Lunch with guest chef Giancarlo Perbellini at Dolce Vita, Singapore

Singapore's annual World Gourmet Summit is here again, and having received prior notification from personal friend and Mandarin Oriental's Director of Restaurants Jan Imhoff I knew I had to be back for lunch at Dolce Vita. This week, the restaurant is hosting 51-year-old Giancarlo Perbellini, president of the Italian Commission of the prestigious competition Bocuse d’Or for chefs since 2010, proud Verona native, and chef-patron of 2-starred Casa Perbellini in the oldest part of that city. Casa Perbellini is a surprisingly casual establishment with a large open kitchen, where diners may witness every stage of the food preparation. The restaurant purports to 'combine innovation and tradition in the choice of dishes', and for this year's WGS, chef Perbellini has created several tasting menus for lunch and dinner, featuring many of his signature dishes which you will read about very soon. As usual, I opted for the more expensive Lunch 2 set with an extra dessert ($128++).

I had previously written to Jan about Dolce Vita's tablecloths, which were usually somewhat crumpled and unsightly (a pet peeve of mine); he readily acknowledged that problem, and informed me that the hotel was in fact the process of procuring new and better tablecloths for its restaurants. True enough, this time I was greeted by absolutely crisp and white sheets, a lovely way to begin this bright and sunny afternoon. For a Saturday lunch service, the restaurant was surprisingly empty, considering the reputation of the chef and the extremely reasonable prices. Of course a meal here is never going to be very cheap, but I've certainly had far more expensive and worse experiences elsewhere in Singapore.

Amuse-bouche: zabaglione ghiacciato e caviale affumicato (frozen sabayon and smoked caviar)

A typical welcome from Casa Perbellini, this lovely bite-sized morsel consisted of exactly what the description said - a small dollop of frozen sabayon topped with a surprisingly generous portion of smoked caviar, and one single large grain of coarse sea salt on the side for additional flavour. This was all to be eaten in a single mouthful, and what a punch it packed for the tastebuds: the classic Italian sabayon, a creamy, aromatic and bittersweet combination of egg yolks, sugar and sweet wine, was simply perfect with the buttery texture and the deep, smoky, briny taste of the caviar. I was amazed by how such a diminutive portion could be this wonderfully stimulating, and really looked forward to the rest of the main meal.

Starter: wafer al sesamo, tartara di branzino, formaggio caprino all'erbe cipollina e sensazione di liquirizia (sesame seed wafer, seabass tartare, goat's cheese with chives, licorice sensation)

Next was a Perbellini signature, and the staple starter to his tasting menus. It consisted of three wafers sandwiching two relatively generous layers of seabass tartare, with a mixture of goat's cheese and finely-chopped chives spread thinly on the insides like a base layer of butter or mayonnaise. As my teeth sank through, the variety of textures and flavours was simply delightful. The contrast between the aromatic, crisp and feather-light wafers and the fresh-tasting and succulent tartare was most obvious, and the rather strong but sparse layers of goat's cheese with chives aptly contributed body and depth, without overpowering the overall delicate tone of this starter. Finally, a few drops of concentrated licorice emulsion were provided on the side in a teaspoon, from which one could lick off for an additional kick of bittersweetness in each mouthful. Very tasty and well-balanced on the whole.

Pasta: spaghetti freddi in insalata di seppie e basilico, gamberi marinati e profumo di limone (cold spaghetti in squid salad and basil, with lemon marinated red prawns)

It was at this point that Jan appeared and of course I was very happy to catch up with him at the table after a few months of not seeing each other (people in the hospitality industry work such long hours that it is virtually impossible to meet them socially outside their workplaces). I enjoyed this dish whilst finding out about recent developments in his professional and personal lives, and it is always lovely to hear that a friend is doing well.

There was nothing to dislike about this well-composed classic Italian dish. The spaghetti had a great al dente texture with a satisfying bite, and the delightfully fresh aroma of basil was present in every forkful. The lightly poached seafood remained tender, springy and moist, without the slightest rubbery hint. The marinated prawns were particularly memorable due to a subtle citrusy aftertaste that rode on their natural sweetness. The accompanying sun-dried tomato paste was no less stellar, with its deep tangy sweetness and thick chunky texture. Look no further for the best of Mediterranean produce!

