Is the Food at Restaurant A Art?

Restaurant A is the latest venture by chef Alain Huang, formerly the Chef de Cuisine of the two-Michelin-star restaurant RAW in Taipei. After leaving RAW Huang took more than two years to prepare and open his fine dining restaurant. He and his investors are clearly looking to garner multiple Michelin stars. Since the restaurant opened in September of 2023, I have been there twice for dinner, once in winter and another in spring. Restaurant A is an ambitious endeavor and asks questions that deserve careful considerations. 

Is food art? This is the main question Restaurant A poses to the diners. This question is often considered at fine dining restaurants as the line between food and art is sometimes blurred. For instance, chef Ferran Adria of El Bulli restaurant was invited to participate in the art fair, Documenta 12, in Kassel in 2007. By posing the question, Restaurant A certainly thinks food is art and wants the diners to view its food as art. This desire drives the bulk of the dining experience. While the approach is understandable and perhaps even admirable, it is also misguided. Food is not art because it has a functional purpose to nourish people. Food can certainly can be art-like, however, forcing the ideas of art onto the diners actually diminishes the power of the food and the enjoyment of the experience.

Restaurant A occupies the entire 4th floor of a small retail building in downtown Taipei. The elevator opens into a mostly white, sterile, and brightly lit space with a receptionist at one end. Upon entering, one of my dining companions quips, it’s like going to a dentist’s office; harsh but kind of true. The reception is designed to resemble a gallery. The hostess is eager to point out the artworks on the walls and that they are provided by a gallery the restaurant collaborates with. The artworks change with the seasons and they serve as inspirations for the food. While this may sound artsy and sophisticated, a gallery is not a good model for a restaurant. The space of a gallery is about selling art, in contrast, a restaurant is about providing hospitality. The word restaurant is derived from the French word, restaurer, meaning to restore to a former state; restaurant is about nourishing people. Another problem with using the gallery as a model for the restaurant is lighting. In the galleries the lighting is often bright because the purpose is to show the art. But a restaurant is less about spotlighting the food and more about creating an ambiance. Using the art gallery as the model for the restaurant is simply wrongheaded.

Before going into the dining room, I stop by the men’s room on the right side of the reception. The signage design is too artistic as it is hard to tell which door is the men’s room; the design forgets its primary purpose: communication. What's worse is if a woman accidentally opens the wrong door, she will have a direct view of two urinals; there's very little privacy. The custom designed sink isn’t too attractive either. I also fail to understand why in this post-pandemic world a restaurant doesn’t install a contactless faucet. The towels provided on the right side of the sink are too small to properly dry one’s hands. For a restaurant that seems generous with the use of space and cares greatly about appearance, the men's room is poorly planned. 

The sliding doors on the left side of the reception open to a lounge called Alcoholiday; the name doesn’t mean much. The ceiling, walls, and floor of the space are all in white. But the design is too complicated for its own good. The majority of the vertical planes consists of horizontal shallow shelves in a running bond tile-like pattern. This device is both a decorative element in front of solid walls and a screen that separates different spaces. The shelves are constructed of small modular pieces and connected with highly visible round head screws. I can only assume the designer really wants to reveal the construction of the shelves. I wish the design and the construction are more minimal and elegant to project a sense of effortlessness. The pitched ceiling consists of shingled long white planks with continuous cover lights. The ceiling reminds me a bit of the ceiling at the airline baggage check-in area in Taipei Main Station. I don't know what's the intention behind the design, but it's too busy. A hanging blue ribbon-like sculpture makes the room even more busy. 

The lounge is where the idea of an art gallery as a restaurant simply doesn’t work. The functional requirements of the lounge such as the counter for preparing drinks diminishes the prominence and power of the art, especially the paintings on the walls; they simply become decorative objects. At the same time the brightness of the lighting and the white walls and panels do not produce an intimate setting to enjoy a drink or to relax at the end of a long dinner. 

A narrow corridor with a white noren leads to the dining room. The use of the Japanese fabric divider is a bit random and unnecessary; another sign of too much stuff. The noren doesn’t block anything, since the corridor is not straight and there is no direct view to the dining room. The noren also doesn’t offer any symbolic function either as the food and the culture of service is not Japanese at all. As I walk along the corridor the hostess points to a built-in glass display case in the wall. Inside there's a custom made dinnerware that we will be eating off of later. The intention is clear, not only is the food art, the serving ware is also art to be fetishized. 

The design of the dining room is calmer and nicer than the previous two spaces. Instead of white terrazzo floors in the reception and lounge, the floor is light color wood planks. The combination of wood color and white is quite pleasant. The chairs are fairly comfortable and the tables are well spaced. The tabletop has a off-white leather-like finish which is also quite nice. The room is decorated with flower arrangements on the serving stations and on each table. One strange aspect of the room is none of the tables are placed close to the exterior windows. 

While the design of the dining room is better, it still suffers from a lack of restraint. The walls are not left alone but decorated with LED strips at different heights. There is also a strip of light at the base of the wall. The color of the light is too white and the effect is distracting. These light fixtures are really not necessary. 

At the back of the dining room is a large window with a clear view of the kitchen that is also mostly white. The full height glass sliding door into the kitchen isn’t very attractive. One gets a view of the tile floor of the kitchen, which is too jarring from the dining room. The dark floor mat that prevents slippage in front of the door is also visually distracting. The kitchen is brightly lit and looks very clean, yet not very attractive. I love open kitchen, but it needs to be designed and staged better. The irony is the kitchen is the one place in the restaurant that needs some decoration yet doesn’t have any. 

Unlike the reception and the lounge the dining room doesn’t have any artwork on the walls or the ceiling, except for one near the entry that’s not visible from most of the tables. Clearly the idea is the food is the art to be admired. 

After we sit down the server tells us that the no-choice set menu consists of 16 courses.This sounds grandiose but actually 9 of the so-called courses are really just snacks at the start and mignardises at the end. 

The meal begins with five snacks that are designated salty, sweet/acidic, spicy, bitter, and umami and served sequentially. I have been to Restaurant A twice for dinner and both times the meal starts the same way with an idea from art, trompe-l'oeil. An edible bouchon placed in the middle of a bowl of real bouchons. Maybe this is inspired by the potato stones at Mugaritz. Nevertheless, this is a fun idea. The diner picks up the edible cork and eats it in one bite. The problem is the chef can’t leave well enough alone. Besides the bowl of corks, the server brings out a custom made serving ware and says we can take the cork out of the bowl, place it on the plate, take a picture and then eat it. I oblige, but the plate is completely unnecessary–either serve the cork on the plate or in the bowl. You do not need both. The chef has too many ideas and can’t let some of them go. More isn’t better, in fact, they take away from the power of the dish. The tendency of having too much stuff is a recurring problem through out the meal. What the chef needs is an editor, someone to take things away rather than keep adding. 

Putting aside the problem with the presentation, the faux bouchon is a well made snack with a crispy shell and oozing cheese. Both times the cheese in the bouchon is Comté, which has a low salt content relative to other cheeses. Therefore instead of salty, the taste is a bit sweet. At my first dinner the Comté is paired with chestnut and nutmeg and the second time is with pine nuts and broccolini. 

The second snack is called Sweetness and is a fish roe tart. The tart shell is well made and the flavors are good. The third snack is a small bite of a chicken; nice but not too memorable. The fourth snack at both of my dinners is a little salad, or a display of tweezer food with small pieces layered elegantly. Of all the five snacks, this is the one I like the best and I wish it is a larger salad rather than small bite. 

