Bencotto with Iacopo Frassi: The Mind and the Heart of Italian Cooking and Eating

"Because the French cook with their brains, it's intellectual. Look at the Italians, it's from the heart, isn't it? It's more emotional, and that's the difference between the two cuisines," remarked the great British chef Marco Pierre White. The observation is an oversimplification of the two cuisines, but there certainly are differences; just consider the French cuisine's tendency to recreate natural forms versus Italian's indifference towards imitating nature. However, since France and Italy share a border, most of the cuisines in the two countries fall between the two extremes. In making the claim, perhaps White was merely reflecting on himself as having the best of both worlds. He was born by an Italian mother but professionally trained by the French; even his names Marco and Pierre are a combination of the two languages. White's claim triggers a question in my mind, is the best kind of chef a combination of opposite approaches? In other words, is good cooking ultimately about finding a balance between the mind and the heart?

The question kept surfacing on my mind when I ate the food prepared by chef Iacopo Frassi at Bencotto, the Italian restaurant at Mandarin Oriental Taipei. Frassi took over Bencotto as the Chef de Cuisine in the late summer of 2018. The main concept of Frassi's cuisine is declared on Bencotto's website: "contemporary interpretation of timeless Italian culinary heritage". This statement seems to be a mind bender since the idea of timelessness is antithetical to modern re-interpretation. Nevertheless, Frassi is keen to creating new Italian cuisine by reworking the classics. This is a significant shift from the previous iterations of Bencotto, which touted itself as a place for "Home-cooked Italian Cuisine". There is a re-balance of the mind and the heart.

The previous chef of Bencotto, Loris Pistillo, has moved back to Seoul after less than two years in Taipei. Pistillo's cooking was simple and graceful. While Pistillo wasn't a traditionalist, he wasn't overtly trying to re-conceptualize Italian cuisine. The cooking felt from the heart. To emphasize the heart of Italian cooking, twice during his tenure, Pistillo even invited his mother Angela to make pasta at Bencotto. The pastas were delicious and everything one imagines Italian cuisine to be; truly the Italian nonna-style. As one ate the pasta, one didn't think about the need to re-invent Italian cuisine.

New ideas may be good and interesting, but they are not necessarily better or more delicious. Given that traditions in Italian cuisine are so strong, attempts to create new Italian dishes are extremely challenging. In contrast to Pistillo, Frassi is more of a risk taker and as such, the rewards might be bigger but so are the pitfalls. Notwithstanding, Frassi's food is more intriguing and poses more questions than answers for the minds of the diners.

Frassi is a young chef, not even 30 years old. He hails from Tuscany, Italy. Prior to coming to Taipei, he spent almost two years as the chef de cuisine at the Italian restaurant in the Four Seasons Hotel in Tianjin, China. The short stay in Asia hasn't impacted his cooking significantly yet. His cooking mainly reflects his training in Europe. It probably won't come as a surprise that Frassi not only trained with Italian chefs in Italy, but with a French chef. In his formative years, he was a chef de partie at Alain Ducasse's three-Michelin-star restaurant in London. The connection with France goes beyond Frassi himself. Frassi's masters in Italy also trained with French Michelin-star chefs: Antonio Guida with Pierre Gagnaire and Giuseppe Mancino with Alain Ducasse. While it is hard to quantify how much the French way of cooking and thinking have influenced Frassi, his cooking is different from a chef trained solely in the Italian traditions.

Since Frassi took over Bencotto, I have dined at the restaurant five times on various occasions: lunch with business associates, dinners with family and friends, dinner with a large group, with and without Frassi in the kitchen. I didn't like everything I ate. In fact my first time at the restaurant under his helm, I came away a little disappointed. I wondered to myself, did I order the wrong dishes? But in subsequent visits, I have increasingly come to like the food more. Perhaps I am starting to understand what the chef is trying to do.

