Etch (Contemporary) - Sydney - hopelessly devoted to you

A Sydney Opera House show has always thrown up a conundrum, because I never know where to eat before the show, especially with so many average options along the promenade leading up to the iconic building. Most places appear to have mediocre food inconsistent with the price, although the price would have a lot to do with the glorious vista of the harbour in front of you whilst eating.

However, a little over a year ago, we stumbled upon Etch, and since then it has become a favourite of ours almost each and every time we have something on at the House.

One major advantage of Etch - besides the location and the excellent food - would have to be its operating hours. This is particularly true on weekdays, when it is open from noon until 11p.m. On Saturdays, it opens at the still earlier-than-normal 5p.m. for dinner. Therefore, one can enjoy a relaxed meal before taking a leisurely constitutional down to the Opera House.

I love the rooster candle holders here, as they provide a quirky touch to the formal dining room, and what an elegant space it is too.

The menu here is always compact but there is a good variety of dishes, and on this occasion, we ordered just a main and a dessert because of time constraints.

Caramelised pork head, roasted prawn, pickled rhubarb, kohlrabi puree

None of the mains appealed to me - and perhaps I've had most of the dishes before - but the sound of the caramelised pork head entree was tempting. However, having such a small serving would be insufficient, so I enquired as to whether this entree could be made larger into a main course. The waiter said no, so I ordered another main, but after our order was placed with the kitchen, he came back to politely inform me that yes, it was possible, but warned me that the richness of the dish may be excessive. I was unconcerned by that so I went with the pork head.

Thankfully I did, because the dish was great. Two big pucks of pork which was - as the chef rightly pointed out - rich and flavoursome. The kohlrabi puree balanced the richness of the meat, and the sweetness of the rhubarb puree lifted the dish. I'm not sure the prawns were a necessity but they were well cooked and gave a contrast to the pork.

Orange syrup cake, poppy seed, orange ice cream

For dessert I ordered the one dish I had never tried, and as with their other desserts, the presentation of this was faultless. Bright and punchy, with lots of contrasting textures and flavours but with a universal theme of orange, this dish was sublime; and to think I tried it last! I remember using orange syrup at university, and the aroma was evident in the cake, which was impossibly moist and full of flavour. Together with the beautifully fragile edible flowers, smooth orange ice cream, and poppy seed ring and cluster, this was a dessert to die for. And now that I've tried almost all of the available desserts at Etch, I can say this is my new favourite, but probably only until next time, when I try something else that I'm certain will knock my socks off.

So once again, an old favourite comes up trumps. As long as Etch remains open, I will always think of it first when deciding where to eat before an Opera House show. Its class, excellent food, friendly service, sublime desserts, and flexible hours will have me coming back time after time. You never know, it may even outlast the Sydney Opera House!

London Eats Part 3 - Yauatcha

It's not working. At all.

It is perhaps because I'm a lapsed Catholic, but my prayers have been unanswered for the past decade. Unlike Finn in Glee, whose prayers to the mighty Grilled Cheesus reaped significant and immediate dividends, my random invocations to the mysterious deity of Yum Cha, the Goddess Xiao Long Bao, has not had the same effect.

And my request has not been too taxing: a fine dining yum cha experience. That is, superb food using fresh and unique ingredients, impressive dishes that are not hackeyed run-of-the-mill, great service, and a decor and ambience to match.

Will my prayers finally be answered 17000 kilometres away in London?

A little research was required to locate the best yum cha in London, and after a bit of reading through various UK food blogs, it was decided that the best choice was the one-Michelin-starred Yauatcha.

