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From the ongoing World Gourmet Summit in
Singapore comes a
desperate plea from JULIAN TEOH?.
I was then treated to grand colonial style by the serving wallahs at
Singapore’s famous
Raffles Hotel who dazzled in their costumes as they brought me a foie
gras ravioli and an indecently moist fillet of slow-baked sea bass.
I then had a little too much to drink and chatted happily with a
vivacious food writer while contemplating an Irish blue cheese and a very
Ferran-Adria-esque bitter chocolate mousse sprinkled with sea salt.
Welcome to the World Gourmet Summit (WGS), Asia’s premier food festival
and an excuse for Singaporeans to eat eight meals a day. Which, if you ask
the locals, is only two more than what they normally eat anyway so who’s
counting?
The Summit kicked off on Monday (17.4.2005) with a rather bizarre press
conference at the Grand Copthorne Waterfront Hotel. Peter Knipp, the
co-organiser of the WGS and one-time executive chef at the Raffles Grill,
held court like an Arab potentate.
Hotels Singapore
 |
Grand Copthorne Waterfront Hotel Singapore *****
The Grand Copthorne Waterfront combines elegance in a tropical, resort-like
setting with all the modern facilities of a deluxe hotel. The hotel is
ideally situated on the corner of Havelock Road and Kim Seng Road. Along the
banks of the historic Singapore River, the Central Business District (CBD)
is just minutes away and the hotel is easily accessible to the entertainment
areas of Chinatown and famous Orchard Road. |
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Last Minute Hotels Singapore |
We were then treated to the WGS “Introduction Video”, a study in
professionalism and elegance, save for the soundtrack, which was reminiscent
of an awful 1980s porno movie (so I’ve heard). And after being told there
wouldn’t be any time for the traditional Q&A from the press gallery, a
cynical female journalist sitting next to me remarked, “So this is a press
event without the press”.
But I was thinking, “I didn’t come here for a press conference, I came
here to eat”. And I’ve eaten very, very well indeed.
I remember Knipp’s words at the press conference, sounding for all the
world like a order from Frederick Barbarossa before a particularly bloody
battle with Saladin’s forces: “Tonight is a chance for the Singaporean chefs
to showcase their talent – and they will shine!”
For all the fuss about the overseas master chefs, the local chaps aren’t
too shabby. I remember some wonderful naan from Gopal Singh Bisht (Mirchi
Restaurant) and prawn and pasta curls cooked a la minute by the Copthorne’s
resident chef, Michele Pavanello. And as for fruit and seafood combinations,
mango salsa and otak-otak, anyone? Fresh cooked prawns and watermelon
chunks? Bring it on!
In the interests of research, I saddled up the following morning for a
degustation menu prepared by the two-Michelin starred Kevin Thornton of
Thornton’s Restaurant in Dublin. A quick rundown on the line-up: sea urchin
with sea urchin cream, duo of white asparagus (with white truffle shavings
and a truffle hollandaise) and green asparagus (bavarois with green
asparagus foam), foie gras done three ways (sautéed, terrine, and a truffle
ball), nettle and thyme sorbet with Bombay Sapphire gin, lamb’s loin with
potato galette and wild garlic, chocolate fondant with almond blancmange.
That this man does not rate three stars in the Michelin cannot be
attributed to his food. It was, quite simply, the most consistently strong
degustation menu I have ever enjoyed.
This tour de force ended with the surprise of a multi-layered fruit
popsicle eased out of a test tube. It was all quite amusing, very
mock-scientific but the flavours were again fresh and true. A quick word
with Thornton finds a quietly spoken, humble man with enough talent and
vision to justify an ego the size of the moon. Believe me, this man can
cook.
After a fortifying breakfast of nasi lemak and teh tarik the next day, I
am persuaded to lunch at a new restaurant on the top floor of the boutique
Fullerton Hotel known as San Marco. This site, formerly known as the
Lighthouse, has defied the attempts of Singapore’s greatest restaurateurs to
make anything viable out of it. In its newest incarnation, Italian alta
cucina is sent forth by an enthusiastic young chef by the name of Kelvin
Lee, who did time in Kuala Lumpur before serving with Michel Bras in
Laguiole and the (until recently) three-starred Brothers Pourcel in
Montpellier, France.
Unsurprisingly, Lee’s technique sometimes wanders into Gallic territory
(crayfish cappuccino and emulsion of Veuve Clicquot champagne), but the
flavour, the soul, is unmistakeably Italian. It was enlightening, when I
later spoke with Lee, to see him positively glowing with the pride and
passion he has in his craft. This is definitely a promising chef worth
keeping an eye on.
After my Irish cheese course, I returned to my room stuffed with way too
much foie gras, feeling as if my own liver was about to blow up to the size
of a balloon. Lying on my bed and proofreading this article, I suddenly
started up. The night is still young and I have a couple of bucks left on my
Amex before I completely max it out. I rush out of my room, almost stumbling
as I pull my shoes on. There is still food out there, great food, food that
needs to be eaten. But I can’t do this alone.
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