Frassi proposed his first menu in October of 2018. Several dishes on the previous menu, more representative of traditional and simple Italian food, are no longer present; the salumi platter, mozzarella salad, pizza, panna cotta, have all disappeared. The new menu is more concise, and organized in the familiar four-course Italian cuisine of starter, pasta, main course and dessert. While many dishes on the menu sound familiar, such as Polpo e Patate, Astice alla Catalana, Diavola, Rossini, and Carbonara, they are not what they seem to be. Each of these classic dishes have been re-imagined.

Instead of the traditional Pollo alla Diavola seasoned with cayenne pepper, Frassi replaces the chicken with the more luxurious saddle of lamb. The meat is topped with a spicy pesto and a rustic Ndjua sauce. The Astice alla Catalana is enhanced by a corn sauce poured table side in addition to the lobster sauce in the middle. The combination of corn and lobster reminds me of the flavors in American cuisine. The presentation is quite elegant and is certainly not your average lobster tartare. These dishes show that Frassi has a tendency towards complexity by layering condiments with sauce or having two sauces in one dish. While I enjoyed these two dishes, some of Frassi's other twists of traditional dishes didn't work as well.

A dish that was more interesting in concept than in taste was the Ravioli alla Carbonara. The idea seems to be derived from the combination of two Italian classics: Spaghetti Carbonara and Tortellini en Brodo. Instead of coating the pasta on the outside with carbonara sauce, the egg mixture is encased inside. Instead of chicken stock, the soup is infused with pancetta. While there are only a few ingredients, the dish felt a bit much, mainly because of the combination of two types of sauces of different viscosities. The ravioli with a sauce inside is almost a bit like a soup dumpling. I don't think another soup is necessary on the outside.

For a ravioli dish I prefer Frassi's two-tone ravioli with shrimp and lemon. This dish is more complex than the Ravioli alla Carbonara, yet the taste has more clarity and is very nice.



Another dish that I understand in concept but not in taste is Baccala alla Rossini. As the name suggests the dish is inspired by the French classic Tournedos Rossini: filet mignon topped with seared foie gras and served with truffle and Madeira sauce. Instead of beef, Frassi reimagines the dish with black cod. Besides the classic ingredients, he adds the local spice Sebastan Plum Cordia (破布子), which the Taiwanese uses with steamed fish. Instead of crouton, the local vegetable under the dish provides a little crunch. The flavors are not balanced enough and taste is too sweet. Perhaps my palette is biased, but I don't like seafood with sweet sauce. While in the classic Rossini the filet is tender, the black cod is more tender, making the overall texture of the dish too soft. The use of local ingredients are nice, but they didn't really work for me. The dish seems too disconnected from Italy. My impression is Frassi thought too much about the concept of the dish and made it too complicated. Creativity and deliciousness don't aways go hand in hand.

I prefer the other fish dish on the menu, Dal Giappone alla Toscana, red garoupa with eggplant miso chutney, pickled vegetables, and Cacciucco sauce. While miso is not a traditional ingredient in Tuscany, the use of eggplant, pickled vegetable, and the Italian fish stew sauce certainly evokes Italy.

There are two risotto on the menu One is a reference to the ingredients of pizza while the other is with seafood. While both risotto are well executed, I prefer the one with seafood. The Risotto alla Pizzaiola looks fun and is a more interesting idea in terms of presentation. But at the same time, the effect is more forced and actually feels less Italian. Perhaps one of the reasons I like the seafood risotto better is the use of more luxurious ingredients of oyster, sea urchin and red shrimp; the dish is much more expensive. I also like the fact that the rice is served table side, and covered the seafood in a more natural and casual manner. It is as if the chef is saying the ingredients are good enough that he isn't worrying about the presentation.

One of Frassi's signature dishes on the menu is the Piccione Toscano. Just based on the appearance, one can tell this pigeon main course requires a lot of skills in the kitchen. While this is a multi-component dish that is complex, I like it. The pigeon is cooked very well and is very tasty. The only problem is with the small bites, the food doesn't stay hot enough.

Sometimes when Frassi doesn't overthink the dishes, the results are wonderful as in the main course Manzetta Tartufata, Australian Wagyu beef striploin with morel mushrooms, black truffle, and licorice mayonnaise. The beef is cooked well and the flavors are great.

