Lunch at Restaurant André, Singapore

This afternoon, I finally revisited my favourite restaurant in Singapore for a long-overdue lunch with an ex-student Dylan. He had been wanting to experience what it was like in a top restaurant and I thought there was no better place in this country to take him. With a multitude of awards to its name, and definitely more to come, Restaurant André is undoubtedly one of Singapore's finest gastronomic establishments. My first solo lunch here last year had been most impressive. It is very rare, if at all possible, to come across a restaurant in Singapore that possesses a complete mastery of both food and service, and Restaurant André simply ticked all the right boxes, just like during my best gourmet experiences in Europe and Japan. Naturally, I was very excited to be returning.

As requested, we got a lovely table by the window this time, great for the view outside as well as for taking food pictures with ample lighting. It should be mentioned that currently,  Restaurant André only serves its cheaper set lunch (price unchanged at 5 courses for $128++) on Wednesdays and Fridays, not every day as was the case before this year. Book well in advance as seats are extremely limited and demand is constantly high - even more so for the twice-a-week lunch service.

Dylan, who has truly blossomed into a fine young man
since I taught him a couple of years ago!

Today's menu
(it changes every day depending on what's best from the market)

Amuse-bouche: rice cracker topped with sea urchin emulsion, Oscietra caviar, gold leaf, egg white, dill and oyster leaves.

A crisp plain rice cracker made for the perfect backdrop to a multitude of tasty toppings to stimulate the palate. These included sweet and creamy sea urchin emulsion, juicy and briny caviar, and bits of oyster leaves which tasted exactly as their name suggests, adding a further touch of umami. The canapé was also kept fresh and light by small blobs of soft egg white and strongly aromatic dill leaves which complemented the deep taste of the other toppings perfectly. Scattered bits of gold leaf imparted a final hint of luxury to this pleasant morsel.

Starter: stone crab and sea urchin tartare, sour cream, compressed cucumber, cucumber pearls, elderflower jelly, chamomile powder, shallots, wild herbs (kinome, cress) and flowers.

This was a most sophisticated and wholesome salad. The luscious base consisted of chunks of shredded crabmeat mixed with sea urchin to form a sweet, succulent and creamy tartare, which was itself surrounded by a ring of light sour cream for balance. Discs of compressed cucumber were then carefully arranged on top, and their fresh concentrated sweetness and firm juicy texture were perfect complements to the tartare. Gelatinous cucumber pearls provided an additional bite and burst of flavour, while chamomile powder sprinkled on the discs and bits of elderflower jelly scattered throughout the salad imparted the most delightfully sweet floral aromas. Herb garnishes of kinome and cress completed this dish on a very clean and spicy note. Despite the multitude of seemingly disparate ingredients, they all came together to form a truly well-balanced and satisfying starter.

Bread and butter came next, and the coupling of a warm, crisp and full-bodied sourdough with silky, creamy and delicate Échiré butter from Western France was perfect. French butters are indeed one of life's greatest pleasures.

Soup: chicory soup with chicken skin and liver, millefeuille of chicory terrine, crispy fried cockscomb and tarragon emulsion.

This light foamy soup was very tasty and moreish. The mild bitterness and roasted coffee-like flavour of chicory was an extremely effective balance for the crisp paper-thin slivers of roasted chicken skin and creamy and musky pieces of chicken liver within the soup. On the side was probably the most unusual combination of ingredients I'd ever seen - deep fried aromatic cockscomb with a firm gelatinous crunch (like soft bone) contrasted with juicy and mildly bitter leaves of white Belgian endive arranged in layers, wrapped with a sugarloaf leaf and skewered. For further freshness, a surrounding emulsion of French tarragon, the best variety of tarragon and one of the four fines herbes of French cooking, imparted a distinctive sweet aroma reminiscent of anise and licorice. The emulsion's fruity and slightly astringent olive oil base certainly helped too. On the whole, this was a very well balanced dish with lovely touches of indulgence.

Fish: charred Spanish mackerel, served with sea lettuce, iceberg, celery, smoked carrot tartare, smoked eel sauce and seaweed powder.

This fillet of Spanish mackerel came from Japan, where it is known as sawara and is considered the best kind of mackerel. It is in season from late autumn till the end of spring, so we caught it just in time. Its flesh was perhaps not quite as oily as the ones caught in the height of winter, but still remained very moist and firm, with a characteristically rich taste. The skin was nicely charred, which added a nice crispy bite and further depth of flavour. Surrounding the fish were a variety of accompaniments selected to enhance its smoky umami. In particular, I loved the clear smoked eel sauce for its lightness, and the bits of carrot for their juicy sweetness amidst an unusual smoky depth. Sea lettuce (a kind of seaweed) was a first for me, and I liked its succulent texture and delicate briny taste. Shreds of iceberg, slivers of celery, and garnishes of shallot and cress kept this dish feeling very clean and crisp throughout. Indeed, it was quite remarkable how a dish could feel this delicate yet possess such an intense overall flavour.

Meat: poached baby lamb saddle, crispy wild granola with Israeli couscous, deep-fried lamb fat, roasted onions and potatoes, potato skin, smoked onion and potato jus.

The most substantial dish of today's lunch, the lamb saddle was absolutely tender and melt-in-the-mouth, with a rich gamey flavour thanks to the meat's ample fat content. This robust meat was aptly matched by equally full-bodied accompaniments, including a tasty jus of smoked onion and potato, with a good portion of roasted onions and potatoes to go along. The roasted potatoes were perfect - nicely browned and crisp on the surface, with a light and airy body - not the slightest hint of greasiness or starchiness throughout. Crispy bits of deep-fried lamb fat scattered throughout the dish, similar to deep-fried lard in a much humbler local hawker context, were utterly sinful but oh-so-delicious. For further bite and flavour, toasted granola with an intense nuttiness was paired with firm and chewy large grains of Israeli couscous made from hard wheat flour, a very different variety from the common fluffy powder-like North African couscous derived from semolina. A semblance of delicacy was provided by a fresh oregano garnish and ephemeral slivers of potato skin (how do they even achieve that thinness?!). I was completely sold on the sheer opulence of this elevated take on Sunday roast.

