Confession: I do not like the Glenmorangie’s Original 12-year single malt whiskey. I find the flavour too mellow and doesn’t stand against the harshness of the alcohol. But that doesn’t make it a bad whiskey.

When I was twelve, I was harsh and obnoxious too. At age 31 today, I’m still obnoxious, but I have other merits which balance it out. Similarly, the Glenmorangie Original, when nurtured a certain way, would also bear something that has a different, more palatable personality; and my favourite among them is the Glenmorangie Astar. I would describe the flavour as multi-faceted and intense.

The Glenmorangie Original inspires the Astar and more – the soundwave of Glenmorangie being poured into a crystal glass inspired renowned architect and interior designer Philip Michael Wolfson to design the (rather unique yet functional) SOUNDFORM Fluid bar.

Some wonderful things in life you get to experience regularly, while others perhaps only once. Perhaps the SOUNDFORM Fluid bar is something that I’d only ever see once, which I did at the North Atrium of The Gardens Mall in April; but perhaps I would get to behold the unique functional sculpture again someday.

Whatever the case, I do hope that the chance to taste of the Glenmorangie Astar would not be something that passes too soon; and when I do get the chance to sit down with my Astar, it would be in the silence and solitude, for that is where I get inspired.

There is a certain sanctity about good food and drink, and I respect it. I would never order a steak well-done; I would never eat pork ribs with chilli sauce; and I would never drink a good whisky with cola. I respect good food as a product of plenty of thought; with every process purposeful and not mere afterthoughts. It is this same philosophy that is practiced by Glenmorangie in making their whiskys.

Slow-growing white oaks from the Ozark Mountains in Missouri, USA grow over a century before they are selected and harvested, and aged naturally for another 2 years before being made into casks that will be used to age Glenmorangie whisky for 10 years to yield their original whisky. Glenmorangie even controls their quality so meticulously, that they even went all the way as to purchase the natural spring where they source the water used in their whisky; just to ensure that every single aspect of their whisky is exactly as they would have it. No detail is overlooked in getting it exactly as they want it to be. All those years and carefully-thought details just to produce a whisky that Glenmorangie would pride themselves on. They would call “Unnecessarily Well Made”.

I think we could all stand to learn something from Glenmorangie; that is, if you’re going to do something, do it so well that it seems almost unnecessary. After all, I’ve never believed a good life can come from settling for mere necesseties; and make no mistake – it’s all about the good life.

Reflecting their philosophy of “Unnecessarily Well Made”, Glenmorangie’s SOUNDFORM Fluid bar (its unusual design inspired by a the graph of a soundwave!) will be showcased from 11 April to 1 May 2012 in the North Atrium of The Gardens Mall, Mid Valley City.

I remember when I was young and naive, when a night out at the club was on of the best things to look forward to. Blowing money that I didn’t have on whiskey that I couldn’t appreciate beyond its intoxicating nature. Sacrificing sleep that was later to be repaid with time that I thought I had too much of. That is not to say that I think clubbing is for the young and foolish; but rather the fact that in retrospect, I missed out on many good things while my cross-hairs were focused on getting sloshed amidst the the bass-inspired rhythmic flailings.

Retro is the perfect excuse for an expired party-boy such as myself to make (vain) attempts at reliving the good ol’ party days; and that is precisely what I tried to do at the Glenmorangie Orange Night, which was held at The Pool. The venue interestingly wrapped around a swimming pool (hence the name), and plenty of (The Original) Glenmorangie single-malt whiskey flowed freely that night, ushering out the last Friday night of March. I tried to relive being young and naive, but I just could not.

I didn’t get the music. I didn’t get the style. I didn’t get the excitement. Everyone else seemed to be having a blast; but not I. I was desperately trying to grasp onto what youth I had left, but it would seem that I didn’t have any left.

I am no longer young and naive. Perhaps it is with age that one’s character, like whiskey, develops into something richer. I would offer myself consolation, calling myself The Original; and perhaps characteristic of Glenmorangie’s single-malt whiskey of that namesake, would I call myself matured and golden? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I’m not really sure. What I am sure of, however, is that I am in my Golden Age; and these are the years that I should indulge in the best of everything.

I have a different ideology, though. To me, breakfast is many things; a mediocre affair is not among them. On Sundays when I wake up with my love’s warmth under my blanket, breakfast is a celebration of all the good things in life. One particular Sunday morning, it was at Sheraton Imperial KL’s Celestial Court where we indulged in one of my favourite renditions of breakfast – dim sum.

Har gao in crystal carrot puree with dried scallop and coriander (RM13++)

Ubiquitous at every dim sum table anywhere, har gao bashfully made an early entrance at our table – its flushed orange hue inescapably apparent. The poor little shrimp dumpling must’ve been very nervous that morning, as it failed to impress, despite being endowed with dried scallop for added flavour. Perhaps we should’ve spent less time admiring it and just lunged at it with our chopsticks the moment it was laid on our table.

Crispy dragon beard with cod fish and avocado (RM18++)

The crispy dragon beard with cod fish and avocado was one of many demonstrations of the chef’s creativity in combining different textures, balancing different flavours, and coming up with ridiculously Chinese names for a dish. Creamy against crispy; and a spectrum of mild, fatty flavours made it an interesting dish. I would’ve prefered the cod to be a fresh, juicy fillet instead of a fish paste, though.

