El Celler de Can Roca (date first published, 31/12/2010)
Fifty metres down the road from El Celler de Can Roca is a Honda garage, on two sides of the restaurant are car parks and elsewhere in the neighbourhood, it is as far as we can tell, nondescript housing. Put another way, the venue itself is nowhere special, an ordinary suburb of Girona, but as a restaurant, as we were soon to find out, it's a place that serves very special food indeed.
The venue is worth noting because it is a trait that all the top restaurants seem to share: Costa Brava neighbour El Bulli is in the middle nowhere and totally inaccessible, Noma may be in Copenhagen but it's not even in the fashionable part (to the extent that Copenhagen has one) and The Fat Duck is in Bray; not a Manhattan or Mayfair in sight.
The most likely explanation is that property rental values in the most fashionable parts of the most fashionable cities result in restaurants that are more inhibited, forced to play a safer hand because they have to guarantee a full service every night to balance the books at the end of the month. Admittedly, even out of town, a restaurant has to make money to stay in business but with a lower break even point seems to come the freedom to operate the restaurant to an ideal rather than follow the commercial imperative.
The other factor about lower property rents in less fashionable areas is that space is less of a premium which means that restaurants can occupy more square footage which in turn has huge implications not only for the diner but also the kitchen. Think of those Parisien restaurants and how closely the tables are squashed in. Even the Mayfair restaurants are, for commercial reasons, required to have you sitting really quite tightly together; in Girona, this simply isn't an issue. In fact, the space that Can Roca operates from is nearly as stunning as the food itself and significantly enhances the overall experience.
From the outside, it's difficult to visualise the restaurant. There's some wood panelling around an entrance to an alleyway that leads us to somewhere and there's a long wall decked in climbing greenery that prohibits a better look at what's inside. From the back, we can see above the wall the top of a grand house against a backdrop of a brilliant blue sky but it doesn't prepare us for what's inside.
Heading up the alley we're totally excited and on reaching the top, find ourselves in the courtyard of the building. On our left hand side is the old house that we saw peeking above the wall, to the right is a single story ultra modern glass and stone construct and connecting them is more of the wood panelling of the type seen earlier. It's not clear where the door is and we wonder if we've strayed into their back garden rather than the restaurant. The wood panelling looks our best bet and we make our way over; we find the door.
The place has a sense of calm to it and radiates that to its guests. There's almost no one around, even inside the restaurant, and we wonder if we've got it wrong and they're closed or something. No, they're expecting us and show us to our table. Despite the fact it's 1pm, we're the only guests in the restaurant, it's totally weird.
The venue is worth noting because it is a trait that all the top restaurants seem to share: Costa Brava neighbour El Bulli is in the middle nowhere and totally inaccessible, Noma may be in Copenhagen but it's not even in the fashionable part (to the extent that Copenhagen has one) and The Fat Duck is in Bray; not a Manhattan or Mayfair in sight.
The most likely explanation is that property rental values in the most fashionable parts of the most fashionable cities result in restaurants that are more inhibited, forced to play a safer hand because they have to guarantee a full service every night to balance the books at the end of the month. Admittedly, even out of town, a restaurant has to make money to stay in business but with a lower break even point seems to come the freedom to operate the restaurant to an ideal rather than follow the commercial imperative.
The other factor about lower property rents in less fashionable areas is that space is less of a premium which means that restaurants can occupy more square footage which in turn has huge implications not only for the diner but also the kitchen. Think of those Parisien restaurants and how closely the tables are squashed in. Even the Mayfair restaurants are, for commercial reasons, required to have you sitting really quite tightly together; in Girona, this simply isn't an issue. In fact, the space that Can Roca operates from is nearly as stunning as the food itself and significantly enhances the overall experience.
From the outside, it's difficult to visualise the restaurant. There's some wood panelling around an entrance to an alleyway that leads us to somewhere and there's a long wall decked in climbing greenery that prohibits a better look at what's inside. From the back, we can see above the wall the top of a grand house against a backdrop of a brilliant blue sky but it doesn't prepare us for what's inside.
Heading up the alley we're totally excited and on reaching the top, find ourselves in the courtyard of the building. On our left hand side is the old house that we saw peeking above the wall, to the right is a single story ultra modern glass and stone construct and connecting them is more of the wood panelling of the type seen earlier. It's not clear where the door is and we wonder if we've strayed into their back garden rather than the restaurant. The wood panelling looks our best bet and we make our way over; we find the door.
The place has a sense of calm to it and radiates that to its guests. There's almost no one around, even inside the restaurant, and we wonder if we've got it wrong and they're closed or something. No, they're expecting us and show us to our table. Despite the fact it's 1pm, we're the only guests in the restaurant, it's totally weird.
As we're shown to our table we are totally blown away by the restaurant dining area, it's like nothing we've seen before. It comes back to what we've already discussed on space - they've got it, a lot of it, and they've used it well. This modern wing attached to the old villa has clearly been purpose built and combines simplicity of design, sense of purpose and harmony of integration. You feel the space could be many things, a health spa perhaps, a wing of the Museum of Modern Art, a top end design studio, but as a restaurant dining area, it stands alone in our experience.
The shape needs to be considered first. It's triangular with a central atrium where silver birch trees grow with the interior space being the three sides of the triangle enclosing the atrium. Of these, two are given over to the restaurant and one to an after dinner lounge area. The triangle shape lends itself to a single main pathway hugging the glass wall of the atrium with the tables lining a larger strip that hugs the exterior walls. No more than two tables are in proximity without a waiter station between them. The totality of this makes for a brilliant dining concept: huge spacious tables for the diner, privacy of your area without blocking the atmosphere from the restaurant, the main walk way set apart from your table so that waiters are never brushing by you as they deliver the orders and the proximity and quantity of the waiter stations means that staff can do their job in the most efficient manner possible rendering service completely unobtrusive.
The shape needs to be considered first. It's triangular with a central atrium where silver birch trees grow with the interior space being the three sides of the triangle enclosing the atrium. Of these, two are given over to the restaurant and one to an after dinner lounge area. The triangle shape lends itself to a single main pathway hugging the glass wall of the atrium with the tables lining a larger strip that hugs the exterior walls. No more than two tables are in proximity without a waiter station between them. The totality of this makes for a brilliant dining concept: huge spacious tables for the diner, privacy of your area without blocking the atmosphere from the restaurant, the main walk way set apart from your table so that waiters are never brushing by you as they deliver the orders and the proximity and quantity of the waiter stations means that staff can do their job in the most efficient manner possible rendering service completely unobtrusive.
As for design aspects, we wouldn't be surprised if the whole place had been a giant experiment in Feng shui, and more remarkably, one that had in fact worked. The trees in the atrium area are of course nourished by soil that gives rise to a natural brown 'carpet'. But then, as you sweep your eyes from the outside in, the hardwood floors pick up the brown and the scheme runs yet further with actual brown carpets under the tables which means the continuity of colour unifies the outside and inside to a single space. And with the colour schemes of natural wood, bright white, and flashes of green from the internal atrium and the external wall climbing plants, not to mention the significant effect of sunlight that the open design allows, the whole place has the feeling of a relaxing and natural retreat.
Before we move to the food, a quick word on the wine lists just because this in itself was amusing. So substantial are the two books that make up the wine list (one red one white of course) that they are not carried over to the table but wheeled over because of their weight. Our own choice of wine was simplified by ordering the tasting menu and therefore we opted for the suggested paired wines but it was fun seeing the books just the same.
Part 2: snacks
Before we move to the food, a quick word on the wine lists just because this in itself was amusing. So substantial are the two books that make up the wine list (one red one white of course) that they are not carried over to the table but wheeled over because of their weight. Our own choice of wine was simplified by ordering the tasting menu and therefore we opted for the suggested paired wines but it was fun seeing the books just the same.
Part 2: snacks
Can Roca still offers an a la carte menu as well as a large and small tasting menu; we opted for the large tasting menu (Feast menu priced at €145) since eating here was the sole purpose of our journey. We opted for the paired wines which seemed pretty reasonable at €65.
However, before we had even decided on the feast menu, a collection of 'snack' dishes (their term) arrive. Many of them were remarkable masterpieces in their own right and we show them in full below before moving on to the main menu items.
Having eaten at Noma where our first course was already waiting for us in a vase of twigs on the table, we're little surprised when they bring to the table a Bonsai tree though we're hoping we're not going to have to eat the whole thing. No. Hanging from the branches are caramelised olives which are absolutely superb. I've never really been a fan of olives finding them often too sour. I probably have to amend that now and say that I'm not a fan of the poor quality olives that are more prevalently served in the UK; the olives here though were just fantastic with the quality shining through. Furthermore, the caramelisation provided both a satisfying textural crunch and a balancing sweetness making this a great tasting as well as a visually playful start.
One tip though, in your excitement, don't forget to remove the steel hanging hook or you could get a bit more crunch than you bargained for.
However, before we had even decided on the feast menu, a collection of 'snack' dishes (their term) arrive. Many of them were remarkable masterpieces in their own right and we show them in full below before moving on to the main menu items.
Having eaten at Noma where our first course was already waiting for us in a vase of twigs on the table, we're little surprised when they bring to the table a Bonsai tree though we're hoping we're not going to have to eat the whole thing. No. Hanging from the branches are caramelised olives which are absolutely superb. I've never really been a fan of olives finding them often too sour. I probably have to amend that now and say that I'm not a fan of the poor quality olives that are more prevalently served in the UK; the olives here though were just fantastic with the quality shining through. Furthermore, the caramelisation provided both a satisfying textural crunch and a balancing sweetness making this a great tasting as well as a visually playful start.
