Julian Teoh

I thought I should post my review of Les Amis here as well, from the "Fine Dining in Malaysia and Singapore" thread. Les Amis 1 Scotts Road, #02-16 Shaw Centre Singapore Les Amis has always been a legend of sorts in the region. It has long been regarded as the best French restaurant in Singapore and arguably South-East Asia. Two of the four founding partners left back in 2003, Executive Chef Justin Quek to try his luck in Taiwan and head sommelier Ignatius Chan to run his little corner of heaven in the former laundry of the Regent Hotel, named Iggy's and recently named in Restaurant Magazine's Top 100 Restaurants in the World. In recent years, Randy See, head sommelier and Gunther Hubrechsen, formerly sous chef at Paris's L'Arpege, have now steered the good ship to more comfortable waters and media reviews are now as glowing as they have ever been. Under See's guidance, Les Amis now boasts a wine cellar of 1500+ labels and an inventory of well over 10,000 bottles. On a more personal level, this is the restaurant that re-defined "fine dining" for me. It showed me that fine dining could also be as much about the food as the service and the wine list (an impression that I did not get too strongly when dining in Europe), and that Asians could do it as well as our European brothers. This was the one big planned splurge during the honeymoon (unlike the Villa Danieli (Sheraton Imperial KL) debacle, which was embarked upon with the spontaneity of a one-night stand and similarly regretted). I had emailed Randy See a couple of months before, telling him in no uncertain terms that I was trusting him and Hubrechsen to come up with a 5-course menu and a couple of matching wines. A challenge if you like, one that I was glad to see that he was up to. Disclaimer: Before you read on, I will disclose that I am on friendly terms with some of the staff there, so please feel free to read this with a grain of salt. But our relationship developed only after I ate there (and paid my bill in full, thank you) and wrote a favourable review in a Malaysian newspaper a few weeks later. It was as much my enthusiasm for the food and what they were trying to achieve that gave us common ground. DINNER! When you enter, you walk into a narrow corridor, with the restaurant to your left and a bar to your right. Randy greets me and apologises for not being able to stay tonight as he is off to a wine-tasting event at Sheraton Towers. The chairs are as comfortable as ever, and I appreciate the little cushioned stool on the side for the lady's handbag (and my camera). Seated next to me were a rather vocal group of stockbrokers or bankers, so I'll punctuate the review with illuminating comments from our friends in the financial world. They went as well with the food as the wine matches, so why should I deny you the same pleasure? Amuse Bouche Tempura cod fillet impaled on a fork and foie gras "creme brulee" with orange glaze Sometimes, I resent eGulleteers with any modicum of self-control This amuse could also be re-tagged "five mouthfuls of wonder" as it took me five bites and about 10 seconds to work through. My partner, who detests citrus of any sort, consumed the creme brulee with aplomb. And wouldn't you know it, by the time the camera was whipped out, it was all finished. The very helpful sommelier walked up with a bottle of Krug and whispered "Compliments of Mr Randy See, Krug Vintage 1990." Perhaps it is now time for a little Rumpole - "I caught the hint of wild strawberries again, but this was so beyond the ken of my everyday drinking that all I could do was slink away from the field of battle, muttering 'damned good stuff.'" Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote (from one member of their party to another) - "You brought your own wines? You arrogant arsehole!" Freebie - Mushroom Cappuccino There was no flash and giggle truffle oil trickery in this soup. Just a nice mushroom flavour with a velvety warmth and well-being that radiated into my body as I sipped. It's also a decent-sized serve, being served in a French cafe au lait cup, as opposed to the raging fashion of a demitasse. Freebie No 2 - Venus clam with Italian tomatoes The last time I dined here in 2005, I tasted a Venus clam for the first time, cut into thick shreds after grilling in the shell with a little butter, thyme and fleur de sel. I was dumbfounded when I discovered that the clams were imported from Australia - I had never seen anything like them on sale anywhere before, fish market or restaurant. This dish has evolved with the addition of the acidic tomato topping, which drew a perfect contrast against the vivid sea-sweetness of the clam. And wouldn't you know it, the Krug provides the perfect dry finish. Langoustine Carpaccio At this point, I was wondering when they would serve a dish on the menu. Lo and behold, here comes the first, and it is one of my favourites. This dish is an evolution of Passard's classic langoustine carpaccio with oscietre caviar creme, but is lifted with chives, Dandaragan extra virgin olive oil and a drizzle of reduced balsamic syrup. The serve is not large, but that's a good reason for that; there's plenty more food to come. Foie gras a la dragee, apple turnover Hubrechsen is clearly an admirer of Passard but he is no slave. He has kept Passard's love of the little things, like dragee, which are essentially candied almonds. The apple turnover is a nice touch from my childhood (I don't recall having one since I turned 12); this version thankfully lacks the copious amounts of whipped cream from an aerosol can that I am accustomed to. A bitter salad and a halo of cherry confit jus rings the plate. I do find a couple of little veins in the foie, however, but they present no genuine obstacle to my enjoyment. You may have noted that I have been gorging myself on foie gras and decry my nouveau riche obsession with these decadent livers. Please understand that I cannot obtain / purchase / grow / consume