Pan-seared stuffed scallop with squid mousse served with egg white, pumpkin and truffle puree (RM20++)

Perhaps the most unusual of creations by the chef, it was also the one that impress us the most, comprising of a single (giant?) scallop, squid mousse, egg white, pumpkin, truffle sauce, and caviar. Freshest of scallop, dressed in rich textures and little notes of sweet, salty, and savoury; we shared this small dish and finished it without the slightest rush, as the complexity of the flavours could only truly be appreciated at leisure, in between secret sighs of pleasure.

Xiao Long Bao with crabmeat at caviar (RM13++)

One of my favourite staple dim sum items, which I usually approach with much caution, is the xiao long bao ; and for good reason – too many restaurants try to live up to what these majestic soup dumplings should be, and fail. While not absolutely the best xiao long bao I’ve ever had, the crab meat (none of that “crabstick” nonsense) was an improvement over the pork that it stood in place of (Celestial Court is a pork-free establishment, incidentally) and the caviar was a nice touch (which I didn’t think really contributed a lot to the flavour).

Sauteed radish cake with shredded roast duck in spicy homemade sauce (RM25++)

Coming from a Hokkien part of the country, I have certain expectations of fried radish cake. Though I’ve (mostly) come to terms with the idea of never finding any place that serves very good fried radish cake, I harbor a secret hope that one day, I would be pleasantly surprised; and the day finally came. The chunks of radish cake were dense yet fluffy, with a lingering taste of a sauce that tasted familiarly sweet, yet eluded me. The shredded duck lent a new dimension of flavour that was unfamiliar in the dish, yet it belongs as if it had always been made that way. The chicken floss topping, as humble as it was, pushed the dish beyond my expectations.

Chilled avocado puree with walnut ice-cream (RM13++)

To mark the end of our (exceptionally heavy) meal, we shared between us walnut ice cream in chilled avocado puree. Creamy and rich, the pleasure was only muted by prior experience of the same dessert which I had in a previous visit, where coconut sorbet was used in lieu of walnut ice cream, which I preferred by far due to the interesting balance of sweetness, aroma and richness. Next time, I will request for a special order. After all, the waitstaff and chef at Celestial Court seem like they would be happy to accommodate any special requests; and so I would see fit to take advantage of that.

I have come a long way in redefining what breakfast is in my life, since the days of living under my parents’ roof many years ago. At least on Sundays when the fairer half is around, breakfast is a purposeful event; and we try to make the best of it, because to wake up in the morning with the one you love, with a purpose, with a plan, is really what most people seek, whether they know it or not. Perhaps the most important thing about breakfast to me, is that it serves as a reminder that I am in charge of how I want things to be for me, and never have to let anyone tell me otherwise; and I would demonstrate this more often than I should by defying what some may term as brunch, and insist that 11am is indeed still breakfast.

Herbs beef tenderloin carpaccio, arugula, parmesan crackers and Modena reduction.

A bold and unusual entrée to the unacquainted, carpaccio is an acquired taste that I particularly enjoy when done right; that is, the fresh raw tenderloin has to be pounded so fine, that it would almost melt in the mouth. The parmesan crackers were a lovely alternative to parmesan shavings, as it not only lent a crispy texture to the dish, but also allowed the crisp flavour of the arugula and the flavour of raw meat to register on the tongue before its bold sharpness would take over.

Potato gnocchi with hand-chopped veal ragout in Piemonte's way.

Villa Danieli’s gnocchi reflected the ideology that good food doesn’t always need to be elaborately prepared; but should instead focus on quality ingredients. Tender chunks of veal bathed the dish with its intense savoury overtones; while chunks of shaved parmesan counterbalanced with its own intensity and sharpness. The balance of textures and flavours was strangely reminiscent of a good bowl of dry pan mee, yet tasted completely different.

Melting beef cheek, olive oil mashed potato, leeks, and roasted asparagus.

Perhaps what I love most about Italian cuisine is the way it sometimes doesn’t try to impress, but achieves in doing so anyway. The beef cheek raised my brows in pleasant surprise as much as it raised my overall impression on the relatively modest cut of beef. You can simply not go wrong with braised beef, asparagus, leeks, and mash done right, and that is exactly what it was – a simple dish done right.

I just love the way Italians casually enjoy their wine and their red meat and their potatoes – it’s almost as if they don’t realize how amazing their food is, despite its simplicity; and that is perhaps the reason behind my Italian dreams. I just want to enjoy the best of life, without having to make a big fuss about it.

I hadn’t heard much about the restaurant, located at Le Meridien KL, but the little I heard was enough to nurture a desire that eventually led us here. After all, Italian cuisine had a special place in my heart, and frequently manages to find a special place in my belly.

Best bread I've ever tasted

I’ve always thought of bread served before a meal as the means of to placate the wrath of the hungry man; though the bread at Favola served a need beyond mere placation of hunger, though perhaps inadvertently.