One tip though, in your excitement, don't forget to remove the steel hanging hook or you could get a bit more crunch than you bargained for.
The next snack follows the cocktail theme: forget champagne truffles, here we have a Bellini bombon. Brought to the table on ice, pop the whole thing in your mouth and the thinnest of milk chocolate layers gives way to flood your mouth with Bellini. The only real shame of this dish was that they only served us one each! Could happily eat a mountain of these.
Two snacks are then brought to the table at the same time, 'chips and chicken cracker' and 'Anchovy bones'. We started with the chicken chips which were so thin they were barely there. Cleverly done but the taste was mild and we moved on with little comment between us. The anchovy bones though were a different matter.
The anchovy bones also came with seaweed and both were done in tempura. Packed full of umami flavours, super light and crisp, a taste of the sea too with the saltiness and seaweed, the sea connection is further emphasised through the clever presentation on netting and wood making the provenance unmistakable.
The tapas continued with a truffle brioche and a escudella which we're told is a typical Catalan soup and is translated on the menu we later receive as pot au feu broth. The truffle brioche, to be eaten in one, presented an intense truffle hit while the escudella offered a comforting rich and meaty broth.
The final two snacks came out together. On the spoons is a smoked herring and caviar omelette, and the small wooden serving trays is a pigeon parfait. The herring omelette was fantastic, bursting in the mouth to releasing caviar so that the whole omelette emulated a piece of caviar in itself. The pigeon parfait (also described by the waiters as pigeon bombons with sherry wine) was also delicious.
With the snacks now having come to an end, we already knew that this would be a special meal.
Part 3: the menu
Part 3: the menu
There was only the smallest of gaps between the snacks finishing and the menu food starting. The first dish is brought to the table as a bowl covered by a glass dome like lid and inside, you can see only the outline of food given a haze of smoke waiting to escape.
The food itself is Escalivada which is a typical Catalan dish of grilled vegetables. The vegetables in question here are eggplant, pepper, onion and tomato, presented in this instance with anchovies and 'smoke of ember' (Escalivada itself means to cook in hot ashes). Traditionally, the vegetables would be sliced after the grill and served with meat but here they come as complete parcels of flavour.
When the lid is lifted, the smoke hits you giving you a big aromatic hit of the smoke from the grill. The consomee is pepper like but viscous rather than thin as its appearance might suggest while the vegetables themselves burst flavours in the mouth. We debate whether they used a spherification process of sorts to bundle the essence inside a skin. We're not sure, we don't think so but there's a lot more than just grilled vegetables going on here.
At this point we remain the only diners in the restaurant which feels a little strange. People start to arrive shortly after and the place does fill up with a mix of young to middle aged people, all with a very casual sense of dress (Marcus Wareing would not have approved) leaving us feeling quite smartly attired. Had it not been for some local politicos in suits, we might have even been the smartest people there.
The paired wines are now also being served and we're feeling relaxed, happy but also excited. The quality so far has been exceptional and we're intrigued with what's to come.
The food itself is Escalivada which is a typical Catalan dish of grilled vegetables. The vegetables in question here are eggplant, pepper, onion and tomato, presented in this instance with anchovies and 'smoke of ember' (Escalivada itself means to cook in hot ashes). Traditionally, the vegetables would be sliced after the grill and served with meat but here they come as complete parcels of flavour.
When the lid is lifted, the smoke hits you giving you a big aromatic hit of the smoke from the grill. The consomee is pepper like but viscous rather than thin as its appearance might suggest while the vegetables themselves burst flavours in the mouth. We debate whether they used a spherification process of sorts to bundle the essence inside a skin. We're not sure, we don't think so but there's a lot more than just grilled vegetables going on here.
At this point we remain the only diners in the restaurant which feels a little strange. People start to arrive shortly after and the place does fill up with a mix of young to middle aged people, all with a very casual sense of dress (Marcus Wareing would not have approved) leaving us feeling quite smartly attired. Had it not been for some local politicos in suits, we might have even been the smartest people there.
The paired wines are now also being served and we're feeling relaxed, happy but also excited. The quality so far has been exceptional and we're intrigued with what's to come.
Artichoke, foie gras, orange and truffled oil follow. The foie gras is a foie gras cream that can be seen filling the bowl in the picture below. It's not fully liquid, more mousse like in texture. The confit artichoke married remarkably well with the foie gras and we were surprised and delighted at how well this dish came together.
Charcoal grilled king prawn with acidulated mushroom juice (with ginger and citrus) followed. We've so often said that prawn dishes are 'samey' with chefs struggling to do anything different with prawns beyond the grill but this was very different indeed. While the prawn physically dominates the bowl, it is the mushroom, ginger and citrus that provide real punch to the flavours (together with the smoking) providing something more than just a well cooked prawn. Again, lots of earthy flavours here which has been something of a theme going through the food so far.
Our overall verdict of the king prawn was 'phenomenal'. As well as the flavours and textures, the dish had great 'length' with the flavours staying in the mouth long after swallowing. The ginger and citrus too wouldn't always hit immediately with each mouthful but would often kick in later in the tasting allowing the dish to evolve in the mouth.
Our overall verdict of the king prawn was 'phenomenal'. As well as the flavours and textures, the dish had great 'length' with the flavours staying in the mouth long after swallowing. The ginger and citrus too wouldn't always hit immediately with each mouthful but would often kick in later in the tasting allowing the dish to evolve in the mouth.
Our next dish is an onion soup with Crespia walnuts and Comte cheese. The plate as it arrives at the table is already a work of art. The onion soup is dark and intense at the base of the bowl with a treacle like texture, augmented with wisps of greens and walnuts. The Comte cheese is poured on top at the table. The nuts add more to texture than flavour but the flavours from the onion and cheese are intense and the length of the dish is again impressive. We're thinking that this could be our favourite dish so far.
What arrives next is yet another visual masterpiece, in some ways simple but utterly brilliant. Described as sole, olive oil and Mediterranean flavours, we're not sure what to expect but are blown away when it arrives. On a rectangular piece of marble, a sole fillet lines up parallel with one side with five emulsions smeared perpendicular to the length of the fillet. The five emulsion flavours are fennel, bergamot, orange, pine nuts and green olives; our waiter describes this combination as the Mediterranean light. We're advised to start with the fennel and work our way to the top.
The dish tasted as good as it looked. The emulsions were beautiful and with the fish of course perfectly cooked (over charcoal), what a delight this was. It's so memorable as a dish because it looks so stunning. A simple idea yet brilliant. And with the five emulsions, the flavour profile changes as you progress through the dish; genius. At the end of each emulsion smear is the smallest portion of the physical of what the emulsion is. On the olive emulsion however, it clearly wasn't a real olive and we assumed it was a was a spherification, it wasn't, rather, it was a crystalline candy casing with olive oil inside; stunning.
The dish tasted as good as it looked. The emulsions were beautiful and with the fish of course perfectly cooked (over charcoal), what a delight this was. It's so memorable as a dish because it looks so stunning. A simple idea yet brilliant. And with the five emulsions, the flavour profile changes as you progress through the dish; genius. At the end of each emulsion smear is the smallest portion of the physical of what the emulsion is. On the olive emulsion however, it clearly wasn't a real olive and we assumed it was a was a spherification, it wasn't, rather, it was a crystalline candy casing with olive oil inside; stunning.
We're making good progress through the meal now, aware that we have had plenty of food but not obscenely full that hinders are our enjoyment of the prospect of more food to come. The environment continues to feel tranquil despite the fact that the restaurant is now mostly full. The trees are dropping their leaves on the ground and casting long shadows by the now low winter sun leaving us with a feeling of utter contentment as we await the remainder of the meal.
Baby squids with onion rocks follows (mixed with squid ink, potatoes and seaweed). Following our initial tastings of this dish, we both felt that this was our least favourite dish of the day thus far. As we progressed through, we both warmed to it more though given the brilliance of everything we had eaten, this was not not one we'll remember. I guess it just didn't offer the surprise or wow factor that almost every other dish so far had. We thought that our squid at Rafa's had been better (that was after all the best squid ever) but here the dish overall lacked the depth of flavour that we had up till now experienced on each and every plate.
Baby squids with onion rocks follows (mixed with squid ink, potatoes and seaweed). Following our initial tastings of this dish, we both felt that this was our least favourite dish of the day thus far. As we progressed through, we both warmed to it more though given the brilliance of everything we had eaten, this was not not one we'll remember. I guess it just didn't offer the surprise or wow factor that almost every other dish so far had. We thought that our squid at Rafa's had been better (that was after all the best squid ever) but here the dish overall lacked the depth of flavour that we had up till now experienced on each and every plate.
Red mullet stuffed with liver and served with suquet (Catalan seafood stew), potato gnocchi and lard followed. This was a fish that let you know it was a fish, tail still on and a pale texture to the flesh. We surmised that the fish was cooked sous vide given the transparent quality of the meat.
The lard meanwhile can be seen as a sheen on the soup. This dish took us right back to the deep flavour zone with not only the fish elements but the gnocchi too. This dish heaped with plenty of flavour worked amazingly well but in the kitchen of less skilled practitioners could have gone horribly wrong.
The lard meanwhile can be seen as a sheen on the soup. This dish took us right back to the deep flavour zone with not only the fish elements but the gnocchi too. This dish heaped with plenty of flavour worked amazingly well but in the kitchen of less skilled practitioners could have gone horribly wrong.
Billed as steak tartare with mustard ice cream, we wondered what one of the world's best restaurant would make of a classic steak tartare dish: the answer is, something special. The menu we later received listed the full additions: spiced tomato, caper compote, pickles and lemon, hazelnut praline, meat bearnaise sauce, Oloroso-sherry raisin, chives, Sichuan pepper, Pimenton de La Vera (D.O.) smoked paprika and curry, small scoops of mustard ice cream and mustard leaves.
