Julian Teoh's Profile
FiftyThree?
Yep, definitely closed, but I think it's reopening after they find a place closer in to the CBD. Not sure if it will necessitate a name change if they do!
Its sous chef is now the chef de cuisine at Saint Pierre, so do head there if you want that style of food.
Looking for a wine recommendation
I think a more robust style of riesling would work well with chicken (and obviously the salmon): perhaps an Alsatian from the likes of Weinbach, or a Jubilee from Hugel?
Pinot gris is also a very good alternative, although many of them do taste of nothing in particular. Again, Alsace such as Weinbach's Cuvee Ste Catherine would be a very good pairing.
Singapore - Brasserie Balzac @ Rendezvous Gallery
Poaching eggs in advance and chilling them? How delightful!
I tried the chef's old venture at The French Kitchen, which wasn't too impressive. I think they were trying to keep their price point low but aiming for something above that. But when you are trying to keep your cost base low, quality (or otherwise) of your raw materials, etc. starts to become telling, and hospitality suffers as well, with their published wine list hopelessly out of date.
I haven't tried Balzac, but on your word, I might stick to db Bistro, which is genuinely excellent, if a little bit overcrowded at times.
Wine Pairing Recommendation Needed
Per goldangl95's recommendation above, do mix it up with whites and reds. We had a few Rhone reds (old Cote Rotie, CdP and Gigondas, and younger generic Cote du Rhone) with a simpler Middle Eastern menu - somewhat like your first three courses plus simple meat kebabs. The wines were good but they overwhelmed our food. With your menu, however, I think they may work very well with tagine and merguez.
A sweet Tokaji (5 /6 puttonyos?) would go wonderfully with the baklava.
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
Thanks klyeoh. I do see your point and sympathise with your viewpoint.
I'm going to call an end to the pork argument here (unless someone wants to start a thread about it, and it won't be me), but I look forward to meeting you at Celestial Court in a couple of months ;)
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
Huiray,
I'm happy to leave it at that, but the reliability of any population stats aside, demographics change and Muslims as a proportion of the population in KL and across the nation are increasing. Separation of areas is a very difficult system to administer, and a very difficult message to get across (per the Singapore experience). That is why so many Malay Muslims I know eat at Banquet food courts (the only 100% halal-certified food court "brand" in Singapore) exclusively when they lunch during the working week.
The excitement in KL about the pork-serving establishments being opened up is partly a function of the prevailing zeitgeist (I'm not going to expand on that but locals will know what I mean), and partly a function of restaurateurs wishing to tap into the growing Malay-Muslim upper/middle class, which has emerged as a significant and big-spending market. OK, I accept that many of the high-profile new openings are pork-free but was that choice made for the owners? No! No one ever put a gun to Max Chin's (Millesime), Roberto Galetti's (Garibaldi) or Beppe de Vito's (Il Lido) head and told them to omit pork from their menus. That was a conscious commercial choice on their part not to alienate a large proportion of the potential market. On any reasonable definition, that is no Tyranny of the Majority.
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
No, "Tyranny of the Majority" is when pork is banned full-stop, as I have said above. There are plenty of restaurants and multi-vendor food courts in KL serving pork, alcohol and a million other things considered haram under Islamic law.
To me, it is more a matter of compromise, not acquiescence. The fact that a majority of the population is not able to enjoy the facilities at a public space may not concern you, but I would like my facilities to be accessible to people regardless of their race, colour or creed. The government is not interfering with what people cook and serve in private premises. If it wishes to impose conditions on applicants who wish to serve their food on a government-owned facility so that the majority of the populace can enjoy those facilities in equal measure, then so be it. I can find my pork elsewhere.
Lameloise: Lunch vs Dinner
Hi Jeremy,
I agree, it is by no means a bad list, and if I was presented a list of that calibre in Singapore or Sydney, I would be thrilled. But in the context of Lameloise being one of the greatest names in arguably the world's greatest wine region, we had our expectations up, and justifiably so, I think. Personally I found the list at Ma Cuisine to be of much more interest, if a little more esoteric.
Lameloise: Lunch vs Dinner
I would, if only because I am reluctant to judge a place based on a single experience of a "cheap" lunch menu. Sadly, we didn't have the choice to really go all out as we were somewhat curbed by logistical arrangements on the day. And there were a few positives food-wise, pastry and sweets for example, to suggest they could properly impress given the chance (and sufficient euros).
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
That is classic - I love it that the manager immediately attributed the "off" taste to the lack of pork!
I think this issue goes far beyond whether or not we make the personal choice of eating halal food on the day. But back onto the food, klyeoh, next time I'm up in KL, let's meet up and I'll take you for dim sum at Celestial Court, although you are forewarned that it is halal! :)
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
I don't think anyone is imposing a theocracy. Contrast Malaysia to other nations where pork and alcohol consumption are banned outright and you might be getting closer to the picture.