Dessert: whipped watermelon, red fruit Ispahan (rose and lychee sorbet, red berries, strawberries, rhubarb).

Anyone into French pâtisserie, specifically macarons, will know of the rose-lychee-raspberry combination known as Ispahan, created by the famous Pierre Hermé during his early tenure at Ladurée, and now a signature confectionery at both establishments. André's version of Ispahan featured a dainty sorbet combining the deep sweetness of lychees with the delicate aroma of roses, enhanced by bits of dried rose petals scattered over it. The sorbet was surrounded by a pool of whipped watermelon that had the consistency of a very light and smooth mousse. Hidden at the base of the dish were fresh berries, strawberries and chunks of rhubarb, which balanced the overall sweetness with their juicy tanginess. On the whole, this was a crisp and elegant dessert that contrasted very nicely with the rather heavy preceding meat course, almost like a palate cleanser.

Dessert: 'apple tart'.

Another creative take on a classic dessert, this was essentially a deconstructed apple tart. Within two concentric rings of soft cinnamon dough lay a generous amount of apple compote with fresh diced apples and caramelised apple & cinnamon film, poached blackberries and raspberries, chopped hazelnuts and seaweed crystallised with sugar, topped with a scoop of milk ice-cream.

I was particularly impressed by the crisp paper-thin apple film which carried a remarkably intense flavour despite its appearance, as well as the apple compote, which was soft but not mushy, and had a light tangy flavour much easier on the tastebuds than the typically cloying pie/crumble filling. The other fruit components also had a delightful juiciness. It was not all delicate and airy though; the deep, warm and mildly spicy aroma of cinnamon permeated this dessert, the milk ice-cream on top was absolutely luscious and full-bodied, while chopped roasted hazelnuts provided both a substantial crunch and a distinctive toastiness. Finally, in what must be the most unusual and inspired touch ever in a dessert, tiny stalks of seaweed crystallised with sugar contributed a subtle and astonishingly effective umami that, like jewels in the crown, really enhanced the elegant sweetness of this 'tart'. I couldn't have asked for a more sophisticated conclusion to an excellent meal.

As always, André came out to greet every table towards the end of the lunch service. I love his personal touch and hands-on approach, which sets him apart from many other celebrity chefs who are busy doing everything else except being in their own kitchens for quality control. This time I didn't miss the opportunity to congratulate him on the recent opening of his new restaurant RAW in December 2014 back in his hometown of Taipei, and we had a nice chat about his reasons for wanting to establish a presence in his home country. It's more than a business franchise; his patriotism is well-known and I got the impression that for him as a pioneer in the fine-dining scene, it was mainly about wanting to give younger Taiwanese chefs a chance to hone their craft in this industry, to showcase the possibilities of Taiwanese produce to the world and to create a unique brand of fine-dining - a fusion of European and Taiwanese culinary cultures. His heart is certainly in the right place, and it seems that RAW is already one of the most sought-after tables in the city; I hope I get to try it one day! But please André, don't leave Singapore just yet!

Service was stellar as always - warm, eloquent and knowledgeable, an experience here is probably as close to top European standards as you can get. There were a couple of new faces, but my two favourite members of staff, managers Stepan and Alain, were still around and they actually remembered me (maybe because I talk too much!). Unfortunately, I learnt that Alain would be leaving the restaurant very soon for his native France for an extended break, before deciding where in Europe to work next. Singapore has been his first and only Asian sojourn and he's loved it so far, but he feels it's now time to be closer to family. It's a real shame that we couldn't get to know each other even better in Singapore, but I did express my interest to stay in touch, and I know he'll do very well wherever he chooses to go. All the best Alain!

Needless to say, one can hardly go wrong coming here for the occasional indulgence - I can't wait for my next visit already!

'Epicure' lunch tasting menu at Jaan, Singapore

This afternoon, I finally found time to visit one restaurant that has been on my Singapore bucket list for the longest time. Jaan, a fine-dining establishment on the 70th floor of one of this country's top hotels, is popularly seen as a close competitor to Restaurant André. Hardly surprising, since Jaan had actually been started by André Chiang in 2008 (it was then called Jaan par André). Under André's leadership, Jaan made a meteoric rise to the World's Top 50 list, before André moved out of the hotel in 2010 to set up shop independently. The current head chef is Frenchman Julien Royer, who took over the reins in 2011, having previously worked with the legendary Michel Bras at 3-starred Le Suquet in Laguiole, and at 2-starred The Greenhouse in London. Jaan is currently in 11th place on Asia's Top 50 list.

For today's lunch I had specifically requested a window seat, boasting impressive views of the city's skyline. It has been some time since I came up this building! The name 'Jaan' derives from the Sanskrit word for 'bowl', and this small restaurant of 40 seats has a particularly eye-catching chandelier across the ceiling, made of Murano glass and silver in a contemporary style.

As with all fine-dining establishments, lunch here appears to be a much better deal than dinner. A quick 'budget' 3-course set lunch, with two options for each course, starts at $78++. However, in order to experience as many of chef Royer's signature dishes as possible, I chose the most extended 'Epicure' lunch tasting menu at $168++ for 7 courses, very good value considering that the same tasting menu at dinner (under the title 'Prestige') goes for $238++. There is an even longer 'Epicure' dinner as well, at $298++ for 10 courses, if you're feeling really flush.

