Michelangelo’s: Worldly cuisine with a modern flourish
PUBLISHED January 4th, 2013 12:50 am | UPDATED April 1st, 2016 11:58 pm
No, I’m not in the Netherlands. There’s a windmill churning, but all I’m walking through is thumping Holland Village, on my way to sleepy Chip Bee Gardens. I arrive. Am I in some Western country maybe? After all, there are plenty of heavily-accented conversations and friendly cheek-kissing underneath the awnings of this linear gastronomic enclave.
Night falls. The rain is pelting. We settle for the alfresco area of Michelangelo’s, humid from the rain but coolly comfortable, dim from the low-wattage corridor lighting but bright enough to read the one-sheet, pasta-heavy menu. Pasta! From the corner of my eye, I catch a vintage shot of Gianni Versace on the wall. Italy, it must be.
We order a Seafood Cartoccio ($34). When it’s served, we imagine the treasures of the sea, somewhere between Sicily and Sardinia, leaping from the water into a rolling boil on the fishing boat. The next moment, the fresh mélange of clam, mussel, prawn, barramundi and lobster are ready. It is sitting in a clear, sweet broth, with the resonant tang of tomato and dry wine. Arborio rice cooked to a firm bite is thrown in to complete this light but substantial stew, which warms hearts as easily as it wows minds with its dramatic presentation.
Next stop, India. That unmistakable smell of Tandoori immediately hits our noses when a dish of linguine ($24), dyed a phosphorescent orange-red, is set before our eyes. It works surprisingly well, the tomato-based sauce a rich, slurp-worthy foil against the al dente pasta. No wonder the dish has been a mainstay in the 17 years of Michelangelo’s history.
Now for a mystical land somewhere between the US and France. The Duck Confit Salad ($18) combines the classic French preparation of duck with the American penchant for overdressed salads an sickeningly sweet dried fruit (a trinity of fig, apricot and cranberry no less). It’s a competent salad, with the bitter mesclun complemented well with a honey-raspberry vinaigrette and a sprinkling of crunchy pine nuts. If only there was less going on.
This one’s harder to guess, but it’s definitely somewhere temperate. You’d be hard-pressed to bite into the 48-Hour Braised Beef Short Ribs ($44) during the haunting cold of winter. Rest assured, though, as spring is round the corner with those bright accompaniments of snap peas, asparagus and radish swimming in a light broth. The ribs are not caramelized on the outside, nor as fall-apart tender as with most braised-to-death ribs, but its fat still manages to melt in the satisfying chomp of the fleshy, boneless ribs. The dish is like some Japanese nabe without the claypot, some Chinese herbal soup sans the grease or herbs, or some French consommé with more substantial meat. In other words, it transcends space.
And that, my friend, is what Michelangelo does best – it will transport you. Where else in Singapore can you get a wine list more extensive, with more than 1,500 labels stored in an atmospherically-calibrated bungalow room across the street? Where else do you get a dessert menu that brings you on such a world tour, from idyllic France (crème brûlée) to the exotic Middle East (date pudding), from the hills of Siena (Tiramisu) to the streets of New York (cheesecake)?
Before you call Michelangelo’s a victim of fusion confusion, take a shot at its worldly cuisine with a modern flourish. You might end up lost in space. Or even better, lost for words.
Written by Mr Nom Nom
On this occasion, the meal and images were compliments of Michelangelo’s