Another spectacular dish at Bencotto is the pumpkin gnocchi with chestnut, cheese, and white truffle. The flavors of the seasonal ingredients go well together. And there is a simplicity and heartiness to the dish that make it deeply satisfying.

One problem I encountered over the many meals at Bencotto was the inconsistency in the the seasoning for the savory courses. A beef dish I had was a bit salty while the Osso Buco that accompanied the risotto was a bit under-seasoned. I suspect the reason is the chef hasn't been able to calibrate to the palette of the local diners. While I have a high tolerance for salt, most local diners do not. Many feedback from the local diners in the earlier months of the chef's tenure probably were about saltiness of the food. This issue happens to many foreign chefs when they first arrive in Taiwan, but will likely be resolved as time passes.

Desserts at Bencotto are more delicate now than before. I enjoyed a dish named Bianco Mangiare, or Eat White. The name doesn't reference another dish in Italian cuisine. As such I can simply enjoy the yogurt mousse, pine nuts, banana gelato, and crispy yuzu as the taste themselves. The white crisps are broken in pieces of different sizes and geometry that don't feel fussy, yet produce a sense of mystery that is nice.

In contrast, the dessert called Il Tiramisu is less interesting, and consists of a Mascarpone sphere with a quenelle of Italian espresso gelato, and pieces of sponge cake (perhaps made with the Albert Adrià microwave technique). The Tiramisu at Bencotto is technically more sophisticated than a classic Tiramisu, but not as satisfying to eat. The great thing about the classic Tiramisu is the sum is better than the parts. Together the mascarpone, sugar, egg, ladyfingers and cocoa powder create a bite of flavor that is magical. By separating the Tiramisu into distinctive parts, the presentation is elegant, but the taste is not better than the messy classic version. Once the components are separated, the Tiramsu loses its raison d'être. Bencotto’s version begs the question, at what point is the reference to the classic dish no longer valid or necessary?

In the four years that Bencotto has been in operation, many mid-range Italian restaurants have opened in Taipei: La Mole, Il Mercato, La Locanda, Botega del Vin, Cantina del Gio, Di Vino...etc. While the food and decor of these restaurants are not as posh as Bencotto, they are also not as expensive. In terms of value to the diners, the gap between them and Bencotto is not that far apart. This is perhaps one of the reasons that the management of Mandarin Oriental Taipei has decided to re-orient Bencotto as a fine dining restaurant. Another reason might be the arrival of the Michelin Guide in the spring of 2018. The hotel wants another star restaurant to bolster its standing as the best in Taipei. Bencotto already has the infrastructure for a fine dining restaurant: a fancy interior, a dedicated sommelier, and an experienced front of house team. The management of the hotel has also eliminated the buffet lunches on the weekend; I can finally go to Bencotto for lunch on the weekend again. The repositioning of Bencotto has already paid dividend as the restaurant was awarded one fork by Gambero Rosso in November of 2018.

A meal at Bencotto now starts with a trio of appetizing amuse-busches. This is followed by an excellent house-made bread served with a choice of three olive oils and two types of balsamic vinegars. Furthermore, when the bread and bread sticks are placed on the table, the server spritzes from a bottle made by Antonella Bondi to simulate the smell of freshly baked bread. The food fragrance is fun but a bit forced and gimmicky.

As with a Michelin-star restaurant, the meal ends with a trio of mignardises, which are all very good.

Elevating the food also means elevating the prices. The main courses at Bencotto used to average around NT$1,000. Now they are around NT$1,600 and with a pigeon dish exceeding NT$2,000 (around US$67). While not as expensive as the three-Michelin-star Italian restaurant in Hong Kong or at Frassi's mentor's restaurant in Milan, some of the prices at Bencotto are not too far off from other Michelin-starred Italian restaurants. For instance, a main course of striped bass or halibut at the two-Michelin-star Marea in New York City costs around US$58 (including tax and tip) or NT$1,800. The main course of garoupa at Bencotto is NT$1,738 (including service charge). A four-course meal à la carte at Bencotto now can easily run over NT$4,300 inclusive of the 10% service charge (around US$140): with a appetizer at NT$980, pasta at NT$880, main course at NT$1580, and dessert at NT$480.