any decent foie in Sydney and therefore only have a three-week window to put away my share for the next year and a half. I would also just pause to add that I am not "riche" by any definition of the word. Alaskan Crab, girolle mushrooms This is a seasonal masterpiece. Roast crab leg (I think it is a red king crab) with the top half of the leg carapace removed for easy eating, and spread with an "Italian chilli" and scattered with grilled girolles. Hubrechsen later explained that the "chilli" was the nduja di Monte Poro, really a pork sausage from Calabria which is stuffed with chilli. The texture is almost spreadable and is definitely not what you expect from a sausage. It adds fire and a slight sourness against the fresh and sweet crab meat. In a country where chilli crab is arguably the national dish, this simple crab dish, boosted by the best of seasonal ingredients, stands tall and proud. Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote - "I apologise, gentlemen, we are now moving from the premiers crus to the second-growths." Cote de boeuf of Australian wagyu A hunk of dying cow done medium rare. What set it aside was the little layered wedge of confit seasonal vegetables, amongst which I saw a little carrot, leek, onion, cabbage and God knows what else. I normally don't care for vegetable side dishes but this was excellent. Like all wagyu, this one lacked the long drawn-out beefy flavour of a good grass-fed, but it makes up for that in tenderness and mouthfeel. This was perhaps the most ordinary of the dishes. It was good, perhaps even very good, but it failed to distinguish itself from the many excellent steaks you could get elsewhere. It was perfectly cooked, though, so don't get me wrong: The sommelier recommended a 2000 Vacqueyras from Perrin et fils, after the initially recommended Chateauneuf-du-Pape was corked (pre-empted by the apologetic sommelier who was sorry that sir's choice could not be presented as the wine is not in the best condition...). He called the Vacqueyras "a fruity mouthful with good berry flavour and smooth tannin." I couldn't have said it better myself, and it was a perfect match with my wagyu. Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote - (on a mobile) "Ha ha, you stupid motherf*cker. I am going to make you my bitch tonight." (I could not entirely rule out that he was not talking to his wife / significant other; at this point, it was clear that the Baron de Rothschild was doing the talking). Chocolate souffle Studded with a few cherries jacked with liqueur, this was fantastic, almost like a Black Forest souffle. The accompaniments were a lemongrass creme anglaise and a vanilla ice cream. We need a close-up: I have always loved Hubrechsen's souffles. The last time I was here, when Hubrechsen came out for a chat, I reminisced about a red fruits souffle that I had previously enjoyed, and he jumped up and said "Would you like one? I'll make you one now!" He is clearly proud of his prowess with the airy egg whites, and rightfully so. The lemongrass was hard to detect, and despite the rich chocolate, this was a suitably light finish to a meal that somehow grew from 5 courses to 7 without me looking. I think I did it justice in the end: Stockbrokers' Quote: "There is no question that this is the best French restaurant in this country (not from the drunk guy)." We then retired to the bar for petits fours and coffee: An offer of a Bas Armagnac 1963 as digestif was politely declined as I was reaching the end of my shelf life for the day. A canele and macaron, and a caramel thing and chocolatey cupcake which I couldn't identify, but at this stage, it didn't much matter. We said our thanks and goodbyes and asked for the bill. The final damage was $450 SGD all told, with the wines comped. The tasting menu comes to around $185 SGD a head, with the +++ adding 16% to your bill and a little for the bottomless bottle of Evian. Hubrechsen's food is very heavily dependent on seasonal ingredients, perhaps more so than any other chef whose food I've eaten. In October, when tuna are at their fattest, toro is dished out with abandon. Morels in May? Not a problem. The experience will obviously vary according to when you eat here; the only thing you will be guaranteed is a showcase of the finest produce at hand. Service is faultless, waiters explain each dish before serving and wine service here almost justifies the $50 per bottle corkage charged, with pre-emptive tasting and proper decanters being utilised. Let me get this straight - the meal here was not perfect. The foie had little veins and my partner's cote de boeuf was too tendony. But against the bigger picture, this was indeed a superlative meal. If money is no object, I strongly recommend that you allow Hubrechsen to choose your food for you; only a couple of the dishes served at our and the stockbrokers' table were on the menu. Take your time to talk to the servers and sommeliers and you will be amply rewarded. Like I said, feel free to take this review with a grain of salt. I won't use the old cliche of proofs and puddings etc etc, but have a go. These people are well-trained professionals and they will show you a good time whether they know you or not, as I found on my first visit. Go on, I dare you. I tell you now that there is no restaurant in Sydney, or perhaps Australia, quite like this, that could source the wines and ingredients that these chaps have to play around with. It is quite simply, one of the most important restaurants that Singapore has. It shows the myriad possibilities of haute cuisine, and it caters well to its crowd, whether the well-heeled or the everyday couple looking for something appropriate to celebrate their special night. On its day, it bests even the Michelin three-stars that I've eaten at. Without question, this was the finest meal I enjoyed on the trip. Against the casual and unrewarding dalliance that was the Villa Danieli, Les Amis is more a meaningful friend for life.

