Review: Taratata Bistrot

As the 10th year anniversary of 9/11 came and went, I couldn't help recalling what the dining scene was like 10 years ago, and musing to myself that, although there've always been hotel restaurants, it wasn't that long ago that the only place you could generally go for French bistro food was Au Petit Salut at Holland Village.


Times have changed since then, and these days you're more likely to find French food in the CBD, as is the case with Taratata Bistrot, a restaurant that's one of the latest editions to Keong Saik Road. Certainly, as you can see, the look is absolutely spot-on, what with the maroon-backed booths, salt-and-pepper tile flooring, and lamps that could pass for being gas-fired, though I'm not entirely sure about the lack of the door; the proprietors may have been trying to go for that Parisian summer feel, but it does get somewhat uncomfortable.

Set lunches are priced at $28 for two courses and $32 for three (including coffee), and the menu changes pretty frequently, but hostess Beatrice is always on hand to explain what's on offer, which, as you'd expect, is classic bistro fare like charcuterie, boeuf bourguignon and cassoulet. In the kitchen are the owners, Philippe Nouzillat and Bertrand Raguin, who are obviously old hands.


My crab starter salad was a little unexpected; the menu had said something about "stuffed tomato", so I envisioned an enormous heirloom tomato stuffed with fresh crabmeat, and as a result I was disappointed with what I received, as it was essentially a garden salad with some crab mayonnaise, which was resting on rather than stuffing a tomato cross-section.


The soup of the day was a mushroom soup, which was quite decent, if a little light-coloured. It is a bit unfortunate that we generally do not get tasty mushrooms in Asia, as it makes it difficult to satisfactorily produce staples like mushroom soup: it's a little bit like trying to create good sushi in Liechtenstein.


Sadly, I was rather underwhelmed by my main course, a grilled onglet steak served with a Madagascan peppercorn sauce. The steak was rather small, and it was smothered with sauce which contained a great deal of peppercorns, and as a result went from being piquant to excessively peppery quite quickly. The beans were nothing special either, but the fries were actually excellent.


I didn't try the sauteed cod fillet, but it seems the fries don't come with everything, while the beans do.


The creme brulee was served in a classically shallow dish, but also rather untraditionally accompanied by vanilla ice cream. Although it looked spectacular when it was first served, with a brilliantly scorched surface, I soon discovered that underneath that attractive crust, the creme brulee was in fact very runny, which is probably the last adjective you want running through your mind when eating a dish with eggs in it.


The molten chocolate cake arrived with some luscious vanilla ice cream and an unexpected moat of creme anglaise. The problem, I find, with serving something familiar like warm chocolate cake, is that small errors are instantly magnified by the lens of ubiquity, and as a result, the fact that the caked had been slightly over-baked was instantly recognisable due to the unusual viscosity of the chocolate lava.

Overall, I wasn't all that impressed with what Taratata had to offer. Still, the restaurant is new, and it looks like they're putting a lot of effort into new dinner menus, so we may yet see exciting things from the Nouzillat-Raguin duo. In the meantime, though, it's probably safe to say that the French bistro scene in Singapore is not yet exhausted.

Taratata Bistrot
35A Keong Saik Road
Tel: +65 6221 4506
Website

Review: db Bistro Moderne

Many apologies for the radio silence; work has become more than a little hectic, and dashing from deadline to deadline means that there never seems to be any time for blogging the places I've been to, the most recent of which is db Bistro Moderne, one of the celebrity chef restaurants at Marina Bay Sands.


I've been to db Bistro Moderne in New York, which was a pretty classy affair, notwithstanding the famous, rather messy db Burger, so I was surprised to find that the version in Singapore is a lot more traditional, with conservative red leather-upholstered booths, and lots of dark woods.


The food, too, was more classic and rustic than I had recalled it being in New York, starting with a plate of grougeres. This is over and above the usual bread basket, so if you're hungry (and you should be, as I explain below) it takes some effort to restrain yourself from pigging out on all the initial carbohydrates. It was somewhat disappointing, however, to discover that the grougeres were quite cold: while I can understand that it is much easier to bake them well in advance of service, it does detract from the enjoyment of eating what would otherwise be warm, light, airy, cheesy choux buns.


One of the special appetisers for the night was a lovely plate of sweet, juicy heirloom tomatoes served with goat's cheese. The combination of the crumbly, slightly tart cheese with the excellent flavour of the tomatoes was irresistible, though I thought the portion was slightly petite.


