The Presence of Absence: Dinner at the Residence with Michel Roux

The Chinese has a saying, "Monks who come from afar know the scriptures better (外來的和尚會念經)." Hotels and restaurants in Taiwan have fully embraced this idea. These days one cannot open the local newspapers without reading about a foreign chef coming to Taiwan to cook for a few days. Usually the invited chefs are decorated with Michelin stars. Maybe because Taiwan doesn't have a Michelin Red Guide, the residents here are eager to engage the jet-set star chefs. In this day and age, chefs are like rock stars and there is apparently no limit to their rise in popularity and status.

The best hotel in Taipei, Mandarin Oriental, has introduced a parade of guest chefs. Since last May the hotel has invited Yoshiaki Takazawa from Tokyo, Oliver Dabbous from London, Peter Gilmore from Sydney, Thierry Marx from Paris, and Bruno Menard from Singapore. Less than three months into this year, Mandarin has already been visited by Nicola Portinari from Lonigo, Italy, and Michel Roux from Bray, England. There seems to be a guest chef at Mandarin every other month.

The idea of inviting star chefs to Taipei to cook special dinners is not new. Back in 1998, the relatively new local hotel, Sherwood, invited Michelin three-star chef Alain Ducasse. In the following year, Sherwood invited the Michelin three-star Pourcel brothers. It was during that visit the young cook at the hotel, Andre Chiang, met the brothers and subsequently decided to leave home and go work for them in France. The rest, as the saying goes, is history (in the making). Without the fateful encounter with the brothers, Chiang's career would be completely different. Clearly, inviting foreign chefs to demonstrate their ideas and skills is a good thing for the local hospitality industry.

Overseas events are beneficial for the visiting chefs as well. They get to see new places and explore unfamiliar cuisines. Beside the financial reward for the events, they can promote their brands and develop new customer base for their ever expanding business. The trips are also a form of reward for the staff who travel with the chefs, a chance to expand their knowledge and experience.

However, can the same be said for the paying customers? What do customers get out of the experience with the guest chef besides a nice meal and a selfie? Meals with the guest chefs are usually more expensive than meals at their restaurants back home. For instance, at Peter Gilmore's Quay in Sidney, the tasting menu plus wine pairing is 340 Australian Dollar or around NT$8,300. When Gilmore was visiting the Mandarin Oriental in Taipei, the eight-course dinner with wine pairing was NT$16,500 ($15,000+10% service charge), almost double the price. The premium partly has to do with the extra cost of transportation and logistics. Some hotels and restaurateurs have stated in public that while the prices are high, the costs are also high. Let's just assume that people in the hospitality industry are all generous and would never gouge the customers. The customers are still paying a premium. The only justification is the premium is still cheaper than the airline tickets to fly to the chef's own restaurant. But can the guest chefs replicate their restaurants away from home for the customers? Does money buy the same experience of a Michelin three-star restaurant that's "worth a special journey" without the journey?

A few nights ago I was invited by my friends to a dinner with Michelin three-star chef Michel Roux at the Mandarin Oriental. Of all the guest chefs that Mandarin has invited so far, Roux is by far the most accomplished. In England, there is no bigger name than the Roux family. Michel Roux and his brother Albert established the standards for fine dining in England and many of the Michelin three-star chefs in London, Pierre Koffman, Marco Pierre White, and Gordon Ramsay, passed through their kitchen. Michel Roux's restaurant, The Waterside Inn, has maintained the unbroken status of Michelin three-star since 1985. The Waterside Inn is said to be the Queen of England's favorite restaurant, where she and her husband celebrated their birthdays. Besides the restaurant, Roux attained the coveted Meilleur Ouvrier de France (MOF) for patisserie in 1976. He also wrote a number of cookbooks, all of which aim to pass on his knowledge. Roux is simply a legend in the industry.

I have a cookbook by Roux in my library that I purchased more than ten years ago. I have watched Roux numerous times on Youtube, mostly to learn his techniques for pastry. While I have never been to the Waterside Inn nor met Roux, I feel a sense of familiarity. His baritone French accented English is especially memorable. Needless to say I was very eager to meet Roux and to taste his signature dishes.

The Roux dinner was held at the Chairman's Residence of Mandarin Oriental. The Residence may sound like a home with two main rooms called the Living Room and the Library, but it is essentially a private event space under the auspices of the owner of the hotel. The Residence is located on the seventh floor of the hotel. The doors of the elevators open to a rectangular foyer with bookshelves tastefully decorated with books and objects. The design of the interior is nicely done and I assume by Tony Chi, who also designed the other three restaurants at the hotel. Some of the design and decorative elements of the Residence are the same as the restaurants on the lower floors. For example, one of the walls at the sitting area consists of a grid of tilting mirrored planes, a design Chi used for the ceiling at Café Un Deux Trois on the fifth floor of the hotel. It is interesting to note that particular design idea was actually recycled from Chi's earlier project: the South Gate Restaurant in New York City.

For the Roux dinner both the Living Room and the Library were set up with 8-person square tables. The tables look nice except they are not weighted properly. If one pushes down on one corner the table has a tendency to tip a little. My table was in the Library which was more intimate but not necessarily in a good way. The room had two adjacent tables for two parties, but only one set of sitting area. Realistically the room only works well if there's a single party. Instead we shared the cozy space awkwardly with total strangers. I arrived early to an eerie empty room and took a seat on the sofa instead of the table. Seeing I'm alone, the sommelier kindly invited me to go visit the open kitchen on the other side of the floor. However, when I returned I had lost my seat at the sofa. The other party inside the room took over the entire sitting area. Someone even removed my personal belonging (Michel Roux book) from the coffee table to another table. I suppose this is no different from being on the subway at rush hour in New York City. If you stand up from your seat, don't expect to get it back, and make sure you take your belongings with you. Since the Residence doesn't have a dress code, there's nothing from preventing people from dressing sloppily. While one would think dinner with an elder Michelin three-star chef demands a little respect in terms of wardrobe, sadly not everyone thinks the same way; certainly not the people from the other party in our room.

The visual discomfort was further exacerbated by the LED TV screens on two of the four walls of the room. As we were eating, the TV showed the direct marketing material for dinner. Since I'm sold and present already, why do someone need to remind me that I am at a Michel Roux dinner? After finishing the first course I couldn't stand it anymore and asked the staff if the TV could be turned off. He acquiesced but only turned off the screen facing me but not the one behind me. The server just didn't get it or perhaps having the TV on is the standard operating procedure of the Residence. But who in their right minds at the hotel think the guests want to eat while looking at a still image on a bright TV screen? The atmosphere felt more like a high end karaoke room than a Michelin three-star dinner.