Les Amis 1 Scotts Road, #02-16 Shaw Centre Singapore Les Amis has always been a legend of sorts in the region. It has long been regarded as the best French restaurant in Singapore and arguably South-East Asia. Two of the four founding partners left back in 2003, Executive Chef Justin Quek to try his luck in Taiwan and head sommelier Ignatius Chan to run his little corner of heaven in the former laundry of the Regent Hotel, named Iggy's and recently named in Restaurant Magazine's Top 100 Restaurants in the World. In recent years, Randy See, head sommelier and Gunther Hubrechsen, formerly sous chef at Paris's L'Arpege, have now steered the good ship to more comfortable waters and media reviews are now as glowing as they have ever been. Under See's guidance, Les Amis now boasts a wine cellar of 1500+ labels and an inventory of well over 10,000 bottles. On a more personal level, this is the restaurant that re-defined "fine dining" for me. It showed me that fine dining could also be as much about the food as the service and the wine list (an impression that I did not get too strongly when dining in Europe), and that Asians could do it as well as our European brothers. This was the one big planned splurge during the honeymoon (unlike the Villa Danieli debacle, which was embarked upon with the spontaneity of a one-night stand and similarly regretted). I had emailed Randy See a couple of months before, telling him in no uncertain terms that I was trusting him and Hubrechsen to come up with a 5-course menu and a couple of matching wines. A challenge if you like, one that I was glad to see that he was up to. Disclaimer: Before you read on, I will disclose that I am on friendly terms with some of the staff there, so please feel free to read this with a grain of salt. But our relationship developed only after I ate there (and paid my bill in full, thank you) and wrote a favourable review in a Malaysian newspaper a few weeks later. It was as much my enthusiasm for the food and what they were trying to achieve that gave us common ground. DINNER! When you enter, you walk into a narrow corridor, with the restaurant to your left and a bar to your right. Randy greets me and apologises for not being able to stay tonight as he is off to a wine-tasting event at Sheraton Towers. The chairs are as comfortable as ever, and I appreciate the little cushioned stool on the side for the lady's handbag (and my camera). Seated next to me were a rather vocal group of stockbrokers or bankers, so I'll punctuate the review with illuminating comments from our friends in the financial world. They went as well with the food as the wine matches, so why should I deny you the same pleasure? Amuse Bouche Tempura cod fillet impaled on a fork and foie gras "creme brulee" with orange glaze Sometimes, I resent eGulleteers with any modicum of self-control This amuse could also be re-tagged "five mouthfuls of wonder" as it took me five bites and about 10 seconds to work through. My partner, who detests citrus of any sort, consumed the creme brulee with aplomb. And wouldn't you know it, by the time the camera was whipped out, it was all finished. The very helpful sommelier walked up with a bottle of Krug and whispered "Compliments of Mr Randy See, Krug Vintage 1990." Perhaps it is now time for a little Rumpole - "I caught the hint of wild strawberries again, but this was so beyond the ken of my everyday drinking that all I could do was slink away from the field of battle, muttering 'damned good stuff.'" Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote (from one member of their party to another) - "You brought your own wines? You arrogant arsehole!" Freebie - Mushroom Cappuccino There was no flash and giggle truffle oil trickery in this soup. Just a nice mushroom flavour with a velvety warmth and well-being that radiated into my body as I sipped. It's also a decent-sized serve, being served in a French cafe au lait cup, as opposed to the raging fashion of a demitasse. Freebie No 2 - Venus clam with Italian tomatoes The last time I dined here in 2005, I tasted a Venus clam for the first time, cut into thick shreds after grilling in the shell with a little butter, thyme and fleur de sel. I was dumbfounded when I discovered that the clams were imported from Australia - I had never seen anything like them on sale anywhere before, fish market or restaurant. This dish has evolved with the addition of the acidic tomato topping, which drew a perfect contrast against the vivid sea-sweetness of the clam. And wouldn't you know it, the Krug provides the perfect dry finish. Langoustine Carpaccio At this point, I was wondering when they would serve a dish on the menu. Lo and behold, here comes the first, and it is one of my favourites. This dish is an evolution of Passard's classic langoustine carpaccio with oscietre caviar creme, but is lifted with chives, Dandaragan extra virgin olive oil and a drizzle of reduced balsamic syrup. The serve is not large, but that's a good reason for that; there's plenty more food to come. Foie gras a la dragee, apple turnover Hubrechsen is clearly an admirer of Passard but he is no slave. He has kept Passard's love of the little things, like dragee, which are essentially candied almonds. The apple turnover is a nice touch from my childhood (I don't recall having one since I turned 12); this version thankfully lacks the copious amounts of whipped cream from an aerosol can that I am accustomed to. A bitter salad and a halo of cherry confit jus rings the plate. I do find a couple of little veins in the foie, however, but they present no genuine obstacle to my enjoyment. You may have noted that I have been gorging myself on foie gras and decry my nouveau riche obsession with these decadent livers. Please understand that I cannot obtain / purchase / grow / consume any decent foie in Sydney and therefore only have a three-week window to put away my share for the next year and a half. I would also just pause to add that I am not "riche" by any definition of the word. Alaskan Crab, girolle mushrooms This is a seasonal masterpiece. Roast crab leg (I think it is a red king crab) with the top half of the leg carapace removed for easy eating, and spread with an "Italian chilli" and scattered with grilled girolles. Hubrechsen later explained that the "chilli" was the nduja di Monte Poro, really a pork sausage from Calabria which is stuffed with chilli. The texture is almost spreadable and is definitely not what you expect from a sausage. It adds fire and a slight sourness against the fresh and sweet crab meat. In a country where chilli crab is arguably the national dish, this simple crab dish, boosted by the best of seasonal ingredients, stands tall and proud. Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote - "I apologise, gentlemen, we are now moving from the premiers crus to the second-growths." Cote de boeuf of Australian wagyu A hunk of dying cow done medium rare. What set it aside was the little layered wedge of confit seasonal vegetables, amongst which I saw a little carrot, leek, onion, cabbage and God knows what else. I normally don't care for vegetable side dishes but this was excellent. Like all wagyu, this one lacked the long drawn-out beefy flavour of a good grass-fed, but it makes up for that in tenderness and mouthfeel. This was perhaps the most ordinary of the dishes. It was good, perhaps even very good, but it failed to distinguish itself from the many excellent steaks you could get elsewhere. It was perfectly cooked, though, so don't get me wrong: The sommelier recommended a 2000 Vacqueyras from Perrin et fils, after the initially recommended Chateauneuf-du-Pape was corked (pre-empted by the apologetic sommelier who was sorry that sir's choice could not be presented as the wine is not in the best condition...). He called the Vacqueyras "a fruity mouthful with good berry flavour and smooth tannin." I couldn't have said it better myself, and it was a perfect match with my wagyu. Stockbrokers' Quotable Quote - (on a mobile) "Ha ha, you stupid motherf*cker. I am going to make you my bitch tonight." (I could not entirely rule out that he was not talking to his wife / significant other; at this point, it was clear that the Baron de Rothschild was doing the talking). Chocolate souffle Studded with a few cherries jacked with liqueur, this was fantastic, almost like a Black Forest souffle. The accompaniments were a lemongrass creme anglaise and a vanilla ice cream. We need a close-up: I have always loved Hubrechsen's souffles. The last time I was here, when Hubrechsen came out for a chat, I reminisced about a red fruits souffle that I had previously enjoyed, and he jumped up and said "Would you like one? I'll make you one now!" He is clearly proud of his prowess with the airy egg whites, and rightfully so. The lemongrass was hard to detect, and despite the rich chocolate, this was a suitably light finish to a meal that somehow grew from 5 courses to 7 without me looking. I think I did it justice in the end: Stockbrokers' Quote: "There is no question that this is the best French restaurant in this country (not from the drunk guy)." We then retired to the bar for petits fours and coffee: An offer of a Bas Armagnac 1963 as digestif was politely declined as I was reaching the end of my shelf life for the day. A canele and macaron, and a caramel thing and chocolatey cupcake which I couldn't identify, but at this stage, it didn't much matter. We said our thanks and goodbyes and asked for the bill. The final damage was $450 SGD all told, with the wines comped. The tasting menu comes to around $185 SGD a head, with the +++ adding 16% to your bill and a little for the bottomless bottle of Evian. Hubrechsen's food is very heavily dependent on seasonal ingredients, perhaps more so than any other chef whose food I've eaten. In October, when tuna are at their fattest, toro is dished out with abandon. Morels in May? Not a problem. The experience will obviously vary according to when you eat here; the only thing you will be guaranteed is a showcase of the finest produce at hand. Service is faultless, waiters explain each dish before serving and wine service here almost justifies the $50 per bottle corkage charged, with pre-emptive tasting and proper decanters being utilised. Let me get this straight - the meal here was not perfect. The foie had little veins and my partner's cote de boeuf was too tendony. But against the bigger picture, this was indeed a superlative meal. If money is no object, I strongly recommend that you allow Hubrechsen to choose your food for you; only a couple of the dishes served at our and the stockbrokers' table were on the menu. Take your time to talk to the servers and sommeliers and you will be amply rewarded. Like I said, feel free to take this review with a grain of salt. I won't use the old cliche of proofs and puddings etc etc, but have a go. These people are well-trained professionals and they will show you a good time whether they know you or not, as I found on my first visit. Go on, I dare you. I tell you now that there is no restaurant in Sydney, or perhaps Australia, quite like this, that could source the wines and ingredients that these chaps have to play around with. It is quite simply, one of the most important restaurants that Singapore has. It shows the myriad possibilities of haute cuisine, and it caters well to its crowd, whether the well-heeled or the everyday couple looking for something appropriate to celebrate their special night. On its day, it bests even the Michelin three-stars that I've eaten at. Without question, this was the finest meal I enjoyed on the trip. Against the casual and unrewarding dalliance that was the Villa Danieli, Les Amis is more a meaningful friend for life.