The initial reception, from the lady on the ground floor who checked my reservation and showed me to the lift, to the front-of-house staff at Jaan who was waiting for me outside the lift, addressed me by name, and led me to the restaurant, to the service staff who showed me to my table, was extremely slick. Manager Frank Philippe also came over to exchange a few pleasantries just before the meal began. The atmosphere felt rather more formal than at Restaurant André, but nevertheless I recognise that certain restaurants do take some time getting warmed up to, especially for first-timers and single diners.

The meal began with a flurry of canapés served in quick succession, to drum up anticipation for the feast ahead.

'Snacking': saba tartare with horseradish snow and olive oil

I was pleasantly surprised to note local influences in the presentation of this delicate morsel, using a mini kueh pie tee shell. In place of the usual sweet and spicy fillings of dried shrimp and shredded turnip and carrot in the crispy shell, there was fresh and succulent saba tartare with a full-bodied oily taste, effectively balanced by the airy texture and clean spiciness of the horseradish snow, and given a slightly bitter and fruity touch by the blobs of olive oil caviar and chilli cress garnish. When taken all together in a single mouthful, the harmonious integration of textures and flavours was simply delightful; one couldn't have asked for a better kick-start to the palate.

(On the raised stone slab) pig trotter samosa with grain mustard and red onion; black sesame sponge with smoked eel, shallot and dill; walnut crackers with Cantal shavings

(On the wooden 'logs') lentil hummus and multigrain rye tuiles

Moments after I'd finished, an impressive array appeared in two parts. On a heavy stone slab were three more bite-sized delicacies, which were all very tasty and much heavier in flavour than the previous morsel. They also displayed the effective integration of various culinary cultures with Royer's French sensibilities. The Indian-inspired samosa had a thin and crisp pastry cover, filled to capacity with finely diced bits of pig trotter that were extremely succulent and creamy, due to high levels of collagen in this part of the pig (really good for your skin!). The full-bodied taste of trotter was aptly balanced by a spicy hint of mustard, and enhanced with a touch of curry powder and an aromatic sliver of red onion. The next was probably the most unusual combination; a soft and fluffy Japanese-inspired black sesame sponge acting as the base for firm and juicy cubes of smoked eel, with garnishes of shallot and dill. The nutty and aromatic sponge turned out to complement the deeply savoury eel really well (much like good ham and rocket together), with the garnishes further highlighting its smokiness. The last bit was probably the most traditionally French; the biscuit's characteristically deep nuttiness with a mild bitter tinge was a lovely foil for the abundant amount of cheese on top, with its buttery sweetness and earthy tones. The choice of Cantal must have been intentional, for it is the representative cheese of the Auvergne region of central France, in which Royer had spent a large part of his culinary apprenticeship.

Next, on two log-shaped wooden receptacles were a bottle of hummus, made with lentils from Saint-Flour in Auvergne and chestnut paste, and pieces of multigrain tuiles inserted in the wood to resemble fungi growing out of tree trunks. This was indeed quite a creative depiction of forest scenes in Auvergne, which must be really close to Royer's heart. The dark green hummus was really smooth and creamy, and whole lentils on top made for a lovely bite in each mouthful. The unusual addition of chestnut paste imparted a lovely deep earthy sweetness to the mixture, while the olive oil topping balanced its flavour with a delicate bitterness and fresh tangy edge, and enriched its texture even further. A touch of lemon juice and salt to taste completed this scrumptious and healthful dip. The paper-thin tuiles had a crisp and fragile texture that made for a lovely contrast with the thick and velvety hummus, whilst possessing a full-bodied nuttiness that complemented the rich taste of the hummus very well indeed.

Mushroom consommé with cep sabayon

I was filling up nicely, especially with that luxurious bottle of hummus, but we were not done with canapés yet! Just as I was scooping up the last bits of hummus, a small glass half-filled with mushroom consommé, deep-fried ceps and other herbs was served. A thick and creamy cep sabayon was then poured in by the server to fill up the glass - shame I didn't get a picture of the original presentation in time! This packed a real punch from the moment it arrived at my table - I can still smell those deep earthy aromas! The clear dark consommé was very well contrasted in texture and colour by its rich sabayon topping. Both were absolutely concentrated in flavour, and the bits of deep-fried ceps within provided a lovely fleshy crunch in addition to a subtle caramelised edge. This really was as potent as one gets with mushrooms, but I certainly wasn't complaining! I wondered what the main body of the meal would be like if the canapés were already at such a high level.

Finally bread and butter were served, signifying the start of the meal proper. There was only one type of bread (sourdough) which was very good - still warm at the table, aromatic, crisp on the outside and firm on the inside, just as it should be. What really won me over though was that cone of butter - I was informed by my server that it had been produced by none other than Bordier! Bordier's butters are rather difficult to procure even in France, and they are certainly not available in shops here - only at a few very privileged restaurants I presume. (In fact, this was the first time I was having it in Singapore.) This pure unsalted butter, made from the highest-quality milk sourced from Brittany and Normandy, was incredibly silky and creamy, with the subtle sweetness of fresh milk and a warm balanced taste on the whole. Spreading it on warm bread unleashed all its luscious aromas and made for one of the simplest and most pleasurable gourmet experiences imaginable. You wouldn't know how good butter can be until you've tried a Bordier.

(with sea salt on the side to taste, according to individual preferences)

(In the shell-like bowl) Hokkaido sea urchin, Oscietra caviar, cauliflower espuma and cubes, Obsiblue prawn jelly, touches of olive oil and gold leaf

(On the stone slab) Pain Poilâne with seaweed butter and chives

The first course arrived in two parts. The main component, a cold dish in a white shell-shaped bowl on ice, was the epitome of luxury - the combination of some of the most highly-regarded seafoods within gastronomic circles. There was a most sophisticated umami and elegant balance throughout this dish. The large, sweet and creamy lump of Hokkaido sea urchin (hidden by the generous amount of caviar) was perfectly complemented by the surrounding light cauliflower foam, and cauliflower cubes with a sweet juicy bite. This delicate overall sweetness was aptly enhanced by fresh and fruity drops of olive oil, and effectively balanced by the briny caviar topping. At the base of the bowl was a thin layer of jellied Obsiblue prawn consommé. One could not have guessed how much flavour this pale pink and seemingly bland jelly contained; it had a most astonishing sweetness with a delicate hint of brine, no doubt due to the superlative quality of the Obsiblue prawn. The only reservation I had about this dish was not having any real prawns within the jelly - shame that I could not experience its actual texture.