It is the mere fact that the majority of the population adheres strictly to the dietary requirements of their faith and will not eat in a place which is not halal. If the government did not put these rules in place, in effect, we would have a situation where the majority of people could not frequent a public space. This applies even to pork-free food served by Muslim vendors in such "non-halal" places because being halal goes well beyond serving pork and involves issues such as intermingling of cutlery, etc.
It's two sides of the same coin. Regardless of what position you take, someone somewhere is going to feel aggrieved.
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
Hmmm...I see where you are coming from, but at the same time, I do appreciate being able to break bread with colleagues, etc. of different faiths. Commercially, as well, it makes sense for the operators given most KL corporates are multi-faith, multi-race places. In Singapore, we had a Muslim colleague who was strictly halal, which limited us to a couple of venues (which we quickly wore out), or she had to miss out altogether, which was a shame.
I tend to take a more catholic approach to these situations, unless the pork characteristics are an absolutely critical component of the dish (the aforementioned turkey bacon "carbonara" is one such travesty). But to take a recent example, we had excellent dim sum at the Sheraton Imperial's Celestial Court and I thought it didn't really lose anything for the want of pork.
Lameloise: Lunch vs Dinner
The lunch menu is 65 euros for three courses, with an extra 10 euros for matching wines, water and coffee. The food on the lunch menu is merely OK. If I had my time all over again, I would go a la carte, although I note a few of the dishes on the current lunch menu are actually on the carte - this was not the case when I visited (late 2011). Anything with pastry in it is highly recommended.
The matching wines (very basic village from Rully) are not particularly good. Sadly for a grand Burgundian table, the wine list lacks old and interesting bottles, so not much consolation is to be found there either.
Kuala Lumpur - Pork Specialities at Ribs by Vintry
Hi klyeoh,
When you say public foodcourts, I presume you mean those owned / operated by the authorities and not the "coffee shop"-style get-ups with multiple hawkers within? Ipoh is pretty much the same as your experience with Penang above, with very large foodcourts serving pork by the shovel-load.
All the same, while I like pork as much as the next Chinese, I must admit that I find the use of the "My manhood is so large I serve nothing but pork" marketing approach to be a little tiresome. Granted it was funny the first couple of times...
A Winemaking Holiday in Burgundy (In Four Parts)
PART 3 OF 4
Dawn is breaking gently upon the Côte de Beaune. Emily and I are on the plateau of the Fretille Hill, enjoying the beautiful vista. Our Lady of Good Hope (Notre Dame de Bonne Espérance) stands beside us, blessing the road to Beaune and the three villages that share the Corton Hill – Pernand-Vergelesses, Aloxe-Corton and Ladoix-Serrigny. The air is bracingly fresh and clean, and not for the first time, I consider chucking it all in for a little writer’s sinecure in the heart of the picturesque countryside.
As we walk back downhill and through the threshold of the domaine, so does Ludovic, bearing a paper bag of baked treats. They are, without doubt, the best croissants and pains au chocolat I have ever tasted, shattering in crisp, buttery flakes as I bite into them. I grin like an idiot as Ludo brews up potent espresso shots to kickstart our systems. It is on such rudimentary fuel that the vignerons of Pernand-Vergelesses run, and a hard day of work is ahead.
***
PZZT! BANG! POW!
Due to the unseasonal warmth (26 degrees and sunny in late September), a plague of drosophiles (vinegar flies) has struck. Working at a winemaking facility, we are at ground zero of droso activity, our flying friends being attracted to anything vaguely fruity or sugary. Ludo has installed a high-voltage mosquito zapper adapted for heavy duty usage, but its glowing blue bars are already encrusted with burnt-on droso corpses. The occasional abrupt sparking noise is the backing track to our days in the cellar.
The winemaking area is a hodge-podge of barrels, machinery and rubber hoses. Our first job today is to assemble an order for Ludo’s friend Michel. Michel has been consulting to Ludo on matters viticultural and as custom dictates, he gets the option (often taken up) of being paid in wine. Ludo puts together a selection, completely unfussed that he is giving Michel an extra 40 euros of wine over a 200 euro bill. The accountant in me wants to alert him to this but wiser counsels prevail; instead I start to wonder when we city folk started to become so calculating in our dealings.
Following the list, I fetch some bottles from storage while Ludo cranks up his capsuling machine. He prints out his labels on his office printer and applies them by hand before boxing the bottles up and leaving them in the unlocked shed for Michel.
In the meantime, Emily is pouring some grapes into a spiral blade crusher, which will break the skins further before the berries are sucked into the wine press to extract the last bits of juice. After pressing, we pack the marc (residue of skins and seeds post-pressing) into large stackable containers, which Ludo moves into his van via forklift. As the van only seats three, the ladies and Ludo sit in the front and I ride steerage with the marc. The faithful Yquem is also there and he eyes me suspiciously. But I don’t only have canine company today; the drosos are here in force and I am afraid to breathe for fear of inhaling a handful of the critters. Yquem is unfussed and seems almost contemptuous of my weakness.