Hi Peter, If I may be so bold as to presume that is the end of your reports, thank you for a wonderful thread. I returned to Sydney just before the Aidilfitri celebrations started in Malaysia, so I unfortunately missed out on the festival atmosphere. It is refreshing to read reports from SE Asia at such a great time of the year. It's perhaps one of the most hackneyed old chestnuts in travel writing to say that you understand a place only by knowing its people, but that authentic flavour weaves its way through your posts like the unmistakeable taste of nam pla.

Thanks for the review Peter. I must admit that I did not enjoy my meal at the Raffles Grill, which was another Pourcel consultancy project until quite recently. Thierry Alix from the Shanghai outpost was doing a guest chef stint and I was invited for a degustation lunch (just before an interview at 2.30 pm; not the most ideal preparation for the alert journalistic mind). That aside, I found the food a confusing mix of flavours; Vietnamese, French, Thai, Chinese. I don't think there was a dish that I actually enjoyed (which shows how grateful I am since my meal was comped). The amuse was something extremely sour, which was about my most memorable flavour recollection of the meal. The dessert, something called a Vietnamese mem, was abysmal. And my waiter was a chap from mainland China who had trouble stringing four words together in any comprehensible accent. Considering that I was dining with the Raffles PR manager at the time, I found this quite stunning. However, Alix then rebounded quite strongly with a Brittany seabass main on a different occasion, which was one of the best pieces of fish I've had.

Thanks for the review. The reference to Ipoh - is that to Indulgence? ← Good guess, JC - I was actually referring to Citrus near Ipoh Garden East. Chef Simon trained in Singapore five-star hotels and won some gold medals in culinary competitions. His foie gras is seared and served on a rectangular dish as three elements: a mound of diced papaya chutney, a green salad and the foie (which is topped with a sour mango salsa). I appreciated the additions of sweet, acidic and bitter elements to the liver. Decent value too at RM30. Citrus's food (fusion) is more aspirational than Le Bouchon's, but the service vibe, at least at lunch, is much more modern trendy cafe / restaurant than fine dining. I haven't had the pleasure of dining at Indulgence, although I did drive past it a lot on my last trip.

Hi Lori, The metropolitan area of Perth is charming and filled with plenty of things to do and see but the real appeal of Perth lies in the fact that its surrounding countryside is idyllic and remarkably accessible. Perth has some perfect vineyards/rivers/idyllic spots which are a day-trip out of Perth..... such as Margaret River. I think the ideal thing would be: Saturday 9am: Go on a drive (~2.5 hours) out of Perth 11am: Spend some time visiting the wineries (they are very scenic and close to each other, and even for non-drinkers, there are cottage industries producing things such as fudge, fresh cheeses, olive oils, etc). 12.30pm: Have lunch at one of the vineyards or a picnic beside the River 2pm: Get lost in the limestone caves 4pm: Dune buggying 6pm: Check into a bed and breakfast and let their hosts entertain them for the evening Sunday 9am: Lazy breakfast and check out of the B&B 12pm: Drive pack to Perth. If you wanted to fit in budget, you'd probably need to scrap the night in the B&B (it's ~$40 US just for the accommodation) and have them drive back to Perth on Saturday night. This would be okay too, as it doesn't get dark in December/January until about 8pm at night. However, if looking for things to do actually in Perth, this isn't a good option. A summary of my top restaurant recommendations in Perth would be: PLACES TO EAT For great food: - Would highly recommend Duende in Leederville (great Spanish Tapas), Da Brunos in Inglewood (Italian slow / comfort food), Eminem in Nedlands (Turkish) or Cream in East Perth (modern Australian with a touch of the east) For great views: - Red Herring in Subiaco (seafood), Restaurant C in Perth CBD (Fusion food) , Frasers in West Perth (Modern Australian) For "Australian" food: - The Coolgardie Safe in East Perth Each of these places should have menus on their websites, so you could check out prices, etc. THINGS TO DO - bike ride around King's Park (400 hectares of virgin bush land plus beautifully manicured gardens, with >13,000 native species).... spectacular view of Perth skyline, especially at sunset with reflections off the glass skyscrapers. - Visit Perth Zoo - see some Aussie animals - Visit Perth Mint – Australia's precious metals mint is the world's oldest mint still operating from its original premises - Visit AQWA - walk through aquarium with a seal exhibit - Visit Cottesloe beach for fish and chips After typing up all this stuff, I stumbled upon a website, which lists its "Top Ten Things" to do in Perth. It's fairly similar to my recommendations, but has a bit more information: http://www.cbs.curtin.edu.au/index.cfm?obj...38D0A6BB7CB97B6 Let me know if anything takes your fancy and I'll try to provide some more details.

Parmigiano Reggiano has always been widely available.