Fish: tonno fritto al pepe, spuma di rafano cren e burrata (pan-fried tuna loin with pepper, horseradish espuma and burrata cheese)

Jan had to get back to work but very kindly offered me a glass of Ruinart NV champagne on the house, to go with the next fish course. This crisp, dry and mildly spicy nectar was a perfect complement to the full-bodied taste of the medium-rare tuna. The moist and meaty flesh was effectively balanced and matched by a horseradish foam thickened with burrata cheese. The clean spiciness of horseradish combined with the warm milky buttery taste of burrata produced a result that was both sophisticated and comforting. A dash of pepper and coarse sea salt provided further depth of flavour and highlighted the freshness of the fish. This dish was probably the simplest-looking one of today's lunch, but when high-quality ingredients are used, they can be allowed to speak for themselves without excessive adornment.

Meat: agnello con piselli e spugnole al profumo di eucalipto (roasted saddle of lamb with peas and morels, perfumed with eucalyptus essence)

This was the most luxurious and substantial dish of the day. The premium cuts of lamb were extremely tender, moist and flavourful, and carefully cooked to medium-rare perfection. The meat was further enhanced by its own roasting juices, and given a deep earthy edge with the addition of morels, which are currently in season (spring) and second only to winter truffles in fungi ranking amongst gourmands. For balance, green peas (the fresh crunchy kind, not the limp frozen ones) and pea purée provided a delicate sweetness, while drops of eucalyptus essence, though invisible on the plate, made their presence known by lightening the dish with sporadic fresh spicy hints. This course filled me up quite nicely, with just enough stomach space left for the desserts to follow.

Dessert 1: composizione per cassata (Sicilian cassata composition)

Cassata is the representative dessert of Sicily, a fruitcake consisting of fruit liqueur-infused sponge with a large central filling of ricotta cheese, candied peel, nuts, and bits of chocolate or vanilla. The sponge is typically covered in a green-coloured marzipan shell, which is itself decorated with elaborate icing patterns and more candied fruit. Cassata-inspired gelato is also popular throughout Italy, featuring a frozen version of the ricotta mixture.

Perbellini's deconstructed interpretation of cassata laid bare the components of this traditional cake in a colourful and artistic manner. A base of pistachio sponge (note the intentional green) was topped generously with ricotta cream, pine nuts and pistachios, fresh raspberries and chocolate shavings. By the side lay randomly-placed strips of candied orange peel, drops of raspberry coulis and chocolate and vanilla sauces. I particularly loved the soft, moist and fluffy sponge, which was the perfect foil for the rich and velvety ricotta cream. The other accompaniments additionally made for a lovely diversity of textures and flavours in each mouthful, and I liked how the whole thing was actually not too sweet despite its apparent richness.

Dessert 2: mascarpone e caffè (mascarpone and coffee) 

No dessert screams Italian more than tiramisù, and this seemed like a totally fitting ending to today's lunch. The base consisted of moist pieces of lady's fingers sponge which had been dipped in a heady mixture of coffee and coffee liqueur. These were then completely submerged under a thick layer of mascarpone cream, and topped with dark chocolate shavings and an elegant chocolate tuile. Not surprisingly, I was completely won over by the mascarpone cream, which was so smooth and rich and possessed a delightful tangy sweetness.

[N.B. Both mascarpone and ricotta (of the previous cassata dessert) are well-known Italian sweet cheeses, with the main difference that mascarpone is made from cream coagulated by acidic substances such as lemon juice, while ricotta is derived from whey.]

It was around this time that chef Perbellini himself made the rounds, greeting guests at every table, and of course I didn't miss the opportunity to thank him and resident chef Omar Bernardi's kitchen team for an excellent lunch. As I was not previously familiar with Perbellini's work, we also exchanged a few words on his cooking philosophies and his businesses in his native Verona - that's really one historic town I hope to visit in future, as I've only barely covered the country once as a tourist.

With chefs Giancarlo Perbellini (left) and Omar Bernardi (right)

Looking forward to the next chef's visit!

Delights of Kanto (9): Sushi dinner at Harutaka (青空), Tokyo

We didn't make it to Jiro's restaurant (the subject of the famous foodie documentary 'Jiro Dreams of Sushi'), but this evening we got close enough, at the restaurant of one of his best former disciples Takahashi Harutaka, who had worked at Sukiyabashi Jiro for 12 years. Surprisingly, Harutaka is much more highly regarded by Japanese foodies than Jiro's restaurant, if its Tabelog ranking is anything to go by (3rd place for sushi in Tokyo at the time of writing). It has also been promoted from one to two stars just a month ago, for Tokyo's Michelin Guide 2015. Furthermore, due to Harutaka's late enough opening hours, it has become the favourite supper venue of famous fellow chefs such as Seiji Yamamoto of Ryugin and Masahiro Yoshitake of Sushi Yoshitake, both 3-starred restaurants. With such endorsements, I knew I had to go when I came across this restaurant, researching top sushi places in Tokyo.