Seared jumbo sea scallop with sautéed white mushrooms trifolati and truffle (RM60++)

Our appetizer of jumbo scallops served on a bed of white mushrooms trifolati and black truffles outdid itself despite my high expectations. Fresh and seared to perfection, with plenty of its own natural flavours alongside the intensely pleasurable flavours of mushrooms left us gracing it with our compliments and lavishing it with our highest praises.

Braised beef and potato ravioli, smoked black truffle butter sauce (RM50++)

The ravioli at Favola is a testament that big things do indeed come in small packages. A mere five pieces sad wading almost proudly in a small pool of smoked black truffle butter sauce in a (startlingly ugly) red dish, topped with freshly-shaved parmesan; it was almost as if the ravioli was daring us to find fault with its modest portion size. Biting into one of the slightly-larger-than-a-tablespoon-sized ravioli revealed a flavour so intense I could only describe it as a tongue-gasm. My lady was full before she could finish her fourth piece, and I very happily helped her lap up the leftovers. She attributes her fullness to the intense flavour, though I’m sure that the bread had played an equal role to that end.

Veal ossobuco (RM100++)

“Favola” in Italian roughly means “story”; and I usually like to end my stories with something clever, climatic, or profound. This time, I’ll just end my story, my Favola, with a tip, though anti-climatic: don’t order the veal.

It’s been a good four years, if memory serves, since I came back from India after a 5-month project that I had to undertake at my job. Strangely, of all the wonderful food pleasures that I had experienced there, it was the pub grub that I hold fondly in memory.

Back then, it was unheard of to actually go to a pub with the primary intention of having a good meal; though now such a concept is more familiar, with the advent of the many great watering holes that serve up great food. However, it just wasn’t the same for me. Pork burgers and ribs are wonderful, but you can’t really beat that feeling of well-being from enjoying homely comfort food with a cold beer.

Bintulu belacan fried rice

Comfort food at its best form – fried rice, topped with an egg. Unlike regular fried rice, the fried rice at Beer Belly (located at The Strand, Kota Damansara) is cooked with a belacan from Bintulu – it packs more kick with its stronger flavour. The contrasting sensations between a cold pint of Tetley’s and the spicy-hot belacan fried rice reminds me of a hot shower on a stormy day.

Birmingham Chicken Balti

One unique thing about Beer Belly is that the menu is an evolution of the chef’s (who happens to be the mother of the restaurateur) travel adventures. The chicken Balti, said to be an evolution of Pakistani cuisine in Birmingham, is reminiscent of both Indian and Chinese cooking styles (though more Indian than Chinese).

Beef stroganoff

Beef stroganoff, which is of Russian origin, strangely (and really, I’m not making this up) tasted similar to the murgh makhanwala (butter chicken) that I used to enjoy (too) regularly when I was in India. Tender, aromatic, and full of chunkiness in every serving. Served with butter rice, it’s almost as if my whole experience at Beer Belly was orchestrated to be an echo of my favourite dishes in India.

Comfort food to me is an unpretentious menu that is all about familiarity without frills… and plenty of beer.

It was a quiet weekday mid-afternoon at Sri Hartamas. We had gone a little out of our way to seek out a cosy little cafe. Urban Spoon , it was named; almost cliche, I thought to myself. The neon blue signage did not indicate that it was a cafe that I would normally frequent. However, the moment we stepped in, we took pleasure in the slightly rustic yet contemporary setting. It was to be an afternoon of leisurely dining.

As it would transpire, it wasn’t to be the only time during this visit that initial indications fool me.

Hunger takes hold of me, and I agree to an order of carrot and orange soup – a bewildering combination to imagine. That has always been what I thought of fusion cuisine anyway – strange. The idea of merging two completely different flavours didn’t seem to sit right with me. That is, until I had a taste of what Urban Spoon had to offer. Deconstructing the whole idea of the concept with my own food insights, I would think that it started of as a basic carrot soup. Characterless. Uninspiring. Boring. Breaking convention, onions were added for sweetness and texture, and balanced out with orange for an unexpected twist of sweet-sourness. Bordering between sweet and savoury, in came fresh, chunky shrimp to give the soup its identity without robbing it of its personality.

That, I’d like to think, is the whole ideology behind the fusion cuisine at Urban Spoon. It’s not about taking two heterogeneously-evolved dishes and simply merging them. It’s about taking base ingredients without limiting to the “usual” ingredients, and evolving the dish as a whole.

Magic. I could hardly notice any strange (I would imagine) orange flavour in my savoury soup.

My love for deep-fried battered food has never run very deep; the perfect stage for Urban Spoon’s stuffed jalepenos to take me by surprise. I had imagined that they would be overly oily and taste mostly like batter, but it was the complete opposite. The batter served its purpose – to keep the jalapeno’s flavours locked in; and there certainly is a lot of flavour to lock in. So much sweetness locked within its tender green shell, masking the creeping spicy burn that eventually filled the back of my throat. It’s the kind of spicy that packs a punch and gives you a kick, without robbing you of the ability to feel your tongue. My lovely companion did not seem to enjoy it as much as I did (she’s never been a fan of stuffed chillies of any sort), and I didn’t make much effort to pretend to be disappointed. After all, more for me.

Even their mojitos (my favourite cocktail) couldn’t escape a little reinvention. I noticed strong notes of ginger in my mojito; very pleasantly refreshing. Extra combo points for having it right after a spicy appetizer!