The Obsiblue prawn is an exceedingly rare blue species cultivated in New Caledonia, and becoming increasingly popular in recent years amongst top European chefs. The Obsiblue prawn is expensive to rear due to its much longer life cycle (9 months, compared to the usual shrimp's 3 months) and New Caledonia's cool waters, which make farming possible for only 7 to 8 months a year (as compared to tropical climates with perennial production). The trouble is all worth it though, as this prawn has been recognised for its superior flavour and texture. In fact, it is the only non-indigenous shrimp to be deemed fit for sashimi in Japan, no mean feat considering the extreme fussiness and conservative mindsets of top sushi chefs there.

The second part of this course was a single strip of Poilâne bread with seaweed butter and chives. This sourdough bread produced by the Poilâne family since the 1930s (with actual bakeries in Paris) is renowned for its thick, rough and crispy crust, with a dense but sufficiently airy interior, and a tangy flavour with hints of nuts and spices. This strip before me certainly didn't disappoint, and I was particularly enamoured by its complex lingering aftertaste. All that was needed to enhance this excellent bread were sparing amounts of seaweed butter and chives, for even deeper flavours and aromas. Not surprisingly, I really liked the butter for its lush creaminess and unusual umami.

'Beetroot collection' with artisanal burrata, horseradish cream, olive oil and honeycomb

The second course was particularly impressive for its creative techniques, showcasing one main ingredient in all possible ways. Aptly called 'beetroot collection', there were three varieties of the vegetable (in red, yellow and white) going through a variety of processes, including pickling (white disc), smoking (white slice), dehydration (red crumbs beneath the sorbet), and using the common red beetroot in meringues, a purée and a sorbet. In all these instances the beetroot's deep earthy sweetness came across in full force, with mild pickling and smoking contributing even more complex flavours. I also enjoyed the various textures of beetroot in this dish, from crisp delicate meringues to juicy raw slices and the refreshing smooth sorbet. Two dollops of soft and creamy burrata with a rich buttery and milky taste provided an essential warmth and body to this otherwise light and clean-tasting dish, while touches of horseradish cream and olive oil freshened the palate with a fruity and spicy kick. A further dash of liquid honeycomb, with its sticky and chewy texture, was also very enjoyable. On the whole, this was a most vibrant and appealing salad.

55' rosemary smoked organic egg with Ratte potato espuma and balls, chorizo iberico, chickpeas, crispy buckwheat and chives

This course arrived in a very dramatic manner indeed - a single egg with a large bunch of rosemary in a cardboard egg box placed on a wooden pedestal, from which a dense dry-ice smoke infused with the lovely aromas of rosemary emanated. In another glass bowl were arranged the components that would make up the main body of this course - potato, chorizo, chickpeas and buckwheat. My server then proceeded to lift the egg out of its box carefully and pour its lightly cooked and runny contents into the bowl. There was nothing to fault about this dish; the star of the show, the egg which had been smoked with rosemary at a low and tightly-controlled temperature for a good 55 minutes had completely absorbed the herb's sweet aromas, and maintained an absolutely soft white barely encasing a fragile and creamy yolk. The yolk's vivid orange colour was proof of its quality and organic origins, compared to most other yolks which are yellow. Mixing this runny egg with the rest of the bowl's contents made for a truly luxurious experience. The potato espuma was very smooth and rich, and I also loved the finely diced chorizo, which had a firm and moist texture, and an intense flavour with a nutty edge that is typical of cured meats made from top Iberico pigs (presumably due to their diet of acorns). The chorizo's nutty edge matched perfectly with the popped crispy buckwheat grains that were scattered throughout the bowl - I thought that the latter was an particularly ingenious touch within this glorified version of bacon and eggs. Both the buckwheat and the chickpeas provided a lovely crunch in each mouthful. This dish, while both familiar and comforting, contained various sophisticated twists that elevated it effectively to a level fit for gourmands, beyond all that initial pomp.

Crispy skin amadai, with Berkshire kurobuta belly, grilled romanesco broccoli, cauliflower, parsley purée, miso caramel, and garnishes of radicchio, cress and shiso buds

This Japanese-inspired dish showcased the wonderful qualities of amadai, a premium fish and a kaiseki chef's favourite, particularly in Kyoto where it is also called 'guji' (see this recent review of Nakamura, which prepares guji the traditional way by grilling it with sake, and leaving the scales and bones on). Here at Jaan, the fish had been grilled to tender perfection, with a very smooth flesh that was flaky and slightly oily, similar to cod, but much sweeter and with a more elegant and balanced taste. The amadai's beautiful orange-red skin was remarkably crisp, as were its large paper-thin scales that had been carefully scraped out and deep-fried separately before being placed back on the fish. But that was not all; the lovely chunk of Berkshire kurobuta belly on which the fish sat had been grilled and glazed with a lovely miso caramel sauce that complemented the sweetness of both the fish and the meat perfectly while contributing a deep overall umami. The pork belly was utterly succulent and melt-in-the-mouth, with a rich flavour but still a good fat-to-lean ratio, so that it didn't feel the least overwhelming compared to the more delicate fish. It is somewhat unusual and challenging to combine fish and meat in the same dish, but the kitchen here achieved an effective and convincing result. The accompaniments provided a welcome freshness and healthy balance, consisting of parsley purée for its crisp and piquant aromas (due to the high levels of volatile oils in parsley) and detoxifying properties (parsley contains lots of antioxidants, vitamins and chlorophyll), broccoli and cauliflower for their delicate crunch and sweetness (plus I really liked the charred hint in the grilled broccoli), and the garnishings for their clean, spicy and minty finish. Of all the courses in today's lunch, I also felt that this dish had been the most beautifully plated, with a keen sense of line, colour and proportion, just as any great artwork would be.