The result was again nothing short of phenomenal. You're advised to start with the chive and work down, and of course, as you do progress down the length of the tartare, the ingredients (and so flavours) change with every bite. By the end, you're hardly eating the same food you started. None of the flavours overpowered any other and the dish was balanced despite the range of contributory ingredients. We were both blown away.
The result was again nothing short of phenomenal. You're advised to start with the chive and work down, and of course, as you do progress down the length of the tartare, the ingredients (and so flavours) change with every bite. By the end, you're hardly eating the same food you started. None of the flavours overpowered any other and the dish was balanced despite the range of contributory ingredients. We were both blown away.
The last of the savoury dishes was lamb with sweet potato and tangerine. The first thing you notice is how aromatic the dish is, something that had been true of almost all the dishes that day. Then, you cut into the lamb and see how easy it pulls apart to reveal the succulent meat inside. It looked and had the texture of confit lamb though were sure the cooking process was considerably more complicated than that and we commented at the time that this might have been the best lab we had ever tasted. We had already seen that we didn't need a knife to cut this and you hardly needed to chew it either, rather, just let it dissolve on your mouth. With the reduced lamb jus, this was again exemplary. The lamb crackling though didn't really work with more chew than crack but this little mattered when the lamb itself was such a masterpiece.
Having blown us away with the savouries, we wondered what the sweets would bring; the menu description 'Green colourology' offered few clues. This though was more of a pre-dessert, a little palate cleanser: avocado, Chartreuse candy and eucalyptus ice cream together with mint, basil and some green apple. Texture too: there's soft, crunchy and chewy all there and once again, hugely aromas. It did the job exceedingly well and shamed the mango-passion fruit juice cleanser we had been served at Restaurant Gordon Ramsay a few days earlier.
Penultimate dish, we have 'lemon skin-distillate sorbet' with lemon cake, lemon cream and milk ice. The milk ice was reminiscent of coconut sponge at El Bulli which there, counted as a course in its own right, and had the texture of snow, disappearing in the mouth to nothing. The lemon components offered interesting takes on multiple expressions of lemon and was as fresh and light as it sounds in description.
The final dessert was also totally amazing being a vanilla reconstruction. In the picture below, you can see in the distance concentrated vanilla ice cream on vanilla cake. The idea of the combined ingredients in the foreground was to create the same taste without using vanilla. It's analogous to colour composition and the idea that red + green = yellow, so too does the kitchen work off flavour maps. Here we have caramel, cocoa, liquorice and black olive to equal the taste of vanilla. A genius dessert and possibly the plate of the year we thought.
Following the dessert, we retired to the lounge on the third edge of the triangle for petits four and whisky. Their after dinner drink range is impressive as is the bar itself, showcasing a floor to ceiling glass wall of bottles. We've rarely seen a bar this well stocked of whisky since i) home and ii) Scotland. They even had Glenfarclas 1992 and 1994 family casks at reasonable prices which we've rarely seen out and about. A truly comfortable way to end the meal.
This was by any standard a truly great meal. There was no plate that failed to work. These were dishes that really engaged. The presentation of the food throughout was undoubtedly art, with the vanilla dessert perhaps a Jackson Pollock. There was almost always intense aroma too. On taste, the depth of flavour was astounding as was the length of taste, while the conception of most of the food was highly original. What's not to like?
What's more, they continue to have an a la carte menu and so thrilled were we by what we had eaten on the tasting menu that our immediate reflection was to desire all the things that were not. El Bulli was a fantastic and challenging meal but we would not want to eat it or there more than once a year, it's a food marathon. Can Roca offers a composed meal with the natural order of start to finish, light to heavy giving you something you can relate to while giving you food experiences that are totally original. We felt that we could eat the weekly and not get bored.
What's more, they continue to have an a la carte menu and so thrilled were we by what we had eaten on the tasting menu that our immediate reflection was to desire all the things that were not. El Bulli was a fantastic and challenging meal but we would not want to eat it or there more than once a year, it's a food marathon. Can Roca offers a composed meal with the natural order of start to finish, light to heavy giving you something you can relate to while giving you food experiences that are totally original. We felt that we could eat the weekly and not get bored.
In the San Pellegrino list, El Celler de Can Roca moved up from fifth in 2009 to fourth in 2010 (displacing Mugaritz) but on the basis of our meal there, we think it can move yet higher. Could it take the number one spot? Quite possibly. When we posted on The Fat Duck, we hadn't then eaten at Can Roca but it was what we had in mind when we said that if TFD doesn't move forward it will relatively slide backward. El Bulli of course has taken itself out of the running by closing down in 2011, so will it be Noma vs El Celler de Can Roca battling it out for the top spot this year and next? Book a table there while you still can for this is a remarkable restaurant now but surely a place with the best years still ahead of it.
The Fat Duck (20/11/2010)
The prospect of an evening at The Fat Duck can only ever be exciting; Waitrose forgiven, Heston still has to be considered the most creatively interesting chef operating in the UK today. Our excitement is only tempered by the fact that we have both been here before (Mrs CC twice before in fact) and little seems changed on the menu which is a mix of Fat Duck classics and the current tasting menu; nothing new for the event it seems. That said, we know that Chef Blumenthal likes to evolve dishes so we hope to experience some surprises tonight. We also know that he’s an absolute perfectionist. In a recent interview with The Independent he said ‘I tell you it’s only from last year that I really felt comfortable with the quality of food and service.’ We wonder if we’ll notice the improvements, we’re hoping so.
The specific event on this particular night is ‘an evening with Krug’ with vintage Krug matched with the food so in that sense at least we’ve got some extra treats. What’s more, the fact that we have both been here before takes away the burden of expectation and we’re in a mood to sit back, enjoy the theatre of eating here and just have a good time. The Fat Duck is the most theatrical restaurant we have encountered and we were both surprised that El Builli for example was so much more straightforward from a table side performance perspective; stunning in respect of food but little in the way of theatre.
We start with the Lime Grove: Nitro Poached Green Tea and Lime Mousse. First out the traps and there’s that word already, Nitro. When you see this word on the menu, you know that a thermal flask of liquid Nitrogen will soon be making its way to the table for a bit of tableside low temp cooking (Nitrogen boils at -196˚C). We’ve seen it before, but like good fireworks, it still delights.
Here, an egg white/vodka/lime mix is dropped into the Nitrogen, mixed back and forth while bobbing around, plucked out, dusted with green tea powder and then you’re instructed to pop the whole thing in your mouth. There’s an initial moment of fear because when things come out of a hot oven they’re hot right, so coming out of 200 degree below Nitrogen you wonder if your tongue is going to get frost bite but no, Nitro Mousse explodes in a puff. This is a fantastic palate cleanser that not only whets the appetite but whets the imagination also.
The specific event on this particular night is ‘an evening with Krug’ with vintage Krug matched with the food so in that sense at least we’ve got some extra treats. What’s more, the fact that we have both been here before takes away the burden of expectation and we’re in a mood to sit back, enjoy the theatre of eating here and just have a good time. The Fat Duck is the most theatrical restaurant we have encountered and we were both surprised that El Builli for example was so much more straightforward from a table side performance perspective; stunning in respect of food but little in the way of theatre.
We start with the Lime Grove: Nitro Poached Green Tea and Lime Mousse. First out the traps and there’s that word already, Nitro. When you see this word on the menu, you know that a thermal flask of liquid Nitrogen will soon be making its way to the table for a bit of tableside low temp cooking (Nitrogen boils at -196˚C). We’ve seen it before, but like good fireworks, it still delights.
Here, an egg white/vodka/lime mix is dropped into the Nitrogen, mixed back and forth while bobbing around, plucked out, dusted with green tea powder and then you’re instructed to pop the whole thing in your mouth. There’s an initial moment of fear because when things come out of a hot oven they’re hot right, so coming out of 200 degree below Nitrogen you wonder if your tongue is going to get frost bite but no, Nitro Mousse explodes in a puff. This is a fantastic palate cleanser that not only whets the appetite but whets the imagination also.
Next up is Red Cabbage Gazpacho with Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream. The gazpacho is a rich burgundy colour and a pale quenelle of mustard ice cream sits on top. The first time I had this I feared the mustard ice cream, it didn’t sound appetising, but it’s Heston so you give it a go and strangely, it works really well. The ice cream is quite mild so there’s no face pulling on my part. The gazpacho is fresh with a clear and distinct red cabbage flavour. Diced cucumber below the ice cream also gives an additional clean and fresh crunch.
Jelly of Quail, Crayfish Cream follows though no dish here is ever simple and the menu reads an addition of chicken liver parfait, oak moss and truffle toast. Oak moss and truffle toast? Sounds like a forest scene and since every forest scene needs an eerie fog, cue dry ice (solid carbon dioxide). Here a tray of oak moss is set on the table but before the theatrics, you have to place on your tongue a forest flavour strip. This is like the fresh breath mint strips/films that you can buy at the newsagent but instead of minty fresh breath, here you get more earthy smoky notes to get you in the mood.
The dry ice sits in solid form under the moss and hot water from a cast iron kettle is poured onto the moss. The dry ice of course melts so allowing the forest fog to flow over the table like a scene from Top of The Pops c1980s. The moss is supposed to give some additional smell sensation to the dish but our conclusion is that it is more for theatrical effect which is fine because it is quite amusing. What you’re actually going to eat is quite separately placed on a plate and a bowl in front of you. On one plate, truffle toast, and in a parabolic bowl, jelly of quail, crayfish cream and chicken liver parfait. At the bottom is a pea puree. You’re advised to spoon a bit of everything at the same time which we do and it works incredibly well. We liked this dish a lot more this time round with everything seeming fresher and better balanced but still providing hugely powerful and intense flavours in every component.
