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Jan 5

Harbourside at The InterContinental

Update: I re-visted in July 2012 and the buffet is still awesome and pretty much the same, minus the price (it's closer to $100 now) but you don't need a whole rundown. Instead, I have a newer set of photos.

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Ok, I just dubbed StraitsKitchen the most awesome buffet in the universe. That title is now taken. Maybe The InterContinental hosts the most Decadent buffet in the universe. Yes, $80 (approximate, based on the current exchange rate) is crazy but you could recoup that in champagne, lobster and foie gras, alone.

I made sure to take advantage of the free flowing bubbly (Moet & Chandon, no generic sparkling wine). I'm stereotyping but I can say with great certainty that the majority of the clientele drank no more than two glasses; it's not a big drinking culture plus that whole "Asian flush" thing. But the waiter will refill as long as you keep downing them, though after the fourth or fifth glass (hey, flutes are small) they do ask before automatically topping off.

Plate one: half lobster (people were seriously grabbing like two whole lobsters at a time-I was very restrained), salmon mousse, scallop of some sort, a circle of foie gras topped with a thin square of dark chocolate and assorted cold seafood.

I enjoyed the chilled seafood station. The middle shelf was filled with lobsters just minutes before.

Plate two: in the back is seared foie gras with a apple chutney (they are obsessed with foie gras everywhere and way generous with it), jamon Iberico (there was a carving station with three different Spanish hoof-on, whole leg hams), peking duck, "surf and turf," a toast with steak, mushroom and lobster claw meat and shrimp tempura.

Plate three: more lobster, shrimp, squid and dried scallop dish.

I also got some sashimi with this round. Tuna, and maybe mackerel. I forget since this was almost a month ago.

Peking duck "action station" with dim sum, soup and assorted self-serve warm dishes in the background.

Plate four: peking duck redux, cashews, a different Spanish ham and French cheese, one was Comte.

I didn't really capture the sheer volume of goodies in the dessert section. As you will note, they had both white and milk chocolate fountains.

Plate five: aqua green macaron, random cake, dinosaur egg-looking goodie, lemon coconut pastry, lime tart and cheesecake in the center. While picking at our sweets, we were kindly informed by our server that the buffet would be closing in ten minutes so we should make a quick final run. 3pm already? I have no idea how three hours passed so quickly.

I probably only sampled 15% of what was on offer. I don't like filling up on pastas or heavy meaty dishes. And I never eat congee, yogurt or granola at breakfast buffets because it just doesn't seem worth it. Oh, or d.i.y. Caesar salad, which seems very popular at Asian buffets.

It wasn't until we left that we realized the jazzy lite music serenading us all morning was actually being played by humans.

Harbourside at The InterContinental * 70 Mody Rd., Hong Kong

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Jan 4

Robuchon a Galera

The first-ever Hong Kong and Macau Michelin guide was released the very week we were in those two places. It’s not as if I was going to rearrange my plans based on this new intel. As it turned out we already had reservations at two two-stars: Yung Kee and Hutong, and more felicitously, Robuchon a Galera, one of only two three-stars in the book (Lung King Heen, whose chef is profiled in this weekend’s Times is the other).

Do you think they’d doll up an entryway at a Parisian Robuchon in this manner? I did appreciate how seriously the Chinese took Christmas.

Anyone who knows anything about this oddly placed Robuchon in the gloriously overwrought, Liberache-style Hotel Lisboa knows that lunch is a staggering bargain. $200+ shark’s fin and abalone chef’s menus would be lost on me. The set lunch provides a sample of what the kitchen is capable of in five courses for a more palatable HK$ 538 ($69). Fewer courses are available for $42 and $54 but why limit yourself? We wanted the full appetizer, soup, fish, meat and dessert experience.

We also wanted the mildy seedy Hotel Lisboa experience, if only for one night, to soak in the ambience…and carcinogens. I would call bullshit on the Times’ currently popular third-hand smoke article, if it weren’t for the headache and chest pain-inducing properties of our room’s ashtray aroma. And then our first-hand smoking (I rarely smoke anymore, though just like not abiding dietary restrictions on vacation I also enjoy a cigarette or two when out of town) only upped the ante. My disappointment at not encountering any of the fabled Russian hookers hooker lingering in the lobbies and casinos was almost mitigated by the bedside wooden console that controlled the lights and played AM radio-quality Chinese stations.

The wine list was crazy. The hefty tome was bereft of bottles under three digits. No one around us even had alcoholic beverages, though. As we discovered on numerous dining occasions, Asians aren’t big drinkers. Even in casinos everyone sipped hot tea rather than booze. With Robuchon doing like the locals would’ve been a wise move. Two cocktails and two glasses of champagne nearly jacked our bill an extra $100 (and I naively said lunch would be my treat).

Apple granita amuse. Yes, that’s dry ice-induced smoke beneath the plate. Very dramatic.

