Lunch at Tatsuya, Park Hotel

Summer might have been the season to welcome friends back on their holidays but it was also the season where I bid farewell to an extremely dear friend of mine, Diana. Bearing our love for Japan, now-in-HK Diana and I met up at Tatsuya for a sort of farewell lunch.

Despite its fame, Tatsuya is a restaurant that retains its warmth. The both times I was there, the seasoned staff were polite and the owner Ronnie Chia did his best to acknowledge every customer's presence.



Lunch at Tatsuya is great for those dining on personal account and there are quite a few set lunches to choose from. Diana had the sashimi unajyu bento, a very comprehansive bento that came with assorted tempura and sashimi, as well as grilled unagi slices over rice. It's quite a feast as one gets to enjoy the raw, the grilled and the deep-fried.



In contrast, my yakizakana bento seemed like a ripple in the pond ... but it suited me just fine as I had a heavy breakfast before that.

Heavy breakfast before Tatsuya? What an awful idea. Urgh I am always ravenous in the mornings and I get really grouchy if I don't get fed within half an hour of waking up.



I have been having cravings for cod fish for the longest time (since Nadaman actually) and psst, this wasn't your ordinary grilled fatty fish. I was expecting a competent slice of firm fatty cod fish and I did receive that, plus a blanket of miso mayo that browned beautifully under the griller.



The savoury rich miso mayo and almost-bouncy cod flesh paired off handsomely, as if they were the Homecoming King and Queen of prom.

I love the size of Tatsuya's nigiris. They were the ideal pop-into-your-mouth nuggets that squished against the sweet rice mounds in my mouth and I also happen to think they have one of the best fish-to-rice ratios. Well of course, I would never (say that aloud: NEVER) no to a larger slice of fish but this dainty being would do for now.



Both sets came with chawanmushi, miso soup and fruits. The watermelons, pear and miso soup were pretty much similar to the rest of the pack; but the chawanmushi, while ingredient-less, was so silky, I had difficulty keeping it on my wooden spoon.

After which, we popped over to next door PS Cafe at Paragon for dessert - cheddar crust apple pie with vanilla ice cream.

I got to admit I'm not the biggest fan of apple pies because cinnamon's not my thing and I happen to think MacDonald's deep fried abnormality is -gulp- pretty good. Hey cut me some slack, it's deep-fried!



Anyway this apple pie is probably not "what grandma used to make"- instead of your usual buttery crust, the folks at PS Cafe added grated cheddar into the crust, resulting in a savoury deep-dish pie.

Yawn we love you grandma but we need variety too.

I can't quite put my finger on it because it sort of works but doesn't. Although Diana and I both agreed that the addtional lemon rind came on too strongly, I think this ultimately kind of works because the robust cheddar added a little pizazz.

In fact, without the ice cream, this would have made an ideal 'breakfast/brunch' dish. Just imagine with with a wafu-dressed salad side... Hey tt could work, right?

Bakerzin, Paragon

Nothing describes the importance of context more aptly than Bakerzin at Paragon.

On my own or with friends, Bakerzin is not somewhere I would choose to spend my time or dough. To me, it has several things not exactly going for it.

It has an identity crisis- It is a French pastry / dessert cafe that offers Japanese-infused local dishes such as ramen and braised pork belly. Go figure.

Its supposedly-signature cakes and desserts borderline on so-so... Isn't this part where I start to swoon? Nope, no reaction there.

Ok, I know I'm really nit-picking here but the openness of the adjourning sitting area kind of bugs me too.

However when a good friend Zee suggested Bakerzin for dinner, I dropped my initial hesitations and sped over as soon as I ended work. Although I still have my reservations about their hot meals, their cakes offer a glimmer of hope.


Sweet Pleasure

Out of all the cakes, I enjoyed Sweet Pleasure the most. A respectable copy of Pierre Hermé 'Plaisir Sucré,' the layers of hazelnut praline dacquoise, Jivara milk chocolate ganache and chocolate mousse met to create an interplay of crisp-smooth textures. For me, it reminded me of Nutella with rice crisps- which is never a bad thing.



Strawberries halves studded the pistachio butter cream, bounded firmly by two thin almond sponge sheets that had been soaked in strawberry liquor. The Fraisier was interesting as the nutty scent of pistachios cushioned the tanginess of the strawberries.



The Mille Feuille is a puff pastry classic filled with vanilla custard cream.