The last snack is called the umami bomb, a small “doughnut” with a mushroom “cappuccino” on the side. Umami yes, but bomb I’m not so sure. The server says this is the signature dish of chef Huang, something he would never take off the menu. The dish is inspired by one of his mentors Justin Quek. I suppose this is a play on coffee and doughnut but it is not as interesting as Thomas Keller’s version. The use of the truffle makes sense at my first dinner in January. But why insist on using truffle at my second dinner in May when the ingredient is not in season? 

The five snacks to start the meal are all expertly prepared, in fact they are a show of the technical prowess of the kitchen staff. At my first dinner, the flavors are not as distinctive as I would have liked as they are more on the sweet side. This flavor profile is made more pronounced with the juice pairing. I don’t like to start the meal with sweet flavors as they dull instead of wake up the palate. At my second dinner the flavors are engineered better, but I am not convinced I need five snacks. I would prefer less snacks and more courses. 

The first course is a cold dish: a seafood salad. At my first dinner it is an escabeche with sea urchin and duck ham. At my second dinner I am served a “borscht” with Botan shrimp and cranberry. Both times, the seafood salad is nice. I am just unsure about the sequence. Before eating this dish, I already had a salad for a snack. Then I had a warm wintery snack. Now I am back to a cold dish again. And after this first course, the next course is another salad. 

When the server brings the second course to the table, I am already a bit tired of being served another salad. At my first dinner, the salad is a black and white colored dish. The server says the dish is inspired by the black and white painting hanging in the lounge. In case we don't remember the painting, our server brings out an iPad with a picture to show us. This is frankly just annoying and unnecessarily didactic. The connection between the painting and the dish is at best superficial. Just because the painting and salad both use the same colors doesn’t mean much, certainly doesn’t turn the food into art. Forcing the customers to make these visual connections actually diminishes the power of the food because it limits the diners’ imagination. What the chef should strive for is to spark the diners’ curiosity and to inspire them to seek their own connections. 

After the cold salad, the next course is a hot soup. Maybe the chef is purposely oscillating between hot and cold dishes, but I don’t really understand the purpose. Both times the soup is sort of a half hearted one as the liquid portion is small and there is so much foam at the top. Nevertheless, the soup is nicely made with very good flavors. 

The fourth course is a seafood. At my first dinner I am served a consommé with scallop and daikon. The server points out that the scallop is threaded with black truffle. This is a recurring theme of the restaurant. The server is constantly trying to point out the effort that goes into all the dishes in case the diners don’t appreciate or admire the work properly. I enjoy the dish as the consommé is well-made. I would have preferred the scallop to be thinly sliced rather than diced. 

At my second dinner the dish is a mackerel with white asparagus. When the dish is served one cannot see the fish as there is so much stuff layered on top of the protein. The white asparagus on the side is also only partially visible. The mackerel and the white asparagus are both very well prepared and tasty. But the combination of these two main ingredients is not too interesting. The dish certainly doesn’t need all the little flowers, herbs, and condiments. I wish chef Huang would take a page from the three-Michelin-star chef Eric Ripert’s playbook - let the fish be the star of the plate instead of making the dish more complicated than it needs to be. 

Bread (focaccia) finally makes an appearance as the main course is served at my first dinner. I really would have preferred the bread to be served earlier. Moreover, the focaccia is just so-so. Strangely at my second dinner, the server doesn’t bring out the bread before the main course. The server says because the chef already served a rice dish before, they will not serve the bread. However, if my guest and I don't feel full in the stomach, she can can bring out some bread at an extra charge of NT$260 per person. I have never encountered this kind of situation at the restaurant before. I am already paying over NT$7,000 per person, does the restaurant really need to nickel and dime me over some focaccia? Moreover, bread is not made a la minute. The restaurant probably has baked enough for the diners prior to dinner service. Not serving the bread simply means the staff will eat it instead of the customers.

Restaurant A lacks a sense of generosity or even the impression of generosity. I feel the restaurant is constantly looking to shake more money out of me. The bread is just one of the instances. Halfway through one of my dinners, the server places a bottle of wine on our table and says this goes very well with the next dish. One would think this is part of the wine pairing that's already paid for, or perhaps the server just wants us to try. Instead this wine comes with a supplemental charge. A restaurant should be about hospitality, yet it is just the opposite. At least the restaurant doesn't charge for putting a candle on the dessert for my wife's birthday celebration. Being in a restaurant where every offer from the server is a transaction just isn't an enjoyable experience. 

The fifth course is the main course. At my first dinner the dish’s is a small piece of lamb with around six sauces and condiments on the plate. It is as if the kitchen is trying to tell the diner, see how much we can do. The main sauce is a tuna sauce, akin to the one in the Italian classic dish Vitello Tonnato. I am not convinced this is the best sauce for the lamb. Another sauce is a red pepper sauce, which works a little better. Overall, the lamb really doesn’t need that much sauce. The server also tells us that after we finish eating the lamb we can take a picture of our plates with the leftover sauces and condiment and post it on the social media as our art for the night. This partly explains why there’s excessive stuff on the plate. The chef doesn’t want the diner to clean the plate, but play with the food to make art. But I am at the restaurant to eat. if I want to make art, I would have gone to an art class with my kids. 

The sixth course is a pre-dessert, which is a combination of hard liquor (vodka or whisky) with fruit (soursop or apple). Both times the combinations and flavors are nice. I cannot say the same for the last course of the dinner: main dessert. At both of my dinners, the dessert is a bit disappointing. Dessert is an opportunity to deliver the final wow factor and leave the dinner on a high note. However, the ones at Restaurant A are just decorative objects that are not very interesting. 

The dessert at my first dinner is an ice cream with chocolate sauce topped with ginger tuile. This was a disappointing end as it was simply not very impressive. It is a bit strange that there isn’t any juice pairing with the dessert, considering this is the time where a sweet drink actually makes more sense.

The dessert at my recent dinner is more emblematic of the problem at Restaurant A. The dish is the classic French dessert, Île Flottante, a classic French dessert with meringue and crème anglaise. Similar to the other courses, the dish is expertly prepared. The texture of the meringue is good and sauce has a nice flavor. The dish is decorated with all sorts of dots and leaves done precisely with a tweezer and squeeze bottles. The dish looks complicated but is actually not very interesting and doesn’t really innovate on the classic. One can compare this Île Flottante with the one by Jean Francois Piège’s at Clover Bellavita in Taipei. Piège’s version doesn’t have any fussy decorations nor is it thematic. The dessert looks deceivingly simple yet is very innovative by turning classic recipe inside out. Rather than an innovator, the pasty chef at Restaurant A is more of a decorator. 

Like many other disciplines, food has components of art: color, composition, materiality…etc. The creation of food certainly can borrow ideas from art. However, taking visual cues from art or making the food pretty doesn’t make the food art-like or art. Chef Huang’s creations try to emulate the visual appearances of art, but this operating on a superficial level. Also, by doing so art simply becomes a theme to be grafted onto the food. Instead of trying to make food that looks like art through decorative means, Huang should emulate the process and ideas of artists, how they innovate art by redefining what is art. They ask the question what is painting or what is sculpture? If Huang follows the method of the great artists, the questions he poses should not be whether food is art but rather what is food? What is fine dining? How can one make a new Île Flottante? 

