Kaisan 3

Why Kaisan 3? Cos that's the number of times I had to upload my mobile phone photos onto Flickr to in turn get them on to Blogger (tech retard). It's also probably the number of weeks I'm late posting this restaurant note. Bah. So in case you're wondering why all these dishes sound familiar, it's probably cos you read them on Mia, Karen or Ivan's blogs weeks ago.

The upside to my blogging this late (i.e. my big excuse) is that by this time I've forgotten many of the minor details and technicalities that I'd stored in my head with the intention of dedicating a full paragraph of long unpunctuated sentences to. What's left for me to report is that warm fuzzy feeling that stays in your tummy long after a great meal, indistinct but pleasurable memories that make you just... want more.

So that was Kaisan. The ambience on a weekday evening was clean, crisp, refined and relaxed, without the hustle and booming voices of the business suited lunchtime crowd. The chefs looked laid back and welcoming, sharing about the day's specialties with quiet pride and a cold beer on hand.



The sashimi was faultless; still, in my biased mind, one step short of Akane's orgasm on a plate, but perfectly fresh and beautifully presented. Even the smallest, trickiest river fish was deftly sliced to almost physically impossible levels of thinness with notable precision and uniformity. The variety, including many seasonal specials and several off-menu secrets, is sufficient to melt even the most jaded sashimi lover's heart.



As tempting as it was to stick with just sashimi, we ventured to try some hot foods and sushi at the chef's behest. All were enjoyable and provided an extra dimension (i.e. hot and rice) to the meal.



My only gripe was that, although the sushi is perfectly formed (large strip of fish, small mound of rice, proportions and texture primed to show off the quality of the fish), the sushi rice vinegar was sometimes a bit strong and competed for attention with a couple of the more delicate fishes. A minor gripe compared to everything that went so well that night. Honestly, who cares when you have this monstrous otoro sitting in front of you?



We were also fortunate to have been received with such hospitality. Upon the realization that we were a group of food bloggers (one person angles the dish, four people take photos, pass down and repeat. Chef says must eat this one quick and everyone screams "nooooo, must take photo first!!!" We're a pretty obvious bunch), the chef pulled out all the stops, accompanying each dish with a description of its origins, how to appreciate it, and so on. And far from getting the sense that this was being done for a good review, it seemed more that he was keen to share his passion for his craft and show off his treasure chest of secrets.

So yes, admittedly, we did benefit from a lot of chef love that night. But my suspicions that this is just a pretty damn good Japanese restaurant was independently verified by Philippe yesterday. He'd brought some colleagues for a weekday lunch and was very impressed with the quality of the food, especially the sashimi. His only gripe was that he'd asked the waitress to organize a mini-omakase with an emphasis on crab. Everything that came was very good, but no crab ever appeared, which the waitress explained at the end of the meal was because it didn't fit into his budget. Clearly a communication problem that is quite inexcusable, but, five minutes after telling me this, Philippe was back to musing "but that beef was amazing... that sashimi was so fresh... I do want to give it one more try..."

And that's my Kaisan story. For sashimi it's now #3 on my list after Akane and Nogawa, but its convenient location at Raffles Hotel and slightly lower price tag means I'll probably be back more often. Great place to suggest for a business lunch, or for a quiet catch-up night with a couple of good girlfriends.

Just to end off, here's my little tribute to Umami and her husband. They were the ones who recommended Kaisan to us in the first place, and chef Thomas immediately recalled their personal favourites. So here are their initials, painstakingly sculpted out of onion slices, next to their faves. Guys, we're thinking of you!



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Kaisan
#01-21 Raffles Hotel Arcade
T: 6339 4929

P.S. Chef Thomas mentioned that his daughter is an avid food blog reader and a passionate baker. Didn't catch her name but, if by any chance, his daugher is reading this... you're one lucky girl if you get to eat like this at home :) Hope to read about your baking exploits on a blog some day!

Tian Jin Fong Kee

When you're hungry and need filling up in a hurry, you can't go wrong with a big plate of Chinese dumplings, or jiaozi.

