Review: Suburbia

Instead of another meal at Braise or Chinois by Susur Lee (although I suppose I could have given Il Lido another try), I thought I would try something new after coming across a restaurant in Sentosa's directory named "Suburbia", and I was rather tickled by the restaurant's setting in the beautiful surroundings on the fringe of Sentosa golf course.


Nestled against rolling hillocks, the scenery is so pleasant that the majority of the restaurant is in fact dedicated to al fresco dining, which can be a little daunting at night when squawking cockatoos fly overhead. As with all outdoors dining, however, I can well imagine that the pleasantness of the experience will largely be dictated by the vagaries of the (recently very mercurial) weather.

The menu is extensive, ranging from classics like Waldorf salad, to hearty fare such as grilled beef tenderloin


My appetiser of cream of wild forest mushrooms was thick, with coarse bits of mushroom adding both texture and flavour. Having said that, though, I did think the soup could have been thinned out with some vegetable stock, so as to produce a smoother, more liquified offering.


S had the Lobster Thermidor, which had been sauteed and then, it would appear, baked with hollandaise sauce and grated parmesan cheese, and served with new potatoes. S had no complaints about how the dish tasted, but I felt that in terms of presentation, more effort could have gone into sprucing it up: the lobster was meant to be the star, it was true, but it looked naked and, ironically, lifeless as it lay forlornly on the stark white plate.


I ordered the honey-spiced French duck breast, as I was intrigued by the "caramelised Sarawak pineapple", with pink peppercorn and grand marnier sauce. I suspect this was a local interpretation of duck a l'orange, but there were a few little hiccups with this dish. First, although the helping of duck was very generous indeed, I thought the duck breast was a bit tough, which was an indication that the duck was a little old. Second, apart from a thick round of pineapple sitting at the base of the dish, there wasn't much pineapple flavour to speak of. Third, I wasn't sure that pineapple was a suitable substitute for orange, as unless the pineapple is unripe, it tends to be much sweeter than it is sour, and the characteristic tanginess of duck a l'orange is lost. Still, it was a valiant effort.

All in all, Suburbia is a pretty decent place to have a meal in Sentosa if you're not looking for something that's too fancy, and while it may not measure up to the more impressive offerings in Resorts World Sentosa, there's no reason it can't be considered for a nice family meal.

Suburbia
30 Allanbrooke Road, Sentosa
Closed Mondays
Tel: +65 6376 5938
Website

Review: Keystone Restaurant

Whoever owns Keystone Restaurant really has a thing for rocks. "By its nature, a Keystone is an architectural feature, which... encompasses strength and resilience, and its mighty characteristics make it the most integral part of every structure", the restaurant's website declares.


Fair enough, I suppose, but it's only if we remember that "keystone" also describes a type of limestone does that explain why all the tables are set with grey and black tablecloths, or why the waitresses are all kitted out in ashen suits, and why the plates have slate inlays.


Even the bread, it would appear, is in theme. Not that I'm complaining; the jet black sphere of focaccia bread, dyed with (I think) squid ink, is served piping hot, and when broken open exudes a lovely aroma of rosemary and olives. I'm not usually impressed by bread at restaurants, but I must say this was excellent.


The restaurant considers itself modern European, which unfortunately means a penchant for the menu to describe everything in only proper nouns ("Pistachio & Peanut Butter | Custard | Brittle | Chocolate Pool"), but, more positively, also a willingness to explore different flavour and texture combinations, such as an amuse-bouche of toasted tomato crostini with bone marrow, which was both crunchy and unctuous.


Modern European doesn't necessarily mean a lack of Asian flavours though, as the lobster and ginger consomme demonstrates. The broth, perhaps darker than I would have imagined, carries with a subtle heat and the distinctive taste of the ginger rhizome, while the supple ravioli enfolds the lobster meat like an upmarket shrimp wanton.