I had my doubts about posting regarding Le Bouchon in this thread. This is not a fine dining restaurant in any real sense of the word. It boasts of "homely French ambience," a decidedly anti-haute cuisine self-promotion if there ever was one. Its menu, filled with traditional French bistro fare such as duck confit and soupe a l'oignon gratinee, is a bit of a clue, if the wooden floors and deliberately rickety and cluttered cellar didn't already give it away. I would like to leave the debate on the definition of fine dining in its context till the end of this post. I have a more urgent mission now - to recap on an excellent French meal in an unlikely venue. Le Bouchon Nos 14 & 16, Jalan Changkat Bukit Bintang, Kuala Lumpur Changkat Bukit Bintang (and surrounds) is one of those former dens of the underworld which has recently become "gentrified" as Malaysia takes leaps and bounds into the developed world, and yuppies and their partners find new and exciting ways (food and wine being one of them) to spend their newly-found riches. This area is teeming with signs of this newfound prosperity, including a German pub, an Irish pub, a branch office for Babcock & Brown, and I'm sure I saw a Mexican tequila place across the road. This dinner was a bit of a bittersweet moment, being our last dinner of the honeymoon before we caught the Nice bus (that's the name of the bus operator, but the bus was also pretty good) to Singapore and onto a Qantas flight back to Sydney. My parents had insisted on treating us to a meal here, and who am I to say no? The dining room is appointed as one would expect of a traditional French bistro, although the non-smioking section is a little more tizzied-up with a wall feature of empty Perrier-Jouet bottles. Here is a view of the smoking section: And the non-smoking section: Le Bouchon offers two prix fixe menus at RM148 (four courses) and around RM85 (three courses), with the inevitable ++ adding 15% to your bill. My folks opted for the RM85 prix fixe, whilst my brother, the missus and I opted for a la carte. Before the meal began in earnest, a plate of canapes was brought out. Cheese puff pastry (gruyere, perhaps?) and little toasts spread with creme fraiche and red lumpfish roe. Just a little tinge of sourness and lightness to kickstart our palates. Entree As part of the prix fixe menu, chicken and mushroom in puff pastry Inoffensive would be the best way to put it. Creamy sauce, not too much influence of mushroom (this was not the best trip for mushrooms), moist chicken. I've had worse chicken pies. Not sure if I've had better ones, but the puff pastry ceiling of achievement is rather limited as far as chicken pies go, and this was no exception. Again, as part of the prix fixe, onion soup. This was very competently executed version, with the crouton and smelted gruyere on top. I like onion soup, so much in fact that by the time I thought to whip out the camera, the soup was finished. Oh well... Burgundy Snails in a Creamy Spinach Sauce Half a dozen of the fat little critters dripping in mozzarella and finely chopped spinach. I liked the way the slight bitterness of the greens played off against the cheese and creamy sauce. The snails were juicy, sweet and perfectly cooked. Main Courses As part of the prix fixe, marinated grilled chicken with fondant potatoes and wholgrain mustard sauce As you may have surmised by now, my folks love to order chicken, which suits me fine since I never do and it gives me a chance to taste more dishes on the menu. And the kitchen at Le Bouchon cooks its meats, poultry and fish very well; did not encounter a single instance where the meat was over- or underdone. It is often tempting to lightly undercook chicken, which one encounters often in Asian soup noodle dishes, but this was done with a kiss of juicy perfection, just like your mother used to make when chickens did not reach a hormone-pumped 2.3 kilograms in four weeks. I didn't care for the Moroccan-influenced seasoning, though. Duck Confit with goose foie gras I lament the lack of fresh unpasteurised foie gras in Australia, and why goose foie gras, across the world, is so rare. The most common response is the cost and that the goose version is much more delicate, liable as it is to melt into a spluttering pool of goose fat. So explain, why is it that of the luxe restaurants in Paris and Singapore that I have come across, with their myriad of Michelin-trained chefs and a prosperous consumer base, that the only two instances of goose foie gras that I have encountered are here in KL and in Ipoh (!) The food, yes...confit was nicely crisped on the outside, and with a sliver of seared foie gras the size of a pizza slice draped over the top, who is complaining? Not me. Fettucine au pistou with grilled seasonal vegetables Perfectly cooked pasta. From the al dente bite of the pasta, it was dried, but in my books, dried pasta is as good as fresh if it is handled well. Grilled capsicum, squash, mushrooms (!!!) and zucchini sang with a light smoky sweetness from the grill, and the pistou was a subtle teasing flavour. For a chef from Brittany, this was an excellent showcase of summery Provencale flavours. Fried seabass with a brochette of prawn and more fettucine The prawns were halved down the middle and curled around the skewer like a chicken satay. I found the prawns a tad overcooked and clinging to the skewer. The fish was underseasoned, but there was nothing a few good shakes of salt couldn't fix. The pasta, again, was excellent. When one has to hit a French bistro for a good fix of al dente pasta, times must be tough. Dessert As part of the prix fixe, Le Bouchonmissu Finely creamed mascarpone, perhaps more creamed and loose than I am used to, and slivers of red-wine poached pears make for a nice and light finish. The set menu is clearly a study in thoughtfulness; the heaviness of the cream sauce (entree) and generous main of chicken is counterbalanced by a lighter, acid version of the traditional coffee dessert. Tarte Tatin According to my brother, this dish has evovled somewhat since his last visit some years back. Then, it was a whole cored apple, caramelised, and wrapped in puff pastry, so it was effectively a spheroid apple tart. Based on this hearsay, I had concocted my own version of it, serving it with a reduced apple and blackcurrant sauce on the side. Coming to worship at the shrine where this concept was developed, I was somewhat disappointed too see that it had transmuted into a traditional tarte. Nonetheless, let this not detract you from the nicely-baked apple, the hot-cold contrast playing out in your mouth, or the flambeed pool of Calvados doing its thing on the plate. Conclusion Le Bouchon is an excellent venue for authentic and completely unfussed French food. Servings are very generous, and more importantly, the food is truly delicious. Don't come here if you are looking for something to stimulate your gastronomic intelligence; Le Bouchon wears its "good hearty bistro fare" credentials on its sleeve. You might consider the price steep relative to other dining options available, (around RM460 to stuff five hungry people) but this is true for any quality European option in KL. The View as you walk out Service is courteous and knowledgeable, something which other restaurants could take a hint from. Now, is this fine dining? Yes and no, but in my view, and given context as to time and place, the answer must be yes. Tick the boxes as you go along; good food, check. Good and knowledgeable service, check. Well-timed meal delivery, check. Clean, classic (if not classy) decor, check. High-ish prices, check. While we are on traditional forms of street and accessible dining in the context of KL, Le Bouchon is not one such. If we can "drop" the bar somewhat as to what counts as "fine dining" in KL and Asian cities where dining at a place like Le Bouchon is far from the norm, then let's do so in this instance. One aspect of the Le Bouchon meal I didn't mention before is that it periodically flies in treats from France for the enjoyment of its patrons, Cancale oysters being a case in point. Chef Philippe le Francais (yes that is his real name) insists on serving the best and freshest of these treasures raw. Its devotion to bringing in the best in esoteric and fresh produce from France is another point in my argument. During an informal post-meal chat, our waiter tells us that the previous chef who worked with Le Francais had left, but Le Francais had taken over personally in order to maintain the quality and authenticity of the food. "You need a gweilo to control the kitchen, no offence intended, madam," he said, noticing the sole gweilo in our party. "If you let a Malaysian take over, after a while, the food will turn to char kway teow." In the eyes of hardcore lovers of hawker food, this may not seem such a bad thing. But if that should ever happen, KL would lose one of its very few providers of truly authentic quality French fare.

