Reinvented classics and thought-provoking dishes at Bacchanalia
PUBLISHED December 19th, 2013 10:16 am | UPDATED April 14th, 2016 05:52 pm
The uninhabited, drunken revelry that Bacchanalia conjures is a misnomer. The latest see-and-to-be-seen hotspot in town brings the founders’ notoriously boozy pop-up brunch series under the permanent roof of the Masonic Club, a stunning colonial oddity steps away from Funan IT Mall. Yet, Executive Chef Ivan Brehm’s cooking is restrained and tasteful like a teetotaller at Oktoberfest; Head Bartender Mark Thomas’s mixology takes a nerd-like fastidiousness with ingredients and proportions. And the service staff is polished and diligent.
As protégé of accomplished (and somewhat nutty) chef Heston Blumenthal, Chef Brehm’s progressive cuisine is filled with experimental twists and turns. A Cauliflower Gratin ($17) looks nothing like a brown-crusted casserole, but a foamy white soup with no warning of what’s beneath. One swoop of the spoon, and a perfectly flash-fried cauliflower floret, coated with scamorza cheese and nestled in a cloud of milky froth, surprises the palate with multi-layered complexity.
A Salmon Confit ($32) provides zero resistance to the fork, almost soft and rich beyond recognition, enlivened by toasty garlic puree, honey emulsion and a shaved fennel salad. The sous vide machinery – used liberally across Bacchanalia’s dishes (and drinks!) – must have worked its magic.
Even simple bar bites do not scrimp on quality. While Fries ($10) are laced with kombu for little tingles of umami, Falafel ($10) are crisp to a crackle, seasoned judiciously and paired with a tangy tzatziki sauce. They make for good munching as you watch house-made infusions and syrups in all manners of flavour, being mixed up in invigorating combinations – by spiffy bartenders ready for a challenge for a bespoke cocktail, or one of the offerings on the extensive beverage menu. Daisy De Santiago No 2 ($18) is a rum-and-lime concoction that lingers with a whisper of saffron, smartly opening doors for the world’s most expensive spice, beyond the food menu, that is.
Not every experiment gets you optimal results, but for a restaurant that is so serious with what it puts on the plate, duds will find their exit in no time. Foie Gras Satay ($30) is an attempt at a localised flourish on a French classic. However, its satay sauce is so meek it’s almost absent. Steak Tartare ($38) is uncharacteristically predictable, damned by heavy-handed chopping till the beef sits uncomfortably somewhere between tartare and pâté.
But you must try a Tiramisu ($18) that just pops in your mouth (go figure). Save to say that the marsala mouse is smooth and unabashedly rich. It shows exactly the lengths that Chef Brehm and his crew is willing to go to improvise and innovate, to present refreshing takes on classics without mangling their foundations. Bacchanalia is here to stay.
Written by Mr Nom Nom
On this occasion the meal and photos were compliments of Bacchanalia
