kitchen tour: intermezzo

It's been ages since I visited the gut-busting, eye-popping evening otherwise known as the seven course tasting menu - if you'd like to catch up on where we left off, please click here. And now, here we go...


Betwixt and between, the intermezzo is a literally a showstopper held in between courses. This kitchen - as tradition goes - likes to serve a sorbet as a little palate cleanser.

Why the pit stop in your epic multi-course tasting menu? To give you (and your poor, overstimulated belly) a breather, for one, and well, sometimes it's kind of fun to show off.

Dishes made of bamboo boats and leaves.



Diced cape gooseberries in a touch of sweet-tart raspberry vinegar.



Ice, she is dry.



The pastry chef, K, with her lovely, almost effortless quenelles of strawberry sorbet.



Topped off with candied citrus zest.





Edible flower "confetti" as garnish.



Smoke and mirrors...



Imagine just how fun this would be...



...coming to your table?!

And even more exciting, this means we're only halfway through the meal! Now that you're refreshed, it's time to loosen that belt one more notch.

Up next, course number four...fish!

kitchen tour: main course

The thing about tasting menus is that, well first, if you're lucky enough to have scored a reservation/expense account/significant occasion special enough to warrant a multi-course celebration - that aside of course - is that by the time you've settled in, had a drink to quell the excitement and gobbled down those first dainty and exquisite mouthfuls...well, you're worried, because despite your best intentions, you're getting full before the main course even hits.

(This is a musing of the hypothetical sort, in the vein of What would Ina do? Add cream or butter? Or both? as I clearly don't - but really wish I did - quite have the loot yet to support my dreamy dining fantasies. Until then, muse I shall...)

Whatever is a determined eater to do? As a favourite cook and mentor likes to say: "In times like this, you gotta get rich and switch."

Which is exactly what this kitchen does. The biggest, powerhouse main courses, usually served near the end of the meal, come first. Memento-style, the rest of the courses unravel backwards, going from meat to sea, then to lighter shellfish before ending with a final flurry of dessert. Imagine that!

What a relief and comfort to know that this way, you really can have your venison, foie, scallop and molten chocolate cake and eat it too.

Genius.

The call is in, the hot line gears up for some action...

Just as with the multiple amuses, each of the courses are offered in two variations; this way, each pair of diners is presented with a different version of the same course. (Cool and crazy, yes. It's good to keep things interesting, isn't it?)

Braised beef, potato and leek puree, milk foam



Lids for a luxurious version of Lion's Head, a kind of braised pork meatball "hotpot". (I missed the finished dish, but you can see a more traditional version of this dish here.)

And here comes the foie course...



L, lucky man, is the guardian of those fatty lobes of (heartwarming, or stopping?) love we call foie. Check out his sweet knife, by the way.



Hot food, hot plate!
Veg cook M grabs them nice and hot from the steamer.



Plating up inside hand-spun potato rings.



The line at work...veg, meat and sauce time it out so everything comes together.



J the saucier, working it out with his trusty spoon.



Bison and foie, roasted root veg, rice tuile, cognac apple puree



Venison and foie, braised daikon, berry glaze



D, sous chef and expediter extrordinaire, does a final check before sending the plates out...



Fave D line: "It's not a football! Carry it straight! "

After that delicious assault of all things pork and foie, I too would welcome a slight breather, a quiet respite for my (hypothetically) taxed tastebuds...

Curious, I did hear the word intermezzo in the air. Up next!

kitchen tour: oyster plate

There are just some things in this world that are so ludicrously decadent, so obviously, campily chic, that to offer them - in this case, in the perfect trifecta of oysters, bubbly and caviar - all at once, is almost laughably redundant.

With this tasting menu, there is an option to up the ante with an extra course of pure food bling and loooove.

Of course, we'll be having the oyster plate! With the caviar business! And the champers! (After all, we like sunshine and rainbows and kittens, don't we?)

Yes...Bring. It. On!

Cast irons/sizzle plates awaiting blini-ing. D, the sous, asks, "You keeping an eye on that?"



Hot plate seasoned and ready to go.



Ooh, a whole lotta blini love!

Quick question: why is it that so many things taste better in miniature? Don't dig a whole house of pancakes, but a stack of blini, that I could crush. (Of course, it does help that they come with chives and caviar. Mmmm, imagine, IHOB...)

St. Simons awaiting their accessories. Back: dressed with aged sherry mignonette.




What could make this even better? Why, that would be itty bitty quail eggs! Yesss!




Freckled and speckled, like graffitied faberges.



Need a sharp little paring knife to crack them open.




Into the poaching vessels they go (those would be tart shells "borrowed" from pastry station).




It's almost bathtime...




McGyvering the poach - mason jar rings holding tart shell, suspended by perforated hotel pan over water bath!



And out the eggies come...



The two tiered platter. Top: Taro dauphines, chive creme fraiche (caviar to follow), blini with radish (quail egg and caviar, likewise). Bottom, L to R: St. Simons with bacon vinaigrette, aged sherry mignonette, preserved lemon puree and green oil.



I think I could eat a whole platter of these by myself....



A few finishing touches...



And away for pick up...

Sigh. Isn't it all so lovely? Here's wishing you these champagne dreams and caviar wishes...

Next course, the mains!

kitchen tour: first course

Like a witty, playful preface to a great novel, or a jaw-dropping opening act to an established band, the amuse bouche both sets the tone and perks up the senses at the start of the meal, promising all the great things yet to come.

You diggin' this? the bite-sized morsels say,

Hold on to your hat, sister, we're just getting started...

The amuse station. Dry storage located just beyond.

In this kitchen, there is a team dedicated solely to the amuse station. Some may consider it a breaking-in ground for newer cooks; the station both requires and teaches, among other things, organization, timing, teamwork, creativity, attention to detail and a sense of urgency. The plates may be small, but their impact is huge; first impressions are lasting ones!

Chinois, both coarse and fine, used for passing liquids and purees til velvety smooth.


The amuse team at work.



Some last minute dressing.



Front: Quail egg with miso mustard. Back: Soy custard with spinach, soy mirin dressing.

Consider them composed dishes in miniature form; each mouthful is presented as a concentrated palette of flavours, a spoonful of primary colours, as it were.

Taking stock of the numbers, before final plating and garnishing.



Crispy tofu, basil, pineapple.



Confit cherry tomato, chipotle mayo crostini.



Back: Wuxi pork tart, confit potato.



Fish croquettes



Plates lined up, waiting for the call.

As each table is seated and settled in, the chits start rolling and the orders start flooding in:

Two amuses, one vegetarian!
Three amuses, one no shell!
Four amuses!
Two amuses, how long?

Did I mention that at this restaurant, each diner receives not one or two, but three separate amuses?

(Playful? Yes. Intricate? Yes. A possible holy hell of a headache if the wheels start falling off? Hell yes! But that's what makes it fun....)

Finished plates, ready for pick up.



Pig ear terrine



Skewer gets spicy peanut sauce, crostini gets basil sprout and guac, quail egg gets caviar...



Sharing platters for larger tables.



Lobster and tomato water jelly, purple basil sprout.



Foie pate, wild blueberry preserves, spiced mantau bread.

As the first wave of amuses are sent out, the other stations are set in motion; meat, veg, sauce, you're up next...

And the diners outside, delighting over the wee dishes set before them?

Fabulous, they say, we are amused.