Fish is hardly my first choice of mains when I have the option of beef or lamb; but this time I decided to just give in to the faith that I have for Urban Spoon’s chef, Tawfeeq Seow, whose 18 years of experience (including being an executive chef at the prestigious JW Marriot hotel in KL) clearly makes a testament for itself. While the supremely fresh and immaculately cooked cod is an important base, and the vegetables and trimmings are also very important to the overall impact of the dish, I would have to say that if a single element defines the entire dish, it would have to be the sauce. What initially seemed like balsamic vinegar reduction (yummy!) was in fact far beyond. Hints of cinnamon and spice, among other more subtle notes (super yummy!) prevailed alongside the balsamic base. I would perhaps say this has been the best fish dish I had ever eaten in my life, and I wouldn’t hesitate in ordering it again during my next visit.

I guess it goes to show, that sometimes, you can’t let your first impressions lead your decisions. We have to look beyond the cliche and the quirks. The menu at Urban Spoon goes beyond fusion. I would describe it as “freedom”.

Starting a meal with a fresh oyster topped with luxurious Moluga Caviar and fennel pickled in liquorice-flavoured Pernod definitely qualifies as “wow” in my books. Accompanying that appetizer with a rock oyster drowned in basil-infused Bloody Mary takes it from “wow” to “very wow”. Though I’m not a fan of oysters myself, I couldn’t help but notice that it the appetizer was designed to impress, with premium ingredients but without going over the top in fanciness. Oyster is said to be an aphrodisiac, so that would probably lead to higher chance to impressing even towards the end of the night (or start of the morning)!

Following up the oysters with a soup course really unlocked my appetite. The double-boiled chicken consomme was rendered interestingly, served with prawn and scallop quenelle, enoki mushroom, and tempura baby asparagus. While the accompaniments to the consomme itself were important parts of the package, they didn’t distract me from the appreciation I had for the consomme. Its unassuming outlook belies the fact that the preparation and serving of consomme is beyond simply boiling some ingredients in a pot and then scooping it into a bowl. The fact that consomme cools very quickly demands a little extra thought when serving, and the fact that it’s virtually fat-free means more preparation work. As I (rather quickly) sipped up my consomme, its rich flavours and mouth-feel left me wishing I had dibs on the whole pot. It’s fat-free. Don’t judge me.

I normally don’t take very well to large chunks of uncooked meat, but the next course of tea-smoked salmon sat very well with me. The salmon itself was fresh, but unlike most smoked salmon that I’ve tried, this one actually had a distinct smokey tea flavour. Good enough on its own; but accompanied with salmon roe, Alaskan crab creme fraiche , petit sprouts, and purple potatoes, the contrasting textures of flavours left me feeling like my mouth just had sex. Seriously.

The purposefully leisurely-paced evening peaked with the serving of the main dish of red wine braised ribeye serve on truffle-scented mash and topped with seared foie gras, grenadine onion marmalade, dressed in merlot glace. Translation: tender, rich yummy beefy goodness; fluffy aromatic carby deliciousness; melt-in-your-mouth sweet fatty intensity; and sweet, sweet juices everywhere. While I’m slightly averse towards foie gras (and all renditions of liver), the foie gras completed the ribeye beautifully. No, perfectly . The salty, dense flavours and coarse and firm texture of the ribeye and the sweet, silken flavour of the foie gras are like a yin-yang of perfectly balanced flavours. Honestly, if served foie gras on its own, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it; but this combination completely blew me. Some thing are just perfect together, I guess… which reflects aptly on the theme of Valentine’s Day after all.

And then there’s dessert; but I hardly had the space or the give-a-hoot for it after being blown away dish after dish (except the oysters, because I’m not big on raw shellfish).

While I had my Valentine’s celebration a little early, only time will tell if I will return to pay for a second round. At RM150++ including a cocktail, the almost sexual food coupled with the cosy ambience makes for a Valentine’s experience not soon to be forgotten.

Veni, vidi, Valentine. I came, I saw, I fell in love.

If there’s one ritual I find most therapeutic, I would say that it’s grabbing a few magazines at my nearest Border’s bookstore and tucking myself away in a little corner as I quietly read undisturbed for a couple of hours before picking one or two that I would then purchase.

That’s the thing I love about many of the merchants (also known as BMerchants ) that are participating in the BCard loyalty program . Starbucks, Borders, and the other F&B, service and travel and holiday merchants – most of them give you that feeling of “do what you like”, which gives me that feeling of a home away from home.

It is little wonder that, despite there being bigger and some might say “better” bookstores around, I always return to the same Borders that makes me feel at home. My loyalty is born of the culture they have nurtured in their business. Already having a few BMerchants as an existing part of my lifestyle, it’s a real no-brainer for me to get myself a free BCard to gain further benefit from my regular routine living.

Krispy Kreme - one of the merchants in the growing list of BMerchants

In essence, I present my BCard alongside my regular purchase, which entitles me to points; which I then use to redeem cash rebates or vouchers at the same merchants (which means I have a choice of redeeming products and services that I’m already happy with, instead of useless and irrelevant “premiums” like torchlights and umbrellas).