Instead of ordering a la carte, the better way in terms of cost may be to go with the set menu at lunch time. The three-course lunch of appetizer, main course, and dessert is NT$1,488. All the dishes in the à la carte menu can be selected and are just served at smaller portions. There are no supplemental charges. So for anyone looking for the best value, just order a foie gras terrine to start, followed by the pigeon as the main course, and chocolate cake as the dessert.

The service at Bencotto has improved from the last time I wrote about the restaurant. Part of the reason has to be members who have been there since the opening have gained more experience and grown with the job. The sommelier Alex Tsai has also been at Bencotto since the opening. He has always been very professional and seems more relaxed now. I enjoy talking to him about wines.

The wine list at Bencotto has expanded and even received an award from Wine Spectator magazine. However, the wines at Bencotto are still too expensive. For instance, some of the bottles at Bencotto are more expensive than the three-Michelin-star restaurant Per Se in New York City. Consider a bottle of Barolo Carobric 2001 by Paolo Scavino. At Bencotto the price is NT$12,500 (including service charge), and at Per Se the same bottle is around NT$11,000 (including service charge and tax). The Barolo Brunate 2009 by Vietti is NT$16,500 at Bencotto and NT$15,800 at Per Se. Per Se has one of the highest mark-ups for wines in New York City, and it is unthinkable for Bencotto to be more expensive.

The prices at Bencotto are crazier if one compares them to restaurants less fancy than Per Se. For example, a bottle of the non-vintage Billecart-Salmon Brut Rose is NT$10,120 at Bencotto and around NT$7,600 at the two-Michelin-star Italian restaurant Marea in New York City. A bottle of Barolo 2013 from Pio Cesare is NT$9,350 at Bencotto, but NT$4,950 at a fine dining French restaurant in Taipei. The Pio Cesare Barolo 2013 can be purchased at icheers.tw, an online wine store in Taiwan for NT$2,635 (15% off the retail list price). Assuming Mandarin Oriental can buy the same bottle at wholesale price, the markup at Bencotto for the bottle is around 400%. Why do the prices at Bencotto have to be so high? I understand the need to mark-up wines at a restaurant, but at least do it at a reasonable rate that I can swallow.

​The corkage fee at Bencotto is NT$1,000 per bottle. The corkage fee at Per Se is around NT$4,600 (US$150). If Bencotto’s prices for wines are more expensive than Per Se, why not charge the same for corkage? The restaurant is basically encouraging the local diners to bring their own wines. I am not a tuhao (土豪) nor do I like bringing wines to a restaurant with a sommelier. Therefore, I usually just order a wine by the glass with my meal at Bencotto. It's unfortunate the pricing at Bencotto discourages the diners to order and enjoy the wines by the bottles.

While the cuisine and service at Bencotto have evolved, the physical environment has changed very little since I wrote about the restaurant four years ago. The uncomfortable chairs at the tables surrounding the center piece in the backroom are still there. The awkwardly located sitting area remains unoccupied by guests. At least the flat screen TV showing Italian football is thankfully no longer present (hidden behind the cabinet doors). The wine tasting room near the back entrance is now set up as a semi-private dining room. Previously this room with a beautiful wall of wines behind glass was just be a space to be admired rather than used. While the interior of Bencotto is nice, there is room for adjustment. After four years in operation, it is clear that some of the intended purposes and functions in the original design didn't pan out. And since the service at Bencotto is changing with the food, for instance more carts are wheeled around the dining room, it is time to rethink the interior layout. This may require more time, after all physical environment is more difficult to change than the menu.

Bencotto is in a period of transition. The restaurant is changing for the better and moving in the right direction, but it is not there yet. Frassi is a young chef but someone with passion and technical prowess. He is still developing his style. The desire to go beyond the classics and to create new dishes is necessary. After all, what is a classic but an invention that worked? The road to making new classics are paved with failed experiments. Re-inventing Italian cuisine is especially difficult because many iconic Italian dishes are so delicious and entrenched in people's minds, that often times the new dishes feel too foreign or pale by comparison.