The Chairman's Residence feels strange in other ways. The atmosphere appears very exclusive and private, yet not quite enough. For instance the private rooms of Ya Ge, the Chinese restaurant three flights down, have private bathroom inside. At the Chairman's Residence, the public bathroom is on the other side of the floor. The walk from my room is long enough to feel that one is at another restaurant. The way to the bathroom passes through the open kitchen, which is similar in design to the kitchen at Bencotto (Italian restaurant one floor below) but at a smaller scale. At the front there's a stone countertop with large rectangular lampshade above. But unlike the light fixture at Bencotto, the one at the Residence is without a glass enclosure, which actually makes it less opulent. The kitchen of the Residence is confined to a separate small space with no direct visual connections to the diners' tables. If diners cannot see the cooks preparing the food, why have an open kitchen at all?

When I walked by the front of the kitchen, the cooks were busy preparing the canapés. All of them were superb. I was particularly happy to see the anchovy straws because I've seen the recipe for them in the book that I own. The sommelier poured each of us a glass of Ruinart champagne and we were off to a great start.

The first course was a duo of ceviches with salmon and tuna marinated in olive oil and yuzu juice. Also on the plate was a slightly spicy guacamole with chips and lamb's lettuce. I like to start a meal with some raw fish that's light but flavorful. Paired with a glass of 2012 Riesling Heissenberg from Domaine Ostertag, this was a nice dish.

The second course was a warm escalope of foie gras with a slice of caramelized orange. The foie was cooked perfectly and simply delicious. The fruit and the fried capers provided a nice balance to the flavors. The wine pairing was a classic one with Sauternes, in this instance from Château Suduiraut 2008. I would have preferred a wine that's less sweet but it was fine.

The third course was a piece of sautéed scallop with slices of octopus. A touch of coriander provided an elegant flavor profile. The use of the tamarind sauce and the coconut emulsion gave the dish a south Asian twist that was refreshing. The wine selected to go with the dish was a 2012 Burgundy produced by Louis Jadot from the Chassangne Montrachet appellation.

The fourth course was Roux's signature dish, pan fried lobster with white port sauce and ginger flavored vegetable julienne. I was fascinated by this dish because, besides the port sauce, the technique and the use of ginger seem to have some affinities with Chinese cooking. As the waiter placed the dish on the table, it looked beautiful with the different shades of red. The lobster was cooked a little more than I preferred but it was still very good. The sauce was simply divine. The ginger provided a little heat that was just great. A glass from Domaine de Chevalier Blanc from 2012 was poured to accompany the dish.

For the final savory course there was a choice between beef tournedos Zingara style or roasted local duck with fondant potatoes. I asked our server what is Zingara style and he didn't know. I suppose we should have just googled the word together. Since no one seems to know, I chose the duck. The duck was first presented whole on a platter and then expertly carved tableside by Roux's manager. Each plate has a few thin slices of duck breast, a piece of the skin, braised baby fennel, and potato fondant. This was served with a wonderful truffle jus. The breast was tender and the skin with a little fat underneath was especially flavorful. The wine was a glass of Le Clos Saint Jacques 2008 from Louis Jadot. This was a great way to end the savory part of the dinner. The only downside was six of our party ordered the duck and there was only one person carving the two ducks. Hence, four of us were served first instead of everyone together. I also find it strange that Roux decided to serve the duck on plates with Restaurant Ya Ge's name on them. Why not use a more neutral plate? It felt like the Residence ran out of plates and had to borrow from the restaurant three-flights below. At the Waterside Inn I don't believe they would use plates with the name "Fat Duck" emblazoned on them. Even more bizarre was Roux would use the same Ya Ge plate for the dessert later on.

After a short break Roux came to our room with the pre-dessert, coffee creme brûlée. Roux explained that they roasted the coffee beans themselves and then infused the milk with the grounded powder. The flavor was very elegant and I thoroughly enjoyed this simple concoction. The dessert was paired with 1998 Gewurztraminer Selection de Grains Nobles from Hugel & Fils.

The last course was a yogurt dessert with raspberry and lime marshmallow and yogurt ice cream. This was the biggest disappointment of the night. Of all the desserts in the repertoire, I don't understand why Roux decided to serve this one. While he was in our room he actually said he couldn't serve the soufflé but he didn't explain why. It's probably not hard to guess. The soufflé is cooked a la minute and less predictable. The yogurt dessert can be made ahead of time and is easy to do. I had hopes of eating his famous raspberry soufflé, the favorite of the Queen of England. I'm not a royalty but my friends were spending a king's ransom on this meal. Moreover, Roux served soufflé as the dessert when he was a guest chef at the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok and the Four Seasons in Hong Kong. So why not let the people in Taipei have soufflé as well?

In Roux's guest appearances elsewhere, he always served different desserts for lunch and dinner. Part of the reason was lunch was usually much cheaper and a little simpler. In Taipei, the lunch was half the price of dinner. But, inexplicably the desserts for both lunch and dinner were essentially the same. At lunch the yogurt dessert was served together with the creme brûlée as a set on a rectangular plate. At dinner the two were served sequentially with perhaps a slightly bigger portion.

I respect Roux's decision for not making a soufflé, but I would have preferred to see more effort put into making different desserts for dinner. For instance, since all the tables at dinner were parties of eight, why not make some large format desserts that could be cut table side? Better yet, why not go old-school and make an omelette à la norvégienne and flambé it table side. If it was another chef, perhaps my disappointment wouldn't be as great. But Roux is a pastry MOF and dessert is a major part of the meal at his Waterside Inn.

Besides the choice of dessert, my disappointment was extended to the appearance of the dish. When the server placed the dessert in front of me, the ice cream had slipped off from the setting. I surmised someone forgot to put a piece of cookie under the ice cream. The server didn't notice the error, and I didn't want to cause a fuss by sending it back. The pistachio marshmallow was also placed slightly off the center of the cookie. The dessert was just a plate of sloppiness. I can't imagine that Roux would ever allow this to happen at his restaurant back home.

At Roux's Waterside Inn, meals would end with a dazzling array of mignardises: palmier, custard tart, canelé, nougat, madeleine, and chocolate. In Taipei, Roux simply didn't bother with making the mignardises and just served ready-made chocolates and treats from the hotel's Cake Shop on the ground floor. The dinner started so nicely with the wonderful canapés, yet ended in a dissatisfying manner.

At the beginning of the dinner, Roux came to our room to introduce himself. He said for this dinner he brought four senior people from the Waterside Inn and assured us that it was the A team. Instead of being assured, I actually thought it was a bit strange. With the cost of the dinner being much higher than at the Waterside Inn, I expected nothing less. I didn't doubt Roux's word. In fact, in my brief encounter with Roux's manager I can attest that he was top notch – professional yet relaxed and warm. Perhaps Roux brought his A-team but did he bring his A-game? For the savory dishes, yes, but for the dessert, it was a resounding no. 

