Earlier this
year, I experienced the most truly and utterly sublime meal of my life while in
Hong Kong for some business recently. For many years, this place of honour on the mantle of my culinary experience was comfortable held by Cheong Liew's legendary Four Dances of the Sea, which has over the years inspired many menu offerings in top end restaurants throughout Australia, with some barely disguised emulations (although none of them come anywhere close to the original).
The fact that I enjoyed this meal during lunchtime in between meetings (okay,
so I was very late to the next meeting …) while dining on my own should speak
volumes about the culinary tour de force delivered by the Demon Chef.
I must warn you
that this article is really long, but it was necessary to do justice to the
meal and the experience!
I have to confess
that I hadn’t heard of Bo Innovation before my trip, but my old-school mate Wu
Xi (who works for one of those too big to fail investment banks in their Hong
Kong office which is again enjoying record profits, so he should know), knowing that I enjoyed my food, suggested that
I check it out.
I was later to discover
that Bo Innovation boasted 2 Michelin Stars, was ranked 52 in San Pellegrino’s
World’s Best Restaurants 2012 list (up from 65th position the year
before), and has been featured by Anthony Bourdain as well. No wonder it’s so damn good!
It’s a good thing
I decided to come here for lunch, instead of dinner, because it’s apparently
booked out for weeks for dinner, but they were able to fit me in for an early
lunch, which suited me just fine.
The restaurant
itself is occupies the 2nd floor of what appears to be a high end
apartment block in a non-descript laneway (60 Johnston Road) in Wan Chai on
Hong Kong Island, with some floors having been converted into offices or
restaurants. As I stepped out of the
lift, the Maître D was there to greet me, but more intriguingly, I immediately
savoured the rich aroma of a good Cuban cigar permeating the large terrace
outside the restaurant. Yes, I was going
to like this place!
The source of the
cigar was this lone, hard to miss, fellow with almost shoulder-length hair
wearing a stylised black chef’s outfit, furiously scribbling away on a
notepad. I was later to discover that
this was none other than Alvin Leung, the Demon Chef and owner of the
restaurant, and he was working on some concepts for his upcoming cooking TV
series.
The restaurant
itself is ultra-modern in design, with an open kitchen separated from the
dining area by a high bar table where patrons could sit. I was pleased, however, to be given a normal
table near the kitchen from which I could see the entire restaurant. The fact that I was the only one in the
restaurant because of my early booking time suited me just fine.
On sitting down,
the first thing I noticed is the unique table setting, accompanied by different
glasses to accommodate the different varieties of wine that were on offer.
Naturally, I
ordered the 8 course Chef’s Menu (at HK780, it’s a bargain compared to Perth
prices, where you can pay considerably more for a mediocre meal), together with
a glass of Bollinger to kick things off.
First course was
the exquisitely delicate Dead Garden, featuring morel, caterpillar fungus,
green onion and lime. It arrived in a
little glass bowl on perched on 3 legs, with the air dried morel “soil” sitting
on a green foam base of spring onion and lime juice, with a generous serving of
the caterpillar fungus and enoki mushrooms delicately emerging from the soil. The “soil” sported delightfully crunchy fine
grains, and the enoki was infused with a savoury onion flavour that had an
amazing length of flavour long after I had swallowed it.
I was later to
discover that caterpillar fungus is just that: a caterpillar which is infected
by a parasitic fungus that eventually mummifies the host and eventually pops
out of the ground, and is found deep in Nepal’s Dolpa district at an elevation
of 4,300m. CNN earlier this year reported that
this delicacy can fetch up to USD26,000 in Shanghai for 500 grams – probably
due in a large part to the fact that it’s also called the Himalayan Viagra and
the Chinese believe it to contain Viagral properties. Hmmm maybe I should have saved a few strands
for the Fashion TV party at Dragon-I later that
week …
Next up was the
Molecular Xiao Long Bao, arriving as a glistening, perfectly round globe garnished
with a slice of pickled ginger sitting in a Chinese spoon. As I am a fan of the traditional Xiao Long
Bao (a ubiquitous dim sum staple, although seldom done well), this was
something to look forward to! The
crunchy yet yielding texture of algae jelly shell gave way to the warm,
unctuous and savoury pork flavoured soup (which was thicker than expected) in a
juxtaposition of textures.
Then came the Har
Mi, consisting of the namesake dried shrimp paste made into powdered flakes and
oil served in separate containers, accompanied by a two-parter: handmade pasta
sautéed in har mi oil and garnished with deep fried sage, tossed through with
crab roe and chilli; and a carabinero (a large red prawn from Spain), half of
which was sashimi style, and the other half stuffed with cream made from prawn
roe and covered with crab roe. I love
the fact that this dish required a little but of diner involvement – you could
season it with the har mi flakes and oil to taste.
