The Memorables & Mentionables" 2007 Grub Round Up

My my, isn’t 2007 in a hurry to go somewhere esle? At the end of 2006 and still reeling from the after effects of travels, I’ve always thought of 2007 as nothing more then just a prelude to 2008. How could it possibly top 2006 in all its Euro-hopping glory? Well, I was wrr … wrrr …–deep breath- WR-ONG.

In 2007, a silver of fame tinged this blog. I took food writing more seriously and became a writer cum Assistant Editor for SMU Gourmet Club’s magazine***. I met many amazing people, heard their stories and diverted from my career plans so much so that it now resembles a chanterelle-shaped mind map. Of course, I have great memories of my birthday party at Pitch Black. I wouldn't change anything about 2007... Okay perhaps remember to bring mosquito repellent to Bali but other than that, nuttathing to change. Sure, I could have erased some people and "incidents" from memory but without 2007, how else would I know to avoid them in 2008 onwards?

The end of the year usually means it's time to reflect on the good deeds we have done (shouldn’t take more than 5 minutes), our sins (make that ten, no fifteen minutes) and unresolved New Year resolutions (I guess we could pretty much skip that last part since there’s always next year). Better to move onto "The Memorables & Mentionables" 2007 Grub Round Up.

The highlights of 2007 made for sweet memories that linger on like the perfume of a lady who has just sashayed by. When I revisited my archives, memories of who did what, who said what when and what took place remain defiant against the aging process (arh, must be the omega-3 from all that sashimi). I also chose to leave out restaurants overseas because the playing field is different altogether.

This year's wrap up is a little different from last year. Items on this year's list aren’t confined to restaurants because
1. I haven’t had the luck nor buck to plunge into most menus.
2. I’m not incredibly proud to say this but I’ve an attention deficit disorder to most food items which means I can’t go through 10 bites of any dish without assuming the persona of a casting director- "NEXT!!!" As a result, against doctor’s recommendation, snacking about is how I usually get by.

It’s a long list, are you ready? Highlights of 2007.



Encore-worthy performances

Le Bistrot is without a doubt my favorite restuarant of the year. Just about anyone who has asked me for a recommendation has been pointed in its direction. Who would have thought this little enclave hidden within Stadium Walk could exude such charm and warmth?

Another restaurant that was more than a pleasant surprise is Brassiere Wolf at Robertson Quay , which provides a lovely spot for quiet lunch.

Otoro and Uni from Akane. Some say the first time is always the most memorable. Yeah, I figured just as much.

The slick-as-hell sashimi from Tatsuya made me weak in the knees. Correction, 'makes me weak in the knees' because I'm still reminiscing about it.

Brunch at Marmalade Pantryis an oldie but goodie. It's been around even before brunch became de riguer for any self-respecting yuppie. Seriously, I have no idea how the crazily delicious must-I-share sticky date pudding managed to stay out of my radar for so long. Well, not anymore for Target: Delicious Gimme More is well in sight.

Morton’s. Great food (duh it's cooked in duck fat!). Awesome service. I think it’s funny how people rave about Morton’s onion loaf but did you know you can get an awesome mini onion loaf at Vila'ge at The Heeren, where Marche used to be? Fluffy, soft and sprinkled with onion bits… what more can you ask for? Oh yeah, breathe mints. In fact, I think Vila'ge’s pretty neat bakery is one of Orchard Road’s best well-kept secret. Every time I pop by for my onion loaf fix, the muffins, glistening under the glare of the spot light stare back at me in a love-forlorn manner, like sad kittens waiting to be adopted.

There's nothing 'petit' about their new pad at Harding Road and while the cute cosy factor may be somewhat diminished, the food's still dependable, so say a big hello to Au Petit Salut.

Most gelatos these days are missing that WOW quotient, those looking for a brief respite from the usual chocolate and er- chocolate concoctions will find solace in the olive oil and tomato gelato from Riciotti.