Thanks for the responses, guys. JC, I agree with your point. However, I'm taking the view that it is, at some level, worth discussion; the fact that it is comparatively (and maybe absolutely) poorer than the hawker offerings does not preclude it from scrutiny. Another reason why I was motivated to start this thread was that the Malaysia International Gourmet Festival is starting soon, and its solemn promise is to bring the best of fine dining to the public and to promote Malaysia's best restaurants. At the prices being charged, bearing in mind that almost all of the restaurants are F&B outlets at 5-star hotels, the event is not that accessible to the public at all. And if they are going in for the same experience that I had, the event may not be a very good advertisement for Malaysia. JC, PCL, if you are attending any events at the MIGF, please share your experiences on this thread. I would love to hear some good news. The perverse thing about all this is that a place like Le Bouchon on Changkat Bukit Bintang, a self-avowed no-fuss French bistro-like place, provides service much more on par with a fine-dining experience (but casual a la Sydney), and excellent food that speaks of its heritage. I loved it, and would post a review on this thread but for the fact that it not a fine diner. Hell, I might still do it. It is not my intention to be negative where it is not warranted. Once my roaming camera comes back, I hope to post a review of Les Amis in Singapore, the grand-daddy of independent fine dining restaurants. My meal, and a couple of others I've had there in past years, deserves superlatives that are not in my vocabulary.

All that's required for Iberico is compliance with curing times stipulated by FSANZ and someone willing to spend the money for that compliance and verification at source. Foie gras unpasteurised? Not a chance, if I understand current food policy correctly. ← There was a date set for the "legalisation" of unpasteurised foie gras imports into Australia, I believe it was the end of 2006 or sometime in 2007, but that has just been pushed back because of an outbreak of Newcastle's disease in France. Wondering if foie gras from other producers, eg the USA, may be OK; surely the outbreak of a disease in one country cannot result in a worldwide ban for importation of the product (unless there is some other hidden agenda). Daniel, when I was in Melbourne in late September, MoVida on Hosier Lane was also serving sliced Iberico ham as a tapa ($10 per 10 grams). Didn't try it as I was pigging out on their gorgeous mushrooms and other delights. You can also find Iberico on the menu at Rockpool in Sydney.

