Julian Teoh

May I ask what the Melbourne consensus is on the "Spicy Fish" restaurant on the main Chinatown strip (think it's Little Bourke; showing my ignorance here, I know)? I'm quite fond of the place for one reason, and that's the spicy fish soup. Two of us went there recently for a quiet dinner for two, and the fish soup was an oversized pot of eye-tearing goodness. It was hot as all hell but tasty to boot, and it was so big that we ate our fill at the restaurant and managed to take home three takeaway containers full of beansprouts, fish pieces and broth. The accompanying dish of snake beans and chilli minced pork was undercooked and brooked no comparison to the spicy fish. Good value too, for $28.00 for the fish, you could feed an army, and we actually managed to feed said army the next morning with the leftovers. You could get out for around $14 - $18 per head, stuffed.

Justin North is a well-known in Sydney as a disciple of the school of unapologetic richness. A Herald article by Dugald Jellie, doubtlessly inspired by Steingarten, told the tale of how Jellie ate his way through Sydney's most luxurious restaurants and ingredients in one day. When Jellie visited Becasse, North's contribution was simply a grunted "We use a lot of cream and foie gras here." Sure Jellie was trying to work the journalistic angle, but it is telling to a degree. However, he tempers this (and the accompanying temptation to over-indulge) with a well-thought out elegance. One of his degustation menus featured something a parmesan and avocado veloute with chicken oysters, if memory serves, along with a petite roasted rack of rabbit rib as the meat course. For every dish that tips the cholesterol scales and thickens the arterial walls, there is a light and welcome respite. Where was I? Oh yes, Becasse is good.

If you're still looking for a place to visit in Malaysia, you can try the Ipoh Central Market on Jalan Cockman, Ipoh in Perak State. I haven't been there for a while, but they used to sell lizards and "other things" for eating, as well as the regular chickens, vegies, pork, dogs etc. Nice, rustic, dirty, wet, earthy, fantastic! It was also next door to the wet market located in Super Kinta, where you had live fish swimming in washing tubs. Order a decent sized fish and watch the fishmonger grab the threshing fish by the tail and slam its head against the ground. Beats iki-jime anytime.

Clearly, some of us are more forgiving than others Pein, despite my criticism, which was restricted to a single dish, I would still recommend Circa highly. I am inclined to think (and sincerely hope) it was probably an off day with the marron, but if things can go that wrong, I'll be giving that dish a wide berth. It's clearly not a good meat vs bad seafood problem, as the oysters (daily special) were quality. And the wine selection, which I presume shares a common cellar with the superlative Prince wine store, will bring a twinkle to the eye of lovers of imported wines. It is extremely hard in Sydney to find a restaurant wine list with a wide selection of prestige vintages, for example DRCs, and Dom Perignon can be purchased by the glass. The rest of the menu, service etc were all excellent. If the marron stepped up to the level of the other dishes, it would rate a "two to three" hats in my opinion. PS Quail eggs are cute.