The Assiette Lyonnaise is advertised as a selection of terrines and cured meats, but I wasn't expecting what eventually arrived. Various terrines and cured meats had indeed been baked into a loaf, from which a slice is cut, giving you a cross-sectional view of some quince jelly, foie gras terrine, and other charcuterie, surrounded by a crust of pain de campagne. Very rustic, and very tasty.


I didn't try the spicey tuna tartare, but it was certainly an artfully presented affair, featuring a mix of harissa, cucumber, radish and sesame seeds.


The butternut squash soup was a little too thick for my liking, but otherwise was a resplendent orange, and full of the sweetness of the butternut pumpkin, with a few pumpkin seeds for added texture.


Moving on to mains, this was when we began to realise that, true to his word, Daniel Boulud had indeed kept prices roughly similar to his New York restaurant, without compromising on the size of the portions, which were, by Asian standards, enormous. The coq au vin featured a thigh and two drumsticks, served with a heaped portion of wild mushrooms, pearl onions, and spaetzle on the side. The sauce was as dark as molasses and looked as rich, but as I was struggling with my own main course I was not able to sample the coq au vin.


Rather ambitiously, my sister and I decided to share a massive cote de boeuf as our main course. It arrived with much fanfare, perfectly cooked and displayed with pride in a copper frying pan, and served with all the traditional trappings like bordelaise sauce and gratin dauphinoise. Robustly meaty and yet comfortingly succulent, the cote de boeuf was marvellous, though really it should be shared between at least three people.


The restaurant's version of steak frites is likewise a 8oz sirloin steak served with bearnaise sauce and french fries. While not as tender as the cote de boeuf, which was to be expected, the sirloin was tasty, and the fries were very nicely done: crisp on the outside but fluffy on the inside.


Almost everyone was too stuffed for dessert, and I would have passed too, were it not for the fact that a floating island is such a rare sight on a Singaporean menu that I just had to order it. Although suffering somewhat in terms of presentation (whoever heard of a rectangular island), the meringue was poached to an cloudy perfection, and the rhubarb-infused creme anglaise was a nice change from the plain, vanilla custard sauce.

All in all I enjoyed what db Bistro Moderne had to offer: a return to traditional dishes, with some updated touches thrown in, cooked with a deft hand, and at value for money prices. Although Marina Bay Sands is not exactly a convenient venue (Saturday night crowds are insane), restaurants like db Bistro Moderne, at least, give you something to come back to (although I suppose so does the casino).

db Bistro Moderne
10 Bayfront Avenue
#B1-48 The Shoppes, Marina Bay Sands
Tel: +65 6688 8528

Review: Le Figue

Restaurants with French names have a really hard time in Singapore. Ivan has documented how Absinthe's name has been butchered, and I suffered some physical discomfort at hearing someone announce we were going to dine at a new restaurant called Le Feegyoo.


This much-mispronounced new restaurant, as it turns out, is Le Figue, a French-themed restaurant that has replaced Whitebait and Kale at Camden Medical Centre. Named after the fig (though with an ungrammatical masculine "le" instead of the feminine "la" because chef Kelvin Lee wanted part of his name incorporated), and pronounced the same way in French as in English (after all, no one says "the plagyoo"), Le Figue is only a month old, but is already showing promise.


Intriguingly for its venue, Le Figue has decided not to maximise the use of its dining space - there are only a few tables and a capacity of, at best, 30 people. The interior of the restaurant is quite spartan, lines are stark, and the white and brown colour tones do not soften the austere dining environment. A narrow glass panel allows diners to look through into the kitchen, which seems to be all the rage these days.


A hard-boiled quail's egg was served as the complimentary amuse-bouche, with the yolk scraped out and replaced with a carrot veloute. An interesting concept, but a little too deconstructed for my liking.


However, Le Figue is not so postmodern that it does not include classics like French onion soup, though without the usual floating, flambeed gruyere croute, which comes instead neatly perched by the side.


My starter of porcini risotto with freshly shaved black truffles was a very classy affair. The risotto grains were just a shade under-cooked, but the blend of robust porcini, earthy truffle, piquant parmeggiano and creamy, luscious risotto was compelling and irresistible.


Others ordered the pan-fried foie gras with fig compote, which is delicious. The fig compote lends the jammy sweetness the rich foie gras needs, while the blini the lovely liver rests on bulks up the dish.


An intermezzo followed; red fruit sorbet. Pleasantly palate-cleansing, I was looking forward to the main course.


Despite comments from my family that Le Figue's menu is rather limited, there is actually quite a lot to choose from if one wants to be adventurous. There is the usual fish course, which I of course did not order, but I believe it was a cod dish.