Imagine water split over a thin stack of papers and -horrors- the papers get 'glued' to each other. That was how the puff pastry felt like though you have to pretend paper is edible in the first place. What I'm trying to say is the puff pastry films were clamped tightly to each other, missing out on the lightness and 'shatter' effect.

Still it was a messy pastry, loosing its pretty darlingness as soon as the forks dived in.



Taste-wise, it was alright. The custard cream could have been more mousse-y... The vanilla scent stronger... it might have been less than heavenly but I still finished up whatever is on the plate. Sigh, when it comes to pastries, there is no such thing as a 'pause' or 'stop' button in my system.



No blowing out of candles or Olympic torch to light but Zee, the birthday girl had the honors of piercing through the molten chocolate cake.

The first glimpse of oozing molten chocolate never fails to make me smile. I believe I might have my first molten chocolate cake at Bakerzin years ago and to give them some credit, it is still incredibly pleasurable. Yes, this chocolate dessert may be ubiquitous but I would be mad to dismiss it on grounds of that.


the birthday girl

Maybe I was in an exceptionally good mood... Maybe because it was Friday... Maybe I was blinded by the good company of my girlfriends but Bakerzin was better than expected.

Tea at Marmalade Pantry

I left Nadaman ravenous.

Everything was prettily presented but the portions, oh the portions! It felt like being put on Nicole Richie's diet, even though I'm sure new Mummy wouldn't touch the rice.

After lunch, Yang and I practically marched down to Marmalade Pantry to get our sweet fix. I toyed with the idea of getting something more substantial like their beef burger but my sweet tooth eventually convinced me otherwise- and I pretty much do whatever my sweet tooth tells me to do.

For the benefit of Yang who is a Marmalade-Pantry-Sticky-Toffee-Pudding virgin, we ordered that and a chocolate truffle cake because I could feel the hunger-induced dizziness set in so I needed chocolate fast.



I don't Yang would ever be able to look at the sticky toffee pudding the same way again. It's quite a curse really because once you've had this sticky toffee pudding, nothing esle ever quite measures up. Other cafes may try hard to replicate something similar or yield their own creation but the truth is no other pudding would be able to substituting this warm toffee-soaked sponge cushion, which tastes almost insane with vanilla bean ice cream.



Marmalade's slice begins and ends with chocolate.

Like the Gettys and Rockefellers of this world, it cries, 'Don't hate me for being rich'. It is huge enough to share between two, which is purrrrfect if you are on The Atkin- no wait, Aiken Diet.

It is a statement on its own, punctuated with an exclamation mark. If you have never had chocolate truffle cake before, I say get acquainted with it (and fast) at either Cedele Bakery Depot or Marmalade Pantry.

Nadaman, Shangri-La Hotel

Recently my elder sister returned from Hong Kong for a week and she took us to Nadaman at Shangri-La Hotel for lunch. Though they had a rather extensive Set Lunch menu and a Weekend Special Menu, I decided to go with the Mini Kaiseki.

Kaiseki is a meal obsessed with etiquette as timing, presentation, and tableware are as highly regarded as the food itself. The Japanese haute cuisine usually has stiff criteria to adhere to but I guess this being lunch, it was a fairly casual affair.

The 7-course lineup was incredibly light; save for one dish, the other dishes were simply prepared, perhaps to reflect the fuss free nature of summer.

Appetizer

To get things started, we worked our way up the flavour continuum slowly with two appetizers, a mini cube of peanut mousse and kinjisou vegetables lightly boiled with dashi sauce.

Seemingly innocuous at first, the curd-like peanut mousse bore an unmistakable nutty earthy flavour that lingered over the kinjisou vegetables.


Soup

A bowl of clear soup arrived shortly thereafter, filled with 2 incredibly chewy prawn balls and vegetables.


Sashimi

Sashimi was included within the menu and I was given two kinds of sashimi -maguro and hamachi; though they weren’t my favourite fish (salmon and meikajiki), both were sufficiently fresh.


Simmered dish

I was all ready for our simmered dish when it arrived. A deep fried pumpkin cake stuffed with minced chicken, partially submerged in brown starchy sauce. I loved this dish as the cake felt delicately bread crumbed and fried, and sweetness of the pumpkin was plain outstanding.


Ebi tempura

My sister's weekend special menu included tempura and I stole a bite of her prawn tempura that had a light wispy fritter coating.

Grilled dish

After the delectable pumpkin cake, a teriyaki-glazed grilled yellow jack was served, accompanied by a thumb-sized grilled eggplant that had been smeared with miso paste. The yellow jack was a very meaty white fish but when it comes to the grill, I like my oily-omegea-filled fish like cod and mackerel.