Being a fine diner, Yauatcha has a great website detailing the menu and prices, and although it is more expensive, we were willing to pay for innovative dishes and those with a different interpretation. Perusing their online menu, we found dishes like crystal dumpling wrap, winter melon dumpling, king crab dumpling and tobiko caviar, roasted duck pumpkin puff, mooli puff, and chicken and prawn tea leaf roll just to name a few. Their menu is more than extensive, as it's not yum cha only, so dishes such as stir-fry wild prawn with Dragon's Well green tea and braised veal "Momo style" make an appearance along with various congees, salads, and rice and noodle dishes. With such an overwhelming choice of food, we needed to plan ahead to make the most of the experience, seeing it was very unlikely we would return in the forseeable future, being on the other side of the world and all.

Located in the Soho area of London, it took a fair way to trek through the seedy backstreets of adult bookshops, particularly in the wet. Armed with an address, Google Maps, a midday booking, and failing umbrellas, we finally made our way to the incongruous restaurant, which from the outside is quite the looker. The exterior is all glass and a cool cerulean blue, and there is little to indicate a fine Chinese noshery lurked within except for the name. Once inside though, one can immediately see the fantastic decor reminiscent of a trendy bar, with jars and teapots and canisters lined along the walls and in austere cabinets.

Being a fine diner, there are no dim sum dollies pushing trollies around like we have in Sydney. Instead, all dishes are ordered a la carte off the menu, which I prefer for the freshness and temperature of the food. Too often, dishes on trollies are left sitting unordered as they make lap after lap around the dining room, leaving the food at best lukewarm and at worst cold.

After we place our order, three little dishes arrive: two with condiments and one with pickled cucumbers.

It is rather difficult to know what to order in such a situation, because we wanted to order familiar dishes as well as unfamiliar ones to give a balance, but knowing this was the only opportunity to dine here on this trip, we arrived quite ravenous and ready to try a lot.

Char sui bun (£3.50) - 蠔皇叉燒包

The first dish was the ever-popular barbecued pork bun (called char sui bun on the menu), a favourite of K's and one of mine too, and they did not disappoint. The buns were fluffy, light, and not at all doughy or dry, as some can be. The barbecued pork inside was deliciously salty and sweet, and this was one of the best we have had for a long time.

Spice duck wrap with beancurd (£6.00) - 滷水蒸鴨札

The second dish was not something we have seen on a yum cha menu before: spice duck wrap with beancurd, which came as four rolls of duck meat and Chinese mushrooms wrapped in beancurd skin. Despite the sprig of coriander garnish on top being wilted and looking sad, the rolls were delicious, with the duck tender, tasty, and seasoned correctly.

Sticky rice in lotus leaf (£4.80) - 荷葉珍珠雞

The third dish was another familiar favourite: sticky rice in lotus leaf. This one was good with the glutinous rice sufficiently sticky without being overcooked, and the filling was the standard chicken and prawns, but other than that it was unremarkable.

Crystal dumpling wrap (£3.50) - 金瓜風車餃

The fourth dish was the crystal dumpling wrap, a vegetarian delight which looks similar to other non-meat dumplings. The beautifully tender cubes of golden pumpkin and pine nuts encased in a translucent wrap was fresh and scrumptious, with the contrasting textures nicely executed.

Blue swimmer crab shui mai (£8.50) - 蟹肉釀燒賣

The fifth dish was another well-known favourite: shui mai, but with a slight twist, as in the addition of blue swimmer crab on the top. This little extra made the dish one of the more expensive on the menu, at about A$14, but it had to be tried. The shiu mai portion was as good as it gets: plump, juicy, and springily tender; the shreds of crab on top gave it a touch of freshness and oomph. Delicious.

Prawn and beancurd cheung fun (£6.50) - 腐皮蝦腸粉

The sixth dish was rather unexpected, but in an outstanding way. The cluster of prawns and mushrooms wrapped in beancurd skin was deep-fried before being wrapped in luscious cheung fun and chopped into five pieces; it was divine and my favourite plate of the entire meal. The plump prawn meat and morsels of mushrooms were delicious, but even moreso in deep-fried beancurd skin, and with the silky cheung fun wrapping everything up in a neat package, the contrast of textures made my tastebuds dance. The only blemish on the dish was the two rolls were uneven.