I should state at the beginning that reservations at top sushi restaurants in Tokyo are notoriously difficult. As a foreigner (even if you're living in Japan and speak fluent Japanese), you have to book through an existing Japanese customer or a hotel concierge service, and provide credit card details. Restaurateurs often claim that this is because too many foreigners book and then don't show up, something that the Japanese would never do, although I very much doubt the validity of this reason. After all, if one has taken the trouble to travel to the city and make the reservation at a top restaurant, it must hold a certain significance for him and he must want to be there. I myself have never had problems booking top restaurants in other Japanese cities, and Tokyo establishments seem almost unwelcoming by comparison. For this reservation, I had gone through an online concierge service Voyagin for a small administrative fee. (Sukiyabashi Jiro wouldn't even accept this; I was told by staff at Voyagin that they only acknowledge concierges from 5-star hotels.)

Harutaka's location, as with many high-end restaurants in Tokyo, is extremely obscure, on the 3rd floor of a nondescript Kawabata Building in the Ginza area - we spent a good half hour circling the area's narrow streets trying to figure out where it really was! Even staff of nearby restaurants we approached along the way didn't know the building. Finally, running about 10 minutes late for the 7.30 pm reservation, and already with a sore neck from looking up the sides of buildings, I spotted the discreet illuminated sign in kanji for the restaurant. What a relief.

The building is really narrow and the restaurant on the third floor is really just a hole-in-the-wall; the corridor was barely wide enough for me to pass through!

Fortunately, once past the noren, the environment got much less claustrophobic. This exclusive restaurant seats only about 10 at any time, but individual spaces are pretty ample and the atmosphere is cosy enough, though rather more formal than at Kyubey yesterday evening. The dinner service was already in full swing when we arrived. We were the only foreigners this evening. Our presence was promptly and politely acknowledged by Harutaka-san and his sous chef at the counter, and with typical no-nonsense Japanese efficiency the feast began once we were sat at our places and green tea was served.

There must have been some inconsiderate smokers outside the restaurant (as the building is shared with other offices) due to an unmistakable stench around where we were sitting, but I was assured by Harutaka-san that his entire establishment is non-smoking. He sent someone out to check after I expressed my concerns, and thankfully the stench dissipated soon enough and didn't return to ruin the rest of the evening. High-end sushi can be extremely subtle and complex in flavour, and diners are even requested not to wear strong perfumes and colognes, so cigarette smoke would have been utterly destructive. I mean, this isn't exactly a cheap salaryman's izakaya.

Harutaka-san only opens for dinner, and only two omakase options are available. We went for the sushi omakase at 20,000 yen. There is a more expensive option with sashimi and o-tsumami (side dishes) at 30,000 yen, but I had read numerous reviews about the latter not being particularly impressive, so I decided to stick to what Harutaka-san does best, as one of Jiro's top protégés.

By the way, I have seen several online reviews where customers complained that they were left out of dishes such as abalone, fugu, octopus, an uni platter etc. - they were probably unaware of this but to be fair to Harutaka-san, he will ask you at the beginning which omakase option you want, and if you specify the cheaper option, or don't understand him, you will get the 'basic' omakase as reviewed below. Yes, local/regular customers may get one or two extras (and why not?) but I believe that the treatment of all customers here is generally fair, regardless of nationality or frequency of visits. The frills do come at a significantly higher price, so please don't suffer from unnecessary food envy watching your fellow diners.

The sushi rice here was a little warmer than I was expecting (in fact the warmest of the three sushi restaurants I'd been to), and the fishes were served at a comfortable room temperature, which allowed their flavours to emerge most effectively. Sushi overseas is often served stone-cold in the name of freshness, but through all these experiences in Tokyo I already know that's not the way to go. Seasonings for both the rice and fishes were just right. Also, from the start, there was an impeccable precision to the form and size of each piece of sushi. The fish always enveloped the solidly-packed rice ball underneath perfectly, and every piece fitted comfortably in one mouthful. The fish was always at the right thickness for optimum texture and taste, and the proportion of fish to rice expertly grasped. I was extremely impressed by this constant attention to detail, at an even higher level than at Kyubey. One could even say that each picture-perfect nigiri presented before us was a work of art in its own right.

We started with hirame 平目 (flounder). Its lean and firm flesh with a delicate sweet taste made for a very pleasant beginning to this gastronomic journey.