I'm pretty much hooked on fish pie from Pierside Kitchen and Bar Dunk a fish in pie? Why don't people do this more often? Why just put two or four legged land animals in pies? I know I sound grotesque but why why why?

I know Da Paolo Gastronomia at Cluny Court is not the most comfortable place to hang out. You are at the mercy of Singapore's erratic weather, where it can either get stifling hot or just plain wet wet wet and when the roads get busy, you are accosted by a whammy of carbon monoxide. Despite so, I love hanging out here. Must be the presence of Tupperwares.

Hey come on, the fact that I lived on PB&J sourdough bread from Simply Sandwich during my internship is enough to warrant a spot on this post. As you can see the trans-fat fiasco hasn’t exactly taken me off a bread-heavy diet.

I normally don't think much of bakery chains and I refuse to categorize Swissbake as 'one of them'. Have you checked out their chocolate croissants? How can some chocolate croissants wannabes call themselves ‘chocolate croissants’ when they only contain sinewy chocolate trails? Swissbake's is gorged/ jammed/ stuffed end-to-end with chocolate, making this the Queen Bee of chocolate croissants.

You are the Weakest Link

Admittedly, I haven’t come across any disturbingly horrible experiences that beg a restraining order. I think its also because I’m uber particular about the places I visit, making sure I have done enough “research” on them before visiting.

[When Bad Stuff Happens To Good People] Botak Jones’s Burger. The whole 'ginormous portions of good food at you-sure-i-heard-you-right prices' concept has tugged at the heart -and purse- strings of most people but the burger's dry beef patties aren’t getting’ any lovin’ from me.

[When Bad Stuff Happens To ERM-Ok People] Roast Beef Sandwich from PS Café. This is the epitome of a BLARRDY waste of calories. You either blessed with jaws of steel or empty gut to eat this- guess I had both on that day.

The 'Naughty' List

Argh, the next few restaurants aren't bad! They don't call for the need to pick up plaque cards, stomp down City Hall and holler 'R-E-S-P-E-C-T for Diner'. I mean, they might even be on your Default Dining list. The food isn't necessarily inedible but there was something about the service, ambience and/ or SOPs that left a bad taste in my mouth.

Now I do feel bad about blacklisting these restaurants but I do think a silent customer is the most dangerous customer. This is neither a power trip nor malicious ha-i-gotcha rant. I genuinely hope that these restaurants can ever so tweak some faulty cog so that they can go onto conquer the hearts, minds and guts of their customers and instill world peace! Er hello, world peace is so 2006? Please tune your ‘IN’ frequency to Global Warming.

Le Papilion. Less can be More.

Peperoni Pizzeria. Less Talk, More Toppings.

Shiraishi: I can't get you out of my head- just so that I will never make the same mistake.

Croissants from Canele. Such tragedy.

Slow service at Shanghai Eats. Too little, too late.

Novus. Novelty at best.

And this year we have a tie for 'What’s the Big Fuss' award
Donut factory & Marutamen ramen
The last time I witness such fervor, queue and hype was at an immigration centre. Does food taste better only after you have queued for it?

Restaurants to try in 2008
(as of 31 December 2007)

Au Jardin
Les Bouchon Rive Gauche
Relish
Nogawa
Old School
Tomo

As of today, my blog is 3 years, 1 month and 11 days old. We’ve come a long way, babe. And finally to you my dear readers, best wishes for 2-0-0-8!

*** I have taken over as Publications Director so you are interested in dining on someone else’s expense writing, holler back! Sorry, but this is only applicable to SMU students.

Mingxi, "Hey do you know... Oh wait, you don't cook"

Me (mock horror), "Well you can still ask me right? And I shall pretend to listen closely and dispense my worldly knowledge"

Ok, what's the use of oregano? I mean like how is it suppose to enhance the flavour?

Erm, well oregano is always used with romsemary and thyme... but erm, as for flavour, er- why don't you use just 'google'?