A lot is made of hawker dining in Malaysia and Singapore, which is clearly justified. I have just returned from three weeks of happy eating in the aforementioned countries and am grinning from ear to ear as I write this, recalling the fond memories of beansprout chicken in Ipoh and wonderful roti canai in Kuala Lumpur. No one speaks much of higher-end dining though, and I hope this thread, with the cumulative experiences of eGullet members, will provide a guide to this genre of dining, especially European options, available in Malaysia and Singapore. I hasten to add that I am NOT in any way an expert on the fine dining scenes in Malaysia and Singapore, but I would like to kickstart this thread by sharing a couple of my experiences there from my recent trip. Villa Danieli Sheraton Imperial, Jalan Sultan Ismail, Kuala Lumpur A fortunate accumulation of Starwood points allowed me the luxury of staying at the Sheraton Imperial, Kuala Lumpur. It is a five-star hotel in the truest sense of the description, with an excellent gymnasium and health club facilities, and the decor is discreet but classic. And if you are reluctant to brave the KL traffic, you are literally four minutes walk away from monorail and train stations. A pity then, that the flagship restaurant, Villa Danieli, does not live up to the standards set by the rest of the hotel. In truth, I was looking forward to having a hawker feast at Jalan Alor on Bukit Bintang when the heavens opened. Denied the opportunity to dine outdoors, I took the soft option. Having been informed that the restaurant won a few awards for best Italian restaurant etc etc, I was hopeful of an excellent meal. I hope you will forgive the brevity of this review. Given the circumstances that transpired on the day, I was not inclined to stay for more than one course. Our waiter was a very merry character. He was also brutally and endearingly honest, though I confess that his honesty did not make me particularly optimistic about the standard of food served. When I enquired about the fish of the day cooked in a salt crust, he asked me "Do I eat saltfish?" Thinking that he was referring to ham yee, I replied yes, I like it every so often. He replied "You eat the crust on this one and it is very salty. This is a whole fish, but it is not very big and it is not very good value. I never recommend it to my customers." Right. Deep down in the recesses of my memory, I had come across caciocavallo before, and I saw a ravioli stuffed with caciocavallo. Not remembering the nature of the cheese, I asked what caciocavallo was. "It is a cheese, sir," came the reply. "I know, but what kind of cheese?" "An Italian cheese, sir." I gritted my teeth, this might take longer than I thought. My partner is a light eater, so when I enquired about the pasta del giorno for two people and whether it was sufficient as a main course for two, our waiter started shaking with mirth and replied "Oh, yes, this is very big. Even I can't finish my share." To paraphrase Will Smith in Men in Black, I was half the man he was. We finally got around to actually ordering something. I requested the signature dish of braised beef cheek with truffles and porcini mushroom, and my partner opted for the seafood risotto. Decent breads were brought out in a baked earthenware pot; the white and brown rolls were fluff but the rolls scented with tomato and olive oil are worth an honourable mention. This is where the debacle continued. My main course looked as expected, a homely comforting stew of slow-cooked chunks of beef cheek, crushed potato pieces and mushrooms. And the beef was perfectly tender, falling apart at the merest suggestion of a knife. Two slight problems, an absence of truffle, and an absence of porcini. All I had were button mushrooms, which tasted as if they came out from a can. In essence, I was about to be charged RM82 for beef cheeks and spuds. I complained to another waiter that I couldn't smell or taste any truffles, and that there were no porcini mushrooms in the stew. He explained that the truffles were finely chopped and added to the sauce. He then pointed to one of the button mushrooms and said "that's a porcini." I replied "No that is not a porcini mushroom." He said "No sir, that is a porcini mushroom." I replied "I've had porcini before, that is not a porcini mushroom. It looks like something that came out of a can. He looked at me more in sorrow than in anger "No, sir, we do not use canned mushrooms in our restaurant." I said "Look, you are telling me that they are and I am saying that they are not. We aren't going to get very far, are we?"and asked to speak to the chef. Chef was eminently reasonable. I pointed the mushrooms out and he said that those were most definitely not porcini mushrooms, but the kitchen mixed porcini and button mushrooms for the stew. Fine, but where were the porcinis? And the truffles? Chef explained that the truffles were chopped finely and sprinkled onto the potatoes (Oh, so you mean they weren't in the sauce?). The potatoes had hardly any topping on them and what there was, in the dim light, looked (and tasted) like micro-chopped parsley. Chef took the plate away and brought it back personally, with eight giant halves of porcini mushroom and a blizzard of chopped truffle. The dish now took on a semblance of the extraordinary. Earthy and rich, with the intoxicating fragrance of porcini and truffle, mingling delightfully with the sticky beef juices. I was not overly fond of the risotto, which I found a little stodgy, but my partner clearly did not share the same concerns and finished it off. At this point, I did not have patience for dessert. The hotel had dropped off a little box of chocolate truffles as a welcome token that afternoon, which we decided would suffice. Value was appalling; throw in a glass of chianti and a bottle of mineral water and my bill was around 250 ringgit. Quite clearly, Villa Danieli has the potential to be a very good restaurant. Once the proper dish was served, I realised that the kitchen can cook food that borders on the transcendent. However, I should never have been forced to take the steps that I did in order to get a dish which had been lavished with the love and attention that its price merited. The service was poor. The waiters were completely lacking knowledge about the food and did not make ordering any easier in the slightest. Perhaps it is my food-snobbishness showing but I could hardly forgive the second waiter's implications that he knew what a porcini mushroom looked like and I didn't. He also didn't know where the truffles were in the dish. In both cases, he was wrong, wrong, wrong. Truthfully, I was quite embarassed that Chef had to serve the dish personally to make up for his waiters' seeming incompetence, so I made sure I thanked him personally after the meal. Perhaps the normal clientele of the hotel are too polite to take issue with these issues, or perhaps they are not foodwise to the extent that they care about what they are being served in the slightest. I normally try to avoid confrontations with service staff, as they sour the entire atmosphere of the meal, but in this case, that was simply not possible. In contrast to my dinner a few weeks prior at Les Amis in Singapore, this was the miserable nadir of fine dining.

I was at Sora Margherita (30, Piazza delle Cinque Scuole), a small Roman-Jewish osteria, a couple of years ago. I found the carciofi alla giudea pretty good but the gnocchi was much a muchness. The bill was surprisingly high, though, given the decor and the level of food (which was basic and decent). Nonetheles, it is a charming little place. The place was packed and we had to wait over 35 minutes for our table (no bookings). And when I say packed, I'm referring to the tables as well as the people - it amazed me how many rickety tables you could fit in that little space! The crowd appeared to have a fair number of travellers (both Italian and international) and I had the pleasure of sharing a table with two generously-built construction workers on their lunchbreak. For the sake of cordial relations, the owner brought out a black marker and drew a demarcation line on the paper "tablecloth" between our space and the workers.' We all had a good laugh about that. Before you take your seat, you have to fill in a little card which bears a title sounding like "the friendly society of Sora Margherita" and I have always wondered what that was all about. It transpires that the area is not zoned for restaurants and Sora Margherita, in form if not in substance, is actually a "club" which you have to join before you can get fed!

At this point, I might give a useful plug to Entertainment Books. They provide great discounts to lots of top restaurants (as well as more casual restaurants and many non-food-related activities) such as Bilsons, Astral, Omega, Bathers, Forty One, Coast, Altitude and Harbour Kitchen. Discounts are normally around $40 to $50, which is a significant saving on a meal for two which may cost around $200. Priced at only 60 bucks, you can get your money back by just using the book twice. Suffice to say it makes your dining dollar go a lot further. And it's all for a good cause; $12 from each purchase goes straight to the charity selling them; you can always pick up a copy at the Cancer Council shop in the City. But don't let charitable generosity deter you; it's always easier to act in one's selfish interests!

Chefs Office - I can't run the video despite repeated attempts. Would you mind briefly summarising the comments? I thought Balzac's demotion was a long-time coming, and I was glad that Astral at Star City finally got a hat. Sean Connolly's food is technically excellent, and being in a casino, on any given day, his menu features a foie gras dish (normally a terrine or pie) and caviar with the trimmings. It is unashamed fine dining, and wonderful fine dining it is too. Vulcans - come on! How does Vulcans deserve a demotion? It is still a superlative experience. It's perverse decisions like this (amongst others which I will not mention, three-hatters) which cause me not to have too much regard at all for the GFG ratings when I choose meal venues. My comments above, especially re Astral, are more expressions of hope that the ratings will boost business for serially underrated restaurants. Any feedback from Sydneysiders about the results?