Hay roasted Bresse pigeon breast, with a leg confit, pigeon jus, Landes foie gras, Hokkaido white corn, kale, Savoy cabbage, black trumpet mushrooms, a crispy tuile and touch of cumin

The final savoury course was first briefly presented to me in a mussel pot - a whole roasted pigeon with large cloves of roasted garlic, sitting in a bunch of hay. The beautiful golden brown roasted colour and the incredible aromas that emanated from the still-smoking hay really heightened my anticipation of this dish. The whole pot was then taken back into the kitchen, to be swiftly carved up and plated as shown. Truth be told, I was a little disappointed at how little meat there was on the plate (surely that's less than half the pigeon!) but nonetheless it was excellent while it lasted. The breast meat was very tender and moist, and its deep gamey flavour was well matched by the roasting juices as well as a small piece of creamy, velvety and musky pan-seared duck foie gras. The golden brown skin had a slightly crisp texture and a lovely charred edge. The leg confit was even more succulent in texture and richer in taste - I just wished there would be more of it! Complementing this indulgent meat dish were sweet and juicy grains of Hokkaido corn and soft poached leaves of kale (a superfood chock-full of antioxidants) and Savoy cabbage (a premium cabbage variety favoured by top chefs, known for being sweet and tender even when raw). Black trumpet mushrooms with their intense earthiness and a touch of cumin with its sweet and spicy aromas enhanced the full-bodied meat very effectively. Finally, a feather-light tuile with a delicate crispy bite provided a lovely contrast to the generally heavy textures and flavours of this dish. This was 15 minutes of unadulterated pleasure.

'Tropical': coconut foam, kaffir lime zest, mango & passion fruit sorbet, on a base of vanilla panna cotta

The transition into dessert was marked by an excellent mixture of tropical delights - at the base, a rich and velvety panna cotta bursting with the warm sweetness of real vanilla, balanced by a smooth and light sorbet combining the refreshing acidity and vivid aroma of passion fruit with the intense nectar of mango. At the top was a dense coconut foam with an elegant sweetness and balmy toasty aroma, punctuated by crisp astringent hints from the bits of lime zest scattered throughout. A lovely familiar way indeed to prepare the palate for the luxurious main dessert!

Choconuts 'Grand Cru': tastes and textures of chocolate, with hazelnuts

The French take their chocolate very seriously, and this dessert, made purely out of it, was the best proof of this adoration. The dessert consisted of several types of Valrhona dark and milk chocolates, processed in myriad forms and textures that complemented all their unique flavour profiles. Valrhona, a quintessentially French brand, was one of the first chocolatiers in the world to describe their chocolates like fine wine, hence the 'Grand Cru' title indicating the premium origins of their cocoa beans. Dark chocolate, which made up the majority of the dessert, came in the forms of a thick cream, a rich and smooth ice-cream with a dusting of crushed roasted hazelnuts, an airy and velvety mousse, a fluffy piece of sponge, a disc mixed with hazelnuts, and paper-thin leaves. Milk chocolate was featured both as very light and crisp meringue sticks, as well as a dense cream base for the plating of some of the other components. A couple of whole roasted hazelnuts coated in caramel completed this picture of chocolatey copiousness. I must have been in a slight food coma after this due to the sheer intensity and headiness of it all, but no regrets. A must for all chocolate lovers!

Cucumber sorbet, apple granité, marinated celery cubes and mint purée

Fortunately I didn't remain in that chocolate-induced stupor for too long. I was led back to reality by this sophisticated palate cleanser, which concluded the meal on a very clean and airy note. The cucumber sorbet struck me first by its consummate effervescence. It was a real breath of fresh air; I'd never had something quite so effortlessly weightless and transient. The apple granité on which it sat had an elegant crunch and sweetness. Nestled within the granité were remarkably tender and juicy celery cubes, with very little of their usual fibrous texture and bitterness. Mild pickling in syrup had added a lovely sweet edge to their warm anise-like flavour. At the base of it all was a small pool of mint purée; one can't go wrong finishing an excellent tasting menu with its cool spiciness. I felt balanced and whole again.

(On the 'log') rosemary smoked lollipop, canelé, passion fruit & banana marshmallow

(In the tray) mushroom macaron with chocolate ganache and bits of feuilletine, passion fruit caramel

I was really quite satiated by now but who can resist the final sweet bites that usually follow a gastronomic experience like this? These lovely mignardises arrived in two parts that once again reminded us of rustic country scenes in Auvergne; on the wooden 'log', I particularly loved the iced lollipop, which was made up of a small ball of rosemary chocolate ice-cream coated in a thin chocolate shell, put on a stick and placed in a small bottle with dry ice and actual stalks of rosemary. Similar to the smoked egg course, but on a much smaller scale, a thick smoke carrying the pleasant sweet aromas of rosemary was emitted from the bottle, making both visual and olfactory impacts. The canelé had a thick but absolutely crisp caramelised crust, concealing a soft and fluffy baked custard centre - what a lovely combination of textures! Most canelés I've tried had over-baked crusts that were too thick and hard, while their insides were too dense and sweet, but this hit all the right notes. The marshmallow was slightly spongy, with an effective balance in taste between the comfortable sweetness of banana and the vivid tartness and aroma of passion fruit.