After the dessert, the server asks us to move to the lounge to have the mignardises and coffee. I am a little reluctant to move and as I like the dining room much better than the lounge. I don’t see a reason for doing so. Usually restaurants move the diners out to the lounge because they need the table back for the next seating. There’s no such problem at Restaurant A. 

As I settle into the sofa in the lounge, the server brings out four mignardises and coffee. The mignardises are all made very well. One of the mignardises is cannelé flavored with cardamon. I know the chef is trying to be different and creative, but I still prefer a simple cannelé. The pour over coffee has a very clean taste but I don’t like the small cups they are served in. The coffee is also not hot enough for my taste. I rather have an espresso instead. 

Dinner at Restaurant A is not cheap, NT$6,850 plus 10% service charge. The price includes a compulsory beverage pairing; this is one way to make people spend more money. There is a choice of five alcoholic or non-alcoholic drinks. For a bit more money, the alcoholic drinks can be upgraded to better wines. Given that the drinks are included and without any say from the diners, it is a bit strange for the server to present the full wine list at the beginning of the meal. I suppose we can order more bottles besides the 5 glasses, but the server doesn’t make this clear. Maybe the server just wants us to admire the wine list. Unfortunately the choices of wines in the alcoholic pairing are not that interesting. At my first dinner the first drink is not even a wine but a beer. The pour of each pairing is also small and stingy, just around 70ml. Based on the restaurant’s numbers, there are 16 courses but only 5 glasses. As the dinner progresses it is not clear which glass of wine is suppose to be good for more than one course. Furthermore, dessert doesn’t get any pairing, which is a missed opportunity. 

I have also tried the non-alcoholic pairing and it is more disappointing than the wines. Instead of serving juices made by reputable vineyards, the drinks are all house-made. Spending the time making these juices doesn’t seem to be worth the effort. The problem with the juices is they are all a bit on the sweet side and don’t do much for the food. 

At the end of the dinner, the hostess hands out a folder with the menu as the diners exit the restaurant. This reminds me of my meals at Thomas Keller’s Per Se. However, unlike Per Se, where the menu is on one page, Restaurant A’s folder has three sheets: two on the food and one on the drinks. For the different courses, there are around 45 different ingredients listed on the menu and none are repeated. The abundance is certainly quite impressive and again, the restaurant needs to make sure the diners know it. There is no real need to have the menu on multiple pages when one page will do. This is a bit like a job applicant with a multi-page resume. Restaurant A is technically very sound in the kitchen. And for the most part the service is also quite pleasant. But Restaurant A is not very interesting. For instance, the content and the sequence of the dishes don’t seem to have an overarching concept: one dish is about Chef Huang’s mentor, another dish is about his travel, and a few art inspired ones are thrown into the mix. The portions are small but overly complicated. At times, I feel the restaurant is making dishes for themselves to admire rather than for the diners to enjoy. 

Restaurant A would benefit from being more subtle. This is all the more ironic as one page of the menu has the word “Subtle” written largely at the top. Sometimes the problem with young chefs and designers is they have a tendency to show all the things they can do at once and a desire to make sure people see them. I wish Restaurant A will be more elegant and project a sense of effortlessness. I also wish the chef will trust his customers a bit more. Dinner doesn’t need to be didactic. Maybe many diners don’t understand everything that’s put into the dishes or don’t appreciate the effort, but that’s fine. This is no different than when we are confronted with a work of art that we don’t fully understand. We don’t need the artist to be there explaining every little detail or intentions to us. In fact it is better for the diners to enjoy the dishes on their own terms. If they are intrigued by the work, they will find out more about it. Give the diners some room for imagination and inquiry. 

The “A” in Restaurant A’s name doesn’t quite stand for art. Nor is it quite awesome yet though it has the potential to be. The quality of the ingredients and the cooking at Restaurant A are very nice. My dinners at Restaurant A have some nice moments. I want to like the restaurant but I can’t fully embrace it yet. I admire the aspirations but as of now, for me the “A” stands for ambivalent.

Clover Bellavita by Jean-Francois Piège

Jean-Francois Piège is a famous chef not only in his home country of France, but amongst the foodies in Taiwan. Piège was the mentor of the celebrity Taiwanese chef, Lanshu Chen, at the Hôtel de Crillon in Paris. He came to Taiwan twice in 2013 and 2018 as a guest chef at Chen’s restaurant, Le Moût, in Taichung. Piège has also been promoted by a Taiwanese journalist based in Paris. When rumors of Piège's arrival in Taipei started before the COVID pandemic, it was certainly exciting. And the fact that a space one-floor below L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon at Bellavita sat empty only added to the intrigue. However, the pandemic had seemed to stop everything.

To my surprise, seemingly out of nowhere in mid-November, 2022, Piège arrived in Taipei to open the doors of his first restaurant outside of France, Clover Bellavita. This is Piège's fourth restaurant under the Clover brand. The name is an English word but is pronounced in the French way. Each Clover restaurant in France is based on a different concept. They are not fine dining but a bistro, a grill, and a vegetarian restaurant, places to diversify Piège's portfolio. But what is Clover in Taiwan? While Piège hasn't officially declared his aspiration for Clover in Taipei, as he did when he opened his flagship fine dining restaurant in Paris in 2015, it is safe to say he and his investors are looking for a Michelin star.

Over the course of many months, I have been to Clover Bellavita four times for both lunch and dinner. Based on the food on the plate, the restaurant should easily get one Michelin star. I've tried many dishes on the winter and spring menus, and all of them are wonderful. In fact, the restaurant is only getting better with time. However, my sentiment runs contrary to some other diners.

When Clover Bellavita first opened, it was panned by many diners with unfavorable comments and one-star reviews on Google Maps. While the worthiness of the comments on Google Maps is debatable, some of the negative sentiments have been corroborated by a few of my discerning friends.

But if one examines the disappointing reviews, many were made based on meals in the first few weeks of the restaurant's opening. While paying customers certainly have the right to express their unhappiness, the early days of a restaurant is not the best time to render a judgement. All restaurants simply need time to work out the kinks in the operation with real customers. This is similar to professional sports as practice is never the same as the actual game. Furthermore in this current time, restaurants are most likely to be understaffed in the beginning. The odds of a great experience at a newly opened restaurant are usually not good.

Another problem with Clover Bellavita was due to expectation created by the marketing, which often touted Piège as a three-Michelin-star chef. Some people came to expect three-Michelin-star food and service, which the restaurant clearly was not intended to provide. Moreover, Piège is not a three-star chef.

Piège might be the most acclaimed chef in France who doesn't yet have three stars. He has received many accolades, including two Michelin stars for his current fine dining restaurant in Paris, Le Grand Restaurant. Prior to striking out on his own, he worked for Alain Ducasse as the Chef de Cuisine at Plaza Athénée and garnered three Michelin stars. Two of his subsequent fine dining restaurants, at Hôtel de Crillon and at Hôtel Thoumieux, both received two Michelin stars. In 2011, his colleagues named him the Chef of the Year after a secret vote organized by Le Chef magazine. From 2010 to 2019, he was a member of the jury in the French version of Top Chef. He has published numerous cookbooks. Not only is he a media savvy chef, he is one of the most accomplished chefs of his generation.