My love affair with jiaozis started as a kid. We have a Sam Ee Por (or Third Grandaunt, for the non-Cantonese out there) who lives in London and used to spend a month or so each year in Singapore visiting my grandma. Their catch-up sessions would inevitably take place over the backyard kitchen table, their hands busy kneading, stuffing and sealing wotip after wotip (again, for the non-Cantonese, wotip is Cantonese for guotie, the fried version of jiaozi that I grew up eating) while they chatted.

All tears over Sam Ee Por's eventual return to London's muggy shores would thus be softened with the knowledge that my grandma's freezer was packed with sufficient wotip to ensure the entire extended family would be kept well stocked till her next visit.

And whenever one of the family happened to be in London, a call to Sam Ee Por informing her of our visit would hear her voice perking up over the phone to make the declaration we were all hoping to hear: "Sam Ee Por will make you some wotip!"

And trust me, there is nothing better during a cold London winter than Sam Ee Por's wotip. Except maybe her yau mei fan (a recipe for another day).

So while wotip remains for me, a warm and fuzzy flagbearer of all things good and Cantonese, to Philippe, it's one of the ultimate Beijing dishes.

Jiaozi, the steamed Northern Chinese equivalent, was likewise a godsend during equally harsh Beijing winters. Cheap, warm and filling, it also offered the advantage of being one of the rare dishes in a Chinese university canteen that did not come blanketed in a layer of oil and MSG.

Later, when we both began working in Beijing, jiaozi was the convenient meal-in-a-bag that you could stock up for months at a go at your nearest supermarket, and have ready to eat in under 5 minutes after a late night of work.

So you can imagine we were pretty thrilled when my dad introduced us to Tian Jin Fong Kee when we moved back to Singapore. Formerly (and they're back now) occupying a couple of stalls at the People's Park Complex Hawker Centre, Fong Kee moved into a ground floor unit in the main building when the hawker centre underwent renovation. The new unit got jazzed up with mod Chinese lanterns, airconditioning, and an expanded menu featuring Northern Chinese dishes and coffeeshop favourites such as yangzhou fried rice and beef hor fun.

Their signature jiaozi, however, remain as good as before. Compared to other jiaozi stores, I'd say what distinguishes Fong Kee's jiaozi are the generous amount of chopped chives, which are awful for one's breath but gives the meat a sharp, onion-like edge. The meat contains a fair bit of fat, fast approaching the border of xiaolongbao soupy. The guotie version also carries the charred, smoky imprint of hot frying oil which is especially addictive when contrasted with the vinegar and ginger dipping sauce, while the boiled jiaozi benefit from a skin that is firm but not thick and overly starchy.

It's hard to even consider ordering other dishes when the jiaozi are so addictive, but we usually make an exception for the zhajiang mian. As you can see from the picture, it's not a pretty dish, nor are the ingredients terribly refined. But the zhajiang boasts a strong splash of vinegar that's very kai wei ("appetite opening") and the noodles are smooth.

One thing I never understood about Fong Kee was the high number of burly, tattoo-hewn Caucasians who, together with their rows of beer bottles, usually occupy the outdoor seats alongside Chinatown regulars. I discovered recently, courtesy of Fong Kee's website, that when grandfather Fong Chee Yen arrived from Tianjin in 1948 and set up the dumpling business, most of his customers were sailors who had developed a taste for jiaozi through their round-the-world travels, as opposed to Singaporeans who were initially unfamiliar with the dish. Perhaps there's a big book of sailor lore that lists Fong Kee as a must-visit destination for sailors even today.

Today, Fong Kee has two outlets, both at People's Park (they've moved back to the hawker centre as well now that renovations have finished), a restaurant at Murray Street and a home delivery and catering service. Let me know if you've tried them and what you think!

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Tian Jin Fong Kee

#01-100 People's Park Complex

Tel: 6532-3319; and

#01-1448 People's Park Centre

Tel: 6532-3318

Fong Kee Restaurant

6 Murray Street (next to Maxwell House)

Tel: 6220-3318

www.fongkee.com

Warong M. Nasir

Thought, for a cheap thrill, that I'd try to be the first one to post about today's lunch at Warong M. Nasir - beating out the ever efficient Ivan as well as the vacationing Cheryl, Superfinefeline and Umami (ok, so Umami would argue she's not on vacation, and hearing her stressful moving stories, I'm inclined to agree, Paris or no Paris).