We pull up at the Burgundian equivalent of a municipal garbage dump, but we are not the first ones here today; tonnes of marc (and their droso chaperones) have already been deposited. Showing us how it’s done, Ludo picks up a container, which must weigh at least 40 kilograms fully loaded, and pivoting the weight in his left hand, thrusts the container and its contents over the tip, smashing the container against the edge of the tip to ensure all the marc is disposed of. I can picture this forming part of Rocky’s training regime if he ever went genteel and decided to fight in wine country. “You know marc de Bourgogne, yes? Someone will pick this up later and make alcohol from it”. So the next time you feel tempted to order a snifter of marc de Bourgogne, remember that it has been distilled from what are essentially drosophile sloppy seconds.
On our return, we are crestfallen to see the drosos have attacked the wine press, which is stained with the residue of semi-fermented grape juice. I quickly hose it down, along with a couple of “torpedoes”, effectively colanders which keep any solid matter out when we want to transfer the juice.
All of that heavy lifting has made me hungry, so we break for an early lunch – pain de campagne, reblochon and brie, some sliced tomatoes, and a bottle of Ludo’s 2009 Hospices de Beaune Pommard Cuvée Raymond Cyrot. The wine is superb, with ripe tannins and a spiciness that make it eminently drinkable, but to leave it at that would miss its significance.
The Hospices was founded in 1443 by the then-Chancellor of Burgundy, Nicolas Rolin, to look after the sick and destitute of the area. As demand for its services grew, philanthropists and winemakers supported its work by donating parcels of vineyards to the Hospices. Today, the Hospices vinifies the fruit grown on its holdings and auctions off the new wine on the third Sunday of November to raise funds for the modern hospital. Anyone, winemakers, foreign merchants and even devoted fanboys, are welcome to place their bids.
Ludo’s voice cracks when he talks about his winning bid for a barrel of 2009 Pommard (the wine bears the name of Raymond Cyrot, who donated the source vineyard to the Hospices), the first successful bid in his domaine’s young life. On his badly neglected desk rests a wood-framed Hospices label, at the foot of which is embossed the proud legend: Elevé et mis en bouteille par Ludovic Belin, Negociant-Eleveur à Pernand-Vergelesses. Yes, he’s given a couple of thousand euros to charity but you can see how much it means to him as a winemaker and descendant of winemakers, as if through this act he has become part of a noble tradition of service that has endured for almost 600 years.
In the middle of lunch, the phone rings, and Ludo rushes back into his office with a hitherto unobserved alacrity. The man that walks out is rather more downcast; the old lady with the neighbouring plot has decided not to sell her land this year, so Ludo will need to look elsewhere if he wishes to expand his holdings.
After a few glasses, we are fit only for lighter duties. 2011 hasn’t been the warmest vintage, what with a chilly July and August, so we need to chaptalise to enhance the wine’s alcohol levels. Chaptalisation gets a bad rap, but it is perfectly legal and far more commonplace than often thought, even amongst the crus classés of Burgundy and Bordeaux.
Ludo has three barrels of premium whites fermenting in new-ish oak – the premiers crus Sous Fretille and En Caradeux, and the coveted grand cru Corton-Charlemagne. He brings out his wine thief, essentially an 18-inch pipette, draws out a sample of wine, tells us “This is how we do it”, and takes a massive swig before depositing the remainder in a test tube. We gratefully follow his example, with the richly fruity Sous Fretille our unanimous favourite. Using a sugar testing implement that I can only think of as a buoyant, bobbing thermometer, Ludo works out how much more alcohol he needs over the current potential level and how much sugar he needs to add to produce it. Emily and I weigh out the sugar and feed it to the yeasts via the little plug-hole in each barrel. The wine hisses gratefully as the yeasts awake, sugar-induced, from their slumber.
Next, Ludo wheels out a tall metal box-like machine. “Temperature control”, he explains, before asking me to fit this hose here and join that tube there. After I’m done, my eyes follow the tubes, trying to fathom the wine’s labyrinthine passage. It dawns upon me: red wine is leaving the tank to be heated in the machine, and the warm wine is piped back into the tank. Ludo breaks into a big smile when he sees comprehension dawn in my eyes. “You understand!” he cries, more proud than condescending. But why do you do this? “It’s like a teabag. You get more, how do you say, extraction, when the liquid is warmer. So here, we can get more tannin, more flavour, from the berries”. Before starting the machine though, he tests the wine (taking his customary swig before doing so, of course) to ensure there is no residual sugar remaining. “If there is sugar, it will take on a more caramel flavour at the higher temperature. That will spoil the wine, so we must be sure the sugar fermentation is finished before we can do this”.
To my mind, at least, this explains the more masculine character of Ludo’s reds. In time, they settle down to reveal the enchanting soft fruit of a true Pernand cru, but in their youth, they are more forward and open. In many ways, just like their maker.