Yup, welcome to Yixiao's Helpdesk.

I know it's been quiet but I have been having problems with my modem. It's finally back up! Come back the next couple of days...

BALI

A fortnight ago, Mum dangled a pair of minimicro lycra shorts in front of me. Not one to pull of skanky Kardashian antics, I stared at her with a look that pleaded ‘explanation please!’

She then gleefully proclaimed, “I’m going to swim in this” and seemed genuinely excited by the prospects of waddling in the pool. It’s rather bewildering because I don’t recall any of us (true blue heliophobes) actively swimming in the last few years; even my dad has given if up, claming that it affected his golf swing.

Unable to grasp the concept wholly, I asked again, "You are going to swim?"

Yes, in our private pool. Aren’t you?

Hmm, no? It was as if the private pool at the villa had failed to register in my “Things to do in Bali” plans. Come to think of it I haven’t swam in years, well 5 to be exact, after I was done compulsory swimming classes in JC. I guess there are many reasons why I haven’t swim in years, chief among which:

I have issues with the sun.

Yeah but I figured it would be nice to take a dip at night.

I have bigger issues with the swimsuit.

Man, those things are so unforgiving! I just can't imagine squeezing myself into one of those dreadful stretchy things that cling onto your f-. Growing up, I never failed to remind myself of a bak zhang. If I had it my way, childhood pictures of me in a swimsuit would be incinerated.

What if someone calls up the White House, “Mr. President, I think we have found the weapon of mass destruction… right here in Bali, Seminyak.”

Argh! I don’t want to spend Christmas in handcuffs.

It’s a PRIVATE pool. Yeah well whatever. I have no wish to inflict visual horror fest on natural flora and fauna of Bali.

I don’t own a swimsuit. But say, if (for some freak reason) I were to get one, I want a nice swimsuit- no Hawaiian flowers or Speedos. I’m only going to be in Bali for four days so I’m not going to splash out of a swimsuit that would get thrown to the back of my closet and never see the light of day once I’m back. Then again if I were to just wet my feet, I probably don’t need a swimsuit, right? Ok I admit, I did pop into Butt Cheels and NewUrbanMale a couple of times over the weekend but after looking through the outlandish outfits, I ended up feeling really nauseated.

Unable to detect the wet blanket I’ve been, my mum offered, “I’ve a few old swimsuits, I’m sure you can fit into them.“

Uh-oh. My mum’s taste and mine are as different as chalk and cheese- she’s into colour and prints, while I stick to monochromes. True enough, I found a couple of swimwear fashion disasters- polka dots, red with blue hibiscus- but surprise surprise, I chanced upon a PLAIN black halter. Squeezing myself into it, I felt like an honorary member of the Johnsonville Sausage fan club.

When did you get this?

1979

Ok, so technically my swimsuit is older than me.

Where did you get it?

Scotland.

That’s akin to saying, “I got my mink jacket from the Bahamas”.

Well, at least I have a swimsuit. GASP.

And I'm off to Bali for 4 days till the 25th.
Merry Christmas to you all!

City Hall Maxim's Place, Hong Kong

From the beginning, I never thought much about dim sum in Hong Kong. I mean, you could get pretty darn good dim sum in Singapore, why fly all the way to Hong Kong for a few meat-filled nibbles served in bamboo steamers?

Then Luk Yu came along, pricked my heart and suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to have a frigging awesome good time with frigging awesome dim sum. Gee, I sure sound like a bitter ex-girlfriend.

What counts as ‘frigging awesome dim sum’? Well, in my opinion (which counts for something since you are on my blog) ‘frigging awesome dim sum’ isn’t just about technique or the ingredients- that’s technically-proficient critically-acclaimed dim sum.

‘Friggin awesome dim sum’ goes beyond that. It is all about getting emotional as ‘friggin awesome dim sum’ makes you sentimental and competitive. On the most basic level, it is simply dim sum that demands second helpings. It is that irresistible egg tart that quivers down your throat; that last xiao long bao you instinctively swoop off before someone else can make a move on it; that har gow you *har-rt* -er, you get the picture right?