I had dinner at Circa on Maundy Thursday. I'll admit I don't eat out that often in Melbourne, being from "north of the border," and my last Melbourne three-hat experience at Flower Drum (2005) was underwhelming. It was good, but for a restaurant that has been hailed the best Chinese restaurant in the country by so many critics, I was expecting a little more. Circa is a sexily dim-lit dining room located at the boutique St Kilda hotel "The Prince." Rattan cages are strategically positioned over the lights, reducing the glare to a nicely romantic level. Unfortunately, it also makes taking photos of the food rather difficult without a tripod, so you will excuse the lack of pictures. Amuse Bouche Demitasse of white onion cappuccino with truffle oil - a divine way to start. I'm not a truffle oil-hater by any means, and this was seriously good. The sweetness of the onions, funked up with discreet use of the oil, reminded me of some exotic seafood essence. We considered asking for one more, then thought better of it. We drink a Hidalgo Amontillado "Napoleon", the bone-dryness whetting our appetites for what we hoped would continue to be a superlative meal. Bread Three options on the night, white sourdough, organic sourdough and sesame wholegrain. All three were a little cold and stodgy for my liking, but that didn't stop me from eating my fair share of it. Entrees Rabbit sausage, rabbit schnitzel, crispy bacon, quail egg, truffled buttermilk custard Very mild, very tender. The quail egg was perfectly soft-boiled with a runny golden yolk. Crisped bacon pieces, angled skyward like those awful hot chips on the road from the City to Tullamarine, added a much-needed salty punch. Matched nicely with the passionfruit hints of the Leeuwin Estate "Art Series" Chardonnay 2003. Deep-fried claire de lune oysters with avruga Served in the shell, these little critters in their brown crusts and a little dollop of avruga "caviar" worked a treat. The batter was light and crisp enough to impress a Japanese tempura chef, without any suggestion of oiliness. Matched with a Yarraloch Arneis 2005, which had the zingy acidity to cut the opulence of the fried oysters. Mains Guinea fowl assiette, baby turnips, lentils Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Far and away the best dish of the night. Lentils were nicely al dente and resting in a lovely sweet and sour sauce. The guinea fowl was surprisingly mild for a game bird, but you won't catch me complaining. Marron, rockfish braise, Sardinian couscous After a taste of the guinea fowl from my partner's plate, this brought me down to earth with a thud. It looked sensational - a perfectly halved marron on a mound of white fish and ginormous grains of Sardinian couscous. Our charming waitress brought over a gravy boat and poured a fragrant shellfish stock over the lot, creating what was effectively a rich man's "bouillabaisse." It was awful. The marron was watery and the rockfish was braised beyond moistness. The fregola was watery and uninteresting (sense a common thread here?). And after the theatre of having the stock poured on as if it were some Grand Unifying Theory of Culinary Delights, the stock itself was too thin to unify anything, much less tasteless marron and overcooked fish chunks. Pre-dessert Layered Shot glass of vanilla pannacotta, raspberry jelly and peach sorbet This must be the trendiest pre-dessert in town. I have seen at least three versions of it in the past couple of months in Sydney restaurants alone. That said, being common doesn't make it bad, and it was a most welcome reprieve from the disappointment of my main course. Despite the end of the peach season, the sorbet maintained a nice peachy zing, and the vanilla pannacotta was textural perfection. Dessert Circa Snickers At this point, I am full. But this is a pretty good dessert to share between two. It is nothing like the Per Se Snickers bar, which looks like something wacky from outer space (OK, Mars, if you must). Circa's version has a base of peanut nougatine, a layer of caramel ice-cream, quenelles of chocolate mousse slathered with peanut caramel and sandwiched with two sheets of dark chocolate. Philippa Sibley from est est est is now entrenched here, and the sweet offerings are definitely a feather in Circa's hat. Summary I was impressed. And so I should be, for a bill of $214.00 for two. But three hats? Personally, I cannot forgive the complete indifference of the marron main, which was an orchestra of ordinary bit players playing to different sheet music. In retrospect, I should have skipped the main and had an extra dessert, but then again, I'm sure Ministers Downer and Vaile have their regrets too. If I were judging this to the Sydney restaurants that I have eaten at, I would rate it a comfortable one-hatter to two-hatter. Service is also excellent, but a "three-hatter," whatever that means, cannot afford a monumental lapse in concentration that we suffered in the marron dish. To prove that I am in no way biased against Melbourne restaurants, I enjoyed a calming Easter Sunday lunch at the new Vera by the Middle Brighton train station. Having the train from Sandringham rumble past every twenty minutes or so simply added to the charm. Vera would easily rate a hat in my books.