As we pack up and hose down the cuverie, a couple of neighbours walk up the hill, bearing bread and saucissons. Not to be outdone, we bring out our fromages, and Ludo cracks open bottles of his Corton-Renardes grand cru and Pommard. The sausages are garlicky, the cheeses are pungent and the wine is excellent. I can barely make out a word of the conversation and the smoke of the cigarettes stings my eyes, but the atmosphere and fellowship is so good and genuine that it barely matters.
After the neighbours wave their farewells, Michel finally turns up to collect his order. Ludo tells him “Wait, I have something for you”. He comes out of the cellar with a bottle of 2009 Côtes de Castillon. A Bordeaux. He pours each of us a glass. Having drunk nothing for the past week except minerally chardonnay and cool climate pinot noir, I feel my system rejecting the deep, dark, oaky wine and start to retch. Across the workbench, Ludo and Michel taste and shake their heads in scorn and pity. “This is SHEET!", Ludo pronounces his considered verdict. “Fecking Bordelais”. Michel nods his agreement. Picture if you can, two grown men, sitting and tasting, cursing in disappointment as if their red-headed stepchild failed, as expected, to live up to even the most modest expectations (and thereby confirming every stereotype of the Burgundian disdain for their Bordelais cousins).
Michel leaves without picking up his order; he knows it’s still going to be there the next time he drops by. Ludo says goodbye and drives back to Beaune. As has become my practice, I sit in the shed to record the happenings of the day. I notice the uncleaned glasses are attracting little swarms of drosos, who are soon drowning in rich Bordeaux goodness.
Well, at least some Burgundians seem to like it.
For full pictures, please visit http://julianteoh.blogspot.com/2012/05/winemaking-holiday-in-burgundy-part-3.html
(To be continued...)
Dijon vs Beaune?
If you are staying at Le Cep, the one-starred Loiseau de Vignes downstairs is also excellent. Lunch is a great deal and the restaurant has enomatic machines dispensing almost a hundred wines by the glass and half-glass. If the weather is good, you can also take lunch in the courtyard.
Dijon vs Beaune?
Dijon was completely torn up when I was there in late September (driving from Beaune just to get my train out from Burgundy, incidentally!); we had a local driving us around and he was completely thrown out by all the barriers and we almost missed our train. Should I be surprised that the work is still carrying on six months later?
If you put a gun to my head, I think I would choose Beaune, even ignoring the Dijon roadworks for a minute. Dijon is obviously a bigger city but the OP is clearly focused on food and I think between the two, Beaune wins by a nose. As above, Hess is an absolute gem and the restaurants are mostly excellent. I'm not sure if the OP is focused on wine, but from Beaune, you have tremendously easy access to the great white wine villages to the south and the (I think vastly underrated) triangle of Pernand-Vergelesses, Aloxe-Corton and Ladoix-Serrigny immediately north.
Wine/menu challenge
Agreed with both jock and ChefJune on this one.
For dessert, I think a rich Alsace gewurztraminer grand cru (Furstentum from Albert Mann or Weinbach) or a gewurztraminer vendange tardive would work well.
the.Dyak - Urban Iban Cooking in Kuching, Sarawak (Malaysia)
the.Dyak is a relatively new Iban restaurant on the fringes of Kuching town. It has attracted rave reviews on TripAdvisor and other media for serving traditional Iban cooking in a smart, air-conditioned environment. So when we were looking for an authentic yet comfortable experience after a few days in the jungle, it seemed like the natural choice.
The main dining room is lit by a series of chandeliers; portraits of traditional Iban life and practices adorn the walls, including pictures of the proprietor Vernon Kepit’s great-grandmother, who was a member of Iban high nobility. The decor is very much a statement of intent – the experience is going to be authentic and personal, albeit recast in a more modern, luxurious environment than one may expect.
The winelist is small, headed by three types of tuak or local rice wine, three whites and seven reds (guests are welcome to bring their own wine for RM70 corkage). The emphasis is clearly on the tuak, which is perfectly fine with me, but I am happy to see that they have eschewed the typical big distributor Aussie and Chilean wines and have instead decided to sell wines that match well with the food (a strikingly novel idea, I know). That they have listed two rieslings (German and Alsatian) and an Alsatian gewurztraminer for the whites elevates them even higher in my estimation.
The menu is divided into vegetables, pork, chicken and tilapia from the Batang Ai River; mains start from around RM18 for meat dishes, and RM30-35 for the tilapia. Relishes go from RM8-12 and desserts range from RM7 to RM12, so you should budget around RM40 plus drinks per head.
Aperitif: Complimentary “Men’s” Tuak
The.Dyak offers a shot of complimentary tuak to first-time visitors. It has a strong green apple flavour and a bracing, cleansing bitterness. Full credit to them for brewing their own tuak; Vernon later tells me that the fermented rice from which the tuak is brewed, the tapai, is served as dessert with vanilla ice-cream.