The lunch was part of a month-long drive to ensure that Umami gets to eat all the necessary before departing for colder and decidedly less spicy shores. Happily for me, lunch also gave me an opportunity to try a new eating place, and the combination of good food and good company made it very pleasant indeed.


Will let the pictures do the talking, save these few observations:

- Warung M. Nasir has to be one of the most comfortable nasi padang places in town. Air-conditioning, artwork on cherry red walls, Antonio Carlos Jobim playing over the speakers... sure beats dripping sweat and choping tables with tissue paper packets. They even have a modest wine fridge.

- The beef rendang, highly recommended by a conspicuously absent Joone, was excellent, moist and tender and dense with kecap manis-like caramelized sweetness. Didn't get a close pic but here's its cousin (not literally, that would be messed up) the chicken rendang instead - this was dry fiery in contrast and a bit too spicy for my weak taste buds.


- The beef tongue, despite looking very attractive, received fairly negative feedback (that's it in the bottom left corner). Being a coward when it comes to eating odd bits, I sheepishly passed, but felt somewhat vindicated when words such as "spongy" were later tossed around to describe it.


- Umami's Spider-sense detected a fresh batch of fried potato wedges creeping up from behind her. These turned out fabulous, covered in crispy sweet white bait and bits of chili. If you strain your eyes, you can just make it out as the plate stacked on top of the stir fried spinach :)


For a parting pic, see what happens when you lunch with food bloggers? A group paparazzi moment...

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Warong M. Nasir Indonesian Food

69 Killiney Road

T: 6734 6228

Min Jiang at one-north

I guess now that the birthday's more than a month past, I should wrap up on the birthday blogging. Lunch at Charlie's Corner and dinner at Akane on Thursday were followed by drinks at Coffee Bar K on Friday night, a great place if (a) you like your cocktails and whiskeys and (b) if you want to actually be able to converse without straining your voice/hearing. The bar, which doesn't seem to serve coffee whatsoever (actually I didn't ask - who would even think of coffee when the drinks list comes in a folder the thickness of karaoke song folders in days of yore), surprisingly serves very mean pizzas - thin, crispy, with bits of deliciously sweet chaodar-ness. No pics but use your imagination :)

Wrapped up the various celebrations with Sunday lunch with the family at Min Jiang. In addition to its regular menu, Min Jiang also offers dim sum on Sundays, which turned out to be very passable for a supposedly Sichuan restaurant, and satisfied even the most Cantonese among us.

The highlight of any meal at Min Jiang, of course, is its Peking duck, served three ways. First the thinnest and crispiest skin bits are carved and placed on the table, to be simply dipped in sugar. This is followed by two lots of pancake with duck meat and skin - the traditional spring onions, cucumber and hoisin sauce combination, as well as a garlic and pickled radish strips (kimchi?) combination. Aside from incredibly delicious, the spectacle of having the chef carve the duck tableside and the luxury of having your pancakes wrapped for you added an element of luxury that was welcome on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

Some of the other dishes that really stood out for us were:

- As a starter, the drunken chicken is a refreshing wake-up call, cold and gently sweet while the wine gets the tastebuds going.

- The wo tip or fried guo tie. These looked like normal guo tie on steroids, honestly massive and stuffed to the brim with meat.

- The ma po dou fu came in a brilliant scarlet and was numbingly addictive...

- ... likewise the gong bao ji ding was crowned in a heaping of fiery dry chillies. The chicken dice were incredibly tender, free of any distracting bits of skin or gristle.

Min Jiang is now my favourite Chinese restaurant. The Sichuan dishes are, to my knowledge, as authentic as it gets in Singapore - the "ma" and "la" distinct and captivating without overwhelming the otherwise delicate and fresh ingredients. The Cantonese dim sum was a pleasant surprise as well. Add to that a lovely tree-flanked setting and decent service, and you really could do much worse for a weekend family lunch.