Venison puff (£4.50) - 黑椒鹿肉酥

The seventh dish was another yum cha perennial, but again with a slight twist. The dainty char siu puffs with the sprinkles of sesame seeds on top looked familiar externally, but inside, instead of the overused barbecued pork, here we have venison. The venison gave it a gamey and slightly spicy punch which elevated the dish, and the pastry was great as expected. This made me wonder why there are not other meats used in these puffs instead of the tired barbecued pork.

Roasted duck pumpkin puff (£5.50) - 黑椒火鴨金瓜酥

The eight and final savoury dish was the delicious-sounding roasted duck and pumpkin puff. I love duck, but not pumpkin, and K loves pumpkin, but not really duck, so this seemed an ideal trade-off. It was a visually impressive dish as well, with the little puffs actually resembling mini-me pumpkins. The effort in the presentation was exemplified by the puffs sitting on a piece of (banana?) leaf that had being cut into a circle, and the little sprig of herb (coriander?) pinked into the top. They do say we eat with our eyes, so we knew it was going to be delicious, and so it was. The puff was deep-fried to perfection and the shredded duck pieces and tender pumpkin inside was generous and close to genius.

After eight sublime savoury dishes, we were ready for dessert, and our expectations was predictably much higher than when we first sat down. Wondering what they would do to mango pancakes, egg tarts, mango puddings, or anything with red bean, we browsed the menu carefully. After a few minutes, we realised there was not an Asian-influenced or inspired dessert in sight. Even the menu description of the desserts were only in English, whereas the savouries menu had descriptions in both English and Chinese. I guess the Chinese are not really dessert people, but I am glad nobody told me! Instead of egg tarts and mango puddings, there were the usual fine dining desserts of tarts, delices, cheesecakes, rice puddings, and parfaits, which we did not mind one iota. On a side note, there were also a selection of 'macaroons' on offer, a mistake now commonly seen as more and more people pronounce 'macarons' and 'macaroons' the same.

Pear and almond tart with guanaja ice cream (£7.50)

I chose the pear and almond tart, and it looked like it came from a patisserie. It was paired with something called guanaja ice cream, which I am still unclear about. Guanaja is one of the Bay Islands in the Caribbean according to Wikipedia, so I assumed the ice cream was something chocolatey, and it was. I couldn't taste anything out of the ordinary except chocolate, but the tart was moist on top and the base had the required biscuit-y crunch that I love.

Warm vanilla rice pudding with banana sorbet and caramelised pineapple (£7.50)

K chose the ice pudding, which came unusually presented, with the sorbet plonked on top of everything. The rice pudding itself was tasty and well cooked, with the sweetness of the banana sorbet and the tartness of the pineapple proving a nice balance of flavours. The thin ribbon of chocolate was superfluous and incongruous however.

Glass-blowing exercise gone wrong?

K also ordered a latte to go with his dessert, and it came out in this misshapen and slightly grotesque monstrosity; there was nowhere to grip the cup without burning one's hand and he had to wait for the coffee to cool before being able to pick it up.

So has my yum cha prayers being answered? Hallelujah, it sure has! The food is marvellous, being freshly prepared using top ingredients, and the assortment of tried and true dishes alongside the more innovative certainly raises the yum cha bar. The decor is stylish, super cool, and very modern, and in a way reminds me of Neil Perry's Spice Temple (although Yauatcha's sister restaurant Hakkasan is almost a facsimile of Spice Temple). The service is quite efficient and friendly too, and not an English-deficient, pensioner-age server in sight, which makes a welcome change. There was a slight blip in service as the restaurant got busier (we were ignored for about fifteen minutes after we finished our savouries and the table was cleared, at which time we had to ask for the dessert menu), but other than that Yauatcha was a superlative yum cha experience worthy of its Michelin star status. I just hope Sydney is not too far away in establishing something as worthy, because the talent is certainly here.