Rice ensemble

Almost towards the end, I was given a rice dish. Simmered baby sardines stirred through steamed rice, served with sancho soya sauce, miso soup and pickles; by then, I was started to get really hungry and I wolfed the rice down in mere minutes.


Dessert

For dessert, the pleasantly light and savory cheese mousse was teased silly by the tangy raspberry sauce.

If you are looking for something more substantial, go for the Weekend Special Menu, which has chawanmushi, sushi, assorted tempura, teppenyaki, a rice/ noodle dish and fruits. The service at Nadaman was competent though short of the attentiveness and refinement kaiseki calls for. While this mini kaiseki felt like a prelude to real lunch, kaiseki is an experience I’m keen to replicate- as long as I have a cheeseburger waiting for me at the end.

Iggy's, The Regent

4th best restaurant in Asia...The only restaurant in South-east Asia to be on the World's 100th Best Restaurants list for three consecutive years.

Like the word ‘China’, ‘Iggy’s’ is a 5-letter word that could spin off a debate.

Wow. Exceptional. Underwhelmed. Overhyped. Overpriced.

The continuum of reactions is well-covered by Iggy’s.

Which also goes to prove that these days you can't trust anybody but yourself. Regardless of what Igg-groupies or naysayers proclaim, I knew I had to experience Iggy's for myself. When I realized Iggy's had raised the price of its set lunch menu from $45 to $55, my first thought was, 'Shiiites, better visit before they raise prices again...'

Take for my word for it, my dear reader. It is only a matter of time before the Michelin or Miele guide comes crashing onto our shores, giving them yet another excuse-reason-whatever to increase their prices.

My fellow intern Gerald and I decided to make Iggy’s our Pay-Day-Splurge venue. Through blogging, I realized dining with overly-critical people often takes the fun out of eating, thus I really appreciated the fact that Gerald was a great Fine Dining partner, relishing every course to his self-orchestrated symphony of Oohs and Mmms.

As soon as our orders were taken, the bread basket was presented to us promptly and we chose the olive bread roll to go with our olive oil dip.



Warm, tearable bread generously studded with sliced olives.



The amuse bouche of cream of corn cappuccino soup held a lovely surprise for us- a milk chocolate ball that bursts spontaneously in our mouths. Yes it was quite odd at first, very highly unexpected but to expect the unexpected is expected at Iggy’s right?



I’m not making any sense. Onward to my second bread roll, a wand-like baguette that weaved its magic with the same warm, tear-away qualities.

For the appetizer, both of us went for the don’t-order-this-on-first/blind-date squid ink risotto with chargrilled squid. It was awesome. The smokiness of the chargrilled squid cut through the satisfyingly plump beads of the risotto.



Oh my gaw-, I love the risotto. Packed with such richness, it was a small but extremely fulfilling portion. I’m glad each of us ordered a portion as I don’t think we would have wanted to part with any of it. Hey we are friends, not philanthropists.



From Tom Ton, I knew kurobuta could be credibly tender but Iggy’s braised kurobuta cheek made me want to cheer. Yes, it was shredily tender but when you eat it with the onion confit and yolk-burst fried egg, it just feels like comfort food.



The richness of the yolk folded in the flavours of the onion confit and braised kurobuta. Oh yeah, I have a thing for browned crisp rims of fried eggs. Hmm, something to do with an overweight childhood and a very unhealthy diet.

I must admit even without the truffles, this dish was extremely pleasing. It was my first time with sliced truffles and oddly enough, they tasted milder than they smelt.



I ate my kurobuta to the soundtrack of Gerald's MMM-ing. He went for the wagyu beef burger with white truffle sabayon. To be honest, I would have found it hard to gain gratification from minced wagyu beef but hey, the guy loves it, I’m not about to question his taste.

The burger came with an unceremonious 4 thick cut fries, maybe about the size of 16 skinny fries. Naturally with such a small burger, it doesn't make sense to pile on the fries- then again, I would choose 'pile of fries' over 'sense' any day. Gerald quote-and-unquote isn’t a “potato person” so I had the privilege of tasting one potato-ey cuboid.



For dessert, Gerald scored a light and refreshing treat with the Champagne Jelly with sorbet and elderflower foam.

On the other hand, my French Toast seemed like a walk through the playground and it was obvious that whoever created this dessert had fun doing so.