Useful link here. I have been to the markets in Holland Village and Chinatown - OK but probably not very exciting after you've been to Thailand and Malaysia. As you would have noticed, the wet markets tend to congregate in the "heartland" areas such as Toa Payoh and Geylang. Here, the obsession with space economy and the consequent need for high-rises isn't so obvious. Off-topic, but I remember hopping on the MRT to Geylang for some wonderful frog porridge and thinking that this wasn't so unlike a small town in Malaysia. http://www.entersingapore.info/country/Sho....htm#Wetmarkets

Tabou and Bilsons do decent versions, both restaurants from varying ends of the hauteness scale. Bilsons' cassoulet was remarkably rustic given the fact that it is likely the most classically accomplished French restaurant in Sydney. Decent-sized (read huge) serve too. PCL, if either Tabou or Bilsons have it again (I think they were taken off for the warmer months), do give it a go. Shal, you should be upholding the honour of the Harbour City. We don't have sex in hazmat suits

I agree that there should be some form of protection for intellectual property inherent in culinary creative efforts. However, to impose a standard would be problematic. "Distinguishable variation" to the naked eye is one aspect - the degrees of olfactory and palate sensitivity vary greatly between people, and there are established categories of "supertasters" whose palates are clearly far more sensitive than the average human. I'm thinking along the lines of Australian copyright law (relevantly, as chef robin works in lovely Melbourne), where the categories of copyright inhering is restricted to artistic works, literary works, musical works and dramatic works, and does not purport to be inclusive and unlimited as the US statute. The first problem one would face would be to attempt to pigeonhole a dish into the existent categories. Would you apply a "dominant purpose" test as to whether Chef Achatz's, or anyone else's food, would be a "work of art?" Even if it passed that test (and reproduction of artistic works is among the categories of prohibited conduct in the Copyright Act), again, the degree of reproduction and how you would make a solid finding on that basis is what troubles me. Since the "wrong" occurred in Melbourne, and if Australian law applied, I cannot see, with respect, where food would fit in. It SHOULD have the same protection; morally and ethically, I think we're on all fours, but under the law as it stands, I cannot see any potential remedy. At this point, if there any Australian copyright lawyers out there, please feel free to correct me.

Steven, I am glad you raised the multisensory nature of the food as bestowing upon the dish its uniqueness as a medium of expression. You had earlier adopted your position that the copier is not at fault because he is working off the same recipe, as the recipe is merely an idea and a list of ingredients and techniques, but in reproducing the expression of the idea. My only issue with that argument is that it would be a very brave trier of fact who would say that a dish is so similar in terms of our sensory perception such that copyright has been breached. After all, the copier might be working off the same song sheet but may well produce a different result taste and texture wise. And if so, to what extent would any similarity be bearable before copyright is breached?

The Sydney Morning Herald has come out with a short about this topic and notes deco 75's post in the "Interlude food similarities" thread about Mark Best's chaud-froid egg and caramelised stuffed tomato with twelve flavours. Best's response: "'I've never claimed it as my own in any way,' Best (says), maintaining the dish has evolved, including the addition of star anise ice-cream and 'turning it the other way.'"

This forum has become so long that the facts are now being misconstrued. Wickens never staged at wd-50. Check your facts before flinging mud. ← Wickens did stage at Alinea, and perhaps more to the point, the vast majority of the dishes lifted did come from Alinea (I think it was 14 at last count) and not WD-50. I intended "there" as an indication of a collective of where he staged. However, in the context, I note that I did only previously refer to the WD-50 dish. I did not intend to say that he staged at WD-50 and therefore retract that statement, and thank deco75 for pointing that out.