Italian cuisine always seems to project a sense of tradition and an authenticity that does not change. However, this is not entirely true. Many things in Italian cuisine that we deem as sacred are not historical but modern inventions. For instance, Spaghetti Carbonara is not a dish from the 19th century but rather an invention from the 1950's. The Tiramisu was first created in the 1960's. The Ciabatta bread that we often see in Italian restaurants all over the world was created in the 1980's. None of these things are in Pellegrino Artusi's iconic book on Italian cuisine, Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well, published in the late 19th century.

Whether old or new, Italian cuisine is about finding the balance between creativity and simplicity. The mind and the heart are not always compatible. Frassi's cooking right now seems more conceptual than visceral. Many of the dishes are too complicated with too many components. The techniques and capabilities of the cooks are impressive, but they don't necessarily increase the level of deliciousness. Some of the dishes make references to the classics, but I don't know if the connections are necessary. By framing the dishes via the classics, the diners' reactions are bounded; diners are asked to intellectualize the dish (connect the dots) rather than react from the heart. However, eating is not always a rational act but also an emotional one. At Bencotto, I find myself wanting to just enjoy the food without thinking about them too much. The restaurant doesn't quite allow me to do that yet, but it is a very interesting place to dine. I am curious to see how Bencotto will evolve.

Michelin Guide Taipei

“Michelin is the only guide that counts," said Paul Bocuse. The great chef might be a little biased since he is French and his restaurant has been rated three stars continuously by Michelin for over 50 years. Since Michelin's inception in 1900, its supremacy has constantly been challenged by other restaurant guides: Gault and Millau, Zagat, Gambero Rosso, World's Best 50, La Liste, Dianping...etc. In cities around the world, local arbiters of tastes, such as the New York Times Restaurant Critic, may hold more sway with their local diners. While these different guides, crowd-sourced websites, and critics have all garnered enormous power, none of them have the same global influence and prestige as the Michelin Guide. The stars of Michelin is a global currency that doesn't require any translation.

The general public may debate the importance of the Michelin Guide, but chefs care deeply about their Michelin stars. Gordon Ramsay claimed to have cried when he lost his two Michelin stars in New York City. I didn't see the tears but I believe him. Last year, the Japanese sushi chef Mitsuhiro Araki wept openly at the Michelin ceremony in London. He had regained his three-star rating, but it felt like he found his lost child. When he hugged his wife and his lone assistant, they were all beside themselves; their hard work has been validated. It was an extremely moving scene. I didn't know a Japanese chef cared that much about the Michelin Guide.

The Michelin Guide is also the only guide that governments in Asia are willing to pay to come evaluate their restaurants. The Guides in Seoul, Hong Kong, Macau, Bangkok, and Singapore are all commissioned. The specific terms of each sponsorship are not known. The press in Korea reported that the Korean Tourism Organization pays Michelin around US$370,000 a year for four years to release a guide for Seoul. The press in Thailand claimed the Tourism Authority of Thailand pays Michelin close to US$1 million a year for five years to release a guide for Bangkok. The public may never know the real cost of the sponsorship as the deals with Michelin are kept secret. But clearly the governments in Asia see the benefit of commissioning the Guide to attract tourists and to market themselves to the world.

Despite the sponsorship, Michelin Guide is not a money-making business. The Financial Times once reported that the Guide loses US$20 to 30 million a year. This is a small amount for the Guide's parent company, which has net sales of over US$20 billion a year. However, the continuous losses mean, similar to other traditional publications, Michelin has not figured out a way to monetize its digital content to compensate for the decrease in sales of physical guidebooks. As such, Michelin likely will continue to rely on sponsorships to offset the cost of issuing the new Guides.

Ever since Michelin launched the Guide in Hong Kong and Macau in 2008 there had been rumors that the Guide would come to Taipei. Instead, Michelin went to Singapore, Shanghai, Seoul, and Bangkok. The persistent chatter in Taipei was the local government had been unwilling to pay for the Guide. Finally in late 2017 Michelin held a press conference to launch the Guide for Taipei, with sponsorship from the Tourism Bureau of Taiwan. The press in Taiwan reported the cost ranging from NT$50 to 80 million. While the money for Michelin is from the taxpayers, the exact price of the sponsorship is not made public. The government only says Michelin will be in Taipei for at least five years.