In the small tray with twigs were placed two more morsels, one of them a passion fruit caramel that was not the least cloying; the rich, buttery and mildly salted taste of caramel had again been tempered by the astringency of passion fruit. Remarkably, there were also no traces of this soft and chewy bonbon stuck to the teeth (an all-too-familiar occurrence); everything just melted away smoothly in the palate. Finally, the most memorable confectionery of the day, a mushroom macaron with chocolate ganache, successfully matched the deep earthiness of mushrooms with the oaky intensity of dark chocolate. Bits of hazelnut feuilletine within the ganache provided further body and sweetness. As my teeth sank through successive layers of the macaron, the crisp shells, rich ganache and crispy feuilletine also made for a most striking textural effect. I should mention that it is extremely unusual to find macarons in which the sweet-savoury boundary is blurred (one notable exception being Pierre Hermé, who is famous for his oft-unorthodox combinations involving various herbs, spices and flowers etc.), so here I had a glimpse of the pastry chef's creativity and brilliance.

When I made the reservation I had asked to greet Royer at some point during the lunch, and I did remind the staff about this when I got there. However, my request was apparently forgotten and by the time I finished and asked again, he had already left the kitchen to attend a meeting within the hotel, so that was a slight disappointment. Notwithstanding this lapse, the service was otherwise entirely professional, if a little aloof at times. Ling, the young lady who served me most of the time today, was relatively affable and chatty, and I enjoyed listening to her thoughts about some of the dishes. She also informed me that Royer will be leaving Jaan soon, to launch his own restaurant at Singapore's upcoming National Gallery, scheduled to open in July. Given the quality of today's cuisine, I have no doubt that Royer's new restaurant will become one of the most popular openings of the year in the local fine-dining scene. I also await future developments at Jaan with bated breath, especially after Royer's current sous-chef takes over the reins.

Lunch at Restaurant André, Singapore

After a pretty long break from fine restaurants due to work commitments, I finally made time for lunch today at Restaurant André. The restaurant is the brainchild of Taiwan-born André Chiang, who had trained in France under giants such as Pierre Gagnaire and Pascal Barbot. Upon his return to Asia in 2008, he first made his mark in Singapore's gastronomic scene as the former head chef of Jaan restaurant in Swissôtel The Stamford, pushing it to international attention by making the St. Pellegrino World's Top 50 list in 2010, before deciding to set up shop in this small space just next to Majestic Hotel in the Chinatown area. His own flagship has since garnered numerous awards, including Best Restaurant in Singapore at the inaugural St. Pellegrino Asia's Top 50 list in 2013, and the Chefs' Choice Award this year.

Upon arrival, I was struck by the presence of an olive tree. As the maître d' Alain would later tell me, this is the only real living olive tree outside Europe! In this weather it is obviously non-fruiting, but it is indeed a fitting tribute to Chiang's French culinary roots, and a lovely gesture that transports diners immediately to another part of the world.

Waiting lounge

Private dining area / chef's table

Main dining room

The restaurant seems very popular amongst Japanese people, and I was literally surrounded by them on this occasion. They even have a Japanese sommelier on the service team. As you will see from the dishes very soon, this is perhaps not too surprising considering that the cooking often displays very strong Asian (particularly, Japanese) influences. Much of the fish and seafood is also imported daily from Japan, presumably for their quality. Chiang himself is a champion of nouvelle cuisine which advocates light, creative and beautiful dishes with strong regional influences, made only with fresh ingredients and natural seasonings, not dissimilar to the kaiseki aesthetic.

The rest of the staff is pretty international too, and with very impressive backgrounds; Alain is of Brazilian-French parentage and grew up and trained in France at top restaurants such as Pierre Gagnaire and Guy Savoy, while general manager Stepan is Czech and had been responsible for running the now-defunct Gordon Ramsay outpost in Prague before relocating to Singapore.

The main dining space was very elegantly appointed yet retained a charming shophouse feel to it. I felt at easy very quickly in this intimate and cosy environment.

Adorable ceramic doves by the window!

Chiang is best known for his 'Octaphilosophy' dinner menu, a tribute to his personal and culinary heritage, featuring eight courses that highlight one characteristic each (for example, 'Texture' or 'Terroir'). Lunch is however much cheaper at less than half the price for 5 courses, which is a good idea if you're just wanting to test out the place without breaking the bank. When making the reservation, I had requested for an extended lunch menu at a small supplement.

It is worth mentioning that only tasting menus are available for both lunch and dinner (i.e. no à la carte). Also, with two notable exceptions (which you will see later), no two dishes are the same from one day to the next, as Chiang fixes the menu only during the morning before the restaurant opens, depending on what he gets sent for the day. I do love this element of surprise, but only in the hands of a good chef!

The meal started off with an apt flamboyance; a whole array of canapés was served in quick succession, and this proliferation of colours and textures was very impressive indeed.

'Snacking'

These were thin crispy films of Japanese purple yam (beni-imo), Swiss chard and scallop. Note that I called them 'films', not 'crisps' or 'chips'. I have no idea how the kitchen achieved this, but the feather-light and translucent pieces were just bursting with incredible flavours and aromas. I loved especially the deep umami of the scallop one. Each bite was so brief and ephemeral, yet more than sufficient to tantalise the tastebuds.

Next came two stronger bites: chicken masala cracker with mint cream and cep mushrooms, and a disc consisting of various textures of onion (jellied, puréed and caramelised). These distinctively Indian morsels were very tasty. The cracker had an intense spiced flavour that was aptly enhanced by an earthy touch of ceps and balanced by some fresh and light mint cream. The onion disc had a surprisingly sweet flavour and was not as pungent as I thought it would be. The three different textures also displayed a sophisticated technique that was as effective to the palate as it was striking to the eye.