Robuchon a galera foie gras & marinated mushrooms

Lightly smoked foie gras on top of marinated mushrooms with virgin olive oil. Though the thinly sliced fungus takes up more visual room than the curls of liver, the creamy foie gras, with yes, a hint of smoke, was the dominant ingredient.

Robuchon a galera japanese egg yolk ravioli

Japanese egg yolk in herb ravioli, watercress and warm sea urchin in its own juice. This was not my appetizer, but I’m including alternating photos for variety’s sake.

Crab bisque spicy with Espelette pepper under aniseed emulsion. We both chose this saline soup and like pouring the smooth bisque over the foam ourselves. The crab meat-encrusted crackers were a nice accompaniment. I’m not sure what to make of the little blue gem on the tray, however.

Robuchon a galera seafood in coral broth

Scallop, squid and shrimp in coral broth and flavored with basil. I do not know what they mean by coral. You don’t actually cook with those sea polyps, do you? I just realized that I chose two creamy seafood courses in a row. I can’t help liking that rich, delicate combination. Last night I had $16 lobster ravioli at Carrabba’s, which tasted like what you’d expect from an Italian chain restaurant. The truly amazing thing about this three-star seafood medley is that it only cost $14, technically.

Robuchon a galera sea bass wtih beet jus

Back of sea bass on crispy skin with braised fennel and beetroot jus.

Robuchon a galera lamb rack with oriental fragrance

Roasted lamb rack with oriental fragrance, with samosas medley and coriander pesto. This was actually a lot of food, not tiny portions. Normally, I can power through a tasting menu but this lamb was so unctuous and rich that I had to pass off a number of slices to James (no, I can’t just leave food on the plate). What they call “Oriental fragrance” is Indian spicing: garam masala, coriander and cumin. The mini samosas were filled with a cheese-spinach blend. The off-white blob on the left is the famous impossibly buttery Robuchon potatoes that James has tried recreating at home. He ordered the beef because it came with potatoes and he thought he would get these. Instead, our server came over with a big dish of them and doled out a small spoonful on my plate while he received a different style of potato, altogether.

Braised “Wagyu” beef cheek, aromatic pepper with Dauphine-style creamed potatoes. Despite coming in an individual cast iron crock like the mashed potatoes did in Vegas, these were more like scalloped potatoes. James described the meat as tasting like Salisbury steak. The horror. I think he meant the soft texture, which I would call closer to pot roast. That’s what a cheek is like.

Then came the big decision: dessert or cheese? I’d been savoried to death and we had been eyeballing the dessert trolley all afternoon.

I chose baba au rhum, caramel ice cream and a profiterole tower.

I knew there was an insane Willy Wonka-esque candy trolley in addition to the regular dessert cart and started fretting when I didn’t see it being rolled around. It was James who anxiously asked, “Isn’t there a candy trolley, too?” “Yes, it’s coming,” reassured our waitress, laughing a bit. We didn’t want to get short-changed on sugar. It didn’t go to every table, though, which made me wonder if you did have to ask for it. Or perhaps others had already had their fill and didn’t bother.

We shared marshmallows, nougat and a lollipop. The choices were so overwhelming that when it came down to it I didn’t know what to pick.

I thought the padded purse stool was the most unnecessary but appreciated amenity until I discovered the cache of plastic-wrapped hairbrushes offered in the bathroom. I had to grab one because how often do you get a free hairbrush? Now that's a souvenir. At least I didn’t stuff bread into my purse.

Robuchon a Galera * Hotel Lisboa, 3/F, Av. da Amizade, Macau

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Jan 4

Maxwell Food Centre

Due to head colds and bronchitis, neither of us was up for lots of sweaty outdoor dining even though that's what Singapore's famous for. But we had to make at least one hawker stop since eating only in air conditioned spaces would be negligent.
Maxwell Centre is a good standby, easily accessible in Chinatown, with a large selection of well organized stalls. The only problem, a non-problem really, is that even small sizes tend to be hearty so my plans to sample like crazy always get squashed after a dish or two.

I've never eaten real bak kuh teh before (though I made my own version to try and reverse the ill effects suffered by an idiotic attempt at master cleansing) and remembered two women eating bowls of the pork rib tea three years ago, last time I was at Maxwell Centre. I made a mental note to try it if I ever returned. Plus, bah kuh teh is meant to be restorative, filled with lots of medicinal herbs (uh, and fatty meat) so it seemed like perfect sick person food.
I was pleased to note that my version using a mix I bought in Kuala Lumpur really wasn't far off at all. The deep amber colored broth smelled like a Chinese pharmacy (I know, because we patronized a few looking for homeopathic sore throat cures before giving up and visiting a hospital clinic. We now have tons of pink Eu Yan Sang cough relief packets in the medicine cabinet).