Perhaps Heston’s most famous dish of all time next, Snail Porridge together with Jabugo Ham, Shaved Fennel and another delightful glass of Krug Grand Cuvee. This was my first time with the snail porridge and I was a little surprised that ‘snail porridge’ meant ‘snails and porridge’ with the ham mixed into the porridge and the shaved fennel on top. This was quite a full on dish but it does work together. That said, its fame seems to us more due to its concept and name rather than it being the most exceptional food we’ve had at The Fat Duck (or indeed other restaurants). I’m pleased though to have tried this Heston classic.
No three star tasting menu is of course complete without Foie Gras somewhere (in the extreme, one third of dishes on Joel Robuchon’s tasting menu contains it! yum). We now have Roast Foie Gras, Rhubarb, Braised Konbu and Crab Biscuit with a delightful glass of 1985. This is a fabulous piece of foie gras but foie gras has difficulty escaping being foie gras even in the hands of The Great Magus himself. His most famous dishes are the surprise value of snail + porridge or eggs + bacon = ice cream but here, while this is a great plate with a great glass of bubbly, it still remains just very good foie gras.
A note on the 1985 Krug, it was extraordinarily powerful on the nose, putting the usually powerful NV Cuvee in its place. To taste, the depth and power followed through and with a sweet pear note, it matched well to the foie gras. An amazing treat.
A note on the 1985 Krug, it was extraordinarily powerful on the nose, putting the usually powerful NV Cuvee in its place. To taste, the depth and power followed through and with a sweet pear note, it matched well to the foie gras. An amazing treat.
The last time we came here, this next dish was our absolute favourite and something we couldn’t stop talking about for a long time – Mock Turtle Soup. This was a dish that Heston developed for his ‘Feast’ program on television and the dish is subtitled ‘Mad Hatter Tea’ with its origins of course being Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. You get a little reading before starting this dish on both the Mad Hatter and Mock Turtles and the waitress also explains about the origin of the watch to ensure you understand where Heston’s coming from.
Unsurprisingly then, there is much theatre to this dish. First, the tea cup arrives and already in the cup is a ‘gold pocket watch’ on a string chain. Hot water is added by the waitress and you’re invited to stir; the watch dissolves to form a broth with gold flecks swimming inside. The contents of the cup are then to be poured into the bowl in front of you that contains a variety of things, but most noticeably, a large piece of pork cheek wrapped in lardo and a beautiful mock egg with tiny mushrooms placed on top.
Unsurprisingly then, there is much theatre to this dish. First, the tea cup arrives and already in the cup is a ‘gold pocket watch’ on a string chain. Hot water is added by the waitress and you’re invited to stir; the watch dissolves to form a broth with gold flecks swimming inside. The contents of the cup are then to be poured into the bowl in front of you that contains a variety of things, but most noticeably, a large piece of pork cheek wrapped in lardo and a beautiful mock egg with tiny mushrooms placed on top.
While this dish was the star of the show last time around, this time we found it lacking. First, the presentation of the dish has diminished. The pork cheek in lardo is just not attractive looking. Think how much presentational care goes into everything else, every other dish today and even every other component of this dish and the pork cheek is anachronistic on the plate. Last time, the pork came cubed in the bowl, now it dominates the bowl (you can see the difference of how this dish looked twelve months prior by clicking here). This takes us to the second point, the balance of the dish has changed. Previously, the broth that you’ve just made in the tea cup from the gold watch was the star of the show. Now, once it’s poured into the bowl it’s lost, the pork cheek dominates because of its physical domination of the plate; that’s a shame. Third, the flavour of the broth just wasn’t so intense. We don’t know if it was deliberately toned down to place greater emphasis elsewhere but this time, the broth was disappointing, as were other ingredients like the pork which similarly lacked flavour. The dish lacked the intensity that made it so brilliant last time and so is one of the few dishes that has evolved into something less than it was.
Heston’s other classic dish, Sound of the Sea, follows. What is so unusual about this dish is the application of hearing to the overall food sensation achieved through providing an iPod in a conch shell that arrives at the table with the food with a recording of, you guessed it, sounds of the sea. It’s like you’re invited to reminisce about childhood holidays of sitting on the sea front eating fish (and chips) with the seagulls squawking overhead and waves lapping onto a shingle beach in front of you.
The serving of this dish is also a presentation classic, not a traditional plate as we know it but an open cuboid giving a double decker display opportunity. It starts with a lower layer of actual beach sand with an upper glass layer on which the food is placed: sand (tapioca), fish (yellowtail tuna, halibut and mackerel) and the surf (a foam of seaweed and vegetable stock, and baby eel) nestle together. There’s some seaweed too mixed in and other sea vegetables. It’s like a beautiful beach in miniature.
This dish has evolved and we like the improvements, it simply tastes better. In the early days, they used shellfish but have now moved to cured fish, and while last time the sand and foam added to the appearance of the dish, taste wise, it didn’t work for us. Now the tapioca and foam made real additions to the dish and even when the fish had gone I found myself hoovering up what was left of the sand and sea, destroyer of worlds.
Drinkwise, we were lucky enough to try a Krug Clos de Mensil 1996 which is from a single walled vineyard in the Krug estate and produces champagne only in the years when the harvest is good enough. Here the notes were pineapple and apricot in a remarkably different expression to the other Krug varieties we were served that night.
This dish has evolved and we like the improvements, it simply tastes better. In the early days, they used shellfish but have now moved to cured fish, and while last time the sand and foam added to the appearance of the dish, taste wise, it didn’t work for us. Now the tapioca and foam made real additions to the dish and even when the fish had gone I found myself hoovering up what was left of the sand and sea, destroyer of worlds.
Drinkwise, we were lucky enough to try a Krug Clos de Mensil 1996 which is from a single walled vineyard in the Krug estate and produces champagne only in the years when the harvest is good enough. Here the notes were pineapple and apricot in a remarkably different expression to the other Krug varieties we were served that night.
Staying with fishy friends, we are then served Salmon Poached in Liquorice with artichoke, vanilla mayonnaise and golden trout roe (washed down with Krug Rose). Last time around, we had found the liquorice was so far the predominant flavour that the salmon was virtually redundant and it was our least favourite dish. With it still on the current tasting menu, we’re interested to see if it’s changed. It still looks the same, a dark brown chocolatey piece of salmon by appearance but the liquorice is toned down substantially and the salmon comes through. Even so, we’re not sure exactly what Heston is trying to show off with this dish and it’s still not in our top dish pick. We do love the golden trout roe and would have been more than happy with a bowl of this as it explodes juice in your mouth when you squash it between your tongue and the roof of your mouth.
Another of Heston’s feast dishes next: Powdered Anjou Pigeon, blood pudding, potted umbles, spelt and pickles. The menu dates this dish as c1720. According to the 1893 text of Samuel Pepys diary, umbles are the liver, kidneys and other portions of the inside of a deer though here, it’s pigeon offal all the way. Spelt meanwhile is a type of ancient wheat and sits atop the umbles in a separate bowl to the plated pigeon.
Trying to pair champagne with this is a bit of a fool’s errand as nothing produced from a chardonnay grape is going to stand up to blood pudding: a good Bordeaux would have been better paired but that’s by the by. What we liked most about this dish was the umbles which was rich, warm and meaty comfort food as long as you didn’t think about what you were eating – pigeon offal. The puffed spelt meanwhile added a sweet crunch to the soft mushy texture of the umbles.
And while this dish is called powdered pigeon leading to believe that you will literally get a powder of pigeon, that’s not the case, you get served a full pigeon breast. Powdered rather is a old cooking term that refers to a specific preparation method. The pigeon breast also comes with a pigeon foam and pigeon crackers.
And while this dish is called powdered pigeon leading to believe that you will literally get a powder of pigeon, that’s not the case, you get served a full pigeon breast. Powdered rather is a old cooking term that refers to a specific preparation method. The pigeon breast also comes with a pigeon foam and pigeon crackers.
By itself today we have the Hot & Iced Tea. Last time around, this was served as part of the breakfast collection, nitro bacon and egg ice cream, brioche etc with a nice cup of tea. Previously, we loved this dish and were blown away by what he achieved with it.
The tea cup is front of you, it looks like ‘normal’ tea. Take the cup and raise it to your lips: take a good mouthful. In your mouth, it is, at exactly the same time, both hot and cold. At the same time, you are registering both sensations. It’s a real conversation piece and while I think I know how this is done, it is genius nevertheless to pull it off.
The evolution of this item has in our view diminished what was previously perfection. The tea this time around was more viscous and less finely balanced between hot and cold. Before, each sip would be both hot and cold but today, one sip would be predominantly hot (with notes of cold) while the next sip would be predominantly cold (with notes of hot). Previously, each sip was perfectly balanced between both. Maybe this is how he wants the dish to be? It’s still fun though.
The tea cup is front of you, it looks like ‘normal’ tea. Take the cup and raise it to your lips: take a good mouthful. In your mouth, it is, at exactly the same time, both hot and cold. At the same time, you are registering both sensations. It’s a real conversation piece and while I think I know how this is done, it is genius nevertheless to pull it off.
The evolution of this item has in our view diminished what was previously perfection. The tea this time around was more viscous and less finely balanced between hot and cold. Before, each sip would be both hot and cold but today, one sip would be predominantly hot (with notes of cold) while the next sip would be predominantly cold (with notes of hot). Previously, each sip was perfectly balanced between both. Maybe this is how he wants the dish to be? It’s still fun though.