Main Courses: Jani Kari - three-layered pork simmered in rich curry gravy (RM18); Daun Ubi Randau Guring – sweet potato leaves stir-fried with garlic, dessicated coconut, chillies and dried shrimps (RM10); Tilapia Lempis – garnished with ginger and chillies, wrapped in turmeric leaf and seam-baked Dayak-style (RM30).
The pork curry and greens were excellent, with nice complex flavours layered upon each other. The “three-layered pork”, essentially fatty pork with three layers of meat, fat and skin, is a textural delight. You know the fat kid who always picked out the skin from the braised belly pork at Chinese New Year? Well, that fat kid was me, so you can understand why I am crazy about this dish.
Vernon expressed surprise that we order the tilapia steam-baked, as it is a very subtle flavour. Indeed, it is a little too subtle for my liking. Don’t get me wrong – the fish is supremely fresh and lightly sweet, and its flesh is succulent and moist. However, I have just returned from the jungle and have had the pleasure of jungle-fresh greens harvested and cooked on the same day. In my view, it takes more than just freshness to stand out amongst all the marvellous food available in the area, and I am afraid that this dish simply doesn’t.
Condiments: Pusu Empikau – anchovies stir-fried with pickled durian (RM12); sambal belacan (RM8)
The pusu empikau is amazing - durian has latent spicy notes, and the transformation of durian into tempoyak appears to allow these notes to blossom.
According to Vernon, the Iban believe that sambal pounded with an odd number of chillies is going to be really, really hot. the.Dyak’s version has three normal chillies and a chilli padi; from the Iban perspective, this does not make four, but rather a pair of odd numbers, which Vernon describes this preparation as “napalm”. It wasn’t that hot, but it was suitably delicious and complex.
Bario Rice (RM3 per bowl)
Dessert: Asi Manis Ice Cream (RM7 for two scoops)
Vernon explains that Dayaks normally do not eat dessert, but he had to dream up suitably local-flavoured combinations for guests to finish their meal with. The tapai is like a sweet, alcoholic rice cake, adding a nice adult touch and substance to two scoops of store-bought ice-cream. Good stuff.
Just a word on the service. Vernon is obviously very much on the ball and we were competently looked after by a slender bespectacled waiter (I believe his name was Douglas). Outside of those two, I’m afraid, it becomes a bit of a struggle. A Dutch couple with three young kids at the next was put through a wringer. When the father asked for “appetisers”, the waiter directed him to the “relishes” section, where pungent delights such as enchalu (fermented shrimp with chilli), sambal belacan and pusu empikau awaited; delicious as they are, they are no one’s idea of a Western appetiser. We were then treated to the spectacle of the poor chap shovelling a teaspoonful of enchalu into his mouth, before spluttering and downing his beer in one gulp and his daughter’s 100Plus in a second.
We had a similar though rather less painful brush. After we paid our bill, Vernon came up to us to tell us that the ice cream was on the house, a courtesy he extends to all first-time visitors, to which I responded that we had paid for it in full. Of course, he offered to refund the money but I politely declined and assured him that we appreciated the gesture regardless. This suggests to me that the front-of-house is having some communication issues, and that guidance and instructions are not being followed through.
Our total bill came up to RM109 (no service charge and government tax is added), which was very reasonable considering we ordered some RM20 in beverages. Overall, a very worthwhile experience and a great way to experience the native cuisine in comfortable surroundings. A bit of work on the service and the.Dyak may well become a place worth going out of your way to visit.
More photos at http://julianteoh.blogspot.com/2012/05/blog-post.html
Kuala Lumpur - Swine heaven at S.Wine
I was told that Chiaroscuro on Changkat BB served a truly authentic carbonara, and that its chef Andrea felt very strongly (to put it mildly) about liberties being taken with his beloved cuisine.
However, it appears to be closed and Andrea is now at Il Lido, which is halal. And sure enough, it does not feature any version of carbonara on the menu, turkey bacon or otherwise.
Michel Sarran - A World Gourmet Summit Dinner, 28 April 2012 [Singapore]
Thanks p0lst3r. Perhaps the moderators could add the word "Singapore" to preface the title. Sorry, that was my fault entirely.
I do agree that it can be fun having a guest chef around. However, I tend to draw the line at large banquet-style events when your starred chef is serving 300-odd covers. I think in those circumstances, whatever advantage you get by having a top chef cooking your food is pretty much cancelled out.
Do you know if Aizpitarte pulls off that same gag (sorry I can't bring myself to call it food) in Paris? What drew me in to the Sarran dinner was that the menu was composed exclusively of dishes from the dinner carte and degustation menu at his restaurant. Indeed, the dishes are actually on his restaurant's website at the moment, so it is a true reflection of the "season" back at his home base.