The substantial hunks of bone-in pork proved difficult to handle with chopsticks and I'm fairly adept. I was making a splashy mess until I gave up and used my fingers.
One should review individual stalls rather than a hawker center as a whole but I couldn't deduce the names of every stand. This was the bah kuh teh shop, #01-89. The world's biggest bowl of bah kuh teh was cooked in Malaysia a few months ago, and the pictures actually provoked a rare audible chortle from me. There's something so very Asian about such food follies.

James thought he ordered mee goring or something similar from an Indian-Muslim stall but ended up with roti john. I'd always wondered what the strange minced lamb sandwich was like. I still don't know because I didn't taste any. The sweet and sour sauce, kind of like an orange au jus, freaked me out a little.

Round two for me was carrot cake, black (as opposed to white, which was also available and equally popular) from sweet soy sauce and stir-fried with egg and scallions in what I'm pretty sure is lard. It's like char kway teow but with cubes of grated radish and rice flour instead of noodles. No one thinks carrot cake is healthy, but the sweet, starchy and oily combination is irresistible.

Obviously, this isn't American-style carrot cake, but radish, you know, the type used in turnip cakes. Carrot? Radish? Turnip? It's so confusing. Once again, I couldn't determine the name of this stall.
James ordered chicken curry noodles from Hock Hai (Hong Lim), a stand with a name and lots of press clippings. To me, this is laksa. In fact, it's just like the first laksa I ever had, the one that started my obsession. In the mid-'90s my favorite lunch spot, Taste of Bali, was run by Filipinos and made a laska with chicken. Given the cultural mishmash and that Portland, Oregon isn't exactly a Singaporean hotbed, I didn't think it was necessarily authentic but I loved it. And the owners actually noticed my absence when I moved to NYC, asking my friend what happened to his "jolly companion." I hope jolly wasn't a euphemism for fat.
Over the years, I've realized that laksa in all its regional guises, doesn't generally contain chicken but shrimp or fish instead. Well, Sarawak laksa uses poultry so now I'm just confused. Apparently, chicken laksa is just called curry noodles even though to me it's the same thing (cue the angry corrective commenters). Ok, the potatoes aren't laksa-like at all but the fried bean curd strips and fish cake are. This was coconut milky and had that appropriate throat-tickling amount of spice. I was way too full to eat more than a few spoonfuls of this, unfortunately. (12/2/08)

Jan 3

3 Comments

Buttermilk Channel

Sometimes things fall into place; often they don’t. New Year’s Eve, much like Fourth of July and Halloween, always end up lackluster because I can’t be bothered to make plans. That why for the dawn of 2008, I made a concerted effort to get out of town and randomly rang in the new year in Toronto. This year I was still recuperating from vacation hangover and wasn’t feeling motivated to come up with anything monumental for December 31.

It was too icy and cold to take chances on Williamsburg where vague parties of friends of friends are always an option and where I frequently end up drunk and eventually angry over the inescapable ‘80s music (Nu Shooz will always set me off guaranteed). So I kept it local, trying to avoid ridiculous prix fixes (even freakin' Marco Polo was throwing a $125 per person fete) and attempting to find a free table anywhere without reservations.

Chestnut was hopelessly full. I wasn’t even going to bother with newish Smith Street darlings like Char No. 4. I had put Buttermilk Channel in that same camp, but decided to check anyway since it’s only three blocks from my apartment. It was hopping at 9:45pm, every space occupied, and then miraculously, two high chairs were open at the end of the bar. Perfect. Maybe that bodes well for 2009?

I didn’t bring the new camera because I know myself too well and feared an inebriated dropping, and sure enough, my purse hit the ground at the end of dinner despite the nice bag hooks beneath the bar. A cocktail that blended rye with vanilla liqueur and bitters, whose name I forget (it contained a woman’s name) got me started on the path to a more festive mood. I stuck with wine the rest of the evening, misguidedly believing that I’d suffer fewer ill effects than with the harder stuff.

Popovers with honey and large flakes of sea salt. They don’t look like much, but sweet, salty and starchy rarely disappoints.

I normally steer clear of entrée salads, they always seem too chicken Caesar, chain restaurant-y. But I’ve been making exceptions more and more (most recently with the luxurious lobster salad at Irving Mill). Buttermilk Channel’s rendition with tender lamb and long leaves of romaine was substantial and beefed up with cauliflower, olive bread croutons, a soft-yolked egg and fried capers. I might’ve preferred the cruciferous vegetable to be fried instead of the capers since the hot oil treatment barely registered on such a tiny subject.

Name-checked Schaller & Weber bratwurst on a roll. I only tried the fries, which were the way I like them: skinny and crisp.

I’ll definitely go back for a more complete meal. The service was gracious and professional despite the holiday frenzy and the food (what little we sampled) was high caliber for this unloved strip of lower Court Street (eh, for upper Court, too). I'll still patronize chimichanga-slinging Mezcal's on the same block, though.

Buttermilk Channel * 524 Court St., Brooklyn, NY

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