Pat, that was precisely my point. The reason why economists refer to "price elasticity" is because supply and demand is like an elastic band. If you pull it by raising your prices too much, it will either break and the whole structure goes to the dogs, or it will snap back and hit you in the face. This is the factor that these "outspoken restaurateurs" have not yet faced up to. This won't do any good for my dining credentials, but I am 100% with TCO. I am a marginal diner. I like to be serious about my food, but due to my pay being less than what I would like, I need to keep within a fair boundary, despite spending a fair proportion of my income on dining out. I often do a little intrinsic cost-benefit analysis when I dine out; would I spend $200.00 on a tasting menu with wines? Yes, every once in a while. Would I spend $250 on the same menu if prices went up overnight? Not on your life. Because I'd know that is not the intrinsic worth of the meal that they were charging less for last night. Where possible, I enjoy dining on weeknights; loss of my spending is not income that can be replaced easily because there is normally much excess seating capacity on the nights when I do dine out. So if this good restaurant raised their prices, I am priced out; i.e. NO REVENUE. I used to think that prices were where they were because that was the level the market would accept. How naive of me to believe that when all along, the restaurateurs were simply doing their little bit of charity by feeding me at a price which wouldn't even recoup their costs I would ask Wolf-Tasker and Van Haandel to bear in mind that in this market, you are faced with limited demand. If you want to rally the troops to combat and "raise your prices," go ahead. Just don't be surprised if the odd empty seat starts cropping up here and there. Or if you feel the lash of latex against your cheek sometime soon. Edited for bad punctuation.

Daniel, look on the bright side, at least if prices go up, McConnell will stay in Melbourne.

=R= ←

Pat, loved your eyewitness account Comment from a non-Melburnian... Flower Drum's and Circa's demotions were deserved, as was Bok Choy Brighton's. To be honest, I couldn't really see how BCB got a hat in the first place. The food is pretty run-of-the-mill, and short of the better than average wine list, I can't see what there is to really commend the place over any other eatery. Sure, that might be a function of the area it's located in and the population demographics, but the GFG is not a Michelin travel-oriented guide and shouldn't account for what else is nearby in awarding a hat. I do not know what to make of the comments reported in The Age about "we don't charge enough...our best people are heading to Sydney, Singapore and Hong Kong." I am acquainted with one of the Singaporean groups who nabbed a good Melbourne chef quite recently, and to say that people here aren't paid enough because Melbourne restaurants don't charge enough is not really a valid explanation. If restaurateurs keep complaining that margins are razor-thin, if prices were increased overnight, I don't think their first reaction would be to pay their staff more out of the new largesse. And I also don't suppose there might be an element of supply and demand at play here as well? I mean, fancy thinking that they could raise their prices and their overall revenue would increase proportionately! And these comments were made in the context of upper range eateries such as Lake House. I don't know about fellow eGulleteers, but if prices were increased by any decent margin at pricey eateries, I would need to take a long hard look at how often I dined out and where I did so. Bear in mind that I don't have an expense account and feed my habit out of my wage packet. Chefs Office, this might be more your line, I think...

In Australia, "seafood sticks," always battered, are a feature at every fish-n-chip shop. Quality of the batter is greatly variable, but it is served as is, with a slice of lemon and a pile of greasy chips. Speaking or surimi / kamaboko experiences, I was taken aback the other day on a weekend away to Queensland's Sunshine Coast. I asked for a seafood stick to go with my fish and chip order, and the staffer said "Certainly, would you like it battered or crumbed?" I have never, in all my years living in Australia, been offered a crumbed seafood stick before, so I opted for crumbed. The verdict: excellent, and not a greasy mouthful anywhere.

Ah Leung, the beans you used seem much fatter than those that I used to get in Malaysia. Ours were much skinnier and looked drier, almost semi-fried crispy, like the ones in Shaya's picture. Do you know of any differences in the variety of produce used, is it just things growing differently in different countries or is it cooking styles?

This is a great thread, and I look forward to picking up further tips as it develops. I thought I might share a story which may be relevant. A while back, I was at a "two-hat" restaurant in Sydney located in one of the city's iconic landmarks. The hat system works like Michelin stars, with three at the top. This restaurant has since inexplicably gone on to win three hats. Anyway, my table was being "served" by a waiter who quite clearly wins the "worst ever" award in my books. He seemed to spend lapses in service making unwelcome remarks and inappropriate gestures to my rather attractive friend while describing the oyster special that evening. He also spent some time performing the "pulling tea" trick with his water jug and a glass behind our backs, trying to project the image of a multi-talented Lothario, who somehow ended up waiting at tables instead of pursuing his true calling at the circus. I ordered an oxtail starter, which was pretty bad. The meat had been picked off the bone, which I would rather not have done but I don't count it as a fault, but the meat, which you would expect to be gently chewy, gelatinous etc etc after many hours slow-cooking, had numerous hard corners and edges to it which made it unpalatable. Other members of my party tasted it and came to the same conclusion. I asked the "waiter" in the politest possible way, not that he deserved the courtesy, to please remove the dish as it was poorly done. He does this, comes back and tells me "Chef XXX has tasted the dish and he sees nothing wrong with it. However, we will take it off the bill. I should let you know, sir, that we have had seventeen covers order the oxtail this evening and we have not had a single complaint except for yours." At this point, I lose it. I have been eating good oxtail all my life and resent this bastard who questions my judgment. So I tell him "Well, obviously you have had seventeen covers who have never had good oxtail before." Chastened, he retreats to the kitchen, and service actually picks up from that point on. But for me, the night is well and truly lost. I scarf my replacement scallop dish (ordinary) and ask for the tab. True to his word, the oxtail does not appear on the bill, I walk out the door for KFC and never return to the restaurant again. Politeness to a point is necessary, but there are times when you have picked a dog of a restaurant or waiter and nothing polite or courteous you say is going to change things. This chap clearly didn't have any "personal problems" and clearly took delight in making a spectacle of himself. Don't think I enjoyed this for a minute. I like to think that I treat my fellow humans with decency, but there comes a time when the aggrieved diner must take charge and tell the waiter where to put his attitude. If the consumer is paying, and paying handsomely, for a service, he is entitled to be taken seriously and to derive some satisfaction from it. I would appreciate comments on this string of events, my conclusion and whether my reaction was justified in the circumstances.

Can I assume that the caterer simply picks up the cutlery after the event and does the washing up? It's not much more difficult to wash a plate that to wash a fork so maybe that's it.

How about Le Bouchon in Changkat Bukit Bintang? Not a steakhouse, but being a French place, they do a good grilled sirloin and tournedos Rossini. The owners also claim to use goose foie gras, which for some reason is incredibly hard to find in Sydney.

Eliot, I can only add to the chorus of applause prior. Wonderful post. Robuchon seems almost laconic to the point of being withdrawn. How is his command of English?

There's a place on Hunter Street (other side of Hunter Connection) called the Malay-Chinese takeaway. Always very packed and very good. But again, only open for the lunch crowds.