Besides the dessert the night was also slightly marred by the service. For instance, the server laid down the utensils for the last savory course very early on; it was just strange. As the night progressed, whenever a new dish was served the server would lay down another set of knife and fork outside of them. In other words for several courses I had two sets of utensils. In another instance, I asked for an espresso and was instead served a double espresso with no crema on top. Finally, at the end of the night the server laid down the plate of mignardises, but he mysteriously didn't explain the flavors of the chocolates. Perhaps it was meant as a test? Was one of them whiskey? These were perhaps minor infractions but I am sure they wouldn't meet the exacting standards of a Michelin three-star restaurant.

From the onset it was obvious that a Michel Roux dinner at the Mandarin Oriental would be very different from the one at his Waterside Inn. Sitting in an enclosed private dining room with a party of strangers was never going to be the same as enjoying the view of River Thames. Setting aside the physical constraints, I still had hopes that Roux and Mandarin Oriental would deliver a Michelin three-star experience. Sadly, this did not happen. In one of Roux's visits to our room during dinner, he talked about the idea of perfection as a goal and the impossibility of reaching it. I heard this idea expressed by other Michelin three-star chefs. I just didn't realize on this night, perfection was that far away.

Instead of a Michelin three-star dinner, I felt like I was participating in a promotional event under the watchful eyes of Mandarin's marketing team. Roux now carries the title of the Global Ambassador of the Waterside Inn. This event was certainly a promotion of the Roux brand. The dinner was interspersed with several talks by Michel Roux with a translator. Not once did Roux nor anyone else asked how we like the food or how we were enjoying the night. I supposed everyone just assumed we would be in awe. Besides the aforementioned promotional material on the TV screen, the console table in our room was lined with cookbooks written by Roux. At one point, Roux and a staff of the hotel made a soft sell of Roux's cookbooks. I didn't buy a book because I brought my own; Roux gladly signed the book after dinner. My friends had their pictures taken with the chef. During the dinner we all took enough photographs of the food to fill a weekend worth of our Instagram feed – proof of our presence at the event.

But what exactly did we experience? Michel Roux is one of the world's greatest living chefs and Mandarin Oriental is the best hotel in town, yet even they delivered a weak facsimile of a Michelin three-star meal. I have come to the realization that events with guest chefs are simply not worth the significant premium over the prices at the chef's restaurant at home; paying more but getting less. The irony is if one travels to the Waterside Inn to eat, one actually might not see Michel Roux. He lives in Switzerland and is only in England less than three months a year. His son Alain and his long time maitre d'hotel run the three-star restaurant. It is actually rare to see Roux running the kitchen, but he can't replicate his restaurant elsewhere. As Roux said at the dinner, he relies on a team to produce his best work. Unfortunately most members of the team are back home. In Taipei, he didn't do his best work. Roux may be present himself but we only saw the shadow of the Waterside Inn. 

Michelin defines a three-star restaurant as "exceptional cuisine, worth a special journey." To experience the real thing, one needs to leave home and visit the chef's restaurant. The customers and the chef cannot both be the guests at the same time. The journey to visit the chef might be far and costly in terms of time and money, yet there are no short cuts. As the Chinese proverb says, "True scripture is hard to find (真經難取)."

The Sweet Side Awakens

"Hi, I am Julien Perrinet and I am the pastry chef at the Grand Hyatt Taipei." Last October, by chance I found myself sitting next to the friendly French chef at the counter of L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon Taipei during dinner. As Perrinet introduced himself, I thought to myself: Grand Hyatt? The only times I step into the Hyatt are for weddings or the annual Ivy Ball. The food at these events are at best harmless. Besides the tickets to the Ivy Ball (not really Ivy nor a Ball), it has been years, perhaps decades, since I spent any hard earned money in the Hyatt.

To be fair, people often forget that the Grand Hyatt is the first large international hotel in Taipei. When the hotel opened over twenty-five years ago, it represented the standard of excellence in the city. Not only was the Hyatt the place to go for a fancy meal or event, it was also the premier training ground for the people in the hospitality industry. For instance, across the counter at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon where I sat, many senior managers had stints at the Grand Hyatt. However, in recent years the Hyatt seems to have fallen off the radar. The hotel is still grand but there doesn't seem to be any excitement that warrants a visit.

"I moved from Singapore to Taipei in May. I was part of the Robuchon team when the restaurants in Singapore opened." This explains why Perrinet was friendly with the visiting Robuchon team. As our dinner in October progressed, I asked Perrinet whether he would make any special pastries for the upcoming Christmas holidays. The question was answered with series of resounding yeses: Bûche de Noël? Yes; Galette des Rois? Yes. With the féve? Yes, of course.

The questions probably struck Perrinet as strange since he wouldn't think otherwise. I asked because Christmas is not an official holiday in Taiwan and there isn't a strong sense of the Christmas spirit in Taipei. Some of the good pastry shops in town, such as Sweet Tea by Yannick Alleno at Taipei 101, don't make any holiday items anymore. As I departed from the L'Atelier after another lovely meal, I told Perrinet that I would visit him at the Hyatt when the holiday arrives.

"I considered several places before deciding to join the Grand Hyatt. The hotel gives me a lot of responsibilities and I also have a pastry shop in the lobby to play with." Since around March of 2015, the hotel replaced its souvenir shop on the ground floor with a pastry shop/bakery called the Baguette. I wonder if this new shop is a response to Mandarin Oriental's Cake Shop on the other side of town.

The choice of "Baguette" as the name for the shop is very odd since the French bread is just one of the many items for sale. The name suggests the importance of the bakery. Hence at my first visit to the shop I bought a croissant to try. The croissant was not good at all. The shell was not crisp nor brittle and didn't shatter when one bit into it – a real disappointment. In a subsequent visit I asked the salesperson if Perrinet was in charge of the Viennoiseries, and she said no. The bakery and the pastry are produced by two different departments. Furthermore, the main attraction of the shop seems to be Perrinet's creations in the glass display case, which are the first things one sees.

"We have four kinds of Bûche de Noël for you to choose from." The salesperson at the Baguette responded when I called to ask and order the Christmas log cake in December. While other shops made one signature Bûche de Noël, Perrinet made Mosaic (chocolate praliné), Firework (pineapple-coco), Red Noël (raspberry litchee rose), and Chestnut (with pear and cinnamon). Over the phone I asked for the Red Noël and was told I had to pay first. Taken aback, I said, "you don't trust that I will pick up the cake later today? You have my name and mobile number and that's not enough?" In response, she said, "There were a few instances where customers ordered and didn't show up. The cakes are perishable and we need preorder to be prepaid by fax." I can't help but think the Cake Shop at the Mandarin Oriental doesn't ask me to prepay. Annoyed, I almost hung up the phone. Perhaps she sensed my unhappiness, and said I don't have to prepay if I pick up the cake within the next three hours.