What did all the money buy? The inaugural Guide for Taipei, published in March of 2018, recommended a total of 126 restaurants and 25 hotels. Of the 126 restaurants, 20 are starred (1 three-star, 2 two-star and 17 one-star). When the list was announced, many people were surprised, shocked, or incredulous. This was inevitable because Michelin's list will never match anyone's own list. I had my own knee jerk reaction to the result. But the reality is, like most residents of Taipei, I have not been to all of the starred restaurants. Even for some of the ones I have dined at before, the visits were not recent. For instance, I have been to RyuGin only once and it was three years ago. At that time I thought the restaurant was a solid one-star. Has the restaurant improved to two-star as shown in the Guide? I cannot say. Until I visit all the restaurants in a limited span of time, I cannot judge fairly whether the restaurants deserve the stars or not. Nevertheless, I still have some problems with the list produced by Michelin.

Michelin defines one-star as a very good restaurant in its category. When Michelin was rating just the restaurants in France, the categorization of restaurants was quite simple. But ever since Michelin ventured outside of Europe, the idea of a starred restaurant expanded and no longer means a fancy or formal place. Interior design, tableware, and service, which had previously been thought of as an integral part of the criteria for Michelin star, have been downplayed.

This gave rise to casual restaurants being ranked the same as fine dining restaurants. In the first New York City Guide in 2005, the gastropub Spotted Pig was awarded one star, the same rank as Babbo, at that time the best Italian restaurant in the City. For chef Mario Batali who partly owns both restaurants, this was inconceivable. He said at the time, “[Michelin is] blowing it. They can’t put the Spotted Pig on the same level as Babbo.” Little did Batali know, Michelin was about to greatly expand the range of the one-star restaurant.

When Michelin Guide arrived in Tokyo, not only can casual restaurants receive a star, but even yakitori, ramen, tonkatsu joints have garnered one star. They have the same number of star as Maison Paul Bocuse in Daikanyama, Tokyo, a restaurant with a battalion of cooks in the kitchen and tuxedo-clad waiters in the dining room. In Hong Kong, the dim sum specialist Tim Ho Wan became the cheapest Michelin-starred restaurant. This was superseded later in Singapore when Liao Fan Hong Kong Soya Sauce Chicken Rice and Noodle received a star; forget tableware, the place doesn't even have a dining room. The signature dish chicken with rice costs less than US$2.

The need to separate restaurants into categories is understandable and perhaps necessary. Similar to the Academy Awards for Motion Pictures, the Oscars are awarded in different categories. It is not necessary to compare a short documentary with a feature film. Both can be great and both can have an award. Similarly there is no point in comparing restaurants across categories. But if one cannot compare restaurants across categories, how does Michelin determine if a restaurant is worth one star or not? The criteria for the one-star restaurant is too wide and random for the public to understand. If we simply accept Michelin's idea that any type of food establishment (including hawker stalls) can get a star, then surely there are more one-star restaurants in Taipei than Michelin has found.

Of the 20 restaurants with stars: six are Japanese, seven are Western, and seven are Chinese. The number of starred Western and Chinese restaurants seem disproportionate to the restaurant scene in Taipei. Compared to other cities with Michelin guides, Taipei is not a city with a strong western food scene.  Instead, Taipei has more varieties in Chinese food than others, including Hong Kong and Shanghai. The Chinese food culture is far more established than Western cuisine. Yet a visitor from abroad would not understand by looking at the list of starred restaurants in Taipei.

Michelin always seems to have a hard time judging Chinese restaurants. Part of the problem may be that the dining format of most Chinese restaurants simply don't suit the operation of Michelin inspectors. The majority of Chinese restaurants are not setup for single or two-person diners. Furthermore, most Chinese don't order tasting menus of little individual portions; most restaurants don't even offer a tasting menu. Instead, the typical Chinese diners share a variety of dishes that provide an overall balance and contrast of different ingredients, textures, and flavors.