At the risk of over-egging the pudding, surely it is a question of degree. Inserting myriad ingredients into a burger "as a concept in itself" is not original, seeing that that was how the burgers came into being. A group of individuals across the world may, without stretching the boundaries of probability, come up with the idea of inserting seal and whale livers into a burger. It has probably already been done without me knowing by lovers of seal and whale. On the other hand, mixing prawns with transglutaminase and extruding them into noodles with paprika and nori etc is not exactly in the same category. Here, we have uncommon (not to say unobtainable) ingredients being used for a unique purpose coupled with a novel technique. While Dufresne may have lifted the Fat Duck technique, he certainly didn't use the same ingredients or plating concept. The technique itself was borrowed, but the end result, I can probably assume, was vastly different in taste, texture and impact. In my view, the worst aspect of Wickens's behaviour was to actually stage there and lift the recipes, apparently verbatim right down to the recipe name and plating visuals. The assertion made by Gauthier in the Guardian article is misguided; Wickens didn't just taste the food and attempt to recreate it (in a kinder world, this might be called inspiration); in that instance, there would of course be the variables of whether he would be privy to what made the dish tick. In fact, he went to the source and pilfered it. I believe Lord Lewis had this argument with Heston Blumenthal on Chowhound before when Blumenthal arranged a stage for one of his cooks at Michel Bras. The coulant mysteriously appeared on The Fat Duck menu after said cook returned to England.

I am going to put in my two cents' worth. I loved the old Balzac in the Spot. Back then, it was nice and suburban, in the nicest possible way. There were just two waiters, Lela (co-owner), some bloke who tried to teach me how to eat skate (unsuccessfully, as I have been eating skate since childhood and was never in a mood to take lessons) , and only two chefs in the kitchen. Service was charming, always time for a good meet-and-greet. Oh sure, it was unbelievably busy, don't get me wrong (especially after the pre-theatre crowd had left), but it didn't seem to matter. We sat over three-course meals (plus pre-desserts and complimentary "demitasses" of mushroom cappuccino and truffle oil) that took hours and hours to eat. The waiters weren't in a hurry to turn tables, and believe me, I wasn't in a hurry to give mine up. The food was not tricksy, but it was very very good. Earthy flavours of slow-cooked osso buco, simple seared snapper on a garlic mash, whole peeled sweetbreads scattered with fried shallot pieces and a veal jus that transported me back to...whenever. Veloute with escargots, and a wonderful self-saucing chocolate pudding that gave me a fleeting glimpse of God. For years in a row while I was living in Randwick, I would book Balzac (well in advance, of course) for my birthday. I was lucky to have a local like Balzac. The people in Randwick and surrounds clearly thought so too; having had a wide selection of cheap and tasty Asian food around due to the large overseas student population, to have a top-quality classic French eatery was something to treasure. Entrees were $11, mains were $22, and desserts were $11. Life was good. Amongst my friends, we would discuss the next time we would eat there, and more often than not, we actually did. Then Balzac moved to wherever it is now. I had to try it, of course. I was disappointed. Now there were machinations on the floor, ruthless serving machines that put the Terminator (if he applied to be a waiter) to shame. Very slick, efficient, but very rushed and probably as a result, coming across as cold. While I sympathise with Shalmanese's dilemma, it does not surprise me that he got the reaction that he did. I don't think the old Balzac would have approached the problem the same way. The food was still decent, but now, there emerged things that signified the passing of the old Balzac. Truffles, foie gras. A degustation menu made up of seven small portions of the entire entrees list. Things that the old Balzac would never have stood for, in the same way that my local noodle shop would not stand for nitro poached eggs and espuma of tiger penis. Lela is still there. Skate bloke is still there. But they are mingling in a crowd of new waiters. The model has clearly changed. Matthew Kemp complained on TV about how he was making like $100 a week at the old place and had to open up a place with more capacity. I respect that, and I respect his right to make a decent living for himself in the same way he should respect my right to flog myself comatose in a law office 60 hours a week for a pittance. Balzac is still a good place to dine. Go by all means, and you will have a nice feed. But it is not the charmer that it once was. I haven't been back since early 2005, and I don't think I will again. I am probably being irrational to take that stance when I honestly think Balzac still deserves a hat and is still pretty good value. However, being in the new space reminds me of what went before and what we've lost, and I cannot bear to face that.