The weather in last December didn't feel like winter at all, and as usual there weren't too many Christmas decorations around town. But as I walked inside the Hyatt to pick up the Christmas cake, I saw the Baguette was decked out in probably the most impressive gingerbread house in Taipei. With four types of Bûche de Noël, multiple Christmas themed pastries, and a gingerbread house big enough to walk through, Perrinet may be the most enthusiastic pastry chef in Taipei. Perrinet is also a very skilled pastry chef. The Red Noël cake was large and attractive – well suited for a party. The taste was very good, with the sweetness balanced by a bit of acidity from the fruits.

"Did you order the Galette des Rois?" My kids knew that I always buy one for the Epiphany; I don't know the verses in Matthew 2:11 well, but I know pithivier. They were also eager to try their luck again to see if they can add another fève to their collection. Maybe because I'm not a believer, in the years that I bought the Galette, I have never gotten the fève and the chance to wear the crown. 

The Galette des Rois at the Grand Hyatt was made with Isigny butter. The 7-inch version was NT$520 plus $100 for the porcelain fève. The price seemed very reasonable. I love puff pastry and frangipane thus the Galette des Rois is one of my favorite things to eat. Perrinet made the Galette with care and in the traditional manner. It was just delicious. Our family quickly devoured the cake. Similar to previous years, I didn't get the piece with the fève inside. My Catholic wife was the queen this year; as Psalm 37:18 states: The Lord takes care of those who obey him.

"The Canelé at the Hyatt was one of the reasons that I decided to join the hotel. During my job interview I saw that they made the Canelé in the traditional manner with the beeswax and copper mold. I knew there was a good foundation to build upon." Perrinet told me during our dinner last October. Indeed, the Canelé at the Hyatt is very good with a crunchy and well caramelized exterior with a chewy and soft interior. At NT$50 the large Canelé is a very nice treat. 

Perrinet changes the contents in the glass display case frequently in response to the seasons. Since strawberry is in season now he has made a few new pastries. They are not only good to eat but will surely bring a smile to anyone who sees them.

There has been an awakening in the sweet side of the Grand Hyatt. Anyone who visits the shop at the hotel lobby will definitely feel it. I love Perrinet's enthusiasm and passion, and I hope they won't diminish as he familiarizes with the local customers. I am eager to see how Perrinet's creation will evolve as he spends more time in Taipei. Furthermore, will the rise of the sweet side lead to a renewal of the bakery? Will the Grand Hyatt return to the forefront of the dining scene in Taipei? Hopefully more episodes await. 

Caramelized Mango with Rum

The season for mango is coming to an end in Taiwan. Some of the mangos on the market are no longer so great to eat. Recently we found ourselves with a few average tasting mangos. Instead of enjoying them raw, I decided to broil them and make a dessert.

The recipe I used was from the three-Michelin-star chef Eric Ripert. A few years ago, Ripert did a series of videos to show how one can use a toaster oven to make meals for the family. One of them was Caramelized Mango with Rum.

The recipe is quite simple. Prepare the roasting tray by covering it with aluminum foil and brushing it with soft butter. Peel the mango and slice the ends off. Dice the end pieces of mango. Cut the rest of the mango into slices, place them on the tray, and brush with more soft butter. Dust the mango with some brown sugar and place the tray under the broiler in the toaster oven for 5 minutes. Drizzle the mangos with some rum and top with diced fresh mango. Plate and serve with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

ACHOI

"Have you been to ACHOI?" In the past few months, this was the question I posed to my relatives and friends. If their answer was no, I would immediately encourage them to go. The reason is simple: ACHOI is this year's best new western restaurant in Taipei.

On the surface, Taipei seems to have a vibrant western dining scene with new restaurants opening up monthly at every corner. This is perhaps due to the Taiwanese spirit of wanting to be the boss, the low barrier to entry, and the media's constant need for fresh faces. Unfortunately, most of the new restaurants are simply not worth their salt. They are usually owned and operated by young cooks and restaurateurs who simply don't have enough experience in operating restaurants; graduating from a cooking school or cooking at a three-Michelin-star restaurant for a year or two does not make one a good chef. While a discerning diner can choose to ignore them, they are like noises and pollution that fill the mediascape thus diverting attention from the few that are truly doing good work.

Hong Kong native Lam Ming Kin is the chef of ACHOI. He has worked in the three-Michelin-star Jean Georges Vongerichten's group for over ten years. Just prior to coming to Taipei, Lam was the chef de cuisine at Jean Georges Shanghai. He comes with a wealth of worldly experience, which is very rare for a chef in a new restaurant in Taipei. Lam's new venture is backed by the Ambassador Hotel Group.

ACHOI is located on the ground floor of the Group's new mid-priced hotel amba Zhongshan. Setback from the tree-lined Zhongshan North Road by the building's arcade, ACHOI is enclosed in floor-to-ceiling glass on two sides. While the restaurant has its own glass door entrance, it is not obvious; usually I enter through the adjacent hotel front door. During the day time, the restaurant takes full advantage of the glass exterior and makes the trees on Zhongshan Road and the plantings along the small side street be part of the interior. During lunch time, the space is very pleasant with indirect daylight coming through the glass walls. With views beyond the space, the dining room seems larger than it really is. Unfortunately, at night the glass exterior impairs the ambiance of the interior. As the outside gets dark, one sees less of the trees and more of the bright street lights, plus the uncontrolled reflections from the interior lighting. The biggest annoyance to the diners at night is with the bright headlights coming from cars traveling down the side alley. ACHOI should learn from the design of Jean Georges Restaurant in New York City and install some shear curtains at the windows. This will reduce the effect from the outside, refocus the diners' attention to the inside, and help improve the acoustics of the space.

With the clear glass exterior, the designer smartly kept the ceiling and the walls simply in white, including the tiles in the open kitchen. On the other hand, the floor is a little complicated with two types of finishes. Most of the area are finished with beige-colored large tiles. However, one area is inexplicably done with wood in herringbone pattern. I wish the whole floor is done in wood which would conceptually bring the exterior landscape into interior. With the hardwood floor, sheet rock ceiling, glass exterior wall, and no tablecloth, every surface is hard and does not absorb sound. Therefore, the noise level in the restaurant is well above the comfort level.