‘Friggin awesome dim sum’ is also about timing. When one has been braving soggy English weather, deprived of student-budget-friendly authentic dim sum, piercing through pan fried carrot cake, prickled with Chinese ham counts for a moment of intense gratification. Thankyew Law-rd!




In addition, ‘friggin awesome dim sum’ heals past trauma and steers you back on the path of Delectable Dim Sum Boulevard. To make up for the disappointing dim sum at Luk Yu Tea House, we made a trip down to Maxim's City Hall.

At Maxim’s, much of the fun is derived from the push carts. Waitresses with frowns cross-knitted on their foreheads, push forth trolleys stacked with steamed, baked and fried goodies, belting out the names of dishes they were pedaling as if announcing the arrival of royalty. Despite the ruckus, order-taking is extremely systematic: differentiated by size and price, you get a stamp on a card for very dish you pick. Whenever a push cart wheels by, my eyes perk up and my eyes glaze over the presentation of tempt-me-not pickings. It’s so easy to get carried away and before you know it, the table heaves under the weight of numerous bamboo steamers and porcelain china.

It comes as no surprise to many that the Cantonese phrase "dim sum" literally means to "touch the heart" but I’m sure not many of you know that it could also mean to "order to your heart's content". Well, that sure resonated loudly at Maxim's City Hall.

We scarfed down the har gows, siew mais, char siew baos, braised chicken feet, steamed pork ribs, egg tarts, cheong funs, lotus paste buns, xiao long baos and so much more.



I’m not usually taken by Chinese desserts. As a kid, I loved mango pudding and now very rarely do I take bean curd skin with gingko nuts (I admit I’m a sucker for anything that’s supposedly good for my skin). Maxim’s soy bean curd is supposedly well-known and for good reason too. It was incredibly smooth so much as that I could imagine advertisers using it as an inspiration for facial products. Advice to my dear readers, if you want your skin to look like this bowl of silky smooth bean curd 20 years down the road, stay out of the sun!



Don’t forget to make space for the roast pork and –no introduction needed- char siew. Gee, I can never get enough of char siew. Despite feasting on char siew consecutively for three days in a row, it never fails to get me excited.

To be honest, I think you can get excellent dim sum in Singapore; perhaps what's missing is the rowdiness, the bad service- the so-called “atmosphere”. Located opposite the Queen’s Pier, Maxim’s City Hall has no trouble filling its hundred tables daily- now that's a lot of hearts “touched”.

My Favourite Supermarket, 360 Degrees

Nobu, Hong Kong

One day when the pollution cleans up, NOBU InterContinental Hong Kong would be able to lay claim to a stunning harbour view. One day… Not quite tomorrow or next week but one day eventually.

Carbon-copy press releases declared, "NOBU at InterContinental Hong Kong showcases innovative Japanese cuisine." On my bitchy days, I hate it when the word "innovative" is used to describe food. There's nothing vaguely aesthetic or emotional about the word 'innovative'. Furthermore, there is this nuance of functionality attached to the word. What do you do with food? You just eat it! You could play with it but your mum would never approve. What's 'innovative'? Science is innovative and so is technology and design! The newest Nokia clamshell-touchpad-too-many functions-too-handle phone and Herman Millar chairs are innovative. But “innovative food”?

Ok fine you want to be innovative? Surprise me.



We ordered the Nobu Signature Bento Box and Nobu Hong Kong Bento Box, which seemed pretty comprehensive for Nobu virgins.



If there was anything worth mentioning, it would have to be the salad dressings and sauces. The yellowtail tempura roll, black cod saikyo yaki, sashimi salad with Matsuhisa dressing and rock shrimp tempura with creamy spicy sauce were gloriously coated with pick-me-up dressings. For that matter, I could do very well with a daily serving of the rock shrimp tempura with Nobu’s patented-oo-oo sauce.