The Taffety Tart (c1660) is another dish that Heston’ is clearly proud of. He recently said that it took a year for it to get on the menu because that’s how long it took them to get it right, especially the ultra thin pastry which is very impressive – we looked out for it especially. We also understand that it is to feature on the Dinner, Mandarin Oriental menu.
All that said, last time we preferred the Black Forest Gateaux (BFG) and wonder if Heston has fallen in love with the Taffety Tart a little too much. Knowing how much work he’s put into this makes us feel a little guilty that we don’t think it’s more special. Technically excellent and for sure beyond the ability of most restaurants to turn out something similar, this is the last real dish of the evening and it is served in the normal way (on a plate), looks normal and is eaten in a normal way with a fork and spoon. If there’s magic here it was done in the kitchen (and certainly kitchen magic is great magic) but for the grand finale, it lacks impact as it sits in front of you, it’s just a better tart.
For note, starting from the plate up you have pastry, caramelised apple, pastry, more apple, pastry fromage blanc (with rose infusion), pastry and a topping apple crumble mix (freeze dried apple, poached apple, crumble, fennel seed, vanilla salt). It is good though and the pastry is really impressive but for those who don’t like flowers in their cooking, the rose can be off putting.
All that said, last time we preferred the Black Forest Gateaux (BFG) and wonder if Heston has fallen in love with the Taffety Tart a little too much. Knowing how much work he’s put into this makes us feel a little guilty that we don’t think it’s more special. Technically excellent and for sure beyond the ability of most restaurants to turn out something similar, this is the last real dish of the evening and it is served in the normal way (on a plate), looks normal and is eaten in a normal way with a fork and spoon. If there’s magic here it was done in the kitchen (and certainly kitchen magic is great magic) but for the grand finale, it lacks impact as it sits in front of you, it’s just a better tart.
For note, starting from the plate up you have pastry, caramelised apple, pastry, more apple, pastry fromage blanc (with rose infusion), pastry and a topping apple crumble mix (freeze dried apple, poached apple, crumble, fennel seed, vanilla salt). It is good though and the pastry is really impressive but for those who don’t like flowers in their cooking, the rose can be off putting.
Finally, to ensure you don’t forget The Fat Duck the minute you walk out the door, termed ‘Like a Kid in a Sweetshop’, you receive a goody bag to go of chocs and sweets. Here, some light heartedness returns as you’re never quite sure what you can eat and what you can’t so what the hell, chew on everything and see.
The ‘Coconut Baccy’ comes in a tobacco pouch and has something of the texture of tobacco but is of course edible. In reality, it is candied coconut shreds and tastes nicer than I remember. The apple pie caramel comes with an edible wrapper though don’t confuse the bag it comes in with the wrapper – the bag’s plastic. This soft apple toffee dissolves in your mouth and is very playful.
The ‘Coconut Baccy’ comes in a tobacco pouch and has something of the texture of tobacco but is of course edible. In reality, it is candied coconut shreds and tastes nicer than I remember. The apple pie caramel comes with an edible wrapper though don’t confuse the bag it comes in with the wrapper – the bag’s plastic. This soft apple toffee dissolves in your mouth and is very playful.
The aerated chocolate with mandarin jelly is a little bit like an Aero base with a jelly top though Heston probably hates that description. Best of all though is the Queen of Hearts playing card. The seal on the ‘envelope’ is also edible but the card itself is exquisite in design, white chocolate, printed differently on each side, and inside the playing card, a berry compote. It is a great little goodie bag to go away with.
So what’s the verdict on the evening?
Heston Blumenthal is arguably the most important name in British cooking right now and his dishes are now both modern classics and filled with wonder for their food content and table theatre. So while we do not wish to detract from what he has achieved with The Fat Duck, we didn’t enjoy the evening as much as we had hoped we would. The reason is that while some of the dishes have evolved, some better, some worse, we both felt that we had eaten essentially the same meal as before, we had both seen the same theatre before, and second/third time around, it was losing its edge. If this was a murder mystery, we know that it was Professor Plum in the Dining Room with the candlestick. We know that because that’s how it was last time. The mystery has gone.
And it’s not only because we’ve eaten it before either, it’s about progress. The Fat Duck was undoubtedly at the cutting edge of avant garde cuisine in the early and mid part of the ‘naughties’ but with dishes remaining on the menu for literally years, the small evolutions are not enough to keep pace with changes in the leading edge food scene that has happened since then. Because of that, we had more foams in these eight courses than we had in the forty courses at El Bulli because Adria has evolved his menu. We were almost upset at El Bulli that we didn’t get to experience the exploding olive but Adria knew that keeping it on the menu anchored him to the past so it went.
It might sound crazy but in our view, Heston needs to take more risks with his food and his menu!
He needs to take more risks not only because others are catching up (and in the case of Noma overtaking) but because of the growing sense of familiarity we all now have with his food, the outcome of which is a menu that fails to challenge the modern well eaten diner. We leave the restaurant happy enough but not gushing over the meal. Why? Because we gushed last time round, because we discussed it at length last time round, we’ve already pulled it apart. This time round, what more is there to say?
For the first time diner, none of this matters for the magic and surprise are there and The Fat Duck is a remarkable experience that you will never forget. The question becomes, what’s there to bring the diner back again? We’re pretty sure too that Heston doesn’t want The Fat Duck to be thought of as a one trick pony and our viewing of his TV work suggests that he’s as brilliant as he’s commonly held to be. So what’s stopping The Fat Duck drawing on this and innovating brilliant menus season after season? Maybe Heston can’t let go of the past or maybe he’s too much of a perfectionist to take the risk of new dishes to replace trusty work horses. All this is nevertheless speculation on our part.
Our conclusion however is that if The Fat Duck remains static much longer, its relative slide in the world of avant garde cooking will accelerate. The Fat Duck has without doubt secured its place in the history of cooking; can it now move forward and keep that place in the future?
Return to Homepage
Heston Blumenthal is arguably the most important name in British cooking right now and his dishes are now both modern classics and filled with wonder for their food content and table theatre. So while we do not wish to detract from what he has achieved with The Fat Duck, we didn’t enjoy the evening as much as we had hoped we would. The reason is that while some of the dishes have evolved, some better, some worse, we both felt that we had eaten essentially the same meal as before, we had both seen the same theatre before, and second/third time around, it was losing its edge. If this was a murder mystery, we know that it was Professor Plum in the Dining Room with the candlestick. We know that because that’s how it was last time. The mystery has gone.
And it’s not only because we’ve eaten it before either, it’s about progress. The Fat Duck was undoubtedly at the cutting edge of avant garde cuisine in the early and mid part of the ‘naughties’ but with dishes remaining on the menu for literally years, the small evolutions are not enough to keep pace with changes in the leading edge food scene that has happened since then. Because of that, we had more foams in these eight courses than we had in the forty courses at El Bulli because Adria has evolved his menu. We were almost upset at El Bulli that we didn’t get to experience the exploding olive but Adria knew that keeping it on the menu anchored him to the past so it went.
It might sound crazy but in our view, Heston needs to take more risks with his food and his menu!
He needs to take more risks not only because others are catching up (and in the case of Noma overtaking) but because of the growing sense of familiarity we all now have with his food, the outcome of which is a menu that fails to challenge the modern well eaten diner. We leave the restaurant happy enough but not gushing over the meal. Why? Because we gushed last time round, because we discussed it at length last time round, we’ve already pulled it apart. This time round, what more is there to say?
For the first time diner, none of this matters for the magic and surprise are there and The Fat Duck is a remarkable experience that you will never forget. The question becomes, what’s there to bring the diner back again? We’re pretty sure too that Heston doesn’t want The Fat Duck to be thought of as a one trick pony and our viewing of his TV work suggests that he’s as brilliant as he’s commonly held to be. So what’s stopping The Fat Duck drawing on this and innovating brilliant menus season after season? Maybe Heston can’t let go of the past or maybe he’s too much of a perfectionist to take the risk of new dishes to replace trusty work horses. All this is nevertheless speculation on our part.
Our conclusion however is that if The Fat Duck remains static much longer, its relative slide in the world of avant garde cooking will accelerate. The Fat Duck has without doubt secured its place in the history of cooking; can it now move forward and keep that place in the future?
Return to Homepage
Noma (19/11/2010)

Noma, an abbreviation of nordisk mad meaning Nordic food, is what this restaurant is all about. However, saying that Noma does regional Nordic cuisine doesn’t do the philosophy even small justice for a long list of reasons. First, historically, there has been no real Nordic cuisine of merit. In the recently published book on Noma (Time and Place), it details that in the 1970s Michelin inspectors declined to visit Denmark because ‘there was probably not a single restaurant worth visiting’. The restaurants that were there tended toward Southern European cuisine and when René Redzepi laid out his vision of Nordic cooking, we’re told that his peers had a string of diminutive terms for the new venture including ‘Seal-Fucker’ and others in the same vein. No other chefs apparently believed a restaurant could be successful selling Nordic-centric food.
Joël Rubuchon in his Las Vegas restaurant is reported to import his lobster from Brittany rather than Maine ‘because Brittany lobster tastes better’. That means the lobster has travelled about 6,000 miles to reach the restaurant. Chef Redzepi meanwhile never deviates around the concept of local produce merely to be a crowd pleaser. If it’s not local, it’s not on the menu; you have to admire his integrity. I asked a sous-chef whether this restricted radius of operation made life difficult, he said, ‘no, it’s not so bad, I have a car and can drive up to two hours to get the ingredients I need.’
And nor does Redzepi source local ingredients only to turn them into French dishes by smothering them in classic sauces and dressings because that wouldn’t be Nordic cooking and that wouldn’t respect the ingredient. Respect will be a word that will feature a great deal in the evening’s conversation as we discuss the food.