It is a mystery why the third Michelin star eludes Piège. There was the rumor of his feud with Alain Ducasse, but that seems to be ancient history. Ducasse has published a book by Piège under his imprint in 2011. One possible explanation is that prior to opening his Le Grand Restaurant, he has never stayed in a place for more than 5 years. Michelin is probably loathe to give a chef three stars and see the chef leave for another restaurant shortly after. In comparison, this year's three-Michelin-star winner, Alexandre Couillon, has been at his restaurant for 24 years; it took Couillon ten years to be elevated from two-star to three-star. Besides changing locales, Piège is also constantly changing his cuisine. He has adopted the motto: pour que rien ne change, il faut que tout change (for nothing to change, everything must change). Michelin probably prefers more stability and consistency. 

Since Clover Bellavita is not in Paris, Piège cannot be as hands on with the restaurant. To execute his vision and uphold his standard, he has asked Gildas Périn to be the Chef de Cuisine. Périn is young but highly experienced. He has worked for Piège in Paris before, and prior to opening Clover Bellavita worked in two restaurants in Taipei: STAY by Yannick Alléno and Orchid; he understands the tendencies of the local diners. Perin is also a very skillful chef. As his team gains more experience, I am confident the food will only get better.

Unlike Piège’s restaurants in France, Clover Bellavita is not located on the street with a storefront. Rather the restaurant is on the 4th floor of Bellavita, the fanciest shopping mall in downtown Taipei. The interior of the restaurant befits the image and characteristics of the mall: fancy and spacious. The reception is a generously sized sunlit space with a beautiful red wall. Strangely, the red color doesn't relate to anything else in the restaurant. The tent-like ceiling of the reception is interesting, but doesn’t seem to go with the rest of the space either. The reception leads to a curved bar with white countertop and orange bar chairs. In the center of the shelves behind the bar sits a big espresso machine. The shelves behind the bar are mostly filled with wine bottles and glasses. This bar isn’t really set up for cocktail making and doesn’t seem to get much use from the guests.

The bar forms one side of the main dining room. Two other sides of the room has large windows that allow ample natural light to come in, which is nice especially at lunch time. The space is structured spatially by two stone-clad circular columns, an off-centered circular step-down ceiling, and circular patterned flooring. The center of the space is a small table with a large floral piece that changes regularly; a very pleasant visual element that is probably costly to upkeep. Surrounding the center piece are tables with arm chairs and sofas that are nicely spaced apart. The chairs are comfortable but the sofa is a bit low in relation to the height of the table. The biggest eyesores are the electrical sockets for the floor lamps on the four corners. They are not flushed with floor nor under the sofa, thus are potential tripping hazards. There are a few floor-standing rattan screens in the space but they don't seem to relate to the furniture. While there doesn't seem to be a coherent idea about materials and colors, overall the space is still quite pleasant.

Piège certainly cares about aesthetics of the table setting. The black tabletops in the main dining room are shiny and reflective. In lieu of tablecloth, there are several types of round placemats by Chilewich in two different colors. The water glasses for the diners at the tables also come in different subtle colors. Every table has a small vase with flowers. I am also happy to see every table has a pair of salt and pepper mills. Some of the dinnerware is from the Ecume collection by Bernardaud and others are custom made; they are all very elegant. The silverware are also pretty and comfortable to use. The only thing I don’t like is the size of the napkin, which is too small for a fancy restaurant.

The restaurant has three private dining rooms. The large one can seat around 16 diners and has a view of the pastry station of the kitchen. The two smaller rooms, both with windows, can each seat around 8 people and each has its own private bathroom. However, the bathrooms are raised instead of being flushed with the floor; they are not wheelchair accessible. This is similar to the bathroom for the main dining room. The owner of the restaurant probably couldn't access the floor beneath so the drain pipes have to run above the slab. This is most unfortunate as one has be quite careful exiting the restrooms, especially after a few drinks. Since the ceiling in the restaurant is high, one wonders if the designer should have simply elevated the whole restaurant or large parts of the dining room. 

Clover Bellavita can seat up to 100 diners including the private rooms. In comparison, Piège’s fine dining flagship restaurant in Paris only serves 25 diners. Clover Bellavita is probably larger than necessary and it is not a haute cuisine restaurant. But it is certainly too fancy to be just a bistro. While Clover Bellavita has some dishes that are more bistro-like, they are all elevated in terms of presentation, number of components, and technique. For instance, the foie gras mousse is in the shape of a beautiful mandarin orange. The taste was wonderful, especially with a touch of acidity from the marmalade. The Pâté en croûte is well made with great ingredients and the presentation is elevated with the beautiful bouquet of vegetables on the side. The Steak au poivre is served with a tuile on top of the steak, and comes with a steak tartare on fried tendon topped with black pepper ice cream on the side.

The menu has a few large format dishes which I really appreciate. They bring the pleasure of sharing with friends at the table. These are especially nice to have when the weather is a bit colder because the food stays hot longer. One of the dishes is Poule au Pot, which is hearty and delicious. The diners are first served a foie gras caillette in broth, followed by a large pot of chicken and vegetables in broth. The chicken thighs and legs are very good. The breast meat is a bit tougher but that is to be expected. The vegetables are vibrant and cooked perfectly. The broth is simply wonderful. It is interesting to note that rice is not served on the side as Piège does in Paris. Instead a small portion of mashed potato with hazelnut is served on the side. The mashed potato is well made but it is problematic in relation to the chicken. Eating the whole chicken takes time. While the hot broth keeps the chicken parts warm, the mashed potato gets cold relatively quickly. Ideally the servers would bring out fresh servings of the mashed potato as one progresses with eating the chicken. My friends and I have also tried the Chou Farci (for four persons), a more refined version of a traditional French dish, and it is simply wonderful. Some fresh black truffle shaved table side only upped the luxuriousness. Having the large format dishes at Clover Bellavita is highly enjoyable. I wish more restaurants in Taipei would offer similar dishes. Why eat little dainty food of a tasting menu when you can have these glorious large dishes?

Besides the variations and modernizations of French classics, Clover Bellavita has some dishes that show Piège's imagination and creativity. The mark of a good chef is the ability to create his or her own combinations of ingredients and flavors and generating emotions from the diners. One of my favorites is the squid carbonara, a play on the Italian Pasta Carbonara. Instead of pasta, Piège uses thin slices of squid. This dish only has a few ingredients, but the combination, technique, and playfulness created something really magical. Another dish I enjoyed is a sticky corn soup with smoked eel and foie gras. Again, a dish with interesting combinations of ingredients with great flavors. There is also the langoustine with consommé. The langoustine is cooked table side on a heated Parisian granite paver. The use of stone brings a certain flair but it is more than just a gimmick. The stone’s porosity absorbs the fat used for the cooking. While the stone stays hot, it also cooks the langoustine slowly. For Piège, the technique is a modern variation of doing a stew.

There are five desserts on the menu at Clover Bellavita and the selections change periodically. I am particular fond of the Blanc à Manger, a truly wonderful creation that only has four ingredients: milk, egg, sugar, and vanilla. The dessert is a variation on Île Flottante. But instead of the meringue floating on the custard, Piège places the custard on the inside of a cylindrical meringue. The dessert looks so simple yet it is very technical. This is a signature dessert of Piège and is also served at his haute cuisine restaurant in Paris. The dessert connects Piège to his grandmother, who made an Île Flottante that formed Piege’s first memory of food. Île Flottante is a classic French dessert that everyone in France would know. To see Piège transforms the classic dessert into a very refined and new version is very exciting. The same can be said for another dessert on the menu, Raw Apple Tarte Tatin, which is a very interesting variation on the French classic Tarte Tatin. Recently, Clover Bellavita has been serving another classic, Crêpes Suzette with Grand Marnier and confit orange. I love the modern takes on these classics. The combination of ingredients are familiar but allows the diners to experience them anew. And they are delicious. Many classic French desserts are not to be found in restaurants in Taipei. So it is so wonderful to see references to them at Clover Bellavita. While Piège’s versions can certainly be enjoyed without the knowledge of the classics, the diners would probably appreciate the desserts a lot more if they do.