Australia's Most Expensive Wine - 2007 Parawa Estate Ingalalla Grand Reserve at US$1,150
Hi Fowler,
No disagreement from me there. I think Grange and Hill of Grace are quite consistent in terms of price appreciation, but there were a few ink-black Aussie wines made in the last couple of decades which won high-90s scores from Robert Parker. It would not surprise me if there has been significant "depreciation" from the producer's Parker-induced mark-ups since then.
Yet with only 2,400 bottles of the Parawa being sold, it doesn't take that many buyers to snap up the entire stock,and I learned that they only plan to make the next vintage of Ingalalla in 2015, presumably to restrict supply and enhance the "exclusivity" of the label. He may well have hit upon a golden marketing strategy!
Michel Sarran - A World Gourmet Summit Dinner, 28 April 2012 [Singapore]
I must admit I had misgivings about attending this dinner with Michel Sarran, chef and co-owner of the two-Michelin starred Restaurant Michel Sarran in Toulouse. Firstly, I tend to be wary of visiting chefs doing food festivals, on the basis that they end up cooking in unfamiliar kitchens with an unfamiliar kitchen team whose members are unfamiliar with the chef’s food. Secondly, he was being hosted in My Humble House, a Chinese restaurant. Thirdly, I found out that Sarran only arrived yesterday from France, meaning he was probably suffering a mean case of jetlag – hardly conducive to churning out precise, star-worthy French food.
Well, put all of those worries out of your mind, because Sarran is here for real and he means business.
A common complaint about the Michelin-starred chefs is that their cooking has no sense of place, that it is a globalised cuisine that you could find anywhere in the world. Sarran’s cooking is international in its influence but equally grounded in the ingredients and terroir of his native South-West France, rich yet light, and unapologetically packed with flavour.
With only a six-course menu being offered, food service starts pretty much immediately you sit down, and in the absence of an amuse bouche, it was semi-amusing to see people already on their dessert at 8 pm. They obviously came here for an early dinner, and weren’t expecting to see that a French chef had taken over the kitchen!
First Entrée: Warm soup of duck foie gras from South West of France, Belon oyster (No. 2)
Great start, but it struck us as being a little heavy. That said, you really can’t fault the execution, and the gentle warmth of the soup had set the oyster without cooking it through, allowing its creamy minerality to stand out from the rich foie gras.
Second Entrée: Roasted Norwegian scallops, riso pasta cooked like a risotto, old mimolette and Hokkaido sea urchin
Scallops were well-cooked and seared. The riso pasta was a highlight, bravely al dente and sitting on a gorgeous, creamy sauce based on vieux mimolette.
Fish Course: Roasted sole fillet with black sesame, yellow lemon butter cappelletti stuffed with “Pas de l’ Escalette” cheese.
Killer stuff. The “pas de l’Escalette”, a cow’s milk cheese from Larzac, was mixed with basil before being stuffed into the cappelletti pasta, giving the dish a very nice fraîcheur. Cleverly, Sarran appeared to be trying to mix in little quantities of cheese, a crucial ingredient in South Western French cooking), which as a major component may not be appreciated by the Asian palate, and certainly not in a Chinese restaurant! Strictly, the pasta was more of a cappello; given its size, it hardly qualified as a “little hat”! An arc of oyster and butter sauce added a smoky, caramelly meatiness to the fish.
Meat course: Pigeon from Mont Royal in two services - breast fried in kadaïf in ink sauce, stewed thigh with peas fondant and Spanish ham.
Mont Royal is an artisanal pigeon farm not far from Toulouse, and I was very glad that Sarran made it a point to import these headline ingredients from the same sources as he uses for his own restaurant. The lightly-gamy breast meat was still pink and tender, retaining its juices and iron-y deliciousness. The kadaïf pastry was crispy and only slightly oily. Swipe the threads of kadaïf into the ink sauce, and you get something which I could only describe as being like beehoon on steroids. Moist yet with a residual crunch, unctuous with the rich, salty flavour of the sauce and the gamy juices of the pigeon. The thigh is similarly impressive, although much gamier as you would expect. The peas are burstingly fresh and vibrant (check out that colour) and nubbins of “Spanish ham” added spicy complexity and a chewy texture. At various points while consuming this, I found myself craving a glass or two of rustic burgundy. Another triumph.
Pre-dessert: Apple foam with cinnamon ice-cream.
Oh my God. He did it. I don’t know how, but he did it (with apologies to Doc Brown). The liquid which was foamed up, must be one of the most intense, apple-y flavours I have ever tasted. It is the definition of apple, the very quintessence of that often pedestrian fruit. Ice cream was fine, and what I thought was a little craquante of fresh curd cheese added texture and interest, and a little light sourness to balance off against the sweet apple.
Dessert in two services: Tarbais beans in a foam of old rum and coconut milk; marrons glacés glacés.