A starter entitled "Shimeji and Shiitake" was not exactly what I had expected, for I had envisioned the mushrooms being the main event, but it turned out that "Baby Spinach | Asparagus | Fennel | White Truffle Emulsion" meant the dish was in fact a baby spinach salad with mushrooms. Still, the delicate nuttiness of the spinach leaves, together with the earthy mushrooms, and what appeared to be pine nuts rather than fennel seeds, made for a fairly enjoyable salad.


The petite portions of the appetisers are misleading, however, as the main courses soon revealed. The sous vide Norwegian salmon, glazed with kome migu miso, is enormous, and a generous bedding of julienned sugar peas ensures that there's always something to go with it. Sous vide is a marvellous way of cooking a fatty fish like salmon, for it ensures that the salmon does not become tough and leathery, but instead retains its oleaginous mouthfeel and beautiful colour.


Unfortunately, sous vide technology was not entirely sufficient to prevent my La Sirena chicken breast from drying out slightly (as far as I'm concerned no Western chicken breast can beat a properly-prepared Hainanese chicken rice breast), though it was a valiant effort, and with a sauce of melted Gruyere cheese, it was easily overlooked.


The desserts at Keystone are, perhaps, the keystone, for the passionfruit cake was the perfect combination of light, fluffy coconut sponge and sweet passionfruit sorbet, served with an intense raspberry sauce to counterbalance the sugar content.


The valrhona fondant I had was a thing of beauty - having baked these things myself, I know how difficult it is to make them appear attractive, but Keystone's version was perfectly formed, without any hint of cocoa dusting or any of the other common imperfections. Served with a sudachi (a Japanese citrus fruit) sorbet, and with peach spheres (really they were globules rather than true spheres), I could think of no better way to end the meal.

Food at Keystone certainly does not disappoint, but at $38 for three courses and coffee, Keystone's set lunch seems somewhat steep to me, especially for a relative newcomer located in Stanley Street, which is its biggest drawback, for it is impossible to find a parking lot at lunchtime. Perhaps it would do well to remember that a "keystone" species is also one that has a disproportionately significant effect on its environment, and if Keystone Restaurant aspires to that position, there is still some evolution in its future.


Keystone Restaurant
11 Stanley Street
Tel: +65 6221 0046
Website

Review: Novus

Disclaimer: The meal on which this review is based was made possible and paid for by the good people at FoodNews, a food media consultancy, to whom I should acknowledge my substantial thanks for their unstinting hospitality.


Earlier this year I had lunch at Novus, a modern European restaurant situated in the delightful National Museum of Singapore (which, to my great shame, I must confess to never having properly visited). I had quite enjoyed that lunch, and was looking for an opportunity for a return visit, so it was by happy coincidence that I received an invitation to a tasting of a new summer truffle menu the restaurant was unveiling.


For some reason, I had always thought that Novus was a molecular gastronomy restaurant, and as such it was never really on my radar. After two visits, however, I can safely say that that is a misconception, save for the fact that executive chef Stephan Zoisl, having spent some time in Heston Blumenthal's kitchen in The Fat Duck, has incorporated a few valuable avant-garde techniques in his cooking.



Novus is a very large restaurant, and that is evident from its mouthful of a name: Novus Restaurant, Bar, Cafe & Courtyard. The restaurant itself has a long central bench/couch, with tables on either side of it, and flanked by another row of tables against the tall arch fix windows, which in the daytime let in a generous amount of sunlight. With a seating capacity of 48 in the main restaurant, 60 in the dining room, 60 in the cafe and 50 in the courtyard, Novus is an ideal venue for events and conferences, and is often used as such. The size of the main dining hall also meant that the lighting that evening was a little dim, so some of the photos may not do sufficient justice to the food, but I'll try to make up for it with a more detailed review.


An amuse-bouche of tuna tartare and salmon roe, atop a petite crostini drizzled with aceto balsamico combined both sweet and sour, with just enough saltiness from the roe to awaken the appetite for the meal that was to follow.