If that weren’t enough of a challenge by itself, seasonality in a climate as harsh has Denmark’s poses further challenges as to available ingredients in the Winter months. It also means a constantly changing seasonal menu so there's never any sitting back.
We’ll talk more of his food philosophy as the ethos is made real by the dishes we are served but before we sit down at the table, a few of René Redzepi’s own words from the book provide a concise as any explanation of his key ideas:
When you get close to the raw materials and touch them while they are still one with nature, taste them at the moment they let go of the soil, you learn to respect them. As a result, there is never any question of altering the raw material to such an extent that, when it reaches its destination on the plate, it no longer has any connection with its origins... we only do our job properly if we succeed in creating a dish in which we show the history of the raw material and put it in the right context. Without this connection it makes no sense.
* * * * * * * *
The taxi ride to Noma involves no single track roads with a precipice on one side but with the restaurant set in docklands that appear mostly abandoned at night, these couple of minutes driving through this dimly lit deserted wharf can be quite unsettling in its own way, industrial docks are not known for being bastions of law and order. This is Denmark though where everybody's nice and it’s not long before the taxi sweeps round the back of a warehouse to reveal flaming torches lighting the sign on the wall that simply says ‘noma’.
The staff are friendly but informal. The inside is relaxed and humming with conversation and the absence of table cloths is another wink to the restaurant’s philosophy. The inside is decorated in Nordic fashion placing substance and functionality over style but never in a jarring way. The warehouse, dating from 1767 further wraps you in Nordic history and with plaster pealing from the walls, original brickwork has become exposed rooting the setting too in authenticity. Our table is by the window overlooking the quay, we instantly like it and instantly feel at ease.
The food is on us almost from the beginning, or rather, the food was already there, we just didn’t know it. Our waiter tells us that before we go to the menu, there will be a number of plates of finger food to enjoy. He also says ‘this is your first course’ pulling forward the flower bowl on the table. He’s not going to tell us exactly what in the bowl we should eat but will leave us to figure it out. The answer is the twigs (at least that’s what we ate), made from malt, juniper leaves and pine leaves served with a crème freche. We’re immediately caught by surprise; we're are already smiling.
Joël Rubuchon in his Las Vegas restaurant is reported to import his lobster from Brittany rather than Maine ‘because Brittany lobster tastes better’. That means the lobster has travelled about 6,000 miles to reach the restaurant. Chef Redzepi meanwhile never deviates around the concept of local produce merely to be a crowd pleaser. If it’s not local, it’s not on the menu; you have to admire his integrity. I asked a sous-chef whether this restricted radius of operation made life difficult, he said, ‘no, it’s not so bad, I have a car and can drive up to two hours to get the ingredients I need.’
And nor does Redzepi source local ingredients only to turn them into French dishes by smothering them in classic sauces and dressings because that wouldn’t be Nordic cooking and that wouldn’t respect the ingredient. Respect will be a word that will feature a great deal in the evening’s conversation as we discuss the food.
If that weren’t enough of a challenge by itself, seasonality in a climate as harsh has Denmark’s poses further challenges as to available ingredients in the Winter months. It also means a constantly changing seasonal menu so there's never any sitting back.
We’ll talk more of his food philosophy as the ethos is made real by the dishes we are served but before we sit down at the table, a few of René Redzepi’s own words from the book provide a concise as any explanation of his key ideas:
When you get close to the raw materials and touch them while they are still one with nature, taste them at the moment they let go of the soil, you learn to respect them. As a result, there is never any question of altering the raw material to such an extent that, when it reaches its destination on the plate, it no longer has any connection with its origins... we only do our job properly if we succeed in creating a dish in which we show the history of the raw material and put it in the right context. Without this connection it makes no sense.
* * * * * * * *
The taxi ride to Noma involves no single track roads with a precipice on one side but with the restaurant set in docklands that appear mostly abandoned at night, these couple of minutes driving through this dimly lit deserted wharf can be quite unsettling in its own way, industrial docks are not known for being bastions of law and order. This is Denmark though where everybody's nice and it’s not long before the taxi sweeps round the back of a warehouse to reveal flaming torches lighting the sign on the wall that simply says ‘noma’.
The staff are friendly but informal. The inside is relaxed and humming with conversation and the absence of table cloths is another wink to the restaurant’s philosophy. The inside is decorated in Nordic fashion placing substance and functionality over style but never in a jarring way. The warehouse, dating from 1767 further wraps you in Nordic history and with plaster pealing from the walls, original brickwork has become exposed rooting the setting too in authenticity. Our table is by the window overlooking the quay, we instantly like it and instantly feel at ease.
The food is on us almost from the beginning, or rather, the food was already there, we just didn’t know it. Our waiter tells us that before we go to the menu, there will be a number of plates of finger food to enjoy. He also says ‘this is your first course’ pulling forward the flower bowl on the table. He’s not going to tell us exactly what in the bowl we should eat but will leave us to figure it out. The answer is the twigs (at least that’s what we ate), made from malt, juniper leaves and pine leaves served with a crème freche. We’re immediately caught by surprise; we're are already smiling.
While we’re still wondering if we should be chewing on the flowers too, they bring us a plate that has the elements of the earth on: greenery, rocks, moss and more twigs. We’re told this is a course of shallow fried reindeer moss (the twigs here are just twigs and should be left alone). At Heston’s Fat Duck, the moss in his dish is there mostly for theatrical display with melting dry ice streaming over it conjuring up the idea of a forest scene. Here at Noma, there’s no dry ice, rather, you eat the moss so tasting its essence, not merely evoking an idea.
Two bio-dynamic leaks are brought to the table next, the business end has been blanched and deep fried with garlic puree. You’re instructed to bite off the end and enjoy as a single mouthful: absolutely delicious.
The key ingredient in our next course are sea-buckthorn berries. Sea buckthorn is a bush that grows on the beach that yields berries that are acidic, astringent and high in vitamin C. Noma juices the berries, air dries the juice on flat trays and cuts it into the serving portions. In the picture, this is the orangey-red base. The pinky-red bits on top are wild rose petals, the wild beach rose that grows on the beach near the buckthorn.
Here, you can see the Noma philosophy come through, pairing on the plate two ingredients that are paired in their natural environment. The rose petals are picked by the kitchen staff when they’re in season and this year they harvested 70kg! They're then pickled in an apple vinegar so that they have supplies of rose petal through the winter also.
Foraging is central to everything the kitchen does and all cooks/chefs are expected to participate in the activity, including René Redzepi himself. It serves a purpose on multiple levels: at the basic level, it obtains the necessary plants and herbs for the preparation of dishes but it also teaches greater respect for the ingredients (Redzepi believes) if a chef pulls them from the ground with his own hands. It allows for discovery of new ingredients and therefore new dishes and new tastes and in turn, frees a chef from conventional thinking about what should or should not be on a dinner plate.
Here, you can see the Noma philosophy come through, pairing on the plate two ingredients that are paired in their natural environment. The rose petals are picked by the kitchen staff when they’re in season and this year they harvested 70kg! They're then pickled in an apple vinegar so that they have supplies of rose petal through the winter also.
Foraging is central to everything the kitchen does and all cooks/chefs are expected to participate in the activity, including René Redzepi himself. It serves a purpose on multiple levels: at the basic level, it obtains the necessary plants and herbs for the preparation of dishes but it also teaches greater respect for the ingredients (Redzepi believes) if a chef pulls them from the ground with his own hands. It allows for discovery of new ingredients and therefore new dishes and new tastes and in turn, frees a chef from conventional thinking about what should or should not be on a dinner plate.
Next up is something we had ‘feared’ but had been told was no longer on the the menu; it was. Presentational wise, it’s a jar of ice, lid on, with something about an inch long, brown but semi transparent on top of the ice. I struggled initially to understand what the waiter was telling me but then, with the lid off, all was clear, this was the live shrimp. Earlier in the year I had made a commitment that at El Bulli, I would try everything on the menu even if I was inclined to believe that I wouldn’t like it, reflecting the fact that the dish was prepared by the best restaurant in the world. Back at El Bulli, it led me to drink what I thought at the time was a glass of hare’s blood (though later found out that this was a typical El Bulli transformation of things not being what you think they are). Now that Noma is San Pellegrino’s best restaurant in the world, I feel compelled to carry the commitment over and resolve to eat the live shrimp.
The shock factor doesn’t end there though. We know the shrimp is alive but think that the ice will have put it to sleep so that at least its life will end under a general anaesthetic; it doesn’t prove to be the case. As my thumb and forefinger come together to grip the shrimp, the little thing reacts and jumps fully across the top of the jar, appearing about as sleepy as we are. I have visions of chasing this thing across the jar top all night and its unexpected Samba does little to make putting it in my mouth seem more attractive where I assume it will continue its disco dancing.
My next move is more successful, I grab it on the side of its body and quickly raise it to my mouth before it can escape. As fast as I can, I bring down the guillotine of my jaws and feel a crunch as the shrimp meets its destiny. I make it quick for both of us. The taste is unlike any shrimp you will have ever eaten before (unless you too have eaten a live one). There’s more juice, more crunch and more sweetness than you’ll ever have had from a shrimp. It’s actually really good and you want to savour the taste but for the most part, your mind is still reeling from the fact that you’ve just eaten a live creature and you want to get it over with so you can say you’ve done it and enjoy the rest of the meal.