Next, a wooden box containing a deep fried prawn head and a roasted baby potato with aioli cream and chorizo coulis, on a bed of chocolate and garlic soil. The contents were all warm, and this was sheer comfort food. The prawn head done tempura-style was extremely light, crispy and fragrant. Its slightly heavier jacket potato-like companion was very tasty (you can't go wrong with an garlic-and-chorizo flavour combination) and still rather less starchy and more fluffy on the inside than I was expecting it to be. For me however, the truly inspired touch came in the soil - who thinks of using chocolate in this manner?! Its slight bitterness and fruitiness was a remarkably effective pairing for these morsels and for the intense garlic aromas permeating this box. This soil was so delicious that I was still eating it with my fingers well after I had finished the two main bites; I would have finished it if I weren't embarrassed about being in a fine restaurant! Upon seeing how much of the soil had been finished when he came to clear the box, Alain couldn't help but chuckle as well.

Lastly, 'gin and tonic' in a crispy nougat-like form on green olive soil. Again, no mean technical feat with the 'G&T' - no idea how the kitchen did it, but despite its chunky nougat-like appearance it was absolutely crisp and light, with no resistance or stickiness whatsoever when chewing. Each bite released authentically fresh and bitter flavours - a truly striking re-interpretation of G&T. The soil introduced a savoury dimension, but even though I do love olives, this dried soil version was a little too intense and briny for me, and threatened to overpower the 'G&T' even when the latter was just lightly dipped into it.

Amuse-bouche: blanched asparagus with textures of broccoli (puréed, fresh and deep-fried), macadamia shavings and miso cream.

The asparagus was crunchy, juicy and sweet, while the variations on broccoli highlighted different aspects of the vegetable's flavour. I liked the deep-fried bits best for their caramelised flavour and crispness. Macadamia shavings imparted a lovely crunch while dollops of miso cream enhanced the delicate vegetal sweetness of this dish very effectively with a deep umami. On the whole this was a simple, elegant, and wholesome way to begin the meal proper.

First course: lightly cured kanpachi (yellowtail) sashimi with a touch of yuzu vinaigrette, on a bed of fromage blanc. Toppings of tapioca pearls, Oscietra caviar, celery and mustard pearls, daikon strips, grapefruit pulp and olive oil.

Japanese sashimi with a French slant, the delicate flavour of the fish was wonderfully complemented by the yuzu vinaigrette, which was the first condiment to strike me due to its unmistakable aroma. The bed of fromage blanc, a fat-free unfermented fresh cheese similar to yoghurt, was very light and imparted a delightful smoothness to each mouthful whilst not overpowering the subtle flavours of this dish at all. The rest of the accompaniments also did their part in enhancing the fish. The caviar and olive oil in particular were of particularly high quality; the caviar had a juicy salinity to it beneath the thin gelatinous membranes, while the olive oil was incredibly fresh and fruity with a slight bitter edge.

Second course: 'white on white' - warm salad of cauliflower (shaved and puréed), fromage blanc, ajo blanco (white garlic) sauce, ika (Japanese squid) à la plancha.

This warm dish made an immediate impression with an intense garlic aroma combined with a lovely caramelised edge from grilled squid. Despite its monochrome appearance and seemingly chaotic plating, it tasted every bit as good as it smelled. The delicate sweetness and freshness of cauliflower and fromage blanc were perfectly contrasted by the rich and foamy garlic sauce. The cauliflower shavings had a pleasant juicy crunch while the purée was smooth and creamy. The solid bits of fromage blanc snow surely made a visual impact when the warm garlic sauce was poured over the dish, half-'melting' the snow into bigger viscous blobs. Hidden between the layers of shaved and puréed cauliflower were amazingly tender, succulent and tasty pieces of squid. We all know how easy it is for seafood such as squid/cuttlefish/octopus to be overcooked and become rubbery and chewy, so this was surely proof of the chefs' skills.

Third course: 'paella' of gambas and potage - with Mozambique prawn done two ways (pan-fried and deep fried), poached Japanese abalone and Spanish prawn, rabbit wrapped in Bigorre bacon, senbei (rice & nori cracker), edamame and piquillo pepper purées, and saffron-infused paella sauce.

Stepan announced this dish with, 'Now you don't have to leave the restaurant to be transported to Spain, on the other side of the world!' Indeed, they had taken me there with a deconstructed luxury version of the classic Spanish rice dish - although there wasn't a single grain of rice here, this dish was still absolutely comforting and bursting with flavour from all the premium seafood and meat in the plate. The Mozambique prawn stood out for its different textures (firm juicy body with a light and crispy head), the abalone for its tenderness, the rabbit for its rich gamey flavour aptly enhanced by the bacon wrap, and the senbei for its crispness and deep umami. All these were bound together by a generous pool of very tasty paella sauce, infused with the bright colour and subtle aroma of saffron. This dish, familiar in so many respects, also demonstrated a strong and effective fusion of Japanese and Spanish elements. Presentation-wise, it was really colourful and appealing when it arrived but too bad I couldn't snap a picture in time before the paella sauce was poured in, submerging the meticulous plating beneath!

Fourth course: 'champignons' - textures of mushrooms: puréed, grilled, blanched, dried and dehydrated (powdered), using black trumpet and cep mushrooms. Surrounded by herb oil and purée, and topped with shavings of Périgord truffle.

Mushroom broth poured in - heavenly!

For a mushroom lover this was pure bliss; the deep earthy flavours and aromas of mushrooms in their various forms were omnipresent and simply intoxicating. The incredible variety of textures present within just one main ingredient was testimony to the chefs' technique, and a sheer delight for the tastebuds as I worked my way through different layers in one mouthful. Carefully-shaved truffle discs formed the jewels to the crown. The surrounding herbs were a very good idea indeed for keeping the palate fresh through all this indulgence.

Fifth course: slow-braised Japanese abalone in seawater, konbu (Japanese kelp) risotto with okra and wild kelp coulis. Topped with grated botargo and a leaf of Japanese sea lettuce.