Some of the desserts, such as the Blanc à Manger, are very simply plated and not large in portion. They seem to be more suited as an ensemble and for the tasting menu format. For the diners who order à la carte and enjoy eating desserts, one dessert doesn’t seem quite enough. I almost wish I could order a set of desserts like at Pierre Gagnaire. After the dessert, a trio of mignardises are served, which are a nice way to end the meal.

The food at Clover Bellavita is consistently good. The main problem with Clover Bellavita is the service. On every one of my visits, there were problems with service. At a lunch with my family in the middle of January, no one took away the alcohol wipes after we used them; no one asked if we wanted more bread; no one, besides the Chef Périn, asked how was the lunch; no one asked if the sunlight was too bright and if the shades should be closed more; no one asked if we were still eating the soup with the chicken before taking the bowl away; no one asked if we wanted coffee or tea after the dessert; no one took away the salt and pepper mills before the desserts were served; no one asked if the alcohol in the chocolate petit four was okay for the kid; and no one paid attention to how our lunch was progressing. With the myriad of problems, the biggest one was the mignardises were brought to the table before I ordered the dessert. And instead of bringing three menus for the three of us to select the desserts, we shared one. The service at the end of the meal was just unprofessional. All this happened when the restaurant was not busy. I cannot imagine what happens when the restaurant is even half full.

The front of house team at Clover Bellavita is not well trained. Their movements in the dining room don't come naturally. They are stiff and not relaxed. When the servers seem tense, the diners don't feel as comfortable. While I can understand why the servers are all masked up, it doesn't help with engaging with the diners. You don't feel anyone is smiling behind the masks. The service team is also afraid to make mistakes which makes them more prone to making mistakes. At one of my dinners, the sommelier dropped a bottle of wine on the floor; luckily the bottle stayed intact and no one was hurt, but the wine was gone. The servers and managers lack experience and some of them are simply too young. As such, they don't have the abilities to read the diners and the situation. For instance, at one of my dinners, the server should have considered providing the bread before serving the cheese course; instead the diners had to ask for it. Good service is not just about bringing the food to the right person. Robots can do that and some restaurants are already using them. Service is about anticipating the diners’ needs and caring for them. At Clover Bellavita, I didn’t feel I was under the care of anyone. 

A diner expects good service at Clover Bellavita because the prices are not cheap. A three-course lunch costs NT$2,580 plus 10% service charge or around US$92. A full tasting menu is NT$5,980 plus 10% service charge or around US$215. Wines are prominently displayed in glass cabinets around the perimeter of the restaurant. The wine markup is not unreasonable, but it is certainly not a bargain. One of the wonderful things about Clover Bellavita is the diner can order à la carte. Very few western restaurants at this high level in Taipei offer the option of à la carte because it is more demanding on the kitchen and less economical. Appetizers are around NT$900 and main courses are around NT$1,300. The prices at Clover Bellavita is comparable to Piège‘s restaurants in Paris, besides Le Grand Restaurant. For instance, the Poule au Pot in Paris is 48 Euros per person, roughly NT$1,600, while in Taipei the dish is NT$1,639 per person. While the Poule au Pot in Paris is served in a bistro, the prices at Clover Bellavita make the restaurant more of a destination dining in Taipei. 

Clover Bellavita is a wonderful addition to the restaurant scene in Taipei. It is very nice to finally have another great French restaurant in Taipei besides L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon. In comparison to Robuchon, Clover Bellavita is actually more French. Robuchon has long adopted Asian ingredients and been influenced by Asian cuisine, especially Japanese. In contrast, Piège has said in the past that he is French, makes French food, and doesn’t use ingredients that don’t have a French identity such as Yuzu. Piège is more focused on modernizing French cuisine from within. 

I love having Piège‘s France in Taipei. We don’t really have anything remotely similar here. However, for a restaurant with an English name in an Asian city, one wonders how that will influence or change Piège‘s cooking in the future. What does it mean to use Taiwanese products to cook French food? Or for local servers to provide French service? The context for Piège‘s food in Taipei is completely different than in Paris. The typical diners in Taipei didn’t grow up with French food culture and are not as familiar with the classic dishes and the stories behind them. They won’t be able to connect with the food on an emotional level as Piège would have liked; there certainly won’t be any moment like the end of the movie Ratatouille. Nevertheless, Piège‘s food can certainly be enjoyed for their superb techniques, great flavors, and elegant presentations. Clover Bellavita is a great place to eat and It will be interesting to see how the restaurant develops as time goes on.

Tasting Menu Only-Take it or Leave it

“We only offer a tasting menu now”. The server at my neighborhood bistro informed me of the change when I tried to make a reservation for a family dinner. Half a year ago, restaurant Naked used to be a place where my family of three generations would gather for Sunday dinner. We would eat there around once every two months. Usually the six of us would order a few appetizers to share and then have different main courses individually, such as seafood pasta, lamb chops and beef Rossini. Occasionally we would end the meal with a couple of desserts. The food at the restaurant was simple, at times creative, and well made. The prices were not cheap but reasonable. Now, the restaurant only offers a five-course lunch tasting menu for NT$1,280 and a nine-course tasting menu for $1,980. The pricing is still sensible. But since the inception of the tasting menu-only format, I have not been back to the restaurant. 

The French restaurant Chou Chou in my neighborhood was billed as a modern brasserie when it opened in 2016. Operated by the Michelin-star chef Lam Ming Kin, the restaurant offered prix-fixe menus for lunch (three-course) and dinner (four-course). The food was excellent and moderately priced. Occasionally I would take my wife and two daughters to Chou Chou for a nice lunch on the weekend. My girls would always start with a French onion soup, follow by a steak, and end with a soufflé. My wife and I were more adventurous and chose a variety of different dishes for our visits. In late 2021 the restaurant closed temporarily to retool the concept. Two months later, Chou Chou reopened as a tasting menu-only restaurant. Currently, lunch is a six-course tasting menu priced at NT$2,880 and dinner is nine-course at NT$3,880. I have been back once to try the new format with a friend, but my family has not, and probably will not. 

There are many reasons for not going to Naked and Chou Chou anymore. The restaurants are no longer suited for my family. My kids and parents simply cannot and don’t want to eat that many courses for lunch or dinner. They like to choose the dishes they want to eat instead of being dictated to by the chef. I also don’t want to spend that much money every time I go. Furthermore, the tasting menus at the restaurants don’t change for the season, and I certainly don’t want to eat the same dishes every month; the restaurants are not for regulars. Perhaps the change to tasting menu-only is good for the chefs and their businesses, but not necessarily for the diners. 