My next move is more successful, I grab it on the side of its body and quickly raise it to my mouth before it can escape. As fast as I can, I bring down the guillotine of my jaws and feel a crunch as the shrimp meets its destiny. I make it quick for both of us. The taste is unlike any shrimp you will have ever eaten before (unless you too have eaten a live one). There’s more juice, more crunch and more sweetness than you’ll ever have had from a shrimp. It’s actually really good and you want to savour the taste but for the most part, your mind is still reeling from the fact that you’ve just eaten a live creature and you want to get it over with so you can say you’ve done it and enjoy the rest of the meal.
We both eat the shrimp and both feel that we’ve pushed the food boundary back a little further. We enjoy a sense of relief also and a sense of shared experience. Two middle aged ladies at the next table to us (who appear to be locals) are served the shrimp at the same time as we are but return it to the kitchen, unwilling or unable to push their boundary. We sit back and feel a little bit superior.
A biscuit tin comes next with two ‘cookies’ in: savoury cookies with speck and blackcurrants. A spruce shoot adorns the cookie. The cookie base is layered with a disc of sorrel, a disc of speck and is then coated with blackcurrant powder with the spruce shoot placed on top. After the live prawn, it feels reassuringly normal, it didn’t jump at us.
A biscuit tin comes next with two ‘cookies’ in: savoury cookies with speck and blackcurrants. A spruce shoot adorns the cookie. The cookie base is layered with a disc of sorrel, a disc of speck and is then coated with blackcurrant powder with the spruce shoot placed on top. After the live prawn, it feels reassuringly normal, it didn’t jump at us.
The food at this stage has also come very quickly with the next plate arriving as we finish the previous plate. Things will start to slow down a little from now but will still be quite pacey. Worth remembering too is that at this point, we’re still not on the menu, this is the pre menu finger food.
Having had cookies, it’s sandwich time now with a bottom layer of crispy chicken skin, a filling of fresh smoked cheese and crispy rye bread on top. There’s very little that’s better than chicken skin we remarked as the sandwiched disappeared. We are also still talking about the live shrimp at this stage.
Having had cookies, it’s sandwich time now with a bottom layer of crispy chicken skin, a filling of fresh smoked cheese and crispy rye bread on top. There’s very little that’s better than chicken skin we remarked as the sandwiched disappeared. We are also still talking about the live shrimp at this stage.
Our waiter then brings an ‘egg’ to the table, but in reality, this is just a vessel. Placed on the table, the top half of the ‘egg’ is lifted off to reveal the real contents, two salted, smoked quails eggs sitting on a bed of hay. The egg has also been vacuum cooked in rose hip vinegar. The hay and egg combination is of course a natural one and this would not be the last time these would be paired. Furthermore, a smoker has been used to fill the presentation egg with hay essence so as you lift the lid, your senses immediately jump to life.
They’re perfectly done and when you reach to pick it up, the side of the egg flexes inward and you wonder if it can hold its own weight or whether your fingers will end up pushing through the surface leaving egg on both your lap and your face. Of course it’s perfect, they’ve done it before and tested it endlessly. In the mouth, the egg oozes; consumed in one mouthful, there’s no money shot here but the egg’s willingness to dissolve in your mouth allows a mental picture of just how perfectly cooked the egg is. We pity the stagiaire who has to peel fifty of the softest quail eggs every day without messing up their perfection.
They’re perfectly done and when you reach to pick it up, the side of the egg flexes inward and you wonder if it can hold its own weight or whether your fingers will end up pushing through the surface leaving egg on both your lap and your face. Of course it’s perfect, they’ve done it before and tested it endlessly. In the mouth, the egg oozes; consumed in one mouthful, there’s no money shot here but the egg’s willingness to dissolve in your mouth allows a mental picture of just how perfectly cooked the egg is. We pity the stagiaire who has to peel fifty of the softest quail eggs every day without messing up their perfection.
More playfulness in the next dish as a plant pot with outshoots of green stems is brought to the table. It’s carrots and radishes but they appear to be still planted. We’re told though you can everything in the pot – edible soil it seems. Grab a stem and pull up the root vegetables and they pull out easily but coated in lime green goo and a dark powder that genuinely looks like soil. The green goo is in fact a herb cream, a blend of herbs, shallots, yoghurt and capers. The darker dirt meanwhile is a mix of malt flour, flour, hazelnut flour sugar and lager, mixed, oven dry baked and then combined with a similar non dried mix. The vegetables are of course raw.
The next snack is hard to describe but has a light pastry base, a middle of herbs, flowers and an emulsion of smoked scallop roe, and a duck film on top. The duck film is made by adding duck fat to duck bouillon which is then brought to the boil. The fat content is so high that a skin forms and this is what is now before us.
This dish was so delicate that as you pick it up, it flexes under its own weight and while it is only three to four inches long, we decide to use both hands to support each end so that it wont break on its short journey from the plate to our mouth. As with many dishes here, the herb-flower content drives a huge amount of the flavours but with herbs that are local and that might never have been used before in any other kitchen you’ve eaten in, the dish is both familiar and strange, something that will be common throughout the meal.
This dish was so delicate that as you pick it up, it flexes under its own weight and while it is only three to four inches long, we decide to use both hands to support each end so that it wont break on its short journey from the plate to our mouth. As with many dishes here, the herb-flower content drives a huge amount of the flavours but with herbs that are local and that might never have been used before in any other kitchen you’ve eaten in, the dish is both familiar and strange, something that will be common throughout the meal.
Here in the CC household, we are partial now and again to a donut. However, if an ordinary jam donut seems a little too healthy for you, you might consider doing it the Noma way and replacing the jam with a filling of pork rillette. The ‘donut’ is in fact a long standing Danish delicacy, Aebleskiver and so fully deserving its place on the menu. Dust down the top of the Aebleskiver with vinegar powder and the result is simply fabulous. We're enjoying it so much that we forgot to picture the inside of our donut v2.1 as our enthusiasm for this dish led us to forget that we even had a blog.
That took us to the end of the finger food section and had lasted around 45 minuts. Before we move to the main menu however, we are brought a wrapped loaf of warm wholemeal bread made with sour dough. We’re told they only do one type of bread at Noma (this type) reasoning that they would rather do one bread exceptionally well than several reasonably well. This comes with two pots of spread, a goats milk cream, and a pot of pork fat and apple with ground pork scratching on top. It is this latter pot that is the star of the show, concentrated pork flavours with a little pork crackling crunch. The bread was good for sure but in our books, totally eclipsed by the heart attack in a pot of pork fat. We ate it, another week off our lives seemed trivial in comparison to the joy of the taste.
The paired wines also start to arrive; we’ve been getting by on champagne up till now. Interestingly, every wine we’ll be drinking tonight is from Germany. Each month it seems they choose a new country to ‘feature’ with last month being Austria for example. It is one of the paradoxes of Noma, they take everything very seriously but still bring it over in an informal and almost humorous way.
Also worth noting is that up till this point, there has been no knives and forks, it’s been fingers all the way like the majority of the menu at El Bulli. This approach again emphasises the connection to the food allowing an increased sensual experience without the metal intermediary of cutlery as a barrier but also it provides insight into the food itself before tasting as the textures and feel reveal another layer to the food’s identity.
So now it is the first of the menu items, an appetiser and a ‘salad’: a green puree of juiced lettuce mixed with spinach puree and in the centre, fresh hazelnut jelly with fresh shaved hazelnuts and a drizzled with little juniper vinaigrette. It’s nice but we’re still cooing over the pork fat at this point.
Also worth noting is that up till this point, there has been no knives and forks, it’s been fingers all the way like the majority of the menu at El Bulli. This approach again emphasises the connection to the food allowing an increased sensual experience without the metal intermediary of cutlery as a barrier but also it provides insight into the food itself before tasting as the textures and feel reveal another layer to the food’s identity.
So now it is the first of the menu items, an appetiser and a ‘salad’: a green puree of juiced lettuce mixed with spinach puree and in the centre, fresh hazelnut jelly with fresh shaved hazelnuts and a drizzled with little juniper vinaigrette. It’s nice but we’re still cooing over the pork fat at this point.
Four varieties of bio-dynamic grains next in a watercress puree, dried scallop on each, squid ink sauce and seaweed oil. The dried scallop was nice but we both pick up in our first taste strong flavours of wheatgrass (though we are told this is not a component of the dish). As people who dabble in wheatgrass at home as perhaps our single concession to health, we’re mostly known to wince when we down a shot of it. While this flavour dispersed somewhat as we rotated through the cereals, first impressions as they say last and so we found this dish less to our tastes.
It is explained that when the world was going foam and molecular crazy, Redzepi wanted to push back against the trend and it's the basis for the next dish. We are told that ‘everything in front of you has been prepared by hand so you’ll be eating by hand’ also. It is a tartar of Danish ox with sorrel, juniper powder and tarragon cream. A little shaved horseradish is also mixed in. Eating tartar with our hands was easier than we thought as the meat still had firm texture and could be dragged through the powder and cream. This was the one dish we forget to get a picture of as we were absorbed by the meal.
A rock is then brought to your table. Your eye is first drawn to a vivid orange enormously plump langoustine tail sitting on the rock. Also on the rock sit dots of green emulsion (oyster) and a dusting of purple powder (seaweed).
The langoustine itself has been sautéd on one side for 30 seconds and then with added butter, sautéd on the other side for two seconds only. It is pure, it is fresh and is puts you deeply in touch with this specific ingredient.
For the emulsion of oyster, oyster flesh and parsley have been mixed in a blender with grapeseed oil to emulsify. Rye breadcrumbs are sprinkled on top. With no foams or other ‘tricks’, the oyster emulsion is about as jazzed up as it gets but it is absolutely incredible. The langoustine is so fresh we both want to eat it pure without mixing flavours but the emulsion is oyster in a whole new way. The flavour is intense and the breadcrumbs give a little crunch like it were a little grit in the shell but the normal oyster texture is missing giving way to a texture of mayonnaise. Unsurprisingly, this dish is eaten by hand and made for a very memorable part of the meal.