There are less than twenty tables and a counter, yet there are four types of surfaces for the tabletop: wood for the rectangular tables near the banquettes, marble for the circular tables near the window, tile for communal table, and synthetic stone for the counter by the open kitchen. Since the restaurant does not use any placemats, the different materials for the table are even more pronounced; as if a restaurant uses four different color tablecloths at the same time. This is overly complicated. Moreover, the tile surface of the communal table is too rustic, as eating and looking at the grout between the tiles is unpleasant. The synthetic stone for the kitchen counter is too simple and feels more like a home kitchen than a restaurant. Another design flaw with the counter is the height: instead of using a normal bar height of around 90cm, it is set at a normal table height of 70cm. The problem is the customers end up always looking uncomfortably up at the cooks inside the open kitchen. It is understandable if the designer is simply against sitting on bar stool in a restaurant or has the desire to make every seat wheelchair friendly. However, the long communal table adjacent to the wine refrigerator is set at a normal bar height. Usually I like to sit at the counter and see the food being prepared. Sadly, the design of counter seats at ACHOI discourages me from doing so.

Besides the tables, the design of the other parts of the restaurant is also fussy. In the middle of the dining room are back-to-back banquettes built with wood. The backs of the banquettes have cushions of varying geometrical shapes and different color shades of grey which seem unnecessarily complicated. There are also a variety of light fixtures at different heights that seem to have little to do with the tables below. A lot of efforts are spent adding varieties into a space that doesn't really need it. This is similar to the extra ingredients on a plate of food that only complicates the appearance but has no real intrinsic value to add.

Since I am an architect, I am more sensitive to the design of the space than most people. I get bothered by little things that other people simply do not notice. For example, I don't know why the restaurant has a cash register with a vertical display sticking above the counter like at a supermarket. The space, ambiance, and furnishings of the restaurant have a major impact on the dining experience. Conceptually this is not any different from the importance of the tableware. In theory, the food is just what's on the plate. However, a serious chef will not serve the food on paper plates, nor will a sommelier serve the wine in plastic cups. Therefore, why should the restaurant serve food and wine in a cluttered and noisy space?

I don't know how much input Lam had in the design of the room but he seems to have the free rein to devise the menu with his partner Amy Chen. After all, the most important part of a restaurant is still the food. So far I had three meals at ACHOI and enjoyed most of the dishes.

Prior to dining at ACHOI I expected Lam's food to be in the similar vein as his old boss Jean Georges Vongerichten: the pairing of Asian flavors and ingredients with French techniques and traditions. Since I love Vongerichten's food, I had high expectations for Lam. The first time I was at ACHOI I sat at the counter and saw the kitchen prepare a special uni on toast with yuzu and black truffle. I couldn't help but remarked to Lam that the dish reminded me of the uni on toast served at Jean Georges in New York City. Lam smiled gently and replied, it is similar but he does it differently. Indeed, while there are hints of Vongericten's style, Lam is certainly expressing his own views. In comparison to Vongerichten, in a very general sense, I find Lam's food to be less acidic and doesn't have as much of a spicy kick. Nevertheless, many aspects of Vongerichten's food that I am very fond of can also be seen in Lam's cuisine.

Lam's food is a fusion of east and west. Because of Lam's experience, fusion is not confusion, rather it offers novel ways to look at the classic recipes. On the menu is a reinterpretation of the classic Salade Lyonnaise. Typically the salad is made with frisée and pan fried lardons topped with a poached egg. In a reference to Chinese cooking, Lam uses braised pork belly instead. Furthermore, he adds some locally grown baby swiss chard to the mix, which provides a little sweetness to the more bitter frisée. For the sautéed foie gras, just as Vongerichten made the novel pairing of foie gras with mango long time ago, Lam does it with coconut and lychee. The foie gras was cooked perfectly and the contrast with the Asian fruit was wonderful.

Besides the Asian elements, Lam allows local Taiwanese flavors to be part of his food as well. When he got to Taipei he noticed at the night markets that the locals like to eat fried chicken in one stall and cold noodles at another. So he thought why not make his version and serve them together. The result is a lightly battered but crusty chicken which was very tender and juicy: just delicious. The cold house-made spaghetti has the right texture and is lightly tossed with a sesame dressing. Not only do I like the dish very much, my daughters talked about the fried chicken for a few days after their meal as well.

Lam takes the local influences one step further by doing his version of the Three-Cup dish. Normally done with chicken in Taiwan, Lam uses abalone instead. The abalone is cooked sous vide and has a very tender texture. The Thai basil pesto adds a nice floral kick.

Lam's food is light but flavorful. In Taipei, people tend to want to eat "light" but often times the restaurants and diners confuse light with bland. While it is important to let the original tastes of the ingredients show through, it is equally important to enhance, elevate, and balance the flavors. For the honeydew melon gazpacho, Lam balances the sweetness of the fruit by adding some salty French Bayonne ham and lifts the coolness of the dish with slices of mint – just a very fresh tasting dish that is well suited to the hot weather outside.

The shrimp sliders are slathered with a sriracha and citrus mayo that is light but extremely flavorful. The sesame bun added an extra fragrance to the dish. I gulped down the two sliders in minutes.

The fillet of snapper is seasoned nicely and cooked perfectly, first sous vide and then the skin is crisped in the pan. The sauce is a sabayon that has just enough acidity to lighten up the dish. The chayote shoots provide a slightly crunchy texture which contrasts well with the flaky fish.

Lam's cooking is simple but complex. Simple in the sense that the dishes do not have superfluous items and the diners get the essential flavors. Like any good chef, a lot of effort goes into sourcing the ingredients. With good ingredients, the key is not to overcomplicate the cooking. When Lam talks about the good ingredients he is able to find, you can visibly see his excitement, like the shrimp he gets daily or the locally grown fig.

The shrimps are cooked lightly and served with a yuzu mayonnaise and a dusting of house-made spice mix. The dish looks simple and clear, yet the flavors are complex and delicious.

The fig sits on house made ricotta and is topped with a little port and lemon juice. Again, simply made and just a delight.

Based on my three meals at ACHOI, I have very little to complain about the food. There are only a couple of dishes that I thought was just good but not great. For the duck breast, Lam's presentation seems to refer to the Peking Duck. The dollops of dark sauce are made with cherry, and a stalk of tuberose in lieu of scallion. While the duck is cooked well, I prefer the meat to be a bit more rare and bloody. While Lam cooks some of the seafood dishes sous vide, he prefers to cook the meat in the traditional method. It is interesting to note that at Angelo Aglianò Restaurant, it is just the reverse: some meats are cooked sous vide while the fish are always cooked in the traditional manner. I understand Lam's preference and reasoning, and agree that some meats are better cooked in the traditional manner; Lam's Iberico pork chop was just grilled and it was juicy and delectable. But with the duck breast, I prefer the method that Robuchon uses: sear, sous vide at 60 degrees Celsius, and sear again before serving.

