Le Chateaubriand, Paris: The Cocktease.

Wet, hot, late in the night, an empty street and a full restaurant, ah… bonjour Paris. We arrived in Gare du Nord just after nine at night, taking the Eurostar from St Pancras. It took us a while to find our hotel in Madeleine ( The Le Vignon, a delightful getaway, which I highly commend) but as soon as we dropped our bags, we were back on the Metro again. Our destination was Goncourt, we were out to find the 9th best restaurant in the world. It’s quite impossible to book a table over the phone, so I didn’t bother trying. I opted to turn up with a hope of getting a table for the 2nd sitting after 10pm, and in my opinion, the more appropriate way to eat supper in Paris. We were in luck, a Thursday night, there were only 3 tables ahead of us in the queue, and those from the earlier sitting were just starting to leave. So it appears that getting a table at one of the hottest restaurants in Paris wasn’t so difficult after all. As I stood in line, I got started with two glasses of whatever was available that night – a white and a red Languedoc – while the missus scoped out Le Dauphin next door, surveying its respective queue. We were hedging our bets in deciding which two of Paris&#

Hedone: Nay, he didn’t.

As you, I came upon Hedone filled with expectation. Fay likes it, Guy loved it, Andy – whose standards are as high as Taipei 101 – gave it a rare 8. So it must be fucking magic right? You’ll read alot of kerfaffle online about the birth of Hedone and its progenitor Swedish chef Mikael Jonsson, a trained chef, but who became a lawyer, before rediscovering his gastronome side with this restaurant. Curiously, I feel an aura of respect, which redoubtable comes across through the work of those food writers who visited Hedone. This is a rare occurrence. You’ll find similar glowing reports across egullet and chowhound too, and at time of writing, I believe this is what has contributed to its rocketing profile up the hypemeter. I visited for lunch and had to drag Mark along for I promised him that Hedone could very well change his life. Unexpectedly, he was late, blaming the fact that he took the wrong bus. I was obviously flipping about uncomfortably by myself when the eagle eyed waitress saw this, she brought me the daily papers to keep me distracted. Top marks for service then, granted choice was a little wanting in the Telegraph or the Times, I chose the latter. Proceedings kicked off as expected. A couple of amuse bouches that fit the conceptual, high cooking mould. I think the first was

Galoupet : Provencal Simulacrum

Despite the narrative the web has spun around Galoupet, you should know that this is not a restaurant. Don’t come here expecting to be fed, because you will be a little confused. Even the decor strays far from the norm, like the faintly perfumery, sterile ivory walls and beech floors, mirrors on either side and (if memory serves) a skylight. There was so much light coming from all corners of the room, that we could only be here for a spa treatment. Such words are not usually applied to restaurant copy: ‘light, fresh, clean’ , ‘deep understanding’ , ‘adapted’. Let’s throw sensory in there too. This was as close an experience to having a detox treatment for the tastebuds… not that I’ve ever been to a detox session for any other bodily part. In practical terms, most of the dishes could pass as salads. There’s fruit in nearly every dish, I felt an eerie sense of being cleansed after the meal. Yes, fella, this is not the usual restaurant, let alone wine bar, there is something of an unorthodox approach going on here. The emphasis on the grapes are a refreshing change, there aren’t many wine-led restaurants in town, even though most restaurants will try their bestest to flog matching wines with the food, it often feels second best to the food; and for the case of the wine bar,

The Corner Room : Secret upstairs genius

Consider this as the side project. An epilogue of a visionary concept. A retelling of a story told from another point of view. The breakfast room for hotel guests. Yes, The Corner Room is the child of Nuno Mendes’ Viajante, both nestled within the zen like confines of the uber cool Townhall hotel in uber edgy Bethnal Green on the East end. A spin-off, an overflow room for those who don’t like the idea of advanced reservations at the ultra fantastic temple of modernist gastronomy downstairs. Perhaps the best part of it all, is how low-key The Corner Room has been kept. There is no weblink or phone and therefore takes no reservations and is totally egalitarian, if you can find it. You’ll have to go through the main hotel reception, instead of the reception to Viajante to find the easily find The Corner Room. If you take the latter route (which we did), you’ll be taken through the guts of the hotel, maze your way through the immaculate designs and occasionally peek into the beautifully designed rooms as they are being kept. The Townhall hotel is a marvelous hotel. It’s a work of wonder. It’s understated and because of this, it probably makes cooler than staying at say The Renaissance, whose goth granduer is a little bit of a overwhelming monstrosity. When we did eventually find The Corner Room

Nopi : Smooth Operator.

