Hello, One Harbour Road at Grand Hyatt in Wan Chai, Hong Kong

by   •   Food
 

While on my trip to Hong Kong, I wanted to try as many authentic Cantonese or Cantonese-fusion restaurants as possible. After doing some research, I found a restaurant called One Harbour Road at the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong that was highly-rated and frequently recommended online. They seemed to have a decent number of reservation slots open, so I was able to get a short-notice booking for a dinner on one of the days when I didn’t already have plans.

As my reservation was approaching, I got on the MTR and rode a train over to Wan Chai. From there, it was a quick half-kilometer walk up north towards Victoria Harbour before reaching the correct building. Afterwards, it took a bit of searching, as there are multiple entrances and multiple different establishments in the same structure, but after asking a few staff members for some instructions, I was able to find my way to the Hyatt.

Upon arrival, I was promptly greeted and seated at a small table in a very private and peaceful area of the restaurant. I was given two menus—one for food and one for drinks. I was also provided with a small bowl of candied walnuts to snack on while I was making my decisions on what I wanted to eat that day.

I am a fan of tasting menus because I like the idea of someone who knows food better than I do (i.e., the chef) building a multi-course meal for me. Thus, I specifically wanted to try either the seasonal set menu or the signature menu.

The seasonal set menu was appealing to me because I like trying limited-edition dishes, while the signature menu was appealing because it was named after the restaurant and namesake items are usually the restaurant’s best offerings. I ultimately went for the One Harbour Road signature menu.

A little bit earlier, I mentioned how I was in a very private area of the restaurant. There was a structural pillar near me, and the only other table in this area was a large family-style dining table with a glass revolving server in the center. I was very pleased to be in this corner because I wouldn’t have to interface with other diners, and I also knew that my intense photographing of all my food wouldn’t be disruptive to others.

With that being said, later on, I realized that there might be a different reason I was seated in the corner. This restaurant had a “smart casual” dress code, but it seemed like everyone else in the restaurant had voluntarily dressed up much more than smart casual. I traveled to Hong Kong with only plain black t-shirts, so I didn’t have a collared shirt to wear.

Smart casual can be flexible, especially in a place where tourism is high, so I figured I would just give it a shot and wear my regular black t-shirt without going shopping for more clothing. On top of that, my appearance definitely looked more intentional. There were no graphics on my t-shirt, I had dark black pants that looked like a mix between jeans and dress pants, I was wearing black leather boots, and everything was form-fitting. My outfit looked specifically as if I was purposely going for a smart extra-casual all-black look.

With that being said, in comparison to other diners, I definitely looked underdressed. I had a very funny after-the-fact realization that maybe the hostess seated me in this far back corner in order to quarantine me away from the well-dressed patrons and try to stop my t-shirt from being an eyesore in their dining experience.

That is completely reasonable, and I am glad that they seated me anyway and didn’t even make me rent a dress jacket from them in order to meet the dress code. If this really was why I was put in the corner, I also appreciate their social awareness and their efforts in preserving the higher-class dining experience of other customers. As I mentioned before, it fortunately ended up being a win-win situation for the both of us.

My point is, if you also plan on dining at One Harbour Road, I definitely recommend dressing up a little bit and not wearing a t-shirt like I did…

My seat had an amazing view of Victoria Harbour, the Tsim Sha Tsui skyline, and the Hong Kong Convention and Exhibition Centre.

In addition to the One Harbour Road signature menu, I also added on a non-alcoholic beverage pairing.

My first drink, which accompanied the appetizers, was Lyre’s Classico Grande, Glera from New South Wales, Australia.

While the deluxe appetizers were coming out, I was served a small bite as the amuse-bouche. I don’t remember what this was, but it had a moist, spongy texture to it.

The first appetizer was preserved egg with young ginger.

Next was crispy suckling pig topped with foie gras mousse and caviar (pictured on the left) and crispy Spanish quail leg with spicy pepper salt (pictured on the right).

By this point, I wasn’t impressed. I think it was because of the extra crispy and fried nature of the items, but this didn’t really taste gourmet. I liked the flavor of the suckling pig, but the quail leg basically felt like I was eating a slightly more premium fried chicken cooked extra-crispy.

Next up on the non-alcoholic beverage pairing was LYSEGRØN Sparkling Tea, with notes of sencha, green tea, and citrus, from Copenhagen, Denmark.

Next up was the lobster course. This had two components to it: deep-fried Boston lobster claw with shrimp mousse and spicy pepper salt (pictured on the left) and braised Boston lobster with minced pork, egg, and spicy-sour sauce (pictured on the right).