The other dish that I thought was just okay is the grilled beef sirloin wrapped with betel nut leaves, and served with mango, peanut, cherry tomatoes, and fish sauce dressing. The vegetables are fresh and the sauce has just the right amount of acidity. The beef is cooked well, but doesn't seem as flavorful as it can be.

ACHOI has a very nice dessert menu, all of which are priced at NT$220. Many of them are variations on the classics, some with Asian inflections. I am particularly fond of the Peach Melba, a classic from the late 19th century. Lam serves his version as a trifle with granite on the top. The chocolate mouse with mint sorbet is also wonderful.

The only dessert that doesn't quite work is the praline ravioli with chilled citrus soup and lemon sorbet. The sorbet and the soups are great, fresh with a nice sweetness and hints of acidity. The colors in the bowl are vibrant and beautiful. However, the chilled wonton wrapper with the praline inside was just a bit dense. It was probably the most interesting dessert on the menu, yet the one I liked the least.

Most of the people I know who have been to ACHOI agree with me that the quality of the food is high, but many of them feel the price is high as well. While I share their sentiments that ACHOI is not cheap, the restaurant is certainly not price gouging either. ACHOI has a 3-course set lunch menu for NT$680 and 4-course set lunch for $780, which includes coffee or tea. This seems very reasonable. Unfortunately, this is only served from Tuesday to Friday (the restaurant is closed on Monday). Given ACHOI is located far from my office, I probably will never get to try the set lunch. All three times that I was at ACHOI I ordered à la carte. The soups are priced around NT$220, the vegetable dishes are around NT$300, and the poultry and meat dishes range from around NT$400 to NT$800. While the dishes are all in tasting menu portions, given the quality of the ingredients, the prices seem fair. My problem with the pricing at ACHOI is not with the individual dishes, but the overall experience. A proper meal at ACHOI requires four courses, which will end up costing around NT$1,600 to NT$2,000, not including drinks. For this price, I expect the restaurant will serve some bread instead of having to order it like a course at NT$140. I realize everything has a price, but I prefer the restaurant pads the prices of the dishes instead of charging for bread. I also expect the restaurant will serve some mignardises with the NT$180 coffee or tea. Since there is an amuse bouche to start the meal, how about something to end the meal as well? Why not serve some marshmallows like at Jean Georges in New York; potato starch, sugar, and egg white will not dent the profit by much. For the price I am paying, I expect a bit more illusion of generosity.

The food at ACHOI is served to be shared – the dishes do not come at once and are placed in the middle of the table. Each diner has an empty plate to eat the food. I dislike this format. First, the portion of the dishes are small, therefore, any form of sharing allows for only a couple of bites of the food. For instance I don't see how a party of four can share the two pieces of toast with uni in a satisfying manner. Second, when I order à la carte, I like to plan out the sequence of the dishes to not repeat certain types of ingredients or flavors. The sharing of the dishes disrupt any form of progression. Third, when the dishes don't come at once, some of the diners simply end up waiting for a long time and stare at their companions eating. At my third meal at ACHOI I had to tell the server to bring all the diner's dishes at the same time.

ACHOI uses a wine refrigerator by EuroCave that allows the customers to order wine by the glass, half glass, or just a small taste. Since people in Taipei don't drink as much as people in Europe and the U.S., the wine program should encourage people to order some wine with the food. Also, in theory, the sommelier will be able to pair a wine to each course. Sadly in practice it doesn't quite work. In my three meals I was offered very little advice on wine. ACHOI's wines are marked up around 3 times the U.S. retail prices or 1.6 times the Taiwan retail prices. For example, a bottle of Trimbach Gewurztraminer retails for around NT$650 in New York and NT$1,250 in Taipei (the wine prices in Taiwan are ridiculous but that's a separate story), and ACHOI sells the bottle for NT$2,000. These prices are not unreasonable. However, I want a bit more service from the sommelier. At one of my dinners, instead of ordering different glasses of wine I ordered a bottle. After the sommelier poured the initial glass of wine, all the subsequent refills were done by myself. I also want a wider selection of wines with more expensive and interesting choices. For instance, it will be nice to have more than three sparkling wines to choose from. I wonder why ACHOI cannot utilize its sister restaurant A-Cut's more extensive wine inventory in the Ambassador Hotel. Furthermore, I find it very strange that ACHOI's wine list does not display the vintage of the wines. I realize selling wine in a restaurant in Taipei is difficult, but ACHOI cannot be this casual about their wine program.

While I have misgivings about some aspects of ACHOI, they can be improved upon should the restaurant choose to. In terms of just the food on the plate, I am very delighted with Lam's arrival in Taipei. The city finally has a restaurant that does fusion in a convincing manner. Lam's experience and knowledge in cooking allow him to play with traditional recipes and familiar tastes; one has to know the rules to break the rules. Another difference between a seasoned chef and a young chef is the confidence in their abilities. Young chefs, especially in Taipei, have a tendency to use too many ingredients in a dish, thus making the food more complicated than it needs to be. They fail to understand the difference between complicated and complex. Moreover, the young chefs tend to first cook for themselves and to impress their peers, rather than for the guests. In contrast, Lam's food at first glance seems simple and one can identify the ingredients and the flavors. Yet, the flavors are complex. Not only is there a nice after taste, some dishes make one ponder about them in the days after.

In a few brief conversations I had with Lam, he strikes me as a very affable person. There is a sense of fun and playfulness in his cooking. He is also confident and eager to look for new ideas. As the seasons change and as Lam starts to discover more local ingredients and customs, I am sure his cooking and ideas will evolve. In turn I am happy to keep going back to ACHOI for more.

The Cake Shop at Mandarin Oriental Taipei

Whenever I go to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Taipei, I like to stop by the Cake Shop located on the ground floor of the inner part of the retail courtyard. Similar to other parts of the hotel, the shop can be entered from more than one place. The best and most direct way is through the front door from the courtyard. Upon entering the shop one immediately sees the cakes and pastries displayed in vitrines set on a large white stone counter. To the left of the entrance are freshly baked bread and Viennoiseries. To the right, are chocolates and the wonderful macarons. The back walls behind the display counters are shelves for the various packaging materials. I just love the colors of the boxes, ribbons, and the way they are composed on the wall.

Outside to the right of the shop is a small area with tables and chairs for customers to eat and be served. But I really dislike this space because it feels like one is sitting in a large corridor. In contrast to the shop, there is no ambiance and it is not really designed in any thoughtful manner. Therefore I always buy the various items to go. In fact, the Cake Shop has become the place I like to go to buy birthday cakes for other people. Not only are the cakes delicious and beautiful, the packaging is just delightful.

The box for the cake is a tall round cylinder with studs at the bottom to be secured with strings. This makes a serious impression on anyone.