For those who fancy slightly darker meats, there is a stunning dish of duck breast elegantly plated with a strip of soothing cucumber and some root vegetables. The duck breast was slightly too undercooked for the ladies' tastes, but the staff were very accommodating and whisked it back to the kitchen for some extra cooking.


Le Figue offers some beautifully cooked lamb chops that are not only gorgeous and meltingly tender, but also come with a substantial amount of meat on the bones, which is not always the case when ordering lamb cutlets. Paired with an assortment of vegetables, I can think of no cleaner way to enjoy lamb.


My main course of boneless quail stuffed with haricot beans, foie gras, duck gizzard and mushroom ragout was a revelation: technically complex, the quail emerged very succulent (possibly courtesy of some sous-vide treatment, though I speculate), moistened by the melting foie gras and sweetened by a slight drizzling of balsamic vinegar. My only regret was that the dish is far more substantial than it appears - the haricot beans fill you up very quickly.


While Le Figue does not have a dedicated cheese trolley, the fact that they do have a cheese board is extremely encouraging, and shows that the restaurant's dedication to French food is not just skin-deep.


Desserts are elegantly put together, with a happy combination of classics and reinventions. One of the latter is the pistacchio creme brulee, served with fresh berries and a Tahitan vanilla bean ice cream, which I thought looked a little firm, but will appeal to nut-lovers.


A variant on panna cotta, Le Figue serves milk jelly with organic lemon and a champagne emulsion. Think of it as a jellied fruit cocktail.


Continuing with the fruit theme, you can also try the caramelised apple served on a flaky sable pastry with chantilly cream.


There is also the ubiquitous warm chocolate cake, just in case one does not feel like being healthy.

Conveniently located off Orchard Road, being situated in Camden Medical Centre means there is never a shortage of parking lots, and the restaurant is so hardworking that unlike many joints, it does not close one day of the week. Service is disarmingly helpful and friendly, as the restaurant patiently took my call and accurately verified my inquiries. In addition, Le Figue offers a very competitively priced set lunch at $28, which I think is quite a steal for the kind of food you get.

All in all, I think Le Figue is a magnificently underrated restaurant, and I hope to return in the not too distant future to see how the fig has ripened.

Le Figue
1 Orchard Boulevard
#01-01/02 Camden Medical Center
Tel: 6887 5383
Mon-Sun: 12pm-2.30pm, 7pm-11pm

Review: Absinthe

When restaurants move, it can be a sign that they're doing well. Sage now occupies new premises, and is still going fairly strong.


Oso has not only moved but has expanded and diversified, and the ground floor is now a dedicated French restaurant called Absinthe.


I came for lunch on a weekday, and Absinthe appears to be a popular spot for City boys who come to discuss bonds and stock splits in the midst of white tablecloths and moss-green walls, the latter inspired by the eponymous spirit.


Given Oso's reputation, I came expecting the same attention to detail and high standards in terms of food. Upon entering, the first thing I saw was a well-stocked cheese trolley, and a dedicated cheese section is definitely a Good Sign that we can expect great things from Absinthe.

Service is attentive and unstinting; manager Philippe Pau is always on hand to address every request and query, while Chef Francois Mermilliod puts in a personal appearance to obtain feedback (though he seemed less than pleased when I suggested a lighter menu for lunch).


Speaking of the menu, Absinthe's website does not appear to be operational just yet, and I didn't bother to take down exactly what I was having, so this is purely from memory. The goat's cheese starter that my mother had was not out of the ordinary, but pleasantly presented; the cheese curving across the toasted bread in a delicate, serpentine form.


My father had an order of mushroom soup, which I thought was rather too creamy and thin, though it did not lack a suitable burst of earthiness from the porcinis and truffle oil.


With St Pierre currently non-functional (I have yet to find out the story behind this; has it closed for renovations, or is it actually shuttered?), the new place to go to for foie gras is apparently Absinthe. Carrying an $8 supplement to the prix fixe, the foie gras is lovingly caramelised, creamy inside, paired with a blini and little wild hibiscus flowers that cut through some of the fatty, sweet richness.


Absinthe only offers a meat or fish dish as a main course in its set lunch menu, which (as mentioned) I think is rather too heavy for lunch. I don't understand how all these executives can wolf down a three course menu with a substantial sirloin and still remain awake for the afternoon meeting. While the sirloin was delicious, I would have preferred a poultry option as I'm not a great fish fan.