Daniel, I guess we can ask ourselves how old Alain Passard was when he achieved two stars, or when the Brothers Pourcel attained their treble? I think Passard was 26 and the Pourcels in their very early thirties. I am not suggesting that Chef Robin should be compared to people of that ilk, but age has never stopped anyone having an original thought. PS Kiyomi Mikuni in Japan is apparently famous for having a kaiseki menu with dishes which change everyday. That is a fair crack more than 200 dishes a year!

Tiger penis - the Indians aren't killing tigers for their penises (OK maybe they are, but guess who they end up selling to?) Don't some islanders in French Polynesia eat beche de mer?

Ozmouse, thanks for posting the links. Am I the only one who found it weird that The Observer decided to allocate Michelin stars to the French Laundry and Jean-Georges in 2003 when the New York Guide was only a twinkle in the eye of Mr Brown and M Naret (and the California Michelin still is)? The Observer's point was obviously novelty, to make an interesting headline. I'm not sure what novelty you'd generate by having Mr Megalogenis write an article, but NMM makes a good point when he says that Peter Carey wasn't trying to be a restaurant critic. In the same way, when Mr Megalogenis states that until two years ago he didn't know what a degustation menu was, it's quite clear that he doesn't intend to assert any credibility as a food reviewer and he's just calling it as he sees it. There is nothing wrong with writing a personal view of a meal, provided it doesn't contain any malicious concoctions and people take it on its own merits. As Chef Robin points out, he does not believe that this review will damage his business and I'm inclined to agree with him. Mr Megalogenis's disclaimer at the start of the article took care of that. While Mr Megalogenis's tone is dismissive to the point of being brusque, I'm sure that Chef Robin, along with other "creative chefs," can accept that the unique dining experience he proposes has the potential to alienate a segment of the population whose tastes do not run in that direction. The dining experience is necessarily subjective, but where food is presented as innovation, it is a truism that the potential for alienation increases dramatically. You need only refer to Rachel Cook's review of El Bulli for further evidence. Mr Megalogenis's comments about the toothpick and "having tried every course (an indication of palate fatigue for someone who doesn't normally indulge in tasting menus?) " are merely symptomatic of this. I don't think he was trying to assert that Interlude's food was all the same or misleadingly light, but merely an everyman's view that "gee, eight courses is a lot of courses and I'm still not full. I MUST have eaten everything on the menu. Ha ha, guys, this is pretty funny. Laugh with me. Now where's that toothpick?" I'm sorry that Chef Robin had to put up with Mr Megalogenis's review; regardless of the knowledge or the station of the person wrote it, it is never pleasant to see your work put down or dismissed. However, I'm much more inclined to trust the myriad others who have praised Interlude, rather than Mr Megalogenis's "punters'-eye view." Edited to add: Daniel, I wouldn't mind having the Observer send a National Rugby League prop forward to write a review of El Bulli. Speaking of chefs twisting knives into each others' innards and pureeing them into a bloody pulp, Neil Perry once remarked that "Nigella should whip her top off and be done with it." This coming from a person who later posed for a Vittoria coffee ad in nothing but a towel. I'm of the view that Nigella is a much more attractive proposition.

Pein, the classic "fifth quarter" cooking in Rome and elsewhere includes tails, feet, heads etc. which are not part of the internal organs. For example, the pride of many Roman offal restaurants is their coda alla vaccinara, slow-cooked oxtail in tomato and a hint of chocolate. However, that's clearly a matter of the scope of the discussion and how "offal" would be defined, I guess. Maybe we should call it "organ meats?" Also, could you please explain in what manner St John's was a revelation to you? You are clearly well-versed in offal consumption, so was it a matter of the quality of the product you were being served? I have never eaten at St John's, but it strikes me from the media materials that the reason St John's is getting so much favourable press is that it is retreating back to an older, more traditional and earthy style of food without the luxury ingredients and foams that every commis chef seems to be playing around with these days. Everyone seems to agree that St John's is good, so I am not disputing that (or in a position to do so!). But many good restaurants have gone bust for whichever reason. In other words, is St John's enjoying such success not so much for the quality of the experience that it offers but mostly because it is staking a claim for the old ways which, while they had inherent merit, people were prepared to forsake in the name of affluence?