One of the things I really like about Novus is the amount of care that goes into making your dining experience a pleasant and memorable one. Capitalising on the idea of a museum visit, Novus thoughtfully prints little placards containing bite-size tidbits of information about each dish, and waitstaff place them next to you as they serve each course, ensuring that you are never left wondering what has gone into your food, and more importantly, contextualising the key ingredients of your dish, so that, for instance, you appreciate what goes into the making of buffalo mozzarella. Oddly, however, there was no information card on the summer truffle, which I have since discovered is a species of truffle, visually similar to the black truffle, but of a less intense aroma, which was evident throughout the meal, as, despite the generous truffle shavings on many of the dishes, I was surprised to find that the scent of the truffle did not dominate, as I had expected, but languished subtly in the background.


We were served multiple dishes from each course to showcase the summer truffle, beginning with a veloute of Jerusalem artichoke. I quite enjoyed the mellow nuttiness of the soup, which went particularly well with the delicate flavours imparted by the truffle shavings.


The foie gras anglaise was an unusual method of cooking the goose liver: the main event was a custard made with duck consomme and goose liver parfait, within which was also concealed gingko nuts, stuffed morels, roast foie gras slices, duck confit, all topped with truffle slices. This version of foie gras was not really to my taste, unfortunately, as I found the custard rather runny. On the bright side, however, the fats in the foie gras were able to soak up the perfume of the truffle slices, making each mouthful an almost ephemerally truffle-scented one.


Novus's version of beef carpaccio uses 200-day aged grain-fed Black Angus beef tenderloin, with a quivering poached egg in the middle, surrounded by mozzarella spheres and cherry tomatoes, and sprinkled over with shaved pecorino. The carpaccio came in generous quantities, so much so that the dish nearly resembled a beef tartare in its robustness (and the poached egg), so I was grateful for the luscious mozzarella pearls and the juicy tomatoes, which made the dish less heavy, and more complexly textured.


Main courses were up next, beginning with some ocean trout stuffed with summer truffles and konbu seaweed, resting on a bedding of parsley creme and potato sabayon, and adorned with cottage cheese gnocchi. One of the drawbacks, I think, of having a "themed" menu, is trying to figure out how to incorporate the themed ingredient with the main ingredient, and the trout dish was an example of this. I really enjoyed the trout and its accoutrements: the fish was silky and melting, the gnocchi was soft and supple, and the parsley creme was lovely, but I could not quite tell how the truffle added to, or improved on, an otherwise fantastic combination. To me, the truffle shavings seemed like a distraction at best, rather like the proverbial gilding of the lily.



What of the next dish, which was an organic chicken breast stuffed with truffle salsa and cooked en sous vide, served with root vegetables and truffled potato gratin, and sauced with a dark glaze? Here I thought the addition of the truffles made sense, in that the delicate flavour of the chicken benefitted from an extra fillip. As for the chicken itself, this was where the advantages of sous vide cooking presented itself, for the chicken breast was moist, juicy and tremendously tender. I was not, however, much taken with the potato gratin; for some reason, it was swimming rather unabashedly in cream.



The last of our main courses was an impressive plate of sliced Black Angus beef tenderloin, with wild mushroom duxelles and black summer truffle, a colourful melange of new potatoes, radishes, celery and bell peppers. Accompanying this kingly offering was a side dish of "triple-cooked French fries" - potatoes boiled, chilled, fried, chilled again, and then deep-fried. It is difficult to do justice to this complex dish, which seemed a riot of sensations, textures and colours. The tenderloin was exceptional - uncompromisingly meaty, with just a hint of truffled earthiness - and the French fries were likewise an artful combination of technical sophistication and gastronomic fulfillment.