The sashimi was
soft but firm as you bit in, yet without any overpowering prawny or fishy
flavour, and the pasta was firm and chewy but not undercooked – al dente,
certamente! – with the counterpoint of the roe delicately popping in my mouth
as I chewed. Adding the oil and flakes
to the pasta imparted it with savoury prawny flavours, with the deep fried sage
adding a salty, herbaceous, yet subtle counterpoint.
The other end of
the prawn yielded a big pop in my mouth of a savoury flavour bomb accompanied
by the contrasting textures of the crunchy spring roll wrapping, the popping of
the crab roe, and the creaminess of the prawn roe cream filling. Wow. I
had to close my eyes to enjoy this moment …
And it even got
better – I popped the remaining middle of the prawn into my mouth, where the two
parts joined together, and it provided a further textural contrast from the
sensuous slipperiness of the sashimi side.
I could not help
but linger a long time over this course, trying every single permutation of
shrimp oil, shrimp flakes and each component of the dish. That’s why you know
I’m not talking through my shrimp-hole when I recommend that you eat the prawn
with the oil, as it further enhances the already mind-boggling yet pleasurable
flavours of this dish.
At this stage,
the restaurant started to fill up – an eclectic mixture of business people
entertaining clients, couples having a romantic lunch and even tourists on a
food pilgrimage.
This was also the
point at which the next course arrived, a chunk of moist, juicy cod piece
(somehow that doesn’t quite sound right …) delicately balanced on two cubes of
sauternes jelly and light crunchy seaweed, swimming in a thick saffron miso
sauce (but really, it was so thick that gravy might be a more appropriate
descriptor).
This dish exuded
a comfortingly sweet and savoury aroma and the saffron miso delivered on the
expectation created by its aroma, complementing the moist and soft cod and the
sauternes jelly that just melted in your mouth.
And there were tiny purple flowers which added just a little hint of
spice – hey if it’s on my plate, I’m eating it!
It’s all about the
contrasts – the yin and yang – not just in the flavours, but also in the aromas,
textures and the presentation. But the
true skill of the master chef shines through in the fact that there is not a
discordant note; all of these contrasts complement each other and blend into a
superb amalgam.
My glass of Tra
La La Chardonnay arrived at the same time as the cod, and its fresh herbaceous
and vanilla flavours nicely complemented the sweet and savoury flavours of the
dish.
But of course,
one glass of wine is not enough, so I also ordered a glass of 2004 Chateau Tour
de Mirambeau, a deliciously rich Bordeaux, all dark cherries, spice and
oak. The tannins were still strong but
no longer dominant, which is good, because I was here to eat.
Next up came the
Iberico 36 – an intriguing dish of dark-brown morel infused vermicelli wrapped
with air dried iberico jamon with a blob of gazpacho foam at one end. Nice aroma and flavour, and surprisingly, it
paired perfectly with the chardonnay rather than the Bordeaux. Some food for thought!
Then followed a
dish containing one of my favourite (albeit guilty) pleasures: a generously
massive slab of fried foie gras sporting a nicely browned, slightly crispy
surface. It was accompanied by a crispy
wafer thin mui choy perched on a scoop of mui choy flavoured ice cream (which
was strangely pleasant yet savoury), accompanied by a small chunk of ginger
crumble. This dished introduced a new
dimension of yin and yang: hot and cold.
The other star of
this dish was the mui choy: dried and salted mustard greens; a traditional
Chinese ingredient. A bowl of dried,
uncooked mui choy was placed on the table for comparison – not to be eaten, but
to serve as a visual counterpoint.
The sensations in
my mouth of melting cold ice cream, leading into the soft buttery foie gras
with its slightly crunchy fried surface, and ending with the crispy dried mui
choy and crunchy ginger crumble (which had a very subtle ginger flavour – not
overpowering at all) all provided a perfectly seamless spectrum of textures and
sensations.
I lingered over
the foie gras to make it last as long as I could, but alas, all good things
must come to an end. But luckily for me,
the best dish was yet to come!
The Saga-Gyu Beef
is mind-blowing. A thick slice of A4
Grade (marbling factor of 9) full-blooded wagyu lying on top of 3 short flour
rolls of cheong fun, which is traditional Chinese fare most commonly eaten at a
dim sum (also known as yum cha in Australia) restaurant, and certainly
unexpected in a fine dining restaurant!
But wait, there’s
more: each cheong fun roll was decadently filled with shavings of black truffle
and fried in soy to impart flavour, colour and a slightly crisp texture.