Though I know of so many people that love to camp in a Starbucks (one of the 47 BMerchants currently participating in the BCard program) , I much rather curl up in a quiet corner of my nearest Borders bookstore and just “B” alone with my magazines.

Roast pork shoulder

Ever picked on a piece of crispy pork skin and wish you could just go out and buy bags full of the stuff? Well, there is hope for all you crispy pork skin lovers out there.  Just follow these simple steps:

1. Organize a Chinese New Year dinner to be schedules at least three days later.
2. Invite friends and family.
3. Go to Aunt Ann’s Roast Pork Facebook page or call Aunt Ann at 016-3313007 and place an order for her home-made roast pork at RM160 for an entire roast pork shoulder (which weighs at least 2kg).  If the crowd is big, consider roast lamb (at RM250, weighing at least 2kg) or some roast turkey (at RM350 for a whole 6kg bird). Be sure to order at least three days in advance, because good meat needs to be sourced fresh and prepared fresh.
   

   Roast lamb

4. Make payment as instructed and collect the roast meats at the agreed time at Vista Kiara (Mont Kiara).
5. Bring the meat home and give all your attention to the roast pork.
6. Remove the ultra crispy  pork skin from the otherwise lean shoulder meat. Enlist help if necessary, but make sure the helpers don’t eat the skin. It’s yours.
7. Once all skin is removed (it falls of easily), bag it for your own consumption.
8. Serve lean shoulder meat and nobody would suspect anything amiss because the lean meat is flavourful and aromatic despite the missing skin.
9. You win. Enjoy your pork skin crackers with bursting fatty juices in every bite at your own leisure when nobody is watching. Consider signing up at the local gym if this becomes a habit.

Disclaimer: May cause instant addiction and other health implications.

Yes, peanut butter. That dense, rich texture that’s both sticky and smooth at the same time; that lingering taste at the roof of the mouth that is reminiscent of its complex flavours; that intensity that borders on both sweet and savoury depending on its mood and setting.

Peanut butter snow pie

It is that near-obsession for peanut butter which makes dive into Gecko Gastrobar’s peanut butter snow pie with outright recklessness. The predictable vanilla ice cream and sweetened condensed milk steal no attention from the peanut butter crumble base that’s made in-house with Gecko’s own recipe. I can only aptly describe the flavour and texture as exactly like Reese’s peanut butter cups (if you’ve never tried any before, you don’t know what you’re missing) except less greasy. Decadent doesn’t even begin to describe this dessert.

Guinness ice cream

McCallan 12-year single malt whiskey ice cream

For evenings when a sugar overload just won’t cut it, alcoholic ice cream does carry a certain charm. Made in-house, the Guinness and the McCallan 12-year single malt whiskey incarnations of ice cream each delivers a duo of sins in a single serving. The Guinness ice cream is as refreshing and roasty as the original drink itself, with that same slight bitter aftertaste that’s contra-intuitively delightful. It’s texture is befittingly like a sorbet, yet somehow it’s subtle complexity doesn’t seem at all out of place.

The rich smoothness that one would expect from a fine single malt such as the McCallan renders well in the ice cream version of this whiskey. While it’s colours are masked deceivingly well in this form, its flavours are not as bashful.

Alcohol rarely fails to delight, especially when sugar join in the fun; but for me… perhaps only me… my thing will always be peanut butter.

Nerotica’s Meatilicious January offerings serves up a healthy amount of sexiness in their 7-course wine-paired menu.

The first part of the prelude to the entrees,  a platter of pork cold cuts including two types of prosciutto tempt the tongue. Prosciutto is a really beautiful, beautiful meat. Uncooked legs of ham, salted and pressed, and then dried in a cold and damp environment, and then aged for up to two years; prosciutto is heralded by some of the most enthusiastic of pork lovers. Smooth to the tongue yet pleasantly resistant to tearing, the salty and primitive pork flavors are almost contradictory with a contrast of mild and intense; even those who are generally averse to raw meat (like myself) would find it perhaps more enjoyable than cooked cold cuts.

The sensuality of the menu doesn’t stop there. The second prelude to the entrees is another raw dish, this time in the form of steak tartare. Essentially finely-chopped raw Angus beef sirloin, anchovies,  and plenty of different herbs and spices, it can be quite an intimidating starter… at first. When I was a child, I didn’t know better and thought kissing was disgusting and I could never like it. Now, well… let’s say I’ve had a little change of heart; and it was the same with the steak tartare. Once I popped on into my mouth, I wouldn’t say it didn’t resemble a very sexy kiss.

With Neroteca’s Meatilicious January menu, the sensuality of uncooked meats may stop at the starters, but its erotic appeal is carried across by a selection of wines that are paired with each of the seven courses. A rustic, home-style Italian meal must always be accompanied by the fluid that causes one to flirt and speak in suggestive tones.

Throughout the seven-course experience (at RM198+) , one would get to savor the entrees of pappardelle pasta with wild boar ragout and stozzapretti pasta with rare salami; and main courses of porchetta, sirlion tagliata, and grilled lamb rack. A 7-course meal to please any carnivore with a taste for various meats in various forms; and enough wine heighten the flavors and arouse the senses.

No wonder it is commonly said that Italians are sexy.