I was having more than a little difficulty taking shots of the desserts, so the restaurant very kindly turned up the lighting (seeing how well the dessert photos turned out, I did think I should have asked for more lighting from the start). Truffles no longer made an appearance at dessert, but were replaced by more conventional ingredients: in this case, a layered creation of white chocolate and raspberries, draped with dark warm chocolate sauce. I was a little sceptical of the white chocolate to begin with, but my doubts were put to rest as I savoured the mild creaminess of the white chocolate and the contrasting tartness of the raspberries. While perhaps one of Novus's simpler dishes, it was nonetheless undoubtedly effective in its powerfully concentrated flavours.


A signature dessert at Novus has to be the Valrhona Chocolate Test, an indulgent series of mini-desserts arranged in ascending order of cocoa content, namely, a 38% aerated chocolate mousse, a 55% chocolate souffle, a 66% chocolate creme anglaise, a 72% chocolate truffle and a 85% chocolate sorbet. Like something out of the mind of Willy Wonka, this is quite simply a chocoholic's fantasy, and it exhibits the kitchen staff's keen familiarity, if not facility, with chocolate-work. An outstanding tribute to a wonderful ingredient, the Chocolate Test was intoxicatingly enjoyable.


Our final dish for the night was an updated version of a fruit salad: an elegantly abundant assortment of seasonal fruits (blueberries, mangosteens, oranges, raspberries, strawberries), served with chocolate crumble, elderflower granite, wild strawberry espuma and cassis ice cream. Beautifully assembled, and with just the right amount of sugar and citrus, this was the perfect end to a sumptious dinner, cutting through some of the richness of the preceding courses.

Overall, I can't help being impressed by my two visits at Novus. Many of the dishes reviewed above are available for lunch and dinner (some on the regular menu and some only on the seasonal truffle menu), and in them is revealed Chef Zoisl's willingness to push the boundaries of both taste and presentation with his innovative and captivating style of cooking, as well as his ability to stay true to classic, simple flavours and combinations. Set lunch, at $32 for two courses and $40 for three, is prix fixe even with seasonal menus featuring white asparagus and summer truffles, and so is an excellent way of trying some of Novus's more unique offerings without having to break the bank. While prices are higher for dinner, given the generous portions, the inventiveness of the cooking, and the thoughtfulness of the service, I would not say they are unreasonable; rather, if you are looking for something apart from the usual French and Italian fare that eating out always seems to present, or a dinner destination with a charming and evocative ambience (with complimentary parking upon request), Novus might just be Exhibit A.

Novus Restaurant, Bar, Cafe & Courtyard
93 Stamford Road, 01-02 National Museum of Singapore,
Tel: +65 6336 8770
Website

Review: The University Club

You know food is taken seriously in a country when even schools play host to excellent restaurants. When I was in university, a good dinner was when the dining hall hadn't burned the potatoes, but with The University Club, the students at the National University of Singapore (NUS) have no excuse for not impressing their dates on Valentine's Day.


Located in the gleaming Shaw Foundation Alumni House, on Kent Ridge Drive, the restaurant can be a little difficult to get to if you don't drive, although there is a fairly extensive bus network within NUS itself.


The University Club is run by the owners of the Prive Group, so it's not surprising that the restaurant looks fantastic: an expanse of wood panelling greets you as you step out of the elevators, and when you enter the restaurant proper you realise that it's really quite a large, spacious set up.


Cleverly, however, diners are ushered into a smaller, more intimate antechamber where a large window affords a great view of the kitchen, and floor to ceiling glass windows allow a generous amount of light to come through, brightening up the dining room and ensuring that the decor is shown off to its best advantage.


The complimentary amuse-bouche was a little cherry tomato that had been hollowed out and filled with some beef carpaccio. Not bad as an introduction, though the tomato understandably lacked sweetness and juiciness.


The soup course was unusual: I do not believe I've ever had a mushroom consomme before. This was made mainly with shiitake mushrooms, which I think was unfortunate, as it gave the dish a distinctly oriental flavour, almost as if it were a herbal chicken soup. Perhaps something more earthy and robust, like cremini or portabello mushrooms, would have been a better choice.