The dish was
accompanied by a flourish of thick sauce looking like a musical note, made from
white truffle oil, black truffles (you could see chunks of them poking out) and
a soy reduction, as is expected as an accompaniment to cheong fun. It was salty and slightly sweet, but the
flavour was not so strong as to dominate.
This dish was
just unbelievable. It conjured emotions
and feelings within me, yet I didn’t know what was happening and couldn’t put
my finger on it, like the first time I ever had a crush on a girl …
The flavour and
aroma of truffles is palpable and the cheong fun is perfect – a familiar friend
(yes I love yum cha and always order cheong fun) in a different guise, offering
up cruchy little truffle surprises as you chew.
I expected a
difference in texture between the cheong fun and the wagyu, but the revelation
was instead in the similarity of textures!
The wagyu was
perfectly cooked with with a lovely dark pink middle layer sandwiched between
crisp seared surfaces. The soft, buttery
meat yielded delightfully flavoursome oil as I chewed into it, and reduced to a
faint texture of fibres – no dentures needed to eat this meat!
My mouth still
salivates months later as I write this article and recall the flavours,
sensations and even emotions. Wow.
After this dish,
nothing else could come close, so I thought the dessert was very thoughtfully
created – rather than try to hit the heady heights of culinary bliss delivered
by the Saga-Gyu Beef, it gave you that pleasant afterglow which you get at the
end of an amazing holiday when it’s time to get on the plane to go home. But make no mistake – it was still inventive
and delicious in its own right.
Sze Chuan style
strawberry ice cream it was, sitting on a sprinkling of toffee powder and
topped with powdered white chocolate, with a few little green leaf things for a
colour contrast.
Being a massive
chilli eater (have you read about my love of Akabanga?), my desensitised palate
didn’t experience any spiciness, but it did leave a bit of an afterglow in the
mouth – more minty than spicy, really.
The accompanying Chinese almond panacotta (inspired by another
ubiquitous and much-loved dim sum dish) was topped with blood orange
jelly. This dish was not just dessert
for the mouth – its visually pleasing presentation also provided eye-candy.
Now you think that this
story abruptly ends here, and yes it has possibly been the longest article I
have ever written, but we’re not quite done yet!
Check out the follow-up post for more details of my cigar and whisky with the Demon Chef and a couple more special dishes ...
I had the opportunity to stay at Clive Palmer's Palmer Coolum Resort (in the news earlier this year owing to its difficult transition and name changes from the Hyatt Coolum Resort to its present-day moniker; as well as the high profile political and other activities of its eponymous billionaire owner, who is building the Titanic II because he can) over the weekend for a conference, and decided to head up to Noosa for a night outside the resort with various friends and colleagues, including Suze, Kimmie, Phil, Sandra (well done ACLA Government Lawyer of the Year!), Gillian, Adrian and others. Suze and I had an ulterior objective: to get fellow foodie Kimmie (who steadfastly does the job of two people without complaint and travels virtually every month) out and about and enjoying herself, instead of staying in her resort room doing more work, so we had to create a compelling lure by finding a good restaurant.
Some internet research suggested that Ricky's by the Noosa riverfront is the place to go - thank you to www.tripadvisor.com.au, one of the most reliable open-sourcing review websites I have found, based on my culinary travels around the world - so I booked a table there for me and my companions. This choice was further vindicated by Kate, a Sydney-sider I met at the resort, who told me that her boss, the managing director of a healthcare group with a hospital in this neck of the woods, rates Ricky's as his go-to restaurant whenever he makes a local visit.
The menu provided ample variety, with entrees and mains focusing on comfort styles. The food was tasty and well executed, with steaks coming out medium rare when you asked for medium rare, with some care and effort going into the presentation of the dishes (tending to larger portions and full plates). The octopus that came with the octopus and pork belly entree was amazingly soft and light; soufflé-like in texture! The desserts impressed me - while there was a lag between ordering the desserts and receiving them, this was because they were prepared from scratch, including a perfect soufflé.
The Chris Ringland Shiraz wasn't the only exquisite thing to be found in the restaurant that night. We happened to be sitting next to a table of girls from Brisbane on a hen's party, which is where I chatted to Laura Anne, with her exquisitely exotic looks - perfect coiffure and make-up, piercing blue eyes and tasteful ink on her left arm (and no I don't often say "tasteful" and "ink" in the same phrase). Laura Anne is a Rockabilly pin-up model who told me that she would be on the cover of Hot Rod Annual 2012. Pleased to meet you, Miss Laura Anne. Hot rods ain't my thing, but I will certainly buy a copy ...