A quarter of a century later, my inquisitiveness hasn’t muted, and I’m still fascinated by the alchemical wonders that take place in the kitchen. While many of us would like to think our own mothers to be among the best cooks in the world, I’ve given in to a different reality.

It was as if a dream that I had awaken into chef Adrian Richardson’s kitchen. It was surreal; partially because the head chef of La Luna (only one of Melbourne’s best Mediterranean bistros) was about to prepare a meal for me; and partially because for once, I wasn’t being chased out of the kitchen.

"When it comes to olive oil, we could all use an extra virgin."

Being a regular face on television, and with his multi-ethnic background, one would expect chef Adrian Richardson to conjure up fancy, almost intimidating meals; but quite contrary. The good chef is extremely proud of his heritage and his Australian meat , while humble in his cooking style.

The good chef begins his demonstration not by trying too hard to impress; he instead tosses up a familiar dish which requires no fancy skills or ingredients. Sauteed squid with spinach – a testament that great meals can come from simply heating up a wok, tossing in a few simple ingredients, and not overthinking things.

While great meal can be accomplished with simple cooking, that does not mean that one should be stripped of the joy of indulging in the intricate. Chef Adrian Richardson’s lamb and spinach filo pie with labne is a complex delivery of flavors and textures, delivered in perfection through his experience and skill. The savory aroma of lamb imbued with herbs and spices, the puffy light filo pastry, and the bed of strained yoghurt presented a spectrum of flavors and textures onto a single platter. From savory to sour, fluffy to creamy, subtle to aromatic, chef Adrian Richardson’s pie delivers a multitude of sensations in a single puffy package.

It’s a crying shame that most of the sausages I’ve eaten in my life come frozen in packets of ten and has more mystery fillers than actual meat. Chef Adrian Richardson completely inverted my initial experience of sausage with my most recent, which he served up freshly made. It had never occurred to me that one can actually make their own sausages at home. Chef Adrian Richardson proclaims that it’s a beautiful thing to kill an animal, grind it up, and stuff it into its own intestine linings. Though the whole idea borders on gruesome, I’d like to think it actually dignifies the animal’s death when you make full use of it; and the good chef would agree. Whatever your sentiments are on the matter, you’d soon forget once you’ve had a taste of the Merguez sausage. Aromatic and piquantly savory, the exciting flavors settle smoothly into the little bed of aoili (which is essentially mashed potatoes with added egg yolks). While couscous is traditionally eaten in North Africa with Merguez sausages, chef Adrian Richardson’s rendition of tabbouleh which adopts couscous as its main ingredient alongside chopped parsley, onions, tomatoes, mint leaves, lemon juice and olive oil makes for a great salad for added dimension of both texture and flavor.

"You can't go wrong with a really good piece of Australian beef."

I would liken a chef to a trapezist, and a steak to a trapeze – the sauce is just a safety net. If a chef is very sure about his steak, he would surely at least consider serving it without any sauce. While some might say it’s best to be safe, I stand by the idea that it is better to amaze and impress by defying prudence. While it may be true that a decent steak tastes better with a sauce done well, a great steak is robbed of its most defining characteristics when served with any condiment but its own juices. While there is and always will be opposing schools of thought on the matter, it goes without question that chef Adrian Richardson serves very good steak, made from the finest Australian tenderloin.

Chef Adrian Richardson serves up the perfect cut.

Chef Adrian Richardson demonstrates that cooking a good steak isn’t rocket science and doesn’t require any fancy methods or lavish ingredients, and I’m left wondering why I’ve never in my whole life (being the meat-lover that I am) never tasted steak quite like what the good chef has served. Lean – my favourite cut – yet almost defiantly tender and offers almost no resistance against my steak knife. Chunky, meaty texture, without too much of a chew, the tenderloin collapses between the grinding of my teeth, oozing out pleasantly startling flavors that I never knew could come from a simple slab of lean meat that had been seasoned with nothing more than salt, pepper, and extra virgin olive oil. I now fear that every future steak experience will be forced to live up to such astronomically high standards or fall into disappointment.

While it is virtually a once in a lifetime experience to be served food that is worthy to be dubbed a testament of a celebrity chef’s best offerings, I am only slightly disappointed that I will probably never be served a meal by chef Adrian Richardson ever again. Through his perfectionism encapsulated in a vessel of practicality, I believe I can replicate this experience in my own kitchen. All I need to do is ensure that I don’t cut corners in my choice of ingredients and preparation. Some day (soon?), I will do it; and as surely as this eventuality will come, I will also be able to be continually inspired and enriched by chef Adrian Richardson’s offerings through his television show Good Chef, Bad Chef on the Asian Food Channel (Astro channel 703).

Though the season may be brief,
It makes for much needed relief,
What then should I anticipate,
When merriment would dissipate?

I don’t dream of Christmas white,
Such things bring not my heart delight,
Perhaps my place is within the dark,
For in the black, I may see a spark.

Darkness taunts the timid and chaste,
Yet heightens the senses of smell and taste,
Alluring, intriguing, with devious charm,
Once experienced, apprehensions disarmed.

Inspired by black, a story is told,
Through food infused with flavors so bold,
I don’t dream of Christmas white,
I but dream of Guinness’ delight.