In the February, 2013 issue of Vanity Fair, Corby Kummer wrote an article titled “Tyranny–It’s What’s for Dinner”. Kummer criticized the endless multi-course meals at some of the best restaurants in the U.S., where the diners have no say over what he or she would eat. Instead of caring for the diners, the restaurants demand total reverence to the chefs’ creations. Kummer attributed this phenomenon mainly to two chefs, Charlie Trotter and Thomas Keller. While Kummer came across as a jaded diner, I agreed with some of his points of view. However, Kummer was writing about a very small sampling of restaurants and they were some of the most expensive and prestigious restaurants in the world: French Laundry, Per Se, Eleven Madison, Alinea, Noma, and the now closed Charlie Trotter. 

Most of the diners in these restaurants are local residents with special occasions to celebrate or tourists. They want to experience the creations of the world’s most talented chefs, who have ambitions to change the future of food. Eating at these three-Michelin star restaurants is akin to going to the Museum of Modern Art to see the works by Jasper Johns and Richard Serra. And if a person has the financial means to be a regular, these chefs are happy to customize the menu. Keller actually changes his menu everyday at the French Laundry and Per Se. Regular customers at Charlie Trotter never got the same meal twice since Trotter made it a point never to repeat a dish. Therefore, when I read the article at that time, the idea of tyranny didn’t register strongly with me. 

Little did I know that eight years later the idea of tasting menu-only restaurant is not only ubiquitous among the above average Western and Japanese restaurants in Taipei, it is gaining traction among mid-range restaurants. While the chefs in Taipei are good and talented they are not in the same league as Grant Achatz, Daniel Humm, or René Redzepi. The main reason chefs in Taipei offer tasting menu-only is not to express their artistic and culinary ambitions, nor the diners’ wish to experience the chefs’ geniuses, rather it is economics. 

In contrast to à la carte, a single tasting menu for all the diners is easier for the restaurants to control cost. Together with a strict reservation policy such as charging a deposit when booking a seat, the restaurants know exactly how many of each dish needs to be made. There is less prep work and less waste. Besides the savings on food cost, the restaurants also save time and money on training the staff. In the current environment where good cooks are hard to find, one tasting menu means only a finite number of dishes needs to be mastered. Given that some of the dishes on the tasting menu are often cold, they can be made far in advance. And since the same dishes are served to everyone in the same sequence, it is easier for the kitchen to assemble the dishes during service. All these factors allow the chefs to better control the quality of the food. And unlike the French Laundry where the menu is slightly different everyday, the tasting menus in Taipei stay the same for months. The chef doesn’t have to go to the market every morning to see what’s fresh and then go back to the kitchen to develop new dishes à la minute. 

The tasting menu-only format is also easier for the front of house staff. Instead of setting the table for different dishes for each diners, everything is the same. The servers also just need to memorize a script to explain the dishes to the diners without any spontaneity. Maybe one day the restaurants just need robots to deliver the food from the kitchen to the table. The work of the sommelier for wine pairing is also simpler. There’s no need to open different bottles to pair with the different dishes of the diners at the same time. There is also no need to ask the diners what they like to drink. All the choices are made already and good for at least three months. And if a diner doesn’t like the pairing, that’s the diner’s problem. 

Tasting menu-only also guarantees a minimum amount of expenditures by the diners. The restaurants don’t need to be concerned if a table of four is only going to order two appetizers to share to start and skip the desserts at the end. Everyone is charged the same amount independent of the diner’s real desire. Since most restaurants in Taipei cannot rely on diners to spend money on wine, the tasting menu and wine pairing provide more stability with the revenue. 

Tasting menu is also easier for publicity purposes. The restaurant conjures up some concepts for the tasting menu which get regurgitated across the traditional and social media. The release of a new set of dishes becomes an event to be experienced by the diners. It is much harder to market if the restaurant just has a few new dishes a month or a different menu everyday. Going to these tasting menu-only restaurants and eating the chefs’ creations is now similar to going to fashion shows every season. If one hangs around with the so-called foodies in Taipei, one would hear questions such as, “Have you tried this season’s menu at RAW or Logy?” In a city where FOMO (fear of missing out) is prevalent and hipsters spend more money on experience for Instagram than goods, the tasting menus at the hard-to-book restaurants have become the new proxy for lifestyle. 

Another reason for the ubiquity of the tasting menu-only format is the Michelin Guide. There seems to be a conception that Michelin likes tasting menu. In 2019 when I was having lunch at Jean Georges in New York City, I was told the restaurant would soon change the format to tasting menu. One of the reasons was the restaurant hoped to regain its third Michelin star. I was disappointed to hear the news. At lunchtime, a diner used to be able to order à la carte with just a minimum of two dishes. The excellent food, great service, and flexibility with the menu made Jean Georges my favorite place to lunch in New York City.

The Michelin Guide arrived in Taipei in 2018. The effect of the Guide on the dining scene is enormous. Now instead of cooking for the average diners, chefs are cooking for the Michelin Guide inspectors. Getting a Michelin star not only ensures an increase in business, it also puts the starred chef on the international circuit and press. Currently in Taipei there are 29 starred restaurants in the Taipei 2022 Michelin Guide. 16 restaurants are tasting menu-only (Longtail serves a different à la carte menu after 9pm). Of the other 13 restaurants with à la carte, nine are Chinese/Taiwanese restaurants and three are steakhouse/grill (Danny's Steakhouse, A Cut, Da Wan). Only one gourmet Western restaurant, L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon, offers both à la carte and tasting menus. 

Why do Chinese restaurants always have à la carte? Because the local diners don’t expect anything less. In fact, if I walk into a Chinese restaurant where there is just one tasting menu, I would think the chef has very limited skills and cannot manage a large brigade. A tasting menu is usually reserved for banquets (often lousy in quality) at weddings or mass gatherings. No self-respecting Chinese foodie will order a tasting menu at a Chinese restaurant. Ordering dishes involves consultation with the maitre d'hotel on what’s good for the day and the occasion. Ordering for the table is an art and shows the sophistication of the diner. 

One would think that since the Chinese food is shared while Western cuisine is not, that the tasting menu would be more prevalent in the West. In fact the European restaurants don’t just have tasting menus either. Look at the Italians. Many of the three-Michelin star restaurants in Italy, Osteria Francescana, La Pergola, Le Calandre, Enoteca Pinchiorri, all have à la carte in addition to tasting menus. Italy’s most famous chef Massimo Bottura can easily switch to a tasting menu-only format at his restaurant in Modena and people would still be flocking to his restaurant. 

Diners in Taipei spend more money with tasting menu at Western restaurants than at comparable Chinese restaurants. However, they are not getting a luxury product. Tasting menu is not bespoke, rather it is assembly line cuisine. The restaurant doesn’t really care what the diners want to eat. If the diners don’t like the dish, it is the diner’s problem, not the chef. 

When I first went to Taïrroir, it didn’t have any Michelin star. The restaurant is tasting menu-only and one of the dishes (the chef’s signature) has taro. I don’t like taro and when I asked if the chef could substitute the ingredient, the answer was no. The substitution of an ingredient was perhaps too troublesome for the kitchen. Or maybe the chef thought I wanted to mess up his masterpiece. Either way, clearly the chef didn’t care about the preference of the diner. The server didn’t offer an alternative dish either. Take it or leave it. I haven’t been back to Taïrroir ever since. Now with two Michelin stars the kitchen probably care even less about the customers. 