My main course was a seafood risotto, which is an unusual choice for me since I generally prefer meats, but I'm glad I ordered it - topped with a generous helping of mixed shellfish and molluscs, the dish succeeded because of the rich stock used to cook the risotto. It was like getting two dishes in one: a starchy, filling risotto, and a piquant, fragrant bisque.


The University Club also does a credible slice (more a slab, really) of roasted pork, with a generous amount of crackling. While it looked delicious, it might be too heavy for delicate feminine appetites.


Dessert was a flourless chocolate cake, which was decadent, but rather too rich (someone once told me that that's because eggs and butter replace whatever flour used to be in the cake, which, as Wikipedia explains, is not so different from molten chocolate cake). Replacing the coffee ice cream with something tart might have helped to balance it all out.

Overall, The University Club scores fairly well above average across almost all categories: food is interesting, though perhaps not yet truly exceptional; service is prompt, efficient and friendly; and prices are fairly reasonable. Perhaps it's not too late to be a student again.

The University Club
Shaw Foundation Alumni House, Level 4
11 Kent Ridge Drive
Tel: +65 6779 8919

Opening hours: Noon to 2.30pm, 6.30pm to 10.30pm (Mon to Sat)

Review: Seven on Club

Editorial note: This review was requested by TimeOutSingapore. We were not paid for this review but we did not pay for the meal.

We arrived at Seven on Club Street on a weekday night and were one of the only tables at this cozy eatery. Club Street in the last few years, has become occupied by random furniture, bridal and eateries, from high end flower stores to seedy golf simulators and unfortunately, has lost quite a bit of its crowd and cache.

Seven on Club Street markets itself as Modern European and indeed, the food runs pretty conservative to the core, like the fake flowers in little black vases on each table. The decor of the place pairs heavy wooden beams with bright yellow decals and the place is helmed by Chef Jason Lee.


The first course was his take on the caesar wrap ($16), with a parmesan crepe rolled over a mix of lettuce, tomatoes and chicken. This was my least favourite dish, as there was too much oil, leaving my lips oily after eating. The tomatoes were local, light-coloured, grainy and watery.


We started dinner at 8.15pm and waited till 8.40pm for the first course but thankfully, the pace of the meal picked up as we went along, with the mushroom cuppuccino of porcini and wild mushroom ($8), arriving at 8.50pm. This was slight contradiction, as the cuppuccino, rather than being light and frothy, was a dense, solid puree of mushroom and bay leaf. It was small and thick and a tad salty.


The angel hair pasta of garlic prawns cooked in spicy sundried tomato pesto ($26) and was rich, hot and spicy. Although it was well-cooked, the pasta and garlic was overwhelming and again, left a thick, oily residue on the plate. I would have preferred the pairing of a hot pasta with heaped topping of cold, sweet ebi prawns to really bring out the contrast.


The main courses were really the star of the meal, at 9.15pm, we were served the basil crusted chilean seabass ($32) and the grilled tender and juicy beef loin fillet ($28). When I found out that Chef Jason used to cook at Chijmes, at Capella and the Upper Room, it did not surprise me. His main courses and even the presentation, were bright, big and strong flavours, the sort that would stand out in a show theatre or a darkened dancefloor dining room. At times, I felt that the flavous were too obvious, for example, I would have liked the basil crusted Chilean seabass with a blander and lighter sauce like a frothy-sweet carrot reduction, rather than laced with saffron sauce, tomato and parsley oil and balsamico reduction. However, the crispy tastiness of his seabass and tenderness of the beef loin were really good and the composition of the plating was very pretty indeed, almost theatrical, with the creation of a saddle on the loin with two peeled asparagus.


The dessert of piping hot individual Valrhona chocolate fondue ($14) was the passe epitome of Modern European but I did see on the regular menu, some more unique choices like coconut pudding and lychee panna cotta which I wish we could have tried. The chocolate fondue is Chef Jason's signature and to be fair, it was a lovely dish, warm, runny and rich on the inside.