Next was ika イカ (squid). Its beautifully translucent flesh was cut to just the right thickness so that I was still able to see the rice grains beneath its glistening surface. Because the squid wasn't too thick, it was also extremely easy to work through - no additional fine slits into the flesh needed as is usually the case, and not a hint of unwelcome chewiness at any point. Instead, it was very tender, with a lovely mild sweetness and slightly viscous/creamy mouthfeel. If you're not a fan of squid, this might convert you.

All this while I had been watching Harutaka-san's assistant constantly and deftly making slits into a particular fish for fellow diners, and this was to be our next course. As a pianist, I would certainly have thought twice about putting that sharp knife so close to my fingers and making quick narrow slits like these! Such preparation takes real skills and years of experience.

The result of this expert knifework was an incredibly beautiful piece of sayori さより (halfbeak). This fish was a first for both of us. It is caught off the shores of Japan’s Mie, Ishikawa, Hyogo and Hiroshima prefectures. Prized by the Japanese, it is expensive and usually served in finer restaurants. Visually speaking, this was probably my favourite item of tonight's dinner. The clear translucent flesh somewhat reminiscent of fugu (puffer fish) was slightly more thicky filleted than the previous two items, and had shimmering bits of skin left on (similar to kohada, which would come later). Numerous shallow slits made at equally small intervals were a true test of the chef's skills, as sayori is a very small fish, so if the knife goes just slightly deeper the flesh falls apart. These slits weren't just for aesthetic purposes, of course; they contributed a delightful layered mouthfeel and allowed the nikiri glazing to permeate through and season the flesh more thoroughly. The flesh itself was delicate, clean-tasting and firm, as one would expect from a thin, muscled fish, with only a slight hint of fishiness from natural oils.

The meal started to intensify quickly, and next was a piece of akami 赤身 (lean bluefin tuna), lean and succulent in texture, and full-bodied and complex in taste, as you might be able to imagine from its vivid red colour.

These tantalising cuts of tuna lay direct before me on the counter, and I could hardly wait for them to be served.

It was truly captivating to watch Harutaka-san make his nigiri with such effortless precision and finesse. Foodie theatre at its finest.

The preceding short clip showed our chutoro 中トロ (medium tuna belly) being made, and this cut of tuna had a much tenderer texture and warmer fattier flavour due to the greater presence of natural oils.

And now for the best cut of them all: ootoro 大トロ (fatty tuna belly). With its striped and even marbling and slender appearance, this was the most beautiful piece of fatty tuna I'd ever seen. It tasted every bit as good as it looked - utterly melt-in-the-mouth, and the creamy oily goodness delivered an explosive punch to the tastebuds. This absolute richness, coupled with a mildly sweet aftertaste, was unforgettable.

It was time to descend from cloud nine, and aptly we continued with a firmer and leaner, but equally strong-tasting cut of kohada こはだ (gizzard shard). As described in my previous review of Kyubey, this fishy and strongly vinegared item might be an acquired taste for some, but is particularly effective after that luxurious piece of ootoro. The slits in the kohada here were made even deeper and longer than at Kyubey, presumably to allow the curing to take place more efficiently, as well as for aesthetic reasons. I found the kohada here somewhat gentler in taste and less fishy than at Kyubey.

An even more refreshing nigiri followed. This was hamaguri はまぐり (clam), brushed over with a viscous nitsume. Its juicy crunchy texture and mild briny taste with a tinge of sweetness made for an excellent palate cleanser before the next item.

The next course was a most impressive cut of buri ぶり (amberjack). I was a little surprised when Harutaka-san told me it was buri, as it looked very different with its light pink flesh, intense marbling and no signs of red muscle or skin. He didn't elaborate further, but I guessed correctly that this was from the belly, which I've never actually tasted. This dainty-looking cut packed a real punch with its sweet oily flavour and amazingly melt-in-the-mouth texture. I'm not kidding when I say that it could easily have been passed off as a far more expensive slice of ootoro to unsuspecting diners. It was that good!

The indulgence continued with the best ikura イクラ (seasoned salmon roe) gunkan I'd ever eaten in my life. Look at those juicy glistening jewels! I have had it so many times before, occasionally in fine restaurants (overseas), and yet this was still a remarkably enlightening experience. This evening, I learnt that top-quality ikura is served at room temperature (not cold), and that it doesn't 'pop' in the mouth - the fragile membranes simply give way due to the warmth of the mouth, unleashing a wave of briny buttery goodness that envelopes the palate. This was the first time I've had ikura that felt so smooth. My only regret was that it went down my throat way too quickly - I wanted to savour this sensation again and again!