Strangely, the first service was a bit of a trip down memory lane for me, putting me very much in the mind of a refined bubur cha cha. Coconut milk, which can often be creamy and heavy, is cleverly given a lighter application as a foam, and the sweet bean paste adds nice deep bass notes. The marrons glacés glacés (frozen candied chestnut) dessert is the only dish of the evening that I don’t quite get. It’s pleasant and all, but didn’t move me much beyond that.
You’ve had the good news, now I need to set out the downsides in case you think I’ve gone soft. The bread rolls were fluffy and inconsequential, clearly brought in from some feckless producer of industrial pap. There was also no butter or oil to go with the bread, which again begs the question: why is a French chef of any calibre being hosted at a Chinese restaurant when it lacks the basic accoutrements to complete a proper European dining experience? And the least you could do is offer tea or coffee to complete a $200 six-course tasting menu. Service, however, was excellent, and particular credit must go to our headwaiter Paul Lui for taking such great care of us.
Sarran came around later to say hi, and he was very pleasant and polite, although he was clearly struggling with lack of sleep. More than ever, I was filled with admiration at how he managed to produce food at this level on the first night. Now, I can’t discount that he was pulling out all stops for the F&B industry VIPs and personalities around us, which included Tung Lok boss Andrew Tijoe, celebrity chef Susur Lee of pony-tailed fame, at-Sunrice CEO Christophe Megel and the Big Kaese Himself, Peter Knipp. But as the kitchen team gets more used to the dishes, you should see standards at least maintained over the next few days, and that is more than enough reason to spend your hard-earned here. Sarran’s only around until 1 May, so make sure you get in before it’s too late.
Sarran is fond of saying that he is a “seller of pleasure”, and that he aims to stimulate emotion with his cooking. Tonight, happiness and ecstasy were the words in our heads. And with them, an invitation to guests to experience his true vision at his flagship in Toulouse.
(Being an unknown scribbler, I did what everyone else had to do and paid for this meal in full - more photos at: http://julianteoh.blogspot.com/2012/04/michel-sarran-world-gourmet-summit.html)
Australia's Most Expensive Wine - 2007 Parawa Estate Ingalalla Grand Reserve at US$1,150
Hi Fowler,
I haven't tried the recent Penfolds and Torbreck launches so cannot comment on them. Certainly, the secondary market believes some of these wines, such as old vintages of Penfolds Grange and Hill of Grace, are worth the price but that's a question of supply and demand. We can't blame the maker if he wants to appropriate a larger profit for himself in subsequent vintages, if he knows his wine is going to be re-sold for multiples of his original asking price!
However, I agree that for new launches with no pedigree, setting such ambitious prices will distort expectations and outside of its value as a curio and its exclusivity, we need to raise the issue of the wine's intrinsic value, i.e. drinkability! And how many wines can claim to be US$1,150 drinkable?
Australia's Most Expensive Wine - 2007 Parawa Estate Ingalalla Grand Reserve at US$1,150
I had a remarkable dinner last week at Au Jardin in the Singapore Botanic Gardens, at which the following wines were served:
· 1999 Domaine Leflaive Bienvenues-Bâtard-Montrachet;
· 2001 Domaine Armand Rousseau Chambertin-Clos de Bèze;
· 2007 Parawa Estate Ingalalla Grand Reserve; and
· 1982 Château Trotanoy.
Can you spot the odd one out?
Funnily enough, the Ingalalla was the “hook” which persuaded me to attend the dinner. According to my host, his friend WM (who is the publisher of a prominent wine magazine in Australia and New Zealand) had turned his hand to winemaking and was producing some very interesting wines, for which he was now looking for importers/distributors in Asia. I had expected that more of his wines (and none of the French) would have been served at dinner, but on occasion, fortune does favour the brave.
WM told us he set out to make and market Australia’s most expensive wine, period, and yes, that includes the recently launched 2008 Penfolds Bin 620 (A$1,000) and Torbreck's 2005 "The Laird" (A$700). The Ingalalla, a Bordeaux blend from WM's Parawa Estate in South Australia’s Fleurieu Peninsula, has an "ex-cellar" launch price of A$1,100, around US$1,150 at last reckoning. With a production per vintage of only 2,400 bottles and having spent 4 years in a mix of new and seasoned French oak, its assemblage is similarly interesting, with its major constituents being around 35% cabernet sauvignon and 30% petit verdot.
In the middle of WM’s pitch, I felt a slight sense of concern about the following:
· He was not going to market this wine in Australia at all, the reason being his magazine reviewed thousands of wines annually and he felt he had an unavoidable conflict of interest if the wine was available on the Aussie market.
· His target was going to be Singapore, Hong Kong and China. Indeed, he mentioned that the vertical design of the label (the name “Parawa” being spelt vertically down the bottle) was partly intended to mirror the traditional style of rendering Chinese script.
· He had a panel of four Australian Masters of Wine blind-taste the Ingalalla on two separate occasions, along with the likes of Lafite, Latour, Haut-Brion, Mouton-Rothschild and Margaux from the 2007 vintage. WM said the Ingalalla came first on one occasion and second last on the other, defeating only the Margaux. According to WM, he was not claiming that his wine was better than the French, but merely that it could hold its own in such company.