What it must feel like to be Yotam Ottolenghi. Author of two likeable, innovative cook books; Owner of a string of likeable, innovative takeaway/café/restaurants, and the custodian of a weekly vegetarian column in Guardian. And women just love his food. There is something extremely likeable about the brand Yotam has created for himself. It’s like everything you imagined organic food – healthy, delicious and expensive – to be. There are four Ottolenghis’ dotted around London, and quite a startling 15 years or so it has been for the native Israeli philosophy major. In 1998, he who had come to Cordon Bleu in London to study food before going on to solidify his pastry experience in The Capital, The Kensington Place group (with Rowley Leigh) and then become head pastry man at Baker and Spice (which I believe is somehow tied to the origin of Gail’s). Eventually in 2002, he opened his first Ottolenghi and the rest is history, as they say. It has been a poster-child kind of success story, therefore the recent opening of his latest venture, Nopi (for North of Picaddily (circus)) is expected to be a high profile – amongst the obsessive gluttons – production that should have industry onlookers salivating with undulated respect. On the surface, Nopi looks like the latest and greatest Soho-based, egalitarian and super hip all-day diner, though this could not be further

Iggy’s, Singapore : Pan-Asian Confusion.

Ever since the Great British Pound took its glorious tumble following the economic rodeo of ’08, travelling the world with HM in your pocket doesn’t go as far as it used to no more, all my assets doing an extended shrinking violet number. Ta-da. Picture the shock and horror whilst researching prices at top end restaurants in Singapore; Waku Ghin – Tetsuya’s Singaporean operation – a whopper of a SGD$400 (£200) per pop; FiftyThree, the well-regarded Euro-comfortica for a mere SGD$250 (£125), yikes..! Shinji – the Raffles Hotel pre-eminent shrine of haute sushi starts at SGD$220 (£110) and flattens out at SGD$450 (£225). Gosh, fine dining sure is pricy in Singapore. All rather paradoxical considering this is a country better known for its amazing standard of hawker centres, food courts, char kuey tiaw, chilli crab, pratha, kaya jam, hainanese chicken rice, nasi padang just to name a few commonly accessible, easily affordable, delicious one platers. Perhaps it is to do with the fascination, mystique and romance of the sycophantic fantasy propagated by high-rolling guides – the Michelin, the Miele and the World Top 50, all of which appear to back the idea that the quality of indulgence be measured not only by how well the food is cooked; but also by the expense spared in investing the restaurant’s cabinet of Laguiole knives and the completeness of their Le Creuset collection

Kopapa : Two sides of the same coin.

Rarely do you come across new openings with a breezier philosophy than Kopapa. The website describes a modest and friendly outlook, also evident from the moment I picked up the phone to book a table, to the eventual visit. Pitched as a cafe & restaurant, this is Peter Gordon’s latest project in London; The New Zealander chef, widely respected as the one true genius of fusion cuisine. His double storied Providores & Tapa Room – high end restaurant upstairs, all day diner/cafe downstairs, based in Marylebone High Street – is a stunner. Especially for breakfast. While I’m not the biggest fan of his adaptation of Changa’s Turkish eggs recipe (poached, yoghurt and hot chilli butter over it), the rest of the breakfast menu – in my opinion – is award winning stuff, for its sheer variety and edibility. So now that he has expanded his operations to an even more central location, it was only natural for critics and blogs to follow his development closely. When I saw a copy of the menu, I was only too happy to see that he had brought over the grazing mentality with him to his new all day diner. The menu is filled with reasonably priced sharing plates, platters, hot soup and larger fish & meat dishes, if one should be so obliged. If you’ve never seen a Peter Gordon menu, be prepared

Viajante Revisited : Twinkle, twinkle little star.

It was probably the most intriguing restaurant opening last year. It generated a polarising reception, ranging from those who hailed Nuno Mendes’ travelling fusion food as groundbreaking to others who thought it a purely self indulgent public experiment, injected with an unhealthy dose of pretense. When I visited last summer,

Roka : Japanese, expensive but oh so very good.

Tez Amore Cafe, Brunei : 48 hours behind the stove with Terrance Loh.

Dock Kitchen: Popped-up comfort food.

Buddha Bar: One Night Only [Invite to Boogie]

Tom Ilic, far far away.. [invite to review]

Le Cafe Anglais… at Gourmet Chick [Review]

Sunday morning at the providores and tapa room (review)