Bold and strong, yet caramel notes tingle,
Inspiring the season of bells a-jingle,
Food infused with the perfect dark beer,
Making for a Merry Guinness and a happy new year!

Open Guinness lamb shank and mushroom pie

Roasted chicken with Guinness butter

Oysters with Guinness cream

Farmhouse terrine with Guinness mustard

Everyone flocking to see what Masterchef Adam Liaw is conjuring up in his kitchen.

The Guinness-inspired menu for the Guinness Christmas menu 2011 is conceived by Masterchef Adam Liaw.

(Like  Guinness Malaysia’s facebook page to find out where you can have yourself a Merry Guinness with Masterchef Adam Liaw’s Guinness-inspired menu – and loads of Guinness – this festive season!)

There is a certain feeling of well-being that comes in a meal of turkey that I somehow associate to the peace that I used to feel during Christmas. While turkey was never a tradition of my own family, it has always been served in the homes of some friends whose homes I’ve always felt at home in. Perhaps it is by this association that the idea of turkey always delights me.

This year, like the past few years, I will not be visiting old friends in old places; and I will not be having turkey the way I used to. While I’m not looking to create new turkey traditions for myself, this year I departed from the familiar and had my turkey the Frontera way.

Only available from Christmas Eve (dinner) to New Year’s Eve, Frontera’s rendition of a “traditional” turkey dinner is a welcome departure from what I’m used to. Having a preference for breast meat, I usually make up for the innate dryness of the meat with plenty of gravy and cranberry sauce; however Frontera’s version suffered no such problem – the turkey breast was tender and flavorful. The unique flavor is attributed to the mesquite wood used to smoke and barbecue the meat, a style that forms the basis of Tex-Mex cuisine identity.

The cranberry sauce also underwent a little bit of Fronterafication , with the infusion of chipotle (smoked jalapeno peppers). The smokeyness of the turkey and the pepperiness of the cranberry relish gave a little zing to the wing and a little zest to the breast. Accompanied with jalapeno corn bread, candied sweet potatoes, and brocolli topped with chili con queso (peppers with cheese), my turkey meal was certainly far from bland; and though at first I thought the flavors would be harsh and overwhelming, the intense flavors only presented in small notes across the entire platter.

(You can enjoy this meal – pick pumpkin soup or tamale for the appetizer, turkey, fish or beef ribs for the main,  peach tres leches cake or key lime pie for dessert, and sangria or agua fresca for drinks – at RM55++ onwards from Christmas Eve dinner until New Year’s Eve at Frontera Sol of Mexico.)

Frontera’s unique interpretation of a Christmas turkey dinner was certainly full of surprises, and pleasantly so. Rewinding back to the appetizer, the traditional Mexican tamale ‘s mild prelude captured my attention without giving away any hints of what was to come. Tame flavors of banana and chicken leaned closer to savory sweet, and got me wanting for more (which I got, from an unsuspecting neighbor’s plate).

It’s amazing what a little bit of wood and chili can do to an oversized bird. I guess that’s what Christmas essentially is all about – little miracles happening right in front of us, exciting us with the unexpected amidst the traditionally ordinary.

Growing up, tea (the meal) was a regular meal in our household but quite ironically, tea (the beverage) itself was rarely a part of this meal. However, when tea is served, it would usually be the regular garden-variety tea with evaporated milk.

As I grew older and left for college, the practice of having tea never really stuck with me, mostly due to the budget constraints of student life. Throughout those years, my conception of tea was the sugar-loaded copper-colored liquid that the local restaurants would serve.

Eventually, my habit of drinking sugary drinks dwindled, and I began appreciating unsweetened tea, which some (snobby?) tea purists would insist is the only way to drink tea. I would try different varieties of Chinese teas with each dim sum breakfast, and would occasionally sample “premium” flavored teas at local cafes. While I appreciated the Chinese teas, flavored teas never really stuck on me. They just didn’t taste quite right to me, and I never could put my finger on why exactly.

Eventually, I stuck with my Chinese teas during dim sum breakfasts and Chinese round-table dinners; but the tradition of afternoon tea had been reduced to little more than a memory of my growing up years.

It wasn’t until recently that I was re-introduced to the long-lost tradition of afternoon tea; and it was done right with the finest and most luxurious teas in the world from TWG at Sheraton Imperial Kuala Lumpur’s Pavilions Lounge. Among the eight different unique blends of tea served during their sweet afternoon affair, three of the blends are created especially for Sheraton hotel only, namely the Crème Caramel,  Grand Wedding, and Alexandria.

While the Crème Caramel red tea appealed to me with its intense aroma and caffeine-free nature (I’m sensitive to caffeine) and Grand Wedding’s black tea with fruity and flowery after-notes delighted the taste buds, it was the Alexandria’s subtle peppermint and spice flavors and aromas that kept me wanting for more; and so I indulged.

Served alongside a variety of desserts and petit fours, my re-acquaintance with afternoon tea was a delightful one. With a free-flow of sweet treats and teas, it’s not so much how much one can consume at RM38++, but how many varieties of the most luxurious and exclusive teas one can enjoy while letting one’s sweet tooth loose for an entire afternoon. I would go easy on the macarons and scones though, as tempting as they are, and instead sip as much tea as I could.