Left in the picture is a shot glass containing iced mocha and whipped cream, and I was presented with a bubble-tea-straw to suck in the cocoa crisp balls, which were still crunchy despite being submerged in the coffee. It was like the perfect fusion of bubble tea, Starbucks and cocoa pops.



Although the menu stated maple ice cream, the ice cream tasted ‘coffee’ to me. One of the three follwing situations could have happened:
1. the menu had a typo mistake
2. the kitchen had ran out of maple ice cream and served me the Java ice cream instead
3. the iced mocha had completely overwhelmed the maple-ness.

It was awful or anything but coffee ice cream on top of iced mocha… Caffeine Overload Alert. The only thing preventing me from bouncing off the walls was perhaps the heaviness of the carbs settling in.

Leaning sturdily over the sugar-crusted pan-fried bread cube was a chocolate cylinder crumb filled with chocolate cream.

When the waiter kindly asked if we would like coffee or tea, I answered ‘coffee’ without thinking. Clearly without thinking for my brain had completely failed to register my coffee-on-coffee situation seconds before.

It didn’t help that the Lavazza coffee was majorly strong- 1.5 packets of Equal sugar later, I left my coffee half-drunk, my head throbbing from too much caffeine.



I was actually very full after lunch and I think we can establish by now that I’m not a small eater. The tasting portions were sufficient as each dish was extremely rich and intense with flavour.

Iggy's might seem hoity-toity but it is in fact rather approachable… Er, I’m talking about the ambience, not the price tag. Lunch at Iggy's felt like dining in someone's dining room, albeit phishy-poshy designer-styled dining room. Attentive but unobtrusive service, unexpected flavours and most importantly, good company made Iggy's one heck of a delightful dining experience.

Happy 900th Post!

One Rochester, Rochester Park

love the ambience

I’m not going to pretend that I was immune to the ambience. The gorgeous leafy foliage against the black and white colonial house was enough to make me excuse the overpriced tapas.


my Nutty Buddy

As night draw nearer, Zhu and I parked ourselves on a couple of synthetic rattan armchairs and had the whole area to ourselves. What I really liked was the tranquility it exuded on a Wednesday night. I mean there are some days where you just don’t want to see-and-be-seen, this was one of them- I didn’t even care if someone saw me slumming in my seat.


rochester platter

The gastrobar specialises in tapas and we had the Rochester platter, made up of (furthest in the picture) wings & drumlets, pork crackles, shitake mushrooms and crab cakes.


pork crackles

In order of memorability:

The pork crackles packed into a shallow pool of kecap manis, piled with fresh chilis and nasty stringy bits that you get at Chinese banquet dinners. Nasty stringy bits aside, the pork crackles were gooood. Yeah, good with 4 ‘O’s for that drawn out sensational effect.

I’m guessing the fat and skin probably out-ratioed the meat but darkness offered its blanket of ignorance, letting me indulge in those crackling squidgy bits with little restraint.


crab cakes

The crab cakes arrived spiffily bronzed and tan, drenched in Thai sweet chili dressing. They were very good but would have been ‘darn awesome’ had it not been for the dressing-induced sogginess that set in after a while.


crab cakes

Breaking open a crab cake and seeing the fibrous crabby threads was like discovering a Lucida® in a Tiffany box- sure the robin blue box is pretty, but it’s what’s inside that matters.


drumlets and wings

Deep-fried and coated with ketchupy sauce, spice purists would probably scoff at the inappropriately-named “hot & spicy wings & drumlets”. As tapas, they were a little tricky to maneuver (hey I might have been “slumming in my seat” but I’m not about to use my fingers anytime soon). They weren’t bad, I would even describe them as ‘tasty but not very exciting’. As home party food or midnight binging snack, they would have fulfilled the job requirements very nicely but as chic tapas, nehhh.

As for the deep fried shitake mushrooms with mayonnaise, the whole tempura-batter-and-mayonnaise formula was rather forgettable; for some reason, they tasted unnaturally juicy or rather, wet. Shudder.


bad foie gras, bad

Zhu absolutely cannot resist foie gras- at least now I know I’m not first in line to hell, so we ordered the foie gras starter that served with a caramelized plum, on top of a brioche toast.

I had issues with the foie gras.

The caramelized plum was pleasant enough but the brioche toast was sliced too thinly. One would normally bank on the suitably cushy comfort of the brioche to balance the richness of the foie gras; for our dish, a plain white store-bought toast could have substituted the brioche and it wouldn’t have made a difference. However, what was hard to swallow (pun totally intended) was the foie gras itself.