A second palate cleanser followed, this time with another type of clam akagai 赤貝 (ark shell). It is high in hemoglobin, which explains its red color. In fine sushi restaurants, it is typically cut and presented in the form of a butterfly as you see here. Miyagi, Kagawa, and Chiba Prefecture have the largest catch of ark shells in Japan, and the best season for ark shells in Japan is from November to February. The highest quality ark shells are harvested in deep waters free of pollution, full of nutrients and very cold, contributing to the clams' delicate sweet taste. Unlike hamaguri, the best akagai are usually eaten raw with a touch of wasabi, and brushing of nikiri instead of nitsume. This piece of sushi before me had a firm and chewy flesh, whose mildly sweet flavour and briny aroma slowly became more prominent with each bite. This is one shellfish that needs time getting into, and should be enjoyed slowly.

Moving on, we had a much richer piece of saba さば (mackerel). This was probably taken from near its belly, as its distinctive oily taste was still very much evident despite the curing. The meat was very tender and succulent, and coated with a nice layer of fat as you can see from the photo. It was definitely a better cut than at Kyubey last evening.

Our last palate cleanser of the evening came in the form of a kobashira 小柱 gunkan. While Harutaka-san's sous chef explained it to me as 'soft clam', these small pieces are actually the adductor muscles of the aoyagi 青柳 (mactra clam), commonly used in fine restaurants to fill gunkan sushi (of course, a few clams will be needed as each clam has only two pieces of this muscle). This was my first experience with this part of the shellfish and I found it extremely light and with a lovely spring to each bite - one of the most memorable pieces this evening, mainly for its texture, but also for its juicy sweetness. Kobashira is sometimes erroneously called 'baby scallop' because they are very similar in taste and texture. It was certainly very different from the tougher adductor muscles of the hamaguri that we had yesterday evening at Kyubey. It was also a direct contrast to the previous saba, and reset our tastebuds effectively for the richer sweet items to follow.

From this point onwards, the meal built up quickly towards its ending climax. The first step in this process was a stellar piece of shiro-amadai 白甘鯛 (white tilefish), another first for me. Shiro-amadai is considered a luxury in Japan, an exclusive relative of another high-grade but somewhat more common fish tai (amadai literally means 'sweet bream'), and only fine sushi restaurants can afford to serve this rare and expensive fish. The best season for it is winter, when it is at its plumpest. This piece had a very creamy and soft texture, more so than I would expect for most white fishes, but still not quite as melt-in-the-mouth as that amazing piece of buri we had earlier. Its subtle sweetness made for a lovely continuation of the preceding kobashira gunkan.

With the next uni 雲丹 (sea urchin) gunkan we were back on familiar ground, and it was impossible to dislike this full-bodied, sweet and creamy topping from Hokkaido. The visually appealing bright-orange pieces of uni were far plumper than anything I'd ever seen. Truly to die for!

The final piece of nigiri featured a generous slice of anago 穴子 (conger eel) that had an incredible melt-in-the-mouth softness, and a rich fatty flavour with a delightfully sweet aftertaste, no doubt enhanced by the brushing of nitsume.

We were not quite done yet, though; the most unlikely pièce de résistance came as two chunks of tamago-yaki 玉子焼 (layered Japanese omelette) with a touch of prawn stock. This was truly the stuff of gods, so soft and fluffy it felt like butter sponge instead of egg! The evenly caramelised top layer really made it look like a piece of cake too.

The method for making perfect tamago-yaki of course originates from Jiro (fans of the documentary will remember that there was even an apprentice chef who recounted how he had been made to repeat the process 200 times before the old master finally became satisfied with the outcome); it was obvious that Harutaka-san had also taken his mentor's teachings to heart, as this stunning and unique tamago-yaki illustrated; that alone might have been well worth the visit. The tamago-yaki here was definitely not just an afterthought to a sushi omakase, and I don't think I'll ever have anything like it again, unless I get a reservation at Jiro's, or the restaurants of his best protégés.

After this, Harutaka-san informed us that we were at the end of the omakase with one more hosomaki course to go, and we were given the usual options of negitoro, kanpyou etc. We finally chose to have 鉄火巻 tekkamaki (with a filling of sliced akami) as this is rather unusual as well. The dense maki roll, packed tightly with rice and tuna, filled our tummies just nicely.

Harutaka-san then asked if we were full, and whether we would like to repeat any particular items. My partner couldn't eat any more but I went ahead with two more orders of tamago-yaki and uni gunkan (how could I not!). In hindsight, I probably would have repeated the buri, ikura and shiro-amadai as well, if my stomach would allow it.