While it may not be everyday that one would be able to indulge in the finest teas and delectable treats during the mid-afternoon, I can say that at very least, I have finally achieved tea nirvana at Sheraton Imperial’s Pavilions Lounge, even for just one afternoon.

Certainly not I.

At the end of a long work week, I usually find myself in need of rejuvenation in the form of comfort food, and perhaps a cold one. Being the Malaysian that I am, comfort food usually means anything that leaves a warmth in my tummy, from both heat and spices. Dried chilli, ginger, and garlic, cooked with anything; serve it hot, serve it juicy, and serve it with the right beer.

Tiger beer is brewed specifically in Asia to match with Asian food, which goes really great with hot and juicy Chinese-style dishes; but sometimes, it’s really more about the flavor of the food rather than the beer itself; and that’s when Tiger Crystal is ideal. It tastes lighter, which leaves more room for the flavors of the food to dominate, while still having a refreshingly crispy beer to wash it all down – along with all your worries.

(Incidentally if you need a bigger reboot than just washing away your worries with some beer, perhaps you could try winning a getaway on Tiger Crystal’s Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/tigerbeer )

I like to save my European beers for when I’m having my European food, savoring them slowly on a leisurely night; but it’s with Tiger Crystal that I really feel at home just drinking them down bottle after bottle as I wolf down some hot, juicy comfort food.

In fact it wasn’t until the ripe age of about 12 that I “forced” myself to “enjoy” beer. You see, as a boy of Malaccan-Portuguese heritage, it was almost customary for me to learn how to drink beer at a young age. Beer is an integral part of our lifestyle and culture. Though it took me some time, I finally got accustomed to the taste of beer. While I didn’t always enjoy the taste (it gets very harsh when not absolutely ice cold), I loved the tipsiness that accompanied the bitterness; and so I grew to love beer.

Kilkenny - the only beer I could stop sipping long enough to photograph (a very good beer nonetheless)

Fast forward almost two decades later, here I sit, still having a bitter-sweet relationship with beer; but no longer do I seek the same brew that I spent the better part of my adolescence (and adulthood) getting friendly with. My taste for beer has refined over the years, though admittedly my behavior in public after a few pints never followed suit. While I have re-embraced my dislike for certain beers, my love for beer in general has only gotten stronger. While I do not partake of the pleasures of the brew very often these days, it is in the month of October every year that I indulge in the amber goodness of what I consider to be real beer.

Balloons - turns a good celebration into a great celebration.

With the German celebration of Oktoberfest comes the finest brews that these fine people have blessed our bars with. Much like their cars, there is a world of difference between having a local brew and a German brew. I have swayed many a beer hater to the light (dark?) side with a simple offering of a German brew. My personal favorite is the Paulaner (Hefe-Weissbeir), with a mild yet complex wheat flavor and crispy, almost metallic aftertaste. I could drink it all day, though I’m yet to be given the chance to prove it. However since Oktoberfest is celebrated throughout the month (of October – duh!), one simply does not dignify the festivities if one does not at least try the specially brewed Paulaner Oktoberfest Bier, which tastes much like the regular Paulaner wheat beer, but with a pleasantly strong floral note.

Beer + salty food = joy

If there’s any time for a non-beer-drinker to have their minds changed, it’s during Oktoberfest. First impressions aren’t made to last. Neither is good beer. So have it fresh, at least once a year, every year, at Oktoberfest.

My discovery of Fish Castle (certified halal; and located along Jalan SS 21/39, just a few doors away from Starbucks) completely rocked the status quo. They pride themselves on their fish in the form of fish balls, fish cakes, and fish noodles; which they make fresh without the use of any boric acid or preservatives. A little known fact is that they use yellow tail fish, which naturally doesn’t taste “fishy”. Mild tasting yet distinctly full of its original fish flavors, Fish Castle’s fish balls deviate from my expectation of bland fish balls. Its fishy goodness doesn’t stop there, as they also serve fish noodles; that is, fish in the form of noodles. While it is also served with small amounts of soft, translucent vermicelli, it’s a relatively healthy and high protein option. Clever use of fried garlic, seasonings and aromatic oils both the noodles and the soup are full-flavored enough to eat sans the usual pickled green chillies (which incidentally are available if one should opt for it).

Another favorite, albeit at the price of carbo-guilt, is the hand-made noodles. Closely resembling Hakka noodles or kolo mee (I think it leans closer to the latter), the hand-made noodles are aromatic with seasoning and oil, and its silken texture leaves me trying very hard not to swallow it all down in a single slurp. Although the serving is rather small (for RM5.50; and the fish noodles at RM7.50), I am hard-pressed to find fault, considering the quality of the food. When the noodles are unable to satisfy the my raging appetite, a glass of hot barley with soy sheets ( fu cheok ) tops me off, albeit barely adequately. Thick and full of flavor, I dare say Fish Castle serves one of the best barley with soy sheets I have ever tasted (and fairly priced at RM2.50).

If you never really enjoyed fish balls, give Fish Castle the benefit of the doubt. Then perhaps you will agree that the rightful king of fish balls indeed is deserving of its throne.