Overall, I found the food well-prepared but not particularly imaginative, although there were mains on the menu like pork loin and duck breast. The menu is fairly small and concrete and not very good value for the pricing but the restaurant does boast a very attractive $28 set lunch. The service for the night may have been overwhelmed by our presence but that goes no way toward explaining the unsmiling, awful service- I've gotten more smiles from old granny stewardesses on British Airways. They were more sulky than stoic, didn't ask what doneness we wanted the meat, didn't top up the bread and of course, didn't refill the waterglasses.

Seven on Club
7 Club Street
Tel: +65 6327 9663
Closed on Sundays

Review: Restaurant Ember

It's been a while since I was last at Ember, and on this occasion we were there to celebrate a number of birthdays. I see that not many pictures accompanied my earlier review, so it's fortunate that I took more photos this time.

Almost all of us opted to have set dinners, and as the restaurant had only one order of scallops left, we had to choose between two salads.


The first was a relatively simply salad of slightly wilted baby spinach leaves, and topped with a generous helping of freshly shaved black truffles. In the middle of the salad lay a coddled egg, which helped to bind the aromatic scent of the truffle within the fibres of its proteins, and, when broken open, also served as a thick dressing for the salad.


The other choice was a Japanese-inspired salad very similar to what my sister calls King salad, save that Ember's version was sans tobiko and used mixed salad greens instead of mizuna leaves. On the whole, I think I preferred our version, as the mixed salad greens did not have the unique, mustardy taste or crunch of mizuna.


We also managed to snag the last order of scallops, which were wrapped with pancetta and seared to briny sweetness. Fresh and plump, and deliciously paired with crisp salad leaves.


Next up was an ebi pasta, where tiny sakura prawns are fried and/or roasted till they are golden and crunchy, and can be devoured whole. I actually think this is a dish which is best enjoyed chilled, for then the rich flavour of the prawn oil is given full opportunity to develop and intensify, so I was not especially enamoured of Ember's warm version, nor did I like the little bits of broccoli that had been added to the pasta, notwithstanding the extra colour they provided.


The mushroom soup, however, was extremely salty. When queried about this, the restaurant staff were surprisingly defensive, claiming that it was the result of the reduced chicken stock, and offering us hot water with which to dilute the soup. This may well have been true, but such treatment of customers' complaints is appalling: you might as well just give us mushrooms and ask us to make our own soup. A much more straightforward and palatable approach would have been to take the bowl back to the kitchen and bring out a new bowl of soup, suitably diluted. It always puzzles me why the service industry is so impervious to such common sense solutions.


The restaurant returned to form with the main courses though, as my lamb was superb: the meat on the cutlets was exceedingly generous, easily the largest cutlets I've seen recently, and yet was amazingly tender, cooked perfectly, as the rose-blushed hue indicates.


The steak also looked rather impressive, though I was not able to sample it for myself.


Similarly with the cod, draped with a lush sauce atop a bed of mushrooms. It looked rich and delectably inviting, but unfortunately I didn't try a bite.


A grapefruit sorbet followed; sharp, astringent and slightly bitter - all stark tastes to help cleanse the palate and herald the approach of dessert.


One (and it does seem like only one person ordered it) of the desserts was a crumble of sorts, which I'm not particularly fond of and so did not try.



What I (and, it appears, most of the people at the table) am fond of, however, is warm chocolate cake, and Ember's version is still dependably great. Dark and intense, rich and velvety all at the same time, so maybe it's true that good things come in small packages.

Ember has come of age, with all the good and bad that that sort of maturity brings. The food is sophisticated, although with some hits and misses, and service, since it no longer aims to please, can sometimes be a bit rough around the edges. Nonetheless, Ember is soldiering on, and continues to remain a reliable venue for special occasions and date nights, as long as the soup is not too salty.

Restaurant Ember
Hotel 1929
50 Keong Saik Road
Tel: +65 6347 1928
(Closed on Sundays)