The next video clip of Harutaka-san's sous chef grating fresh wasabi will show you what the real thing is like - it is hardly the thick green goo that comes out of a tube or is scooped out of a container in all cheaper places. Needless to say, the taste of real wasabi is infinitely better than the cheap fake versions as well.

Harutaka-san at work with a fillet of saba.

Moving on to kanpyou maki...

And making sure it's all packed in firmly, pressing down while rolling up.

Surprisingly, the final bill came to slightly above 41,000 yen for two (no drinks, just complimentary green tea), which was lower than I had expected considering two extra items, and the tax and service charge that fine restaurants usually take. I'm not sure how that worked, since top restaurants in Japan always present the bill as a total amount, not as an itemised list - maybe the extra items were meant to be on the house (?!), or maybe there was no tax and service charge at all?

The meal had been very well-paced, the ambience was remarkably comfortable for such a small and quiet restaurant, and watching Harutaka-san make his nigiri with a machine-like exactitude and speed had been a mesmerising theatrical treat in itself. As we got up to leave, both Harutaka-san and his sous chef bowed and bade us farewell, then went back to their work, almost without missing a beat. We were seen to the door and thanked once again by a member of the service staff. As we exited the tiny building, I couldn't help thinking what a dream the past two and a half hours had been. There may well be better sushi restaurants in Tokyo, but for now I was completely satisfied.

Details for Harutaka (青空)

Address in kanji: 東京都 中央区 銀座 8-5-8 かわばたビル３F

Tel.: +81-3-3573-1144 (reservations compulsory through a concierge)

Business hours: 17:00 – late (last orders Monday-Friday at 23:30; Saturday at 22:30; closed Sunday and public holidays)
Credit cards: all accepted

Lunch with guest chefs Karl and Rudolf Obauer at Dolce Vita, Singapore

Having been notified a week ago by Jan, the manager of Dolce Vita, that there would be a pair of visiting chef brothers for the weekend, with a cooking style similar to Thomas Bühner's (who had visited back in April), I booked myself in for lunch this afternoon. Karl and Rudolf Obauer run the 2-starred Restaurant-Hotel Obauer in the small town of Werfen near to Salzburg in Austria, and despite having been around for much longer than, and being on the same level on the Michelin Guide as, Steirereck in Vienna (which I've visited twice whilst living in Europe), it is strangely not quite as well-known internationally. A matter of marketing by the St. Pellegrino Top 50 list as well as location, perhaps? I must confess that I had not heard of the Obauer brothers myself prior to their visit, but nevertheless I was intrigued enough after some brief online research to want to drop by and discover their cooking for myself.

The meal started off with bread and butter, and compared to the generic (but still good) Italian offerings of this restaurant during Bühner's visit, these felt immediately more representative of the region from which the Obauers hail; the multi-grain flatbread with pumpkin seeds (one of Austria's most famous ingredients) and the cottage cheese (also popular in Austria, where it is known as 'Topfen') dip infused with local alpine herbs certainly struck a chord with my tastebuds.

To my pleasant surprise, an impressive platter of amuse-bouches was then set before me. There were no such extras during Bühner's visit, so I had not been expecting them. These little gems were all familiar in their own ways and brought back delightful memories of dining out in Austria. I was advised to eat them from right to left.

First up, there were chickpea with botargo and olive oil, and veal tartare with a touch of lemon, olive oil and capers. The chickpea purée was absolutely smooth and rich in texture with a mild taste. It was aptly enhanced by a generous pool of fresh, fruity and slightly bitter olive oil, while a touch of grated botargo contributed slightly deeper flavours. On the other hand. the rich taste of veal (the meat used for making the popular Viennese schnitzels) was very well-balanced by the sharp lemon juice and capers, while olive oil made the raw meat feel even more tender and succulent. These were very enjoyable indeed.

Next was sheep's yoghurt with zucchini and pumpkin seed oil. The freshness of yoghurt blended with zucchini, contrasted by the deep nuttiness of pumpkin seed oil (my favourite Austrian culinary product!) is something that needs to be tried to be believed. This was simply heaven in a shot glass, and it was so satisfying to be able to relive those wonderful moments in Austria of tasting pumpkin seed oil in everything from salads to soups to savoury dishes and even desserts. Small fresh chunks of zucchini on the surface contributed a further juicy crunch.