Last word goes to Pierre, but he couldn't speak (again) after ingesting that fiery chili sauce. Fortunately, he gave it a big thumbs up. Hallelujah!

London Eats Part 2 - Chin Chin Laboratorists

The Camden Markets in Camden Lock is the best and most diverse markets I have visited anywhere, with stores selling everything from the latest fashions to homewares to prestidigitator devices to marijuana bongs. Hell, there is even a shop where people can have garra rufa fish pedicures, where their dead skin cells are enthusiastically puckered off their feet by the eager little devils. Therefore, it is no surprise that these markets is also the home to Europe's first liquid nitrogen ice cream parlour, the bizarrely monikered Chin Chin Laboratorists.

After wondering whether 'laboratorist' is even a word, a quick look on the internet provided the answer: no. Although it is an attempt at naming a person who works in a laboratory, it is a clumsy one and much too tongue-twistery; I prefer the term 'laboratory technician'. 

Chin Chin is not easy to locate amongst the labyrinth of shops, but luckily the presence of two outdoor swings just outside its doors made it somewhat easier. That and Google Maps. The swings are a neat reminder of the fun of ice cream and those innocent days of yore.

With good ice creams pretty darn good these days, we were eager to see if the method of making the ice cream using liquid nitrogen would be any different in terms of flavour and texture. And although it is a bit late getting to the platform - seeing molecular gastronomy has pretty much left the station - we were still intrigued.

When we entered the parlour, I was transported Michael J. Fox-style back to the future to my chemistry days in high school. The room was small and reminiscent of a lab, with massive canisters of liquid nitrogen, temperature gauges, test tubes, beakers, and conical flasks of various sizes and descriptions neatly displayed. There are only two tables available to the customers for eating in, partly because it is small and partly because most of the space is taken up by the preparation area.

The offerings are listed on a whiteboard, and judging by the number of flavours available - a whopping three - it is safe to say this method of preparing ice cream is indeed more labour-intensive than your usual method. There is a heading 'Cakes' on the whiteboard as well, but being just on opening time, nothing was listed on the board for them, so the only choices we had were the ice creams. I was more adventurous and chose the flavour of the week, coffee and cardamom, whilst K selected the safe Valrhona 66% chocolate.

Now that's concentration

I guess the major attraction of a liquid nitrogen ice cream parlour is in the preparation, but I was too busy snapping away with my camera to truly absorb what the 'laboratorist' was doing. It was a spectacle though as one would expect, with the liquid nitrogen fog shrouding the bench in a similar vein to dry ice.

Step one complete

Each ice cream took a few minutes to make, after which we were presented with two messy but decent-sized scoops in cups, ready for the final step.

Ready for the additions

There is a combination of limited sauces (chocolate, caramel, etc.) and sprinkles (peanuts, pop rocks, etc.) which can be added to the ice cream for different textures and tastes, and these are done by the assistant.

The final products: Valrhona 66% chocolate (l), Coffee and cardamom (r)

There you have it, the finished product. The ice creams were not as cold as I had expected, but they were very creamy and had deep flavour. Mine was not really redolent of cardamom, and neither did I taste much, but the coffee flavour was deep and smooth. K's chocolate was great and there was a hint of bitterness that all good chocolate flavours have.

Pierre approves

Overall, we found Chin Chin an interesting concept. Although the ice cream was scrumptious and the theatre in its preparation suitably engaging, it's more of a gimmick than a novel way of serving ice cream. Great fun initially and fantastic to impress and surprise guests with, but the few daily flavours and long queues when it's busy (their website gives this ominous notice: "There can be up to a 25 minute wait to be served on SAT/SUN-We urge customers to visit on weekdays"!) limits its appeal.

The assistant told us they get many customers from Down Under asking when they were going to open a store in Australia, but with the fabulous variety of ice cream and gelato parlours already available here, I'm not sure a liquid nitrogen gimmick would survive in the long term.