Eating a tasting menu in restaurants in Taipei reminds me of buying music on cassette tapes in the 80’s. Too often an artist (Bobby McFerrin) or group (A-Ha) would release one great song. But in order to get that song, one has to buy the entire album. Besides the one great hit, the rest of the album are full of lackluster songs. Skipping to the one great song on a tape machine is not as easy as on a CD player. Many tasting menus at restaurants are similar. Only a fraction of the dishes on the menu are really good, the rest are not fully thought out and are just there to pad the bill. While the music industry is moving away from the idea of an album and giving some of the purchasing power back to the consumer, the restaurant industry in Taipei seems to be just the opposite. 

Another problem with tasting menu in Taipei is many chefs simply have very limited skills and imaginations. They don’t have the discipline and creativity of someone like Thomas Keller. At Keller’s French Laundry and Per Se, no single ingredient is ever repeated throughout the meal. If the restaurant doesn’t allow me to choose a balanced meal, I expect the restaurant to give variety in dishes and not have repetition. A few months ago I had dinner at the Japanese restaurant, Watanabe, and the chef served uni with three different courses. The chef could not make dish without uni. How about just make a shorter menu and charge less money? 

In general I like tasting menu when the kitchen is helmed by a highly skilled chef with a strong point of view about food and sequence. And sometimes the best thing to hear from a server is “the Chef would like to cook for you”. But very few restaurants in Taipei are at the level where I can simply trust the chef to make a great meal. 

Given the economics of the Western restaurants in Taipei, I know I cannot expect to see a menu like the one at the three Michelin-star Le Bernardin in New York City: a four course prix fixe dinner with multiple choices for each course, an eight-course chef’s tasting menu, and an eight-course vegetarian menu. Besides the formal dining room, Le Bernardin even offers a separate lounge menu. 

Perhaps we should look to the French chefs as the model. Many high end restaurants in France offer a very limited menu. But they almost always offer the diners a choice. At Alain Ducasse’s Louis XV in Monte Carlo the menu changes with the seasons and there are around five starters, seven main courses, cheeses, and five desserts. Diners can also select the Gourmet menu which has three dishes at half portions, cheeses, and desserts selected by the Chef. A similar format is at the hottest new restaurant in Paris, Jean Imbert at Plaza Athénée. On the menu of this media-savvy chef, there are five starters, six main courses, cheeses, and six desserts. If the diners wish to taste more dishes there is the option of Le Menu de Jean with three half portion dishes, cheese, and dessert. The dishes in the tasting menu consist of items in the à la carte, just in half portions. This way, the scope of work for the kitchen is limited while also giving the diners some options. 

During the Covid pandemic the three Michelin-star chef Yannick Alleno of Pavillon Ledoyen published a new book, "Tout doit changer!" (Everything must change), that serves as his manifesto for post-Covid haute cuisine. Instead of having a fixed menu he proposed to speak with diners a few days before the meal to discuss their preferences and budgets. Alleno said, “We can no longer impose a menu on the guests”. This is the exact opposite of the current trend of tasting-menu only at the restaurants in Taipei, where food comes off an assembly line with no regard for the diners’ desires. Alleno in Paris is moving towards a bespoke menu as the future of cuisine. Will Taipei follow?

Go to Town: Town by Bryan Nagao

Town by Bryan Nagao opened in 2018 in Taipei, but I didn’t set foot in the restaurant until late last year. The main reason was when the restaurant first opened, I heard conflicting reviews of the restaurant from friends and family; the negative outnumbered the positive ones. As the buzz died down after a few months of the opening, friends gradually stopped mentioning about Town. And I kind of forgot about the restaurant. 

In the summer of last year a friend asked me to join him for dinner at a newly opened restaurant in Taipei. Unbeknownst to me, chef Nagao was in my dining party. When Nagao sat down my friend said to me, “You must know Bryan”. Actually I didn’t and never tried his food. But I enjoyed eating with Nagao and told him I would visit his restaurant. In November I ate at Town for the first time. A couple of months later I went again and tried a slightly different menu. In short, I enjoyed both of my dinners.

Town is located on the third floor of a four-story building on Xinyi Road, diagonally across the street from the original Ding Tai Fung. The restaurant does not have an entrance directly off the street. But the signage on one of the doors of the storefront suggests there is one. The first time I was there I was confused as to how to enter the restaurant. To get to Town, one actually has to walk through the length of the ground floor cafe counter, pass the stairs going to the second floor, and look for a glass door on the left. The short corridor leads to a small elevator. The elevator door on the third floor opens to a transitional space that doesn’t engage the diners. The entire entry sequence is a bit awkward. 

The rest of the interior design is much better considered. Before getting to the receptionist stand, one walks past the open kitchen on the left. This is a nice feature. The guests get to meet chef Nagao at the green marble pass with the heat lamps and see how their food is made. As expected, the open kitchen is clean, bright and professional. The chef can welcome the guests before taking their seats in the dining hall, as if they are coming to his home. Nagao used to split his time between his restaurants in Hong Kong and Taipei. Since Town in Hong Kong closed in March 2019 and the pandemic hit in 2020, Nagao is spending all his time in Taipei. Therefore, when one walks into Town one is likely to see Nagao in the kitchen. 

The floor plan of the building consists of two structural bays of equal width. The public dining room occupies one bay and the two private rooms take up the other. Each bay has a balcony overlooking Xinyi Road. While I never see anyone on the balcony it is still nice to have floor to ceiling glass on one side of the room. The public dining room has a center aisle with seating on two sides. One side consists of three circular shaped green banquettes with round dark grey marble tables, while the other side has square tables and blue chairs set up for parties of four. The tables are nicely space. 

The various light fixtures in the public dining room are all in spherical glass shapes: wall mounted next to the square tables, table mounted in between the banquettes, and ceiling-hung above the receptionist stand. The three round tables each has an additional round metal lamp above them. The ceiling above the round tables even has circular alcoves that echo the shape of the banquette. The circular shapes are contrasted with the herringbone wood flooring. It is clear that a lot of thoughts were put into the design and the overall ambiance is quite pleasant. 

For both of my dinners I was seated at the first round table. The marble table and the lamp above have a retro feel as they reminded me of the Tulip table by Eero Saarinen and Arco lamp by Achille Castiglioni produced in the middle of the twentieth century. The silverware were placed on one side on a metal ledge. The table setting was pleasant but the placement of the menu was a bit awkward. The menu was tucked slightly under the top of the napkin. The napkin is folded into a rectangle with a width that matches the menu. The alignment of the menu and the napkin was clearly intentional but didn’t enhance the visual appearance of either. 

Town is open only for dinner and serves one menu for all the diners. The format is a tasting menu with nine courses plus amuse-bouches to start and mignardises to end. Four out of the nine courses have two different dishes for the diners to choose. The main savory course has three to four choices and carries different prices depending on the ingredients. As the season changes so does the menu. The menus at Town actually reminds me of the menus by Thomas Keller, which uses quotation marks pervasively. The menu refers and twists traditional flavors and technique. Any food lovers would be happy to read the menu that show the depth of Nagao’s knowledge and his ease of playing with the vocabularies of different cuisines. 

Dinner started with a couple of amuse-bouches. At my first dinner I was served a gougère and a waffle topped with foie gras mousse. The gougère was good but would be better if it was warmer; this is not easy as the puff is not large. The waffle was also good but a bit sweet. The flavor profile didn’t quite wake up the palette as I expected an amuse to do. In fact it dulled the appetite a bit. At my second dinner, the gougère appeared again, but the waffle was replaced by a crab tartlet topped with a sliced of black truffle. The crab was fresh and sweet and the truffle gave the flavor an earthiness. It was a delicious bite of food and made even better with a glass of champagne. 