Finally, Parmesan jelly with sea salt, and homemade lamb sausage all the way from Werfen! The latter had been, according to Jan, brought into Singapore in very small amounts due to some import restriction, so we the customers were truly fortunate to have been able to savour this unique delicacy. It was very well-seasoned, without the strong gamey smell that often plagues this meat, and firm but moist in texture. The tiny cube of Parmesan jelly was surprisingly more spongy/marshmallow-like than gelatinous in texture, and its rich taste was further deepened by a sprinkling of sea salt on top. Though not immediately apparent, these two morsels packed a real punch.

First course: cauliflower jelly with piquillo pepper sauce, smoked beef from Salzburg, eggplant ragout, goose liver and alpine herbs.

The cauliflower jelly was in fact more like an aspic, with real cauliflower encased in savoury gelatin. The two large chunks were very crisp to the palate, with the natural sweetness of cauliflower combined effectively with a delicate pickled taste. The surrounding piquillo pepper sauce contributed more sweetness and really brightened up the dish with its vivid colour. A sprinkling of alpine herbs contributed lovely fresh aromas. The other accompaniments were somewhat more luxurious: goose foie had a remarkably mild taste (compared to its more common duck counterpart) but a very smooth creamy texture, while the eggplant ragout had a sweet and nicely seasoned taste, with a delightfully rich mouthfeel. Thin slices of smoked beef with a firm texture and deep flavour provided this otherwise generally light and clean-tasting dish with further body. With its multitude of textures and flavours, this dish was the perfect starter and stimulus for the tastebuds.

Second course: lake char lasagna with basil, rosemary, trompette de la mort mushrooms and Grüner Veltliner sauce.

This was comfort food at its most luxurious. Underneath a huge and succulent piece of fish, black trumpet mushrooms with their deep earthy taste were plentifully stuffed between the layers of the lasagna, while a huge basil leaf on top and crushed herbs at the bottom provided some really lovely intense aromas. The only unsatisfactory part of this lasagna was its hard and dry pasta base, which can happen as a result of direct contact with the bottom of the baking dish. A rich Grüner Veltliner sauce with olive oil, poured generously over the fish, completed this otherwise stellar course. Grüner Veltliner is of course the white wine of Austria and her renowned Heurigens (countryside taverns), and its fresh and crisp nature, infused into the sauce, was the perfect complement for the delicate flavour of the fish.

Third course: celery-saffron soup with steamed pike.

The clean sweetness of celery combined with the subtle hay-like aroma of saffron to produce a soup that was remarkably light, yet with an interesting and complex flavour that could best be described as deeply savoury with a bitter/sourish edge. There weren't any actual pieces of celery or threads of saffron present, yet their respective flavour and colour had already been fully infused into the soup. A garnish of shiso sprouts (my favourite Japanese herb) further enlivened the soup with their distinctive minty aroma. Halfway through the soup, a small fillet of pike emerged, a truly sumptuous addition to an already outstanding soup; its fresh, delicate taste and absolutely soft and smooth texture were a pure delight.

Fourth course: saddle of lamb with parsley and anchovy paste, sweet potato roasted with orange zest, and a lamb reduction mixed with vinaigrette. Served with a side of sour cream radish with pumpkin seed oil.

The lamb was roasted to tender and succulent perfection with a utterly crisp skin reminiscent of the best Cantonese roasts (that last bit is what most Western roasting methods don't get right, in my opinion). What really impressed me, though, were the accompaniments that kept this rich meat feeling extraordinarily balanced and easy on the gut through every mouthful. The parsley and anchovy paste provided both lovely fresh aromas as well as more intense flavours, while the lamb reduction with vinaigrette was tasty yet well-tempered with an astringent edge. Even the roasted sweet potato didn't feel heavy or starchy in the least, due to the infusion of crisp and tangy orange flavours. The other star of this main course, radish marinated with sour cream and topped with my beloved pumpkin seed oil, was possibly the best and most authentic Austrian side dish one could have asked for. I really didn't want this course to end!

Fifth course (cheese): alpine 'pizza' with sour cream, onions and cubed smoked beef. Served with a side of mixed salad with pumpkin seed oil.

After the superb main course, this felt rather underwhelming. To be sure, the 'pizza' crust was extremely thin and crisp, and its toppings made for a very tasty, balanced and aromatic combination, but I failed to see how this had transcended the standards of any above-average Italian restaurant kitchen. The sprinkling of alpine herbs, presumably to give the pizza a more authentic edge, was also somewhat futile as the sheer pungence of onions had all but drowned out the aromas of these subtle herbs. The same could be said of the pumpkin seed oil supposedly present in the salad - I simply couldn't taste it at all, which was strange considering its strong characteristic flavour. Perhaps there was too little of it, or the spicy and nutty rocket and cress leaves which made up most of the salad had overpowered the taste of the oil. In any case, this course was pleasant and scrumptious enough, but also lacking in a distinctive character.