Given that everything in the Cake Shop is fancy, one would think the prices would be exorbitant. In fact, the prices in the Cake Shop are comparable to other lesser pastries shops in town. Some of the items are actually cheaper.

A few months back I purchased a beautiful and delicious 7-inch strawberry tart for NT$1,000.

I only hope the Cake Shop will be able to maintain the standards as time goes on. I wish it will not be like Sweet Tea by Yannick Alleno on the fourth floor of Taipei 101, where when it opened the pastries were in boxes with magnetic latches, the tarts were in beautiful rectangular boxes that slid open, and there were special items like Galette des Rois during the holidays. But now to save costs there are only paper-like boxes, the tarts are circular, and the Galette is only available at the sister store Lalos.  I worry about the Cake Shop because the sous chef Alexis Bouillet has left, and his boss, the chocolate master Frank Haasnoot, is also rumored to be on the way out. Will the Cake Shop remain as good as it is or get even better? I certainly hope so. I am a fan.

Sacrificial Lamb

The traditional food eaten at Easter is lamb. I am not a Christian, but I am happy to observe food related customs. The traditional way of cooking a rack of lamb is to sear it first on the stove top and then finish the cooking in a hot oven. Instead, I prefer to cook the lamb in a more modern manner, namely sous vide. I use the recipe by the British chef Heston Blumenthal, which consists essentially of four parts. First, place the rack of lamb with some olive oil and herbs in a plastic bag, seal, and cook in 60 degree Celsius water for one hour.

Second, lift the bag out of the water bath, discard the herbs, remove the rack from the bag, and pat dry. Third, season the lamb and pan-fry the lamb on all sides with some olive oil. Traditionally one is taught to leave the protein on the hot pan and just flip it once. However, I do the opposite and flip the lamb every 20 seconds or so. Frequent flipping actually allows one to brown the meat quicker and more evenly. Fourth, remove the rack from the pan, rest, coat with tapenade, slice, and serve.

While I personally don't associate lamb with being a sacrificial agent, nevertheless, the lamb was killed for my lunch. I hope I cooked it with the respect it deserves.

Café Un Deux Trois at Mandarin Oriental

Mandarin Oriental Hotel opened in May of last year in Taipei. Looking back now it is hard to imagine the hype that surrounded the opening. Everyone seemed to want to be the first to experience the hotel. Needless to say, the local bloggers and the press were all promoting the hotel like mad. Yet, it was interesting to note that in terms of the food at the hotel, all the focus was on the Michelin-starred chef at Bencotto (Italian restaurant) and the World Chocolate Master, Frank Haasnoot at the Cake Shop. There was no mention of the chef for Coco, the French restaurant at the hotel. The coverage of Coco was all about the design and its New York based designer Tony Chi. People knew more about the rhinoceros on the wall of the restaurant than who was in charge of the kitchen. This was a clue that something was amiss in the restaurant.

The reason that the chef at Coco was not publicized at all was he left Mandarin Oriental Taipei shortly after the opening. Therefore, for several months in 2014, there wasn't a chef in charge. This wasn't well known to the public and probably would not have deterred people from going to the restaurant. When Coco first opened everyone wanted to go immediately. However, the restaurant management knew they were not ready so they limited the amount of customers. Unfortunately, the hard-to-get reservation only added to the customer's expectation of the restaurant, which the restaurant couldn't meet especially without a chef. The results were a series of negative reviews on various social media sites that lasted for months. A friend of mine said after her dinner at Coco that the Mandarin Oriental in Taipei is simply not the Mandarin Oriental that she is familiar with; she has not been back since. Needless to say, I stayed away from Coco after hearing all these negative stories.

Around six months after the opening, the management of the hotel made a rare move and changed the name of the French restaurant from Coco to Café Un Deux Trois – essentially an acknowledgement that the previous setup was a disaster; probably one of the worst roll-out of a restaurant in Taipei in my memory. Mandarin Oriental also finally brought in a new chef, Florence Dalia, who used to be at the New Heights in Shanghai and prior to that at L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon in Hong Kong. It seems right for the Café to have a woman as a chef. After all, the symbol of the restaurant is a woman balancing on a horse and moving forward. The management also hired Alexis Bouillet as the pastry chef; he trained at George V and Plaza Athénée in Paris prior to coming to Taipei. With the new team installed in the kitchen, I finally decided to make a lunch reservation at the restaurant in December of last year. In short, I really enjoyed my first lunch. Since then I have gone back to the Café a few times for both lunch and dinner.

Located on the 5th floor of the hotel, Café Un Deux Trois is not an easy place to get to from the street. The elevator opens onto a blank wall and on the right is a small blue stand displaying the menu of the restaurant. But crossing through the first threshold does not get one to the restaurant, instead a perfume bar. Combining a perfume bar with a restaurant is a bit strange since perfume interferes with the smell of the food. It is not uncommon to see restaurants asking the customers to not only dress appropriately but refrain from using strong perfume. After passing through the perfume bar one arrives at a small cake stand selling some Viennoiseries and pastries. This seems to be a satellite store of the Cake Shop on the ground floor. After the cake stand, comes a small bookstore situated half-story below. The store seems to only sell English language coffee table books published by Assouline and Taschen. I wonder who will actually buy books there; certainly not any local residents in their right minds. Only after walking pass the entrance to the bookstore does one reach the reception desk for the Café. Alas, the actual dining room is still several meters away. All of these programs: perfume bar, cake stand, and bookstore, seem to exist solely to animate a long interiorized corridor connecting the elevators to the restaurant. I have to question the architectural design of the hotel with such a convoluted circulation. There must be some better ways to design the space.

At least there is some light at the end of the tunnel. Café Un Deux Trois is essentially a big rectangular space divided into three large rooms, with two main dining rooms, and one function room in the back. The dining rooms have windows on one side with views of the trees along the Dunhua Boulevard. Chi designed a series of alcoves along the window. Each alcove contains two separate tables. I sat in one of the tables inside an alcove for a lunch and I don't really like it. The seats on the inside is a settee and the furniture fits very tightly within the confines of the partition. While there is a window on one side of the alcove, one only gets an oblique view of the outside. The alcove seems to be private, yet one is actually very close to the adjacent dining party. The space is a bit too cozy and the proportion just seems uncomfortably vertical. Since the Café operates like a brasserie during lunch, it is more fun sitting in the main dining rooms and take part in the ambiance.

The main spaces of the two dining rooms consist mostly of square tables arranged along two rows. The seats are comfortable but I wish the tables are slightly farther apart. The high ceilings in the two main space of the dining rooms consist of tilted mirrored panels, a design idea repeated from Chi's design for the South Gate restaurant in New York City. The different reflectivity of the ceilings and walls add a certain intrigue to the space. The choice of Rosenthal TAC Skin Platinum line for the dinnerware also echoes the ceiling of the room very nicely. Sitting in the main dining room for lunch is very pleasant.