In response to the Sydney query, For European food, you will often see sweetbreads and livers at Restaurant Balzac, Randwick, trotters at Becasse, City; boudin noir and sweetbreads abound at Tabou, Surry Hills; wonderful wonderful tripes at Bistro Moncur, Woollahra and the bone marrow beignet is the gastro-accessory du jour. For Asian food, you will find them everywhere, chicken feet and duck webs at yum cha; livers, kidneys and intestine soups; steamed blood cakes etc etc. Anywhere in Chinatown, Cabramatta, Eastwood. Thanks for all the offal talk. Reminds me of an absolutely wonderful offal meal I enjoyed in Rome, where they offered rigatoni con pajata. Milk-fed calves' intestines are served with the semi-coagulated milk inside (I take it they were slaughtered sometime soon after feeding) to accompany rigatoni in a tomato sauce.

Hi folks, I'm an occasional visitor to Singapore, but I really liked the Koufu food court at Toa Payoh Interchange (I think) near HDB House - does anyone have any thoughts on that place? Thoughtbox, you might like to know that the World Gourmet Summit is on in April and will be bringing international guest chefs and winemakers together for three weeks. Among the featured guests this year are Santi Santamaria and Kevin Thornton, so it may be worth checking out if you're there in April.

Just further on my last post, the tasting menu at Whampoa club is about 145 RMB, which is around $20. Stickavish, have you been to Sens & Bund? I've tasted Thierry Alix's food and it seems he was much more comfortable with classic French dishes such as bar de ligne and eggplant caviar. The tasting menu that I had incorporated some Vietnamese flavours which jangled like a schoolkids' musical recital. Perhaps it is a case of working in some influences to cater to an affluent crowd who would expect some Asian influences (seeing they are in Asia) but without truly understanding the use and underpinning of such flavours. Definitely a case of confusion food.

My borther, whose tastebuds I trust, tells me that Jereme Leung at Whampoa Club (if not mistaken, also located in 3 on the Bund) is serving excellent contemporary "Shanghainese" cooking. Apparently, Leung's soups and desserts (and actually, just about everything in between) are top-notch. I had to put up with his raving for days on end after he got back. Kent, you are spot-on re pricing. I was told that while the Shanghai meal was very well-priced, I couldn't get this quality food in the West anyway even if I were to pay through the nose for it.

Thanks for the insightful report, Corinna, and thanks also for keeping your promise to lunch at Thorntons, although I assume it wasn't too onerous a burden I'm just happy to hear that his cooking remains excellent. However, I must say I am quite surprised that the room (and FOH) were diagnosed as the problems seeing that he appeared quite confident of completing his set after moving into the Fitzwilliam. Clearly, people are not convinced by the new setup. If that's the case, the sooner he finds a new home, the better.

Very sorry to hear about Thorntons. Kevin travelled to Singapore for the World Gourmet Summit last year and I had a chance to interview him. He mentioned that there wasn't much of a market for his style of cooking in Ireland, and to an extent, that's borne out by the restaurant's profitability. But if he is relying on an overseas audience, and that appears to be the case, I hope the loss of this star won't be the financial death knell for this quietly-spoken and extremely talented chef. Corina, would you say that the quality of the food at Thornton's has deteriorated in the past year, or is it some other factor? Kevin's degustation in Singapore was excellent. He flew down some king scallops and sea urchins from Ireland and it was an absolutely tremendous meal among a very high number of tremendous meals. I recall thinking in between mouthfuls that it was much better than what I've had at some mainland three-star establishments. On a brighter note, well done to ginger chef. Keep the stars twinkling over Torquay. Edited for typos.

Someone's got to justify charging $50 for a main course