At this point, the older of the two brothers, Karl, was going round every table to greet customers (something that didn't happen with Bühner during his visit in April, I should mention), and of course I didn't miss the opportunity to find out more about his restaurant, its location as well as possible links to Heinz Reitbauer of Steirereck. As it turns out, both are long-standing family restaurants whose closely-knit relationship goes way back to the late 1980s; Reitbauer actually worked with the Obauer family for two years, and Karl's nephew in turn also trained as a waiter and cook in Steirereck before returning to the family establishment in Werfen. Karl spoke of his compatriot and competitor without the slightest tinge of professional rivalry - a humble and generous character indeed. Also, as an aside, the Obauer brothers had met Bühner in Paris recently on the occasion of the awards ceremony of Le Grand Tables du Monde - the world of gastronomy is smaller than one would think!

Karl also mentioned that their family restaurant is just minutes on foot from Werfen train station, south of Salzburg, nestled within a mountain valley. Werfen also has the biggest natural ice cave in the world (Eisriesenwelt) and a round trip on the designated walking route takes a good 4 hours. The town is also less well-known as one of the filming sites of the popular musical 'The Sound of Music', and I must have passed Werfen at least once whilst on one of those touristy excursions, though I just never took special notice of its name!

I was then invited to meet his brother Rudolf at work in the open kitchen, and we also exchanged a few pleasantries. Rudolf seemed somewhat more reticent compared to his elder brother but one thing was for sure: both men were very warm, friendly and down-to-earth, and I would love to experience their hospitality again at the actual family restaurant someday. (I might be biased though as we were communicating in German, and they were both very pleased and amazed by my unexpected fluency in their native language!)

Back to the food after this nice little diversion -

Sixth course (dessert): apple strudel on white chocolate cream, chamomile ice cream, cottage cheesecake, poached apples with candied orange zest, and blackcurrant coulis.

What could be a more Austrian way to end a meal than having both apple strudel and 'Topfen' on the same plate? The apple strudel here was unusually shaped in the form of an Italian cannoli with powdered sugar instead of a cake-like layered flaky pastry. The mushy semi-puréed apple filling was very rich and juicy, an absolute delight when paired with the crispy pastry wrapping, the buttery goodness of white chocolate cream and the warm sweet taste of vanilla crème anglaise. The generously-portioned cottage cheesecake was, by contrast, remarkably light in texture and had a refreshing soured taste. Topped with apple cubes poached in syrup and tangy orange zest, this was very satisfying in its own way. Finally, the soothing floral aromas and smooth apple-like sweetness of the chamomile ice cream completed this dessert on a fresh and elegant note.

Petit fours followed, and while waiting for these Karl had also placed a couple of cookbooks published by him and his brother on my table for my perusal. I will probably never be able to replicate their dishes at such a high level, but it is always tantalising to see what is possible by virtue of imagination and inspiration. I noted that they take pride in obtaining ingredients from their local farmers - you can never go wrong with that!

Hazelnut mousse infused with coffee (in the cone), Parmesan cracker, lime and Hendrick's gin marshmallow. Loved the aroma of coffee infused into the rich nutty mousse, as well as the freshness and astringency of the marshmallow - perfect for perking up after a sumptuous meal.

Chocolate biscuit with chocolate and mushroom cream, peach and beetroot jelly with a slice of fresh peach. The chocolate and mushroom cream was particularly memorable for its combination of deep earthiness and intense cocoa flavour - a very unusual pairing that was surprisingly effective. The peach and beetroot pairing was somewhat similar - sweet and also with an earthy edge.

Chocolate sponge cake with blackberry, rich and moist. Lovely.

This had been such an enjoyable afternoon of great food and hospitality. Towards the end of the meal I also had a nice long chat with Jan the manager about his life in Singapore so far. He happens to be German so that might explain all these visiting chefs from German-speaking countries so far. Anyway, I do hope to see an Italian chef featured in an Italian restaurant in the near future - Massimo Bottura anyone?

(N.B. The only thing I would like to see improved for now is the table setting - not sure if you readers have noticed it from my photos, but a crumpled tablecloth does look quite messy and is one of my pet peeves in a restaurant.)

But back to the main focus of today - the sense of pride in, and desire to showcase the best of, Austrian cooking was evident throughout the meal, and my only regret was not having discovered this restaurant earlier while I was still in Europe. I'm sure I'll see the Obauer brothers again in Werfen one day!