance, and pointed at the ones I wanted. The waitress was all set to take my order, a metal scoop on her hand and a service smile on her youthful face.
“Rum raisin and berry yogurt, please.”
If you're curious, they have a snazzy website too – www.tbpumpkin.com