Sadly, the saucy affair begins and ends there.



The sushi assortment was so-so and the sashimi assortment trio threaded on the pass-fail border by being tasteless and limp.



What really threw the restaurant off course was its blatant lack attention paid to commonplace Japanese dishes- the oyako don and pork katsu. As both are such quintessential dishes, one would have been shocked by how mediocre both dishes were.

The oyako don was suffered from chicken deficit and the pork katsu was nothing more than a piece of pork loin, bread crumbed and deep fried till the juiciness have been unceremoniously zapped out.

The sea urchin spine-filled ceiling which evoked 'hmms' and 'ohhhs' initially soon took on a more sinistic shape. Halfway through lunch, I was half-hoping the sea urchin spines would miraculously dislodge themselves and shower upon us, so that we could leave without having to pay for lunch.



To commemorate the truffle season, Nobu prepared a special truffle menu and we decided to indulge a little with the soba risotto with truffle. Grainier and coarser, the buckwheat risotto had character of its own- in fact, it had too much character and refused to mingle with the truffle flavor. Till this date, both parties still remain aloof from each other



The fancysmazzy-sounding chocolate bento box turned out to be nothing more than a molten chocolate cake served in a commonplace bento box. There was nothing special about the bento box, devoid of flavour or aesthetic enhancing significance whatsoever; in fact, it wouldn’t have made a difference if the cake had been served on Royal Copenhagen china or a paper box. Served with a deliciously bitter green tea ice cream, the hot-cold contrast was sorely missed as the molten chocolate within was barely lukewarm.



The matcha teacake inspired the only ‘You got to try this’ comment of the day. In contrast to the heavy ice cream and chocolate cake, the teacake and sorbet provided sweet relief to those looking for something light.

Nobu first wowed critics and won aficionados in 1994 with “innovative Japanese cuisine”. However it pays to note that what was innovative in 1994 now screams ‘tired and blah’. It’s like “the Rachel”. The who? The Rachel hairdo. Back in the late 1990s, people rushed to hair salons clutching pictures of Jennifer Aniston’s character Rachel Greene, demanding the Rachel do’; yet more than a decade on, the Rachel ‘do’ is really a Rachel ‘don't’.

There was something troubling about the lunch crowd too- a mainland Chinese couple, 2 expatriates, a couple of business folks and us (tourists). The lack of boisterous locals was unsetting and made me wonder if death was on the cards. Apparently, Mr Matsuhisa spends most of his time “traveling to his restaurants and looking out for prospective sites for new locations.” One thinks it’s time he paid a visit to Hong Kong.



"No Boo"...

Yum Cha @ Luk Yu Tea House, Hong Kong

On Sunday morning, a few of us went over for dim sum brunch. To place our order, we had to indicate quantity on the menu that doubled up as an ordering sheet. Under normal circumstances (i.e. in Singapore or in the company of our parents), the wholly Chinese menu wouldn’t have been a problem; at Luk Yu however, we found ourselves dealing with Chinese characters that seemed familiar when read alone but didn’t make any sense when strung in fours and fives.



After we unsuccessfully tried to make sense of the pictography, we decided to approach the friendliest looking (read: least frown lines) staff, who ticked off the order sheet as we role called some quintessential dishes.

Length of time it took us to decide we couldn't figure out the menu: 10 minutes
Length of time it took us to muster up some courage: 3 minutes
Length of time the waiter took to take our order: 30 seconds



So how was the dim sum?

HMMM.

Overall, I thought it was a little too old school for my liking. Most of the dim sum was boorishly presented and the standard seemed paralyzed with age.



Take the egg tarts, har gow and siew mais for example: sure they weren’t inedible, just that I have had better at er, just about everywhere esle. The glutinous rice, wrapped in lotus leaf was dry and bland, instead of being sticky and aromatic. That being said, at least we recognized these dishes as little did we realise this was just the start of a rather long (and expensive journey).



