Latest review:
The carte blanche and a separate order of quail (and the best dessert I've had in... months? Years? As long as I can remember).
Tempura kale and buckwheat had a delicious, deep savoury flavour distinct to fried offerings from the Brassica family. Buckwheat added some bite and a meaty quality.
Cold cuts wowed with the smoked duck breast, but especially the ham. An INTENSE meaty pork flavour, bordering on almost gamey. The closest I've ever thought of the platonic ideal of pork, or as I could only articulate on the night, "the ham-iest ham".
Following up on superlative pinnacles of flavour, the Savoy cabbage and pistachio took that same Brassica umami and heightened it with a savoury charredness reminiscent of wok hei. The pistachios edged out the sweet savouriness with a salty, briny hit.
Sweet and sour sweetbreads wasn't my thing. Soft and voluptuous lipidity cut through with a balanced sauce.
But what really wasn't my thing was the tuna with cedrat lemon and Jerusalem artichoke. Overwhelmingly citrus peel bitterness to me, drowning the tuna and other elements.
Again. The grilled mullet was magic; intensely flamed and charred exterior to the point of moreish Maillard crispness, but delicately flaking interior. Seafood rice was a wonder for my life of plain white rice. The sorrel leaf on top was impotent and fumbly.
The oft-mentioned quail was a delight, but on a Ratatouille-esque level. The quail with automatic Vin jaune sauce harkened back to my mother's drunken chicken. The toast topped with leek snapped my taste buds back to dim sum restaurants eating zha leung dipped in hoisin sauce.
The pommes boulangère was impressive for what seemed like a gimmick. Crisp potatoes at the top gives way to a soft meld of potatoes and onions, married together by a chicken stock officiant.
The aged duck breast was the role of classic fine dining - simple, straightforward, executed with precision to give you the essence of duck with each bite.
The baked celeriac was... fine. Passable, kissable, forgettable. The addition of pak choi was a bit jarring and irrelevant.
At this point, it should be noted we had several dishes with 'yeast sauce', which amused.
Caramelised milk with olive oil and chilli powder (imperceptible) was a refreshing palate cleanser without being too sweet. A rounded, demure sweetness without sharp saccharine.
The pièce de résistance. The Mayan Red chocolate cheesecake with mezcal caramel and olive oil. There were flaws - overly rich, bordering on dry near the edges, no lightening elements. They don't matter, because the sheer flavour journey this chocolate launched me into was intense. An incredibly complex, dark and fermented tang with earthy hints of coffee emboldened a rich cacao savouriness, salted and sweetened just enough to maturity.