As a parting thought, you know how, as a customer, it's sometimes the little touches that make a difference? Thought this was a perfect example of how the restaurant goes the extra mile to think of the comfort of its customers... a mini bag chair! And it's even chained to my grown-up chair, how cute is that?

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Min Jiang at one-north

5 Rochester Park

Tel: 6774 0122

Note: Peking duck needs to be ordered at least one day in advance

Akane

More belated birthday blogging...

My determination to mark my birthday with uncharacteristic financial prudence was swiftly eliminated by a simple counter-argument - that special occasions are meant for splurging, and if we don't go to Akane now, it'd be another year before we could justify going again.

The only problem is that, now that we've been, I want to go every day.

Akane, by way of quick introduction/refresher, is located at the Japanese Association of Singapore, and is the flagship restaurant of Nogawa-san, Singapore's godfather of Japanese cuisine. The Nogawa group includes two other restaurants under the Nogawa name - at Sentosa Golf Club (read about our dinner for Philippe's birthday here) and Le Meridien - but it's at the Japanese Association Akane that Nogawa-san actively presides.

And indeed it's hard to miss him. A collage of photos featuring Nogawa-san alongside various local and foreign luminaries (including our own MM and President Nathan) marks the end of the entry corridor. Behind the sushi counter, his deep tan, even deeper wrinkles and bustling energy is unmistakable. The boss is here!

Our initial intimidation, however, proved unfounded. Nogawa-san was unreservedly friendly, even grandfatherly, as he educated us on a variety of topics ranging from the mating habits of sea bream to the genealogy of burdock roots. The charisma seemed infectious, with sushi chef Anson taking equally good care of us throughout the night.

As for the food, the sashimi and sushi were definitely the stars. Philippe's initial reaction upon sampling the sashimi platter was that we had never tried these fish before; the sad truth was that we had many times - this was just so superior a version that you could not mentally link what Akane was serving with the limp and rubbery pieces that pass for sashimi elsewhere.

Sashimi, including otoro, sea bream, mackerel, octopus, akagai

The sashimi was really sparklingly fresh, incredibly sweet and varied in flavour, and, in the case of the otoro, so chockful of fatty goodness that honestly. the marbling had marbling. Since the word "sublime" has now been outlawed from food blogging, I shall simply say that this is the stuff that happiness is made of :)

Likewise, the sushi that rounded off our meal was meaty yet delicate, often accompanied by a light searing, a crisp pat of grated ginger or a splash of tart sauce. I loved the way the fish carelessly blankets the rice so that the flavours and texture of the fish can really shine through. I took pictures only of the two below, but in addition we had eggplant sushi, botan ebi sushi, mackerel sushi, baigai shell and a couple more.

Seared otoro sushi

Unagi sushi

The rest of the dishes we were served, omakase style, were well-executed and enjoyable, but, unlike the sashimi and sushi, none really stood out as dishes I would obsess about and come back specifically for. In particular, although the otoro soup was luxurious with its large otoro chunks that literally dissolved in your mouth, at $65 for two bowls I would've preferred a simple seafood soup and otoro sashimi instead. Likewise the grilled saba and braised red snapper with burdock root were delicious, but the repetition of fish in every dish began to wear somewhat thin.

Starter of anglefish liver

Otoro soup

Grilled saba

Braised red snapper with burdock root

Can't remember too much about our last pre-sushi savoury dish, except it (finally!) did not contain fish, and seemed to be the chef's take on takoyaki - a tempura-ed mashed yam ball with some secret filling (ok I've forgotten) inside. Fun but forgettable.

Dessert was a simple plate of fresh persimmon and pear slices with a cup of strong oolong tea. Nice but we enviously noted that the group of young Japanese next to us had marinated mixed fruit in persimmon cups instead, which was featured in Yoshihiro Murata's Kaiseki as a classic autumn dessert. Missed my chance :(

Conclusion: If I won a million-dollar lottery tomorrow, I would superglue my butt to Akane's counter seats and omakase myself to a bloated yet joyful death. Till then, I'm saving my money for the sashimi and sushi (definitely worth their premium price) and filling any leftover space in my stomach with the restaurant's reasonably priced udon.