We were bewildered when the taro on toast, breaded and deep fried, landed on our table and horrified when meatballs flanked with 2 huge slabs of liver followed closely behind. We went from “gee I didn’t know we ordered these” to “gee I didn’t know we ordered these but I’m quite sure we didn’t because it looks positively vile!”



I once met a Danish who worked in Hong Kong but failed to appreciate the allure of dim sum because he could never figure out “what was inside.” Today, I finally understood what he meant. May I present to you the (dim) sum of all fears- these seemingly innocuous leaf-shaped dumplings. On the surface, it looked like oblong xiao long baos and even contained “broth” like xiao long baos.

But that’s where the similarities end because (insert British accent here) it was absolutely dodgy! The jaundice- looking dumplings were filled with questionable minced meat and unidentifiable broth. In fact, to call it “broth” would be letting the kitchen of easy because it was unlike any chicken/ beef/ pork stock I have ever had. -shudder-



Under normal circumstances I would have clarified with the waiters but my sister warned me about making a fuss and since the power of language eluded me, I wasn’t about to start a battle I couldn’t win. In a bid to salvage lunch, we ordered a plate of char siew, which we ate in relief; however, in light of such uninspiring dishes, we declined to order more. The restaurant was only half-filled during Sunday's lunch- looks like we aren't the only ones feeling shortchanged.

Yung Kee, Hong Kong

It's funny how apart from Nobu, I didn't make it a point to visit (in)famous eating houses such as Luk Yu Tea House, Mak's Noodle House, Maxim's and Yung Kee. It wasn't as if I had a checklist to mark against every time I visited a Frommer's-recommended restaurant simply because I was confident of finding good food be it any hole in the wall tea house I popped into. Another reason was because I was more of a guest than a traveler and it JUST SO HAPPENED our family friends either recommended the place, took us there or helped make a reservation. On my last night in Hong Kong, we made a pilgrimage to the famous Yung Kee.

Located on Wellington Street at Central District, the restaurant may be sandwiched between typical narrow streets but it as noticeable as a slab of tuna in plain view of famished cats. To any hungry passer-by, the hanging roasted geese and duck window displays could give Bergdorf Goodman's "Fantasy" Christmas window display a good run for its money.

Inside, the restaurant was a scene of organized chaos: diners were tucking in with such gusto, simultaneously exchanging banter and comments; nifty service ensured plates and trays of food from were channeled from kitchen to table in the shortest amount of time. Peaces was ensured- so long as people were fed and nobody got in the way of the staff.

The menu was cause for mild amusement. A list of their awards and accolades beefed up the first few pages almost like a report card cum morale boosting propaganda. Dear Customers and Loyal Subjects, We are The Best Restaurant. NOBODY Does It Better!

As soon as we placed our order, we were greeted by Yung Kee's signature century eggs and pickled ginger. In contrast to the pretty in pink ginger, the gelatinous orbs could potentially be a regular on Fear Factor. Perhaps i will give them a try.. once I get over my resistance towards dark ominous-looking round bug-shaped er eggs.

We also had the double boiled mushroom soup, some sauteed greens and steamed bean curd in soya Sauce, which were faultless but not the reason we came for.



When In Rome, Do As The Romans Do. When In Yung Kee, Order the Roast Goose. Arh, wouldn't you just look at that glorious tint glistening away. How strangely therapeutic. In the 10 days I spent in Hong Kong, I ate more roasted duck, pigeon, char siew and pork belly than I had in months. It felt as if I ate my fill to last me indefinitely or at least, till the next time I visit Hong Kong.

The unexpected highlight for me was the steamed red garoupa. Before it was prepared, the live red garoupa attended casting call as it was brought to our table for our stamp of approval. I love the simplicity of this dish. Steamed bouncy flesh, drizzled with soya sauce and topped with spring onion shreds, its goodness underscored by the sheer freshness of the fish.