Sometimes, I am simply puzzled by Michelin's choices for starred Chinese restaurants. This is especially pronounced for the starred Chinese restaurants outside of Greater China. For instance, currently there is only one Michelin-starred Chinese restaurant in New York City, Café China. The restaurant has maintained its one-star rating for several years. Last summer I purposely made a trip to try the restaurant. The food was a bit disappointing. There was very little refinement nor elegance. If Café China can earn one star, many restaurants in Taipei should certainly have one star as well.

The Director of Michelin Guide, Michael Ellis, says Taipei shouldn't feel there are too few starred restaurants (20), because the initial guide for Hong Kong only contains 22 starred restaurants. However, he fails to mention the discrepancy in the number of two-star restaurants. Hong Kong's first Guide contains seven two-star restaurants, while Taipei only has two: the Guest House and RyuGin. Close to one-third of the starred restaurants in Hong Kong has two stars. In contrast, the percentage in Taipei is just one-tenth. A comparison with the introductory Guide to Shanghai yields a similar discrepancy. Shanghai has a total of 26 starred restaurants, of which seven are awarded two stars. This is more than one-quarter of the total, also far more than Taipei.

The small number of restaurants in the two-star level is my biggest objection to the inaugural Michelin Guide for Taipei. Two restaurants in particular, Ya Ge at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon at Bellavita, deserve more than one star. They are both superior to the other restaurants in their categories.

Ya Ge and Three Coins are in the same category as both restaurants serve Cantonese food. Michelin awards both with one star and this is simply misguided. The food at Ya Ge is more refined than at Three Coins. Even without considering service and decor, Ya Ge is a superior restaurant. Furthermore, Ya Ge is on par with the two-star Cantonese restaurants in Hong Kong that I have visited.

The same problem exists in the French Contemporary category, where La Cocotte by Fabien Vergé and L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon both have one star. La Cocotte is a very good restaurant. Vergé and his wife surely deserve the one star. They have toiled for years doing things their own ways, and it is heartwarming to see their efforts recognized. Nevertheless, L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon is clearly the better of the two, starting from the bread all the way to the dessert and the wine list. Moreover, L'Atelier in Taipei is comparable to its two-star sister restaurant in Shanghai. Many of the dishes, such as the Beef Rossini and Caviar with Crab and Lobster Jelly, are the same.



Before Michelin launched the Guide for Taipei, I didn't think there was a three-star restaurant. But Michelin found one at Le Palais in Palais de Chine Hotel. The conspiracy theorist inside of me thinks it was imperative for Michelin to find a three-star restaurant in Taipei. The reason is Shanghai's first Michelin Guide has a three-star restaurant. It would be inconceivable for the Tourism Bureau of Taiwan to spend millions on commissioning Michelin to come to Taipei, only to tell the local taxpayers that the restaurants in Taipei (Taiwan) is not as good as the ones in Shanghai (China). Nevertheless, it takes two to tango. Michelin's desire or need to find a three-star restaurant still required a credible candidate.

Le Palais seemed to be clued into Michelin's intention and actively changed the restaurant to fit the bill. Le Palais opened in 2010 and was not a remarkable place. In fact, even less than a year ago the restaurant was not at the three-star level. But as Michelin was ramping up the operations in Taipei, Le Palais remade itself, starting in 2017, with luring chef Matt Chen 陳泰榮 away from Le Meridien Hotel to join forces with chef Ken Chen 陳偉強. The quality of the ingredients improved significantly. The hotel opened up the purse string and allowed the chefs to buy better ingredients. As chef Ken Chen said in an interview, as long as the owner is willing to spend money on ingredients, he can make good dishes. As such the dishes have also changed. For instance, the Shrimp Dumplings now have lobster as part of its filling, and are no longer served with the inelegant plastic syringes of red vinegar plunged through its center. More costly ingredients also mean higher prices. The dumplings used to be NT$280 a few months ago, now it is NT$360. The price of the Char Siu used to be NT$680 and is now NT$1480 and smaller in portion. After receiving the three stars, Le Palais pledged that it would not raise prices. This was a bit disingenuous since the restaurant had already increased the prices before Michelin's announcement. It was as if Le Palais anticipated the recognition.