After the amuse-bouches, a Parker House roll was brought to the table wrapped in paper. The bread was warm and served with smoked pistachio butter. I was happy to see an American bread. While the bread was nice, each diner got exactly one roll and no more. The bread plate was taken away after the bread was finished. The portion of the butter was generous and the flavor was interesting, but I wished there was more bread to spread it on. Perhaps Nagao is following the more recent trend at fine dining restaurants such as Per Se and Eleven Madison Park, where bread is listed on the menu, treated as a course, and each diner gets just one. 

Nagao didn’t seem to have a fixed format for the first course. At my first dinner it was a choice between lamb tartare or quail. At my second dinner it was scallop or red prawn. Some chefs set up their tasting menus with a first course that’s light, acidic, or with raw seafood, and then move into the heavier dishes. Nagao did not and instead produced dishes that were strong and full of flavors. For instance, the scallop I had was served with 36-month jamon from Cinco Jotas, chestnuts, and a soubise sauce. The dish was delicious and well made. The portion was small but just right; any bigger would be too heavy to start the dinner. 

The second course was a custard which Nagao produced different variations with different ingredients and sauces. The first one I had was with crab, oxtail marmalade, and onion jus. The second time it was with abalone, caviar and chicken jus. The custard is another good dish that was packed with flavors. The dish was also very beautiful especially with the blue bowl. The wooden spoon provided to eat the dish with was a nice break from the ubiquitous stainless tableware. 

However there was no pause on flavors. The third course that followed was a beef tripe and sweetbread with ragout. I like offal and I believe Nagao does as well. I enjoyed eating this dish. But I wouldn’t mind having some bread on the side to sop up the sauce. 

A soup was the fourth course. While I knew from the menu that it wasn’t something light such as a consommé or vegetable soup, I didn’t expect a full body bouillabaisse. At my two dinners, Nagao made the fish soup with different toppings; once with scallop and cauliflower, and the other with shirako and rouille. The soup was hearty and very flavorful. 

The fifth course was a pasta. There were two choices and one of them was uni tagliatelle that carried a supplemental charge of NT$220. The uni was served whole and sat on a small bed of pasta with slivers of jamon Iberico. I really enjoyed this dish, however I wished there were more pasta. On my second dinner I had a small bite of my dining companion’s uni pasta and it was a bit too salty. The ingredients, uni, Iberico ham, and cured pork fat were all salty to begin with so they could easily make the dish over seasoned. My friend’s pasta was also not hot enough. Since the pasta and the uni were not tossed in a hot pan, the temperature of the dish was not easy to control. This dish was really delicious when it was executed well. 

For my second dinner I tried the ravioli with peas and black truffle. The dish tasted as good as it looked. 

The sixth course was a seafood. At my first dinner I had an abalone with foie gras, house-made XO sauce, radish, and grapefruit. The dish was well executed and good but I wanted a bit more balance of flavors. 

The main savory dish was the seventh course. The portion for this dish was larger than the previous courses. There were three to four choices. The choice also determined the price of the entire dinner, ranging from around NT$2,480 to NT$2,880. Each of the main course also came with a side dish. I’ve tried three of the main courses and all of them were very good. At my first dinner I had the slow-cooked suckling pig, which was a reference to Kalua, the traditional cooking method in Hawaii. Since Nagao grew up in Hawaii, this could be considered a version of his hometown cooking. The pork was beautiful and reminded me of the Meat-Shaped Stone at the National Palace Museum. The side dish was a pork fat rice that was very delicious and reminded me of the rice dishes in Cantonese cuisine. 

At my second dinner I had the beef tongue with a side dish of beef cheek pie. It was another very nice dish that was well executed; just look at the sheen on all the sauces. However, the dish was almost a bit too much of a good thing. I wanted more contrast and balance to the high fat content of the beef tongue. I also ate half of my companion’s lobster with green Thai curry. My friend felt the lobster was under cooked, but I thought it was perfect. The flavor was interesting and very good. The side dish was a small lobster roll. All the main courses had many components and required a lot of work. They were well made and showed the range of Nagao’s cooking. Based on the main courses, it was hard to pin down Nagao’s style as he didn’t limit himself to any particular type of cuisines nor flavors. 

At both of my dinners I chose to have the wine pairing. There were two options and the prices were reasonable: 4 glasses for NT$1,280 or 6 glasses for NT$1,880. I enjoyed the conversations with the sommelier. She chose wines from a wide range of areas, including Alsace, Hungary, Austria, and Sicily; there was also sake from Japan. I agreed with her the wines from Alsace went well with Nagao’s food. I was happy to see her pour wines from Alsace and Austria because people in Taipei don’t drink enough from these regions; usually there’s too much focus on Bordeaux and Burgundy. 

The eighth course was a combination of a cheese course and pre-dessert. Similar to Thomas Keller, I suspect Nagao likes cheese and wants to serve it without bringing a whole cheese cart into the dining room. Instead of having a stand alone composed cheese course as Keller does at Per Se, Nagao combines the cheese with an ice cream or sorbet on top. This is an interesting idea that I don’t think I’ve encountered before. I had the Taleggio cheese and celery lemon sorbet and the Brie with black truffle ice cream. 

The last course was the dessert and both times I had the chocolate mousse flavored with Longan and served with grape sorbet. The flavors were wonderful and I liked the combinations. But the hazelnut chip on top of the mousse was crisp at the first dinner and less so on the second. After the desserts there were two mignardises to accompany the coffee or tea. The mignardises were well made and a nice way to end the dinner. 

The service at my two dinners was very nice and the experience was very pleasant. The noise level at the restaurant was not high and I felt comfortable lingering at the restaurant. 

One of the problems with Town is consistency. I had the uni pasta and the chocolate dessert at two separate dinners and the qualities ranged from great to so-so. Perhaps there were simply too many components in the dinner and the ambitions of Nagao were not matched by the capabilities of his staff. Nevertheless I have a hard time understanding why Town is not in the Michelin Guide Taipei. Everyone knows that Michelin places a great emphasis on consistency. While this may preclude Town from getting a star, but surely Town deserves a Plate recognition. 

Dining at Town begs the question, are there too much flavors? This is a question I never imagined I would ask in Taipei. The diners in Taipei have a tendency towards blandness, demanding chefs to use less salt and less sugar. As such, often times there are simply not enough flavors. Town is just the opposite. From the first course to the last, Nagao doesn’t let up with the packing of flavors. And since his flavor profile tends towards salty, sweet, umami, and less on acidity and bitter, there is the danger of palette fatigue. The flavors are big and direct but after several courses one craves for more contrast, balance, and subtleties. 

It is also possible that some of the palette fatigue is my own doing. Like a moth to flame, when I see dishes with tongue, sweetbread, foie gras, jamon, and uni on the menu, I will order them. The two menus I had were also for the winter time and it was the season for heavier and more hearty food. 

When one eats at Town one gets Nagao’s personalities on the plates. Did every dish work and deliver the wow effect? Not necessarily. Were all the flavors engineered and balanced precisely? Not all the time. But what’s wonderful about Nagao is his unique ideas and interesting combinations of flavors that one won’t find elsewhere in Taipei. He uses his experience from different parts of the world and put his own spin on the different cuisines. He understands the culinary traditions but is not bounded by them. Call it fusion or whatever term one likes, Nagao is doing his own food and it is a very good thing.