Café Un Deux Trois actually operates like several different restaurants in one. In the morning it is the place where hotel guests take their breakfast. At lunch time, besides the hotel guests, the restaurant is often filled with office workers near the hotel and ladies who lunch. There is a set lunch menu mostly consisting of French food. However, since the Café also serves as the all-day dining venue for the hotel, one will also find Asian classics such as Beef Noodle Soup and Chicken Rice on the menu. In the afternoon, from 2pm to 5pm, the restaurant serves afternoon tea with a set priced at NT$1,000. And at dinner time, the Café becomes the signature French restaurant for the hotel. Therefore, depending on the time one is at the Café, the experience will be completely different from another time.

Mandarin Oriental is not a place where bargains are offered. However, the prix fixe lunch at the Café is a fairly good deal. For NT$950 one gets a three-course meal including coffee. In comparison, a three-course lunch at Bencotto one floor above is NT$980 without coffee. An order of coffee or tea at Café Un Deux Trois and Bencotto is NT$200.

At lunch, there is no amuse bouche, only a good quality bread basket with some butter. I understand there's a cost to everything, nevertheless I would love to have a little snack before the appetizers; something like gougères will not dent the budget much. For the set lunch at the Café, there are three choices for each of the three courses. At my first lunch, I started with Oeuf en Meurette, a classic dish of Burgundy (where the chef is from), egg poached in red wine sauce served with lardons and mushrooms. The color is beautiful and it is such a joy to cut the egg and have the yellow yolk seep out. Often times people in search of the latest trends forget how wonderful the classics can be; there's a reason why some dishes become the classics. I absolutely love this dish and eating it is deeply satisfying; as the French would say, miam miam.

For the main course, I ordered a fillet of fish and it was cooked perfectly, crispy skin with moist interior. The vegetables on the side were fresh and vibrant.

One of my friends ordered the vegetables with creamy quinoa which was delicious; the superfood quinoa is on the dinner menu as well.

My other friend had the cassoulet, which was wonderful as well.

The desserts on the lunch set menu is not as interesting as the à la carte desserts. At one of my lunches at the Café, I had a cherry tart – nice but frankly a bit paltry. Another choice for the dessert is just three plain scoops of ice cream. Coffee is served with a coconut bonbon. The dessert for the prix fixe lunch may be fine for a business person in a hurry or someone who is watching her weight.

However, I prefer to pay a supplemental charge and order the various wonderful desserts from the regular menu. Many of the desserts by Bouillet are his interpretations of the classics: baba, soufflé. choux pastry, and chocolate tart; some are done with tropical fruits such as the grapefruit and passion fruit. They are all executed well technically and simply delicious, a great way to end a meal.

Dinner at the Café feels very different from lunch. First of all, one no longer sees the trees outside the window and the focus become more interiorized. The lighting inside is darker and dim enough that I couldn't really take decent photos of the dishes. Frankly, I prefer the room during the day because the reflective surfaces of the walls and the ceiling are more animated and interesting. At night the room feels a bit flat and lacks a bit of sparkle.

In the evening the Café becomes a slightly more formal restaurant with a shorter menu of just French food. In my two dinners at the Café I found there were less patrons than at lunch time. Instead of two main dining rooms, the Café essentially operates only the room in the front during dinner. For both of my dinners I opted for the 4-course menu, which is priced at NT$2,200 and consisted of a starter, soup, fish or meat, and dessert with coffee; for each course there are only two choices.

Unlike at lunch, dinner starts with an amuse bouche. At my first dinner, it was a tiny (around the size of my thumb) piece of duck served with a small fork. At my second dinner, the amuse was a bit more substantial: nice and fresh vegetables with couscous. The variations in the size of the amuse seem a bit random.

I found the starters at dinner to be wonderful, especially the marinated tuna served over different layers of vegetable purée; the dish is fresh, complex in flavors, and beautifully plated. The other starter that I had at a dinner in March was a new interpretation of the Burgundy classic, Jambon Persillé, served in a bowl with toasted bread on the side; good flavors with delicate plating.

For the soup I ordered the consommé with poached foie gras. The consommé was clear with good flavor. Unfortunately, the soup was not hot enough; the bowl that the soup was served in wasn't too warm either. For the main course, I had the braised lamb shank served over soft polenta. The various components were all good. However, the dish came with a whole clove of unpeeled garlic, the skin of which was mostly white and the texture was closer to raw; the garlic was not cooked long enough. Similar to the soup, the dish was not hot enough. I find it strange that the two dishes (soup and main course) I had, were all prepared earlier and just required reheating, yet they were not hot enough by the time they got to the table. The dishes probably sat waiting in the kitchen for too long.

Unlike at lunch, the dessert for the dinner set menu is more substantial. My friends and I were able to try several different desserts on the menu and they were all nice.

Based on my four meals at Café Un Deux Trois, I can say I quite like the restaurant and the dishes that Dalia and Bouillet are making. At this point I prefer the Café for lunch better than dinner. During the day there seems to be more energy in the restaurant, and even the rhinoceros in the room feels more alive. Since there are many repeat customers for lunch, Dalia changes the menu fairly frequently. If I live and work close by the hotel, I would happily go there on a regular basis. However, I am less convinced about the dinner at the Café. For a fancy dinner at the current price point, I want a few more choices for the various courses. The prix fixe at lunch has three choices for each course, yet the menu at dinner only has two. I also prefer to have slightly more expensive ingredients, or alternatively more interesting proteins. Furthermore, some different mignardises from the one served at lunch to finish the meal would be welcomed as well.

Overall Café Un Deux Trois is a very pleasant restaurant to dine at, but it certainly still has room for improvement. At my lunch in February, we ordered four set menus but only got three desserts. They forgot one dessert and it wasn't served until the other three people finished their desserts. Coffee and tea also took a long time to arrive. This was probably an anomaly. For the most part, the service led by Alva Liang, is fine and pleasant. If anything, the staff seems slightly stiff, more afraid of making mistakes than being confident and relaxed. The kitchen has glitches as well, such as the aforementioned temperature of the food. However, these are not large structural problems, but will require more attention to details during the rush of service. Mistakes happen to everyone, including three-star restaurants, and it is not easy to operate a large multi-purpose restaurant like Café Un Deux Trois. Furthermore, one cannot help but to have high expectations for Mandarin Oriental with its so-called six-star status. What's important is the restaurant acknowledges the problems and will correct them. In my exchanges with the chefs and the manager, I find them to be open to criticism and care about the customer's reactions. I feel confident that the restaurant will get better moving forward. They always seem happy to receive me and in turn I am happy to go back.