Touristy or not, Yung Kee has not lost any of that luster and is still performing to pack houses daily. Though among the locals, Yung Kee has earned the reputation of being a rip-off, this hasn't stopped the crowds from spilling over two floors (and possibly more?) of the restaurant.

Le Marron, Hong Kong

Time for “Love it. Wanna keep it a secret!” post.

Our family friend Auntie Jo took us for dinner at Le Marron at Causeway Bay. Inside, the restaurant looks like a brasserie salon, replete with mini rooms and lace partitions. Understandably, the décor was Camembert-cheesy and lacy screens provide little shield against noisy nosy diners but otherwise, I felt light years away from the hustle and bustle of Causeway Bay. From beginning to end, service was crisp, casual and friendly.

The single-paged menu is basically divided into 5 sections- starters, seafood, soups, main course and dessert and spotted a bevy of dishes that stroked my Francophilia tendencies. No kidding. A top-down scan of the menu only served to made me even more indecisive. I veered from desserts to starters to main course and back, each time none the wiser because everything just screamed, “you wanna a piece of me?”. Even after my order was taken, I was plagued with “should I have ordered ___ instead?” doubts.

Instead of disturbing the waiter, I decided to busy myself with the bread basket, served with butter, pate and tuna. Oh yeah, nothing quite like warm crusty bread rolls to distract me from the more important things in life.



If nothing floats your Chinese junk ship more than warm bowl of soup on a chilly winter’s evening, you might want to give their French onion soup and mushroom soup a try.



For starters, we had salad, snails, frogs’ legs and fatty liver. With the exception of the salad and had it not been for the fact that we were in a French restaurant, it sure sounds like Macbeth’s witches were moonlighting guest chefs. Phew!



The not-so-french California Salad, which came with chicken, bacon, eggs, cheese, crouton among the mesclun mix, was dependable but it was the snails, frogs and liver which hoarded the limelight.

What do you mean you have ran out of newts and blind worms?

The escargot, soaked in parsley butter, had been baked on a bed of roughly chopped po-tay-po-tah-toes; the frog legs were sauteed with generous dollop of garlic herb butter while the pan fried foie gras heart achingly soft, it decadence mellowed by the tangy wild berries compote.



The kitchen seems to have a penchant for excessive butter and olive oil but that’s what bread baskets are for, honey!

For our main courses, my mum and Auntie Jo went for the pan fried Kurobuta pork, while my sister zoomed in on the halibut and I opted for the baked lamb chop.



The kurobuta pork was an eye-opener. It’s amazing how you think you found the tenderest piece of pork chop, and then something else comes along, shocks your system and makes you question what have you been raving about all along. I took a bite and subconsciously declared, “this ain’t pork, this is.. is.. chicken thigh!” Flavour-wise, one could count on a drizzle of porcini gravy to jazz up still-can’t-believe-it’s-kurobuta.



My sister had the roasted tapenade-crusted Atlantic halibut with wild mushroom ragout and beet jus, which she polished off with little ease. That’s saying something for my sister who usually won’t participate in any fishy business unless it absolutely devoid of well, fishiness.



For my main course, I usually always go for red meat. I felt as though I was caught between the two loves of my life- duck confit and wagyu beef cheeks. Unable to make a decision, I browsed through the rest of the menu, in search of something new to try. The risotto with truffles and seared balsamic and honey pigeon sounded promising enough but wasn’t enough to pique my curiosity. Faced with difficult choices, I went for the unusual suspect –baked lamp chops- but was immediately with dread as soon as my order was taken.

“Oh dear, I should have order the wagyu beef cheek… it’s been 5 minutes since my order was taken, wonder if I can change it to the duck confit, or not wait, the pigeon”

Alas the baked lamb chops were disturbingly good. I have never had lamb chops served shaped like hearty drumsticks, much less rubbed with wild mushroom puree and wrapped in thin puff pastry that tore away to reveal love-me-tender insides. It was more than just love at first bite, it was my ‘Hallelujah’ moment.