The basic ingredient of Japanese cooking, konbu, was wonderfully combined with an Italian staple here. For a while I couldn't quite decide whether this was more of a zosui (Japanese-style porridge) or risotto; both appeared to be equally credible options. This seemingly delicate dish had a remarkably deep flavour from konbu and botargo, while the rice grains had retained the firm and satisfying bite typical of a good risotto. The abalone came in much thicker chunks than in the earlier 'paella' dish but was still amazingly tender and easy to chew through - no signs of dryness or rubberiness whatsoever. The truly ingenious touch for me, however, was mixing okra (lady's finger) with the risotto to re-create an authentically rich, silky and creamy texture without actually using cream or butter in the cooking sauce. The result was a rice dish that felt really luxurious to the palate, yet remained extremely light, fresh and wholesome throughout.

Sixth course: 'memory' - warm foie gras jelly, Périgord truffle coulis, fleur de sel and Japanese chives.

This dish was clearly a tribute to Chiang's classical French training as well as a delightful re-interpretation of the popular Japanese side dish of chawanmushi (steamed savoury egg custard). It is actually the only true staple of this restaurant - part of the more elaborate dinner menu but also served at lunch. The foie gras jelly had a very soft and rich consistency and intense musky flavour, and it met its equal in the deep earthy aroma of the truffle coulis. A sprinkling of sea salt and chives was the icing on this petite but extravagant creation.

Seventh course: 24-hour sous-vide short rib, charcoal-grilled baby leek, XO beurre blanc purée, pickled shallots, shredded dried scallops, garlic bread crouton, beef jus.

The most substantial course of this lunch, this beef fillet was absolutely tender and juicy, and it had a most delightful crispy top layer as it had been pan-seared just before serving. Its rich flavour was well-matched by the creamy purée, which had a very familiar taste due to the addition of XO sauce (which, despite its name, is actually just a spicy dried seafood sauce popular in Cantonese cooking, and does not contain any cognac). Dried scallops, another popular ingredient in both Cantonese and Japanese cooking, were also featured, and contributed a lovely deep flavour to the delicately sweet and juicy leeks. The latter also went hand-in-hand with the crispy garlic bread croutons and pickled shallots, both of which had a similarly pleasant pungence. On the whole, this main course was luxurious, really tasty and aromatic, and ended the savoury part of the meal with considerable aplomb. I couldn't wait to see what other surprises the desserts might offer.

Meanwhile, Chiang was doing his rounds in the restaurant and greeting every table, and of course I didn't miss the opportunity for a photo with him (thank you Alain for this!). I could only say to him how great the food had been so far, but he's probably heard it thousands of times now!

First dessert: 'pineapple cake' - shell of fresh pineapple containing a filling of small chunks of caramelised pineapple, and coated with fine biscuit crumbs. Served with vanilla ice-cream and coconut chantilly cream.

With this first dessert, Chiang finally returned to his personal roots. There is arguably no pastry from Taiwan more representative than pineapple cake (鳳梨酥). This posh take on the popular Taiwanese snack seemed somewhat plain and straightforward compared to the preceding dishes, but what really mattered was how it tasted, and on that count it certainly delivered. Texturally, this was a sheer delight with crunchy and juicy fresh pineapples encasing a filling of soft and pulpy caramelised pineapples. The biscuit layer of this pastry came as no more than a fine coating of crumbs over the outer pineapple shell, making it possibly the purest and most lavish pineapple cake I would ever eat. The accompanying vanilla ice cream and coconut cream were a very solid combination which enhanced the tropical slant of this dessert very effectively. I particularly liked the coconut cream which, though seemingly copious and cloying, was in fact extremely light, airy and aromatic.

Second dessert: 'Snickers 2014' - chocolate and peanut soil, caramel jelly, vanilla ice cream with fromage blanc and fleur de sel. The ball contains a parfait of chocolate and nougat, with a caramel centre.

A standard dinner item for the whole year, this was yet another deconstruction, now of a Snickers bar, with its components put together in the prettiest and most decadent forms imaginable. This dessert had obviously been designed to impress and surprise, though I did feel it was somewhat more style than substance. The main ball was pure comfort food if a tad excessive, considering how refined and balanced all the preceding courses had been. I particularly liked the base of vanilla ice cream with fromage blanc, which are not actually part of a Snickers bar, but helped to temper, with their own freshness, the somewhat cloying nature of the other components. A sprinkling of fleur de sel also imparted a unique depth of flavour to a dessert that might have otherwise only been described as being uniformly sweet. Snickers is after all neither the most sophisticated nor subtle of snacks, so these diversions were both essential and effective in a fine-dining context.

No petit fours followed the last dessert, which was a little surprising for me, but I was already very full anyway so I didn't mind just finishing like that. In any case one shouldn't expect all the bells and whistles for a significantly lower price at lunchtime.

My extended lunch had taken me longer than the other customers to finish, and I was yet again the last person to leave a restaurant. The staff however remained entirely professional, and when I was ready to go at nearly 4 pm Alain sent me off very warmly and without a trace of impatience. I can tell you that such levels of service cannot be taken for granted in Singapore, even in fine-dining restaurants; the idea of hospitality as a legitimate and professional career is largely non-existent in this country, which often relies on cheap foreign labour and students/part-timers with very little true commitment to the F&B industry.

Already in the heat of preparing for the dinner service.

I was well and truly impressed with my first experience at Restaurant André and felt that this was so far the only fine restaurant I've been to in Singapore that truly matched up to European standards in terms of food and service. The staff were attentive but not obstrusive, and Alain and Stepan in particular made my day with their friendliness and warmth, as well as knowledge of, and passion for, food and hospitality in general. They all seemed genuinely happy and proud to be working here, and the positive vibes were infectious. I can't wait to be back for the actual 'Octaphilosophy' dinner when my pockets are more ready for it!