When the Hong Kong Guide first launched, the then Director of Michelin Guide Jean-Luc Naret said the inspectors visited Lung Keen Heen in the Four Seasons Hotel 12 times before awarding the restaurant with three stars; the first Chinese restaurant to ever garnered that distinction. Did the inspectors for Taipei make that many trips to Le Palais? The current Director did not say. I have my doubts because if the inspectors went to Le Palais six months ago, they probably wouldn't have found a three-star restaurant.

I have not been to the new and improved Le Palais. I cannot say whether I agree with Michelin or not. I simply find Michelin's process of awarding three stars to Le Palais to be too casual. In France, Michelin puts chefs through the ringer before awarding them with three stars. When Alain Ducasse completely revamped the restaurant at Hotel Plaza Athénée in Paris, he was first downgraded to two stars before gaining back three stars. When Joël Robuchon opened the gastronomy restaurant in Bordeaux with his trusted chef de cuisine Tomonori Danzaki, who earned three stars in Tokyo and Las Vegas, he was awarded only two stars. When Marc Veyrat, who at one point had six Michelin stars total, started his comeback at La Maison des Bois, he had to settle with two stars. These superstar multi-three-star chefs must be amazed to know that a restaurant in Taipei can simply remake itself in a span of a few months and become a three-star restaurant.

Michelin works in mysterious ways. It doesn't reveal its process nor criteria. We will never understand how the inspectors arrive at their choices. Did the Tourism Bureau of Taiwan provide Michelin with a list of restaurants to start or exert any influences on behalf of any restaurants? We simply don't know. Maybe one day we will find out on Wikileaks. While we may question whether Michelin is reliable or relevant, the benefit of the Guide is very tangible. The restaurants awarded with stars and Bib Gourmand have all seen increases in their revenues. Good luck trying to make a reservation in the near future at the new three-star Le Palais. Not only has business at the restaurants picked up, the stock prices of the parent companies of the restaurants have all seen a bounce. The only restaurant that didn't benefit was La Cocotte by Fabien Vergé. Despite the recognition, Vergé and his wife have decided to close La Cocotte; Michelin came too late for them. Notwithstanding, Vergé is and will always be referred to as a Michelin-starred chef wherever he goes.

At the Michelin Gala dinner that followed the announcement of the starred restaurants, the Director of Michelin said the launch of the Michelin Guide is a very special day for the chefs. I wholeheartedly agree with him. Michelin has put a bright spotlight on the chefs of all the restaurants. This is especially important for the chefs in the Chinese restaurants. Prior to Michelin's arrival, most of the diners don't know and perhaps don't care who is cooking their food in the kitchen. None of these Chinese chefs cook in an open kitchen and are almost never seen by the guests. Stories about the chefs need to be written. While Michelin may not make 陳泰榮, 陳偉強, 林菊偉, 楊光宗, 謝文, and others into household names, they deserve more recognition than previously given. They are now part of the global network of chefs. I hope foreign, as well as local dinners, will seek them out. Instead of having Michelin-starred chefs come to Taipei to be guest chefs, perhaps we will soon see the Michelin-starred chefs of Taipei traveling abroad to showcase their talents and promote our food culture.

The arrival of the Michelin Guide to Taipei is a momentous event for the local food culture. For a city like Taipei that is without credible restaurant critics, sizable crowd-sourced websites, nor enough respect and appreciation for the people in the food industry, Michelin is a most welcomed addition. While Michelin will surely continue to confound us in the future, the Guide will drive the restaurants to improve and raise the public's awareness for restaurant professionals. If Taipei follows the pattern established by Michelin in other cities, the number of starred restaurants will only grow. And for the restaurants currently with one star or two stars, many will certainly look for ways to move up the rank. A few of them may even lose a star should the quality drops or if the chef leaves. The game of Michelin star has started and the Guide will be a positive force for the restaurant scene in Taipei.