· Objectively speaking, he was aiming for a very elevated (obscene?) price point and relying heavily on the exclusivity factor. WM even had his figures downpat over how much rarer and more exclusive the Ingalalla was than the great names of Bordeaux, such as less than half the production of Le Pin and 1/40th that of Haut-Brion.
I have my views on each of the above points but I leave it to you to be the judge. I note only that the Bordeaux blind-tasting results should not be taken at face value, in that the Ingalalla’s competitors were all notoriously slow-maturing wines from a very mediocre vintage.
The verdict? The Ingalalla is a decent wine, perhaps even a good wine, but it is not by any measure a great wine. Pleasant enough bouquet albeit with a volatile, almost onion-y edge which thankfully blew away later on, dusky fruit which struggled to make its presence felt over the oak, sturdy acidity (petit verdot influence?) but not much by way of tannins, and a smooth, medium-length finish. For me, the lack of tannin and fruit casts doubt over its longevity. I note WM did not suggest that this was a flawed bottle in any way.
WM said he would have preferred to have let the wine air overnight, so I need to give it the benefit of the doubt on that point as we decanted it only 2 hours before dinner. However, WM did tell us that he had tasting appointments earlier that day, so he had the opportunity to present the wine to the restaurant and ask them to decant it well beforehand had he so wished. As three members of our party were high-profile members of the wine trade (and potential distributors of the Ingalalla) and another was a prominent wine journalist (i.e. NOT me), I would suggest that this was not too much trouble to ensure that the wine was showing at its best.
The problem here is that when you set out with the express aim of selling Australia’s priciest wine, people’s expectations are built up, and that is normal human behaviour. We also compare price outliers against our personal tasting benchmarks, and that is also normal human behaviour. I had the pleasure of the 1996 Château Grand-Puy-Lacoste last Saturday - a great wine and drinking beautifully at the moment - for a mere fraction of the cost. For a New World comparison, I felt all of the Colgin wines (see here: http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/839331) were far superior to the Ingalalla, albeit for a larger fraction of the Ingalalla’s launch price than the G-P-L but still well under 50%.
I will set out my concerns as to his Asian focus. Yes, Asians (speaking generally, and definitely not in my specific case!) are going through a period of unprecedented prosperity and are increasingly spending large amounts of money on luxury products such as wine. However, they tend to shell out the big bucks either because (a) they are buying a prestigious label which becomes a conversation piece or for “face”/status reasons; (b) the wine has an excellent track record as an investment and will appreciate in value; or (c) they love the wine so much they will stop at nothing to get it. Whatever you think of Penfolds’ strategy in launching its Bin 620 in Shanghai, it could at least rely on the history and success of Grange as Australia’s foremost icon wine. Yet the Ingalalla cannot tick boxes (a) and (b); made by a mostly unknown maker (how many of you have heard of Parawa Estate before this?), this is its first vintage and hasn’t even been released commercially.
As to box (c), there is no accounting for personal taste, so I would invite the reader to taste it and make up his/her own mind as to the merits of this wine. That is, if you have a cool US$1,150 to shell out for a bottle.
The best dishes at L'Ambroisie, Arpège ect.?
I would consider doing dinner or a la carte at Pierre Gagnaire instead of its lunch menu. While it was excellent on all counts, I think many people people expect something more from Gagnaire (surprising combinations, a little "shock value", etc.) and our lunch menu in late December 2011 was a little short on those.
Best (dishes) of Singapore for first time visitor
Thanks for mentioning Founder. I live near the Balestier area and love Founder's but was wondering why no one in the local press ever mentions it as being one of Singapore's top BKTs. It seems to be all about Ng Ah Sio...
Cured meats and wine... what wines do you drink?
A good dry sparkling wine like cava or champagne will help to cut the grease. I suspect its palate-cleansing effect will also work quite well with spicy meats.
A four-square pinot noir (such as a Pommard) also works quite well with gamier, non-spicy sausages.
One day in Reims/Champagne - suggestions?
It's around 1 km outside the centre, so may be just beyond comfortable walking distance. I walked there for lunch after a morning of sightseeing and it took around 15 minutes.
Regardless, it is an excellent and generous table. When I booked, I was slightly in two minds whether I should have gone to Les Crayeres (then under Didier Elena) instead, but three courses and countless champagnes and desserts later, I was in no doubt that I had made the right choice.
Alsace
I should add I would only take the private appointment route if you are intending to buy / are open to buying wine. While I doubt they will take offence if you don't buy after a walk-in tasting, private appointments will often be with the proprietor or a member of the family as Alsace wineries are often small, family-run affairs.
Some of the most sought-after tastings, such as Weinbach and Zind-Humbrecht, accept visitors by appointment only, so it may be worth checking in advance once you have made your picks.