I’m definitely feeling Christmas spirit this year and it’s not just because of dessert. Somehow the kitschy overplayed Christmas carols and mechanical Santas, reindeers and snowmen seem to have effected my emo side.



Typical me eyed the dessert menu even before I had decided on my starter and main course. Admittedly the main courses were a tough act to follow up on, however this doesn’t mean you should forgo dessert under ANY circumstances because Le Marron dishes out some neat desserts



The crepes suzette, served with vanilla ice cream was very French, very 'Mademoiselle would like seconds'! The folds of crepe, all sponged up with citrus delight, resembled wrapping paper I couldn’t wait to tear away. Paired with vanilla ice cream, it was as if Christmas had arrived early.



The Grand Marnier soufflé performed beautifully. Every bite melted away like falling snowflakes on a chilly winter night.

It was definitely no ‘Silent Night’ as we tucked into baked banana with vanilla ice cream and toffee sauce. As I relished every bite in a state of half-trance, a vision of Nigella Lawson popped into my mind (it gets a little biblical here): the domestic goddess herself scrapping clean the plate, dishing out salacious noises while she’s at it.



No Michelin stars, no celebrity chefs, not exactly the watering hole for the who’s-who from Hong Kong Tatler scene but that’s what I like about Le Marron. A hidden gem tucked away Indiana-Jones-style on the 12th floor of Ying Kong Mansion (so there! I’ve revealed the secret location), Le Marron is undoubtedly one of my favorite restaurants in Hong Kong.

Dinner @ Luk Yu Tea House, Hong Kong

Established in 1933, Luk Yu Tea House is perhaps the most famous teahouse in Hong Kong. Since Hong Kong doesn't have many famous historical sites so to speak of, Luk Yu probably qualifies as one.



I have been warned that its long established history comes with a matching blase attitude (especially to "gweilos") but I think time has mellowed its old soul. I actually managed to catch a half-smile (or was it just a lip twitch?) from one of the waiters.

We had the soup of the day and they served the soup and its condiments separately, which is swell because most of the time, you have absolutely no idea what goes into the soup. Well, now we know the soup is rich with flavour, thanks to the belly pork, fried fish, “fen guo” and “che dou”.

Luk Yu also lays claim to my first roast meat binge in Hong Kong. The char siew, chunky lucent strips of fatty goodness and roasted pork, crunchy smoky tender ingots satiated my craving for the night.

We also had roasted pigeon, served with flat as a punctured tire keropok. Hmm, taste like very bony baby chicken. If you like skin and bones, you will love pigeon. Me? I love skin, not too crazy about the bones.

One can never too full for tofu, which was crisp on the outside, almost as soft as custard within. Yet against the line up of richly-flavoured dishes, the tofu could very well do with an additional pinch of salt.

Arh, our obligatory plate of greens, stir fried cabbage, coarsely chopped and stir fried with black beans.

Now meet my all time favourite fried rice “yang chow chao fun”. My mouth literally watered at the sight of this great toss-up of egg, shrimp and finely diced char siew. Everyone has their 2 cents' worth of what makes a kickass fried rice.

Use overnight rice.. Your wok must be hot enough for the rice to ‘dance’ off the surface.. Fry the rice and drizzle beaten egg all over it.. No no no.. Fry the egg first, THEN add in the rest of the ingredients..

Any tips from your truly? Nah, i just sit back, relax and ask for third helpings. You wouldn't want ‘fried rice advice’ (hey, that kinda has a nice ring to it) from a girl who has only done it twice- once in home economics class and once in Copenhagen to prove to mum that she wasn't starving to death.



Mini mahjong parlours, marble tabletops, wood paneling, and stained-glass windows in tow, one can almost imagine in her heydays, 24 Stanley Street was the choice venue for well-coiffed spiffly-dressed folks. Dinner at this establishment was satisfying, unfortunately the same can't be said for dim sum lunch. Stay tuned.