For some reason I was very full after my steak (it might have had something to do with having some of my parents' starters), but I can never bring myself to order a fruit salad as a dessert (which my father did), as it always seems to me a great waste of money: cut fruits and some syrup.


While my father had the fruit salad, I ordered a creme brulee tart, which unfortunately I was slightly too full to do complete justice to, but I did not quite enjoy the presence of berries within the custard filling of the tart. The mango sorbet that the tart was served with was also surprisingly rich and sugary; I would have preferred something more tart to balance out the sweetness of the tart.


Complimentary chocolates from Valrhona in place of fancy petit-fours round off a very satisfying lunch at Absinthe, and it doesn't take a visit from the green fairy to see that Absinthe, like its parent Oso, will remain on the food radar!

Absinthe
46 Bukit Pasoh Road
Tel: 6222 9068
Mon-Fri: 12pm-2.30pm, 6.30pm-10.30pm
Sat: 6.30pm-10.30pm
(Closed on Sun)

Review: The French Kitchen

The thing about going away for a while is that when you come back, you find a profusion of new restaurants (and an absence of old ones); such is the rapidity with which the restaurant scene changes here, and such is the fickle taste of the Singaporean consumer.



The French Kitchen is one of the latest restaurants to offer formal French fare, and is one of those places that suffers from a mysterious lack of custom, despite having everything going for it (except, perhaps, location, though being situated in Central Mall never stopped St Pierre).



While it does not make for very good photography, the dim lighting is perfect for a romantic dinner, under the friendly, unobtrusive and very competent stewardship of Jan Stroop, who brings his wry humour and impeccable service to bear.

In the kitchen are Jean-Charles Dubois and Jutet Lim, whose illustrious CVs are easily accessible on the restaurant's website, and who will ensure that your meal is both memorable and enjoyable.



Said meal began with slices of raisin and rye bread, which came with little tubs of thyme butter and mackerel paste (a tad strong for me but very well-received by my father), and an amuse-bouche of skinned baby tomato stuffed with fresh tuna, topped with a quail's egg and a parmesan crisp, nestled on a futon of creamy avocado mousse. I'm not usually a fan of fish, but as an amouse-bouche this was technically perfect: the baby tomato is a fairly exotic riff on a common ingredient, imparting a sweetness and acidity to the fish which was in turn mellowed by the neutral mousse, soft and cloudy, which then played off against the crispy parmesan. A kaleidoscope of tastes, textures and colours all encapsulated in one little ensemble.



The French Kitchen offers a fairly affordable degustation menu (6 courses, $88) and a very worthwhile set lunch (3 courses (many from the main menu), $36), both of which feature the lobster bisque, which is supposedly a Dubois family recipe. Served with prawn tempura and a slight flourish as the soup is poured before you, this is a great addition to any prix fixe menu.



Another French Kitchen special is the veal sweetbreads, which are lightly fried and paired with a creamy morel sauce in vol au vent pastry. I've not had sweetbreads for a long time, and was hoping this would rekindle my love affair with them. Unfortunately, the sweetbreads were stodgier than I would have liked, lacking the creamy consistency I am more fond of. Surprisingly, the combination of sweetbreads in a cream-based morel sauce is not overwhelmingly rich, the earthy tones feeding off each other rather well.



An apricot granite to cleanse the palate and we continued onwards through the menu.



My father, feeling peckish, decided to order a huge cote de boeuf, and naturally I was co-opted into helping him finish this rather spectacular side of beef. I've recently bought myself the River Cottage Meat Book, which is a carnivore's bible, and a well-cooked piece of meat, as the author appreciates, can be a true thing of beauty.



Such a beautiful piece of meat is to be enjoyed simply, without too many distractions. A velvety reduction, some garnishings, and a gratin dauphinois are all that's necessary to elevate beef into an artform.



The current meat course on the degustation is a braised angus beef short rib with pink garlic purée, onion and Vieux Comté cheese gratin, served with a shallot and red wine sauce. Slow-cooked to perfection, with layers of caramelised sweetness, and an extra shade of moodiness from the garlic, this is an utterly delectable dish.



Having had to underwrite half my father's beef, I could not manage dessert, but the degustation's peach melba is an update on an old classic, which really cannot go wrong.

Mondays are BYOB nights at the French Kitchen, which combines inventive cooking with attentive and professional service, and I would definitely place the restaurant on my list of "places to come back to".

The French Kitchen
7 Magazine Road, #01-03 Central Mall
Tel: +65 6438 1823
Website
Mon-Fri: 12pm-2pm, 7pm-9.30pm
Sat: 7pm-9.30pm
(Closed on Sun)