The foie gras itself was gamier than usual and possessed a texture that … let’s just say someone left it in the pan for too long and the liver was rendered dry beyond hope.


the offending piece of foie gras

It was unacceptable. Foie gras is supposed to taste like melted butter but this offensive innard tasted like a jerky.

I focused on my ABC*** look -facial features centralized, eyebrows drawn in and lips pursed- ready to send it back; however our bespectacled waiter was most accommodating and apologetic, and snarky behavior would have sent me right to the front of queue for hell.

***ABC being ‘Alpha-Biatch Customer’ and not, ‘American-Born Chinese’. Remember not to concentrate too hard; you are trying to channel Miranda Priestley, not Derek “Magnum” Zoolander.


second chance

Nonetheless we sent it back, only to receive another one marginally better. By then, we learnt that no matter how many tries it took, the kitchen probably wouldn’t get it right- not tonight at least.

Lesson of the day: Foie gras should never be order at One Rochester.



Done with novelty, we hopped off to oldie-but-goodie Island Creamery for dessert. Zhu settled for a cookies & cream scoop but I was after a pie-or-cake-something.

There was an inner struggle in my heart caused by the pork crackles. No, I wasn’t having a cardiac arrest. The mud pie was such a tease but the thought of polishing of that hefty slice after pork crackles was enough to make my heart beg for time-out.

Be still, my heart.

I settled for the Nutty Buddy ice cream cake, which on hindsight doesn’t seem any better as a layer of crunchy peanut butter and chocolate drizzle topped the cookies & cream ice cream cube.

But ah whatever… As soon as it hit room temperature, the chocolate sauce and peanut butter melted decadently over the cookie-crumb-filled base, sealing in my love for ice cream desserts.

Canelé Pâtisserie Chocolaterie, Shaw Centre

I met up with Shermeen for brunch at Canele, Shaw Centre.

I realised as one gets older, it becomes harder to make good friends. It does seem like these days, noone really bothers with friendships anymore and relationships seem to be more about the perks or for "networking purposes". Given my tendency to shy away from meeting new people, I really take comfort in the fact that I've known most of my close friends since primary and secondary school.

Yet strangely enough, I've only known Sherms since March this year but it really didn't take long to find out she's a real sweetheart- a 'keeper' in my books.



Thanks to Sherms who was game enough to try anything, I moved out of my club-sandwich-comfort zone. One of our mains was the Croque Madame, which had 2 thick slices of homemade pain de mie layered with ham and Swiss Gruyère cheese, and baked till the ham, cheese and toast formed a dearly bond.

What made this croque 'madame', as opposed to 'monsieur' was a fried egg whose yolk was just begging to be pierced so that it could burst out of its semi-permeable membrane and drape all over the sandwich.



Unless you are one of those who sing sonnets about carbonara or cream sauce, I recommend sharing it. I found it rich and heavy but even if I was going to feel sick later, it was totally worth it. Here's a little advice: You got to be selective about who you share this with, like how because I don’t fancy the yolk running amok, Sherms gleefully claimed the yolk half.



I've always thought of crepes as desserts that taste best with obscene amounts of sugar and chocolate. However by the time we were done with Canele’s smoked salmon crepe, I felt as if someone had lifted the blinkers and introduced me to a whole new world of savoury crepes.



Unlike paper-napkin varieties that supermarkets sell, Canele’s crepe was crisp on the sides but inside, the crepe softened beneath the red onions, capers and dill cream cheese. Crap, now I’m in this savoury-crepe phase and I can’t think of anywhere other than Out of The Pan that does savoury crepes. Help!

Although we were quite stuffed, Sherms mentioned, “I don’t think anyone leaves Canele without having dessert right?”

Oh my, you speak Indulgence! So do I... Amen.

After an intense ingredient-by-ingredient analysis of all the crepes, we settled on the Nougatine, the Nadia Comaneci of ice cream / crepe desserts.

Nutella, nougatine ice cream, salty caramel, caramelized filo and vanilla crème chantilly.

In other words: 10. 10. 10. 10. 10.



This was my second Nougatine crepe in a week but it was every bit as delectable. Absence may make the heart grow fonder but… presence makes the love last longer.

The new Canele at Shaw Centre is now my default to-go place for brunch and tea since Cedele’s notoriously awful service is as unforgettable as its chocolate truffle cake.


the much-photographed window display