A rock is then brought to your table. Your eye is first drawn to a vivid orange enormously plump langoustine tail sitting on the rock. Also on the rock sit dots of green emulsion (oyster) and a dusting of purple powder (seaweed).
The langoustine itself has been sautéd on one side for 30 seconds and then with added butter, sautéd on the other side for two seconds only. It is pure, it is fresh and is puts you deeply in touch with this specific ingredient.
For the emulsion of oyster, oyster flesh and parsley have been mixed in a blender with grapeseed oil to emulsify. Rye breadcrumbs are sprinkled on top. With no foams or other ‘tricks’, the oyster emulsion is about as jazzed up as it gets but it is absolutely incredible. The langoustine is so fresh we both want to eat it pure without mixing flavours but the emulsion is oyster in a whole new way. The flavour is intense and the breadcrumbs give a little crunch like it were a little grit in the shell but the normal oyster texture is missing giving way to a texture of mayonnaise. Unsurprisingly, this dish is eaten by hand and made for a very memorable part of the meal.
The next dish puts the focus on potatoes and dairy. In the centre of the bowl is a potato puree made with potatoes in potato stock to give a pure potato flavour; cream is then added to give mashed potato. This is then covered with a milk skin and on top are the tiniest vintage potatoes (two years old). The plate is dressed with chervil and watercress and at the table, a yogurt derived liquid is added (the liquid collected after yogurt is passed through a cloth). Dairy and potato = comfort but with an additional lift from the herbs.
A small but special dish is in front us next, grilled onion, grape juice (the grapes are from a small Danish vineyard!), thyme oil and tapioca pearls. The sweetness of the onion and the acidity of the grapes balance while the thyme gathers the dish together. Simple but so good.
Back to the sea for a local fresh water fish that is a perch-pike cross giving a white fish with a very firm meaty texture (and then cooked perfectly of course). This is served with the stems of root vegetables and a roasted celeriac puree.
The ‘cook your own egg at the table’ is an iconic course at Noma, a course that would normally be stretched in the concept of fine dining but doesn’t seem wrong or out of place here. Your starting ingredients are: hay oil, a bowl of green leaves and herbs, a spoon of thyme butter, one very hot skillet on a bowl of hay, one duck egg in shell, an egg shell of salt and some potato chips. After the hay oil is poured into the skillet, you’re instructed to break the egg into the hot bowl (possibly a challenge for non cooks) and when that’s done, the 2 minute timer is started.
When the timer goes off, the thyme butter is added into the pan as are the greens. We’re told to leave the herbs and chips for further instruction. Then after a further minute or so of cooking, a cheese sauce is poured into the skillet and then we’re told to add the rest of the herbs and crush the potato chips onto the top of the other ingredients. Again we have the blend of a familiar potato and eggs dish but with new infusions (hay and thyme) and in the context of egg and chips, a more unfamiliar herb and flower mix. Again, it feels like new comfort.
And advice for bloggers, the egg in a hot skillet carries on cooking so don’t spend too much time taking pics with your camera as you’ll over cook the egg; the martyrdom of blogging.
And advice for bloggers, the egg in a hot skillet carries on cooking so don’t spend too much time taking pics with your camera as you’ll over cook the egg; the martyrdom of blogging.
We move now to the final savoury as they describe it, though we’re intrigued a little as they’ve given us what looks like a sheathed dagger instead of a traditional table knife. A breast of wild duck arrives, glazed and coated with aromatic herbs with the rest of the dish being apple. On the plate is a powder of apple peel and rose, the tubes are apple pickled in apple juice and the wedges are apple cooked in smoked butter. The Tapaz apple is used as it’s in season, has a strong aroma and has the acidity the kitchen want for the dish. The sauce meanwhile is also made from caramelised apple, apple juice and butter. The herbs were once again hugely powerful, much more so than you would normally find coming from a UK kitchen where they’re less willing to be so bold but that did cause them to risk a contest between the herbs and the duck for the ownership of the dish. The duck held on and with the richness of the meat balanced by the acidity of the apple in its various forms, it was a fabulous way to end the main courses
On the first of three dessert plates, two items were prominent, a decorated half pear and something that looked like a large piece of foam insulation. The pear is grilled with a thin slice of raw pear on top on which is then placed floral greens including heather flowers and lemon thyme. The sauce is a pear sauce with thyme oil. The ‘block’ as the waitress calls it is a pine parfait (with juniper salt on top) and no doubt used to customers thinking that eating this might be impossible after everything that’s gone before she adds that it is lighter than it looks, which it is, dissolving like ice in the mouth.
For the next dessert, we have Jerusalem artichoke ice cream, served with raw apple and malt, while in the bottom of the bowl is a juice made of apple and malt oil. Again we see apple and malt being used in different ways each time across the starters, mains and now desserts. This was a really refreshing dessert with a lovely contrast between the freshness of the apple and the more earthy dry malt; a great pairing.
Finally, we have a cheese course - dessert hybrid. In the centre is a full flavoured brown runny cheese with dried blackcurrants, tarragon and a little liquorice on top. The granita is made with red beetroot and we’re advised to eat a little bit of everything. As a savoury sweet combination with the crisp granita finish, it sees out the menu nicely.
We’re very full but not unbearably so as was the case at El Bulli – maybe I’ve just had to much practice now and am altogether a fatter individual. But it’s more than that, the pace was there but it was fast rather than frantic. In some ways too, because the food was natural, less modified and was heavily dependent on fresh greens and herbs, it was never overpowering. The finger food at the start aside, the plates were ‘traditional’ in the respect of both a progression from appetiser through a main and finally to a dessert and in respect of content: each course was mostly a plate or bowl of recognisable food combinations like egg and potato.
A lot has to be said for the environment too. Professional but informal. No table cloths as noted but also no fancy serving plates or glassware. There is exquisite care taken with the presentation of each dish but for the most part, it’s set in a nice but ordinary plate, the food is everything, the plate does not get eaten. As for theatre, frying your own egg at the table is the full extent of the table side performance and you have to do that yourself. No foams, no Nitro and no cascading falls of dry ice.
Also what’s special is that the cooks and chefs who have made the food come out of the kitchen to serve it to you. If Redzepi is keen that a cook feels a connection to the ingredients, he is equally keen that they should feel a connection to the customer. This again is another departure from the world of haute cuisine that we really adored because it allowed us to similarly enjoy a greater connection to the kitchen and the food.
A lot has to be said for the environment too. Professional but informal. No table cloths as noted but also no fancy serving plates or glassware. There is exquisite care taken with the presentation of each dish but for the most part, it’s set in a nice but ordinary plate, the food is everything, the plate does not get eaten. As for theatre, frying your own egg at the table is the full extent of the table side performance and you have to do that yourself. No foams, no Nitro and no cascading falls of dry ice.
Also what’s special is that the cooks and chefs who have made the food come out of the kitchen to serve it to you. If Redzepi is keen that a cook feels a connection to the ingredients, he is equally keen that they should feel a connection to the customer. This again is another departure from the world of haute cuisine that we really adored because it allowed us to similarly enjoy a greater connection to the kitchen and the food.
But the real language of this restaurant is the anchor to local ingredients and the respect those ingredients are shown. Can you imagine Ramsay foraging for herbs on a weekend for the Monday service at Hospital Road? For sure, the movement in the food world has been to local food but Chef Redzepi was there long before this idea gathered real momentum. Furthermore, top end dining is always likely to eschew this approach in favour of the best ingredients from wherever at whatever price because that’s what Michelin stars might require. Serving foie gras and Brittany lobster is also in so many ways a less challenging route than having to make do with what’s on your doorstep, especially if the ground is frozen solid for much of winter. Even more challenging for Noma perhaps where local cuisine – Nordic – is barely recognised anywhere in the world including Denmark itself.
Chef Redzepi has gone his own way in developing Noma, anticipating perhaps the trend towards food more harmonised with nature, but most importantly, he has the talent to deliver on the idea. The same idea in different hands could easily have gone spectacularly wrong. Redzepi is undoubtedly another food genius which shines through his connection to nature rather than science, so marking him out quite differently to Ferran Adria or Heston Blumenthall.
We loved our evening at Noma: loved the surprises, loved the food, loved the service. We’re sure too that if we went back three months from now, the menu will have changed up sufficiently to allow us a whole new dining experience all over again. If El Bulli spawned a whole copycat industry of molecular gastronomy, it will be interesting if Noma’s influence takes the food scene back in the other direction; a third way is probably the most likely outcome. Whatever the outcome though, it’s fantastic that Noma’s doing what it’s doing and it was undoubtedly one of the most exciting dining experiences of our lives.
Return to Homepage
Chef Redzepi has gone his own way in developing Noma, anticipating perhaps the trend towards food more harmonised with nature, but most importantly, he has the talent to deliver on the idea. The same idea in different hands could easily have gone spectacularly wrong. Redzepi is undoubtedly another food genius which shines through his connection to nature rather than science, so marking him out quite differently to Ferran Adria or Heston Blumenthall.
We loved our evening at Noma: loved the surprises, loved the food, loved the service. We’re sure too that if we went back three months from now, the menu will have changed up sufficiently to allow us a whole new dining experience all over again. If El Bulli spawned a whole copycat industry of molecular gastronomy, it will be interesting if Noma’s influence takes the food scene back in the other direction; a third way is probably the most likely outcome. Whatever the outcome though, it’s fantastic that Noma’s doing what it’s doing and it was undoubtedly one of the most exciting dining experiences of our lives.
Return to Homepage