This was strange. Again, because the lobster claw was fried, it didn’t really taste gourmet. The braised lobster was covered in so much sauce that I could barely tell that the lobster was there at all, and it was almost like I was just eating spaghetti’s cousin.

This is a bit sad to say, but my favorite component of this dish was the broccoli, due to it being the only part that wasn’t fried or overseasoned.

After the lobster, I had double-boiled chicken and pork shank soup with matsutake mushrooms and bamboo pith, all served inside a young coconut.

This is where things were improving. This soup had a deep, rich flavor that relied primarily on the ingredients to shine, and less so on external seasoning or flavoring.

I also liked the fact that it was served inside a coconut, and I think that added a subtle enhancement to the flavor of the soup. By the time I was done, the soup had softened the coconut, so I gently scraped some of it off the outer shell and enjoyed a small layer of the coconut flesh as well.

The menu said that there was an upsell to get this with fish maw as a supplement; I did not go for that option, and just got the regular preparation of the soup.

By this point, I got to watch the sun set and it was getting darker.

Next on my non-alcoholic beverage pairing menu, selected to go along with all the main entrées, was van Nahmen premium cherry juice from Germany.

The next dish was steamed giant garoupa fillet with cordycep flowers and Sichuan peppercorn atop soy sauce.

This was my favorite dish of the dinner. It had a clean, straightforward flavor. The vegetables were refreshing, and the soy sauce was diluted enough that it added a tasty soy sauce flavor without making the overall dish too salty. I also really enjoy the type of spice that comes along with Sichuan peppercorn, so in addition to submerging it in the soy sauce and under the fish to extract as much of the flavor as possible, I also took little nibbles of it to add a sharp kick to every other bite of fish.

After the fish came out a braised whole South African premium dried abalone with vegetables, pomelo peel, and oyster sauce.

Unlike the soy sauce, the oyster sauce was not well-diluted. I have a feeling that I would’ve enjoyed this abalone, but I couldn’t really taste it because of the sauce. I think if they had provided the sauce as a drizzle on top (rather than as a sauce bath), the abalone would be able to speak for itself and serve as a great dish.

Finally, the last main entrée of the meal was fried rice with scallops, barbecued pork, beetroot, green beans, egg, and preserved vegetables.

This was an extremely premium-tasting fried rice. I don’t know if this is just me, but I often associated fried rice with just throwing together a bunch of different leftovers before they go bad so that you don’t have to waste food. However, this fried rice tasted like it was made with high-quality ingredients and was crafted as gourmet fried rice.

One thing that I found particularly notable about it was the pork flavor. I am not really a fan of bacon; I think it is just very low-quality meat, and its high saturated fat content directly conflicts with my efforts at consuming a heart-healthy diet to counteract my hereditary high cholesterol. With that being said, this fried rice tasted like it had ultra-premium bacon in it, even though it was just regular barbecued pork. I think the way it was prepared extracted a bacon-like flavor from it without adding in the other negative aspects of bacon.

The final beverage of the non-alcoholic pairing was a house special—homemade cold brew dried rose bud and jasmine dragon pearl tea.

The previous three drinks in the beverage pairing were decent, but none of them really stood out as perfectly complementing any of the dishes. This cold brew tea, however, fit extremely well together with the dessert courses. The plain, unsweetened flavor of the tea synergized well with the sweetness of the desserts.

The first dessert was chilled mango pudding.

The next two desserts were deep fried fermented beancurd pastry with lotus paste (pictured on the left) and baked pineapple puff pastry with milk custard (pictured on the right).

I was already feeling pretty full by this point. I am guessing that this had something to do with the fact that an unusually high number of items I was served at this restaurant were intensely fried. I can eat a lot of food if it is prepared with refreshing ingredients and minimal seasoning, but once things get too fried or too salty, it’s as if my stomach sort of tries to block out any more from entering and signals that it is too full.

Both of these were heavily fried again. I did end up finishing both, but it became a bit of a struggle near the end.

By the end of my meal, it had gotten dark, so I was able to see the buildings lit up in the distance.

Here are some photographs I captured of some other areas of the interior of the restaurant:

And this is what the elevator lobby looked like:

One Harbour Road signature menuHK$ 1,738.00
Non-alcoholic beverage pairingHK$   400.00
Evian glass-bottled water (750 mL)HK$    95.00
Service charge (10%)HK$   223.30
Restore with ZFPA Fund (1%)HK$    22.33
TotalHK$ 2,478.63
Converted to United States dollarUS$   328.68
The table to the right shows how much I paid.

Overall, I thought that this meal was not worth the money I paid. If I’m paying a base price of over US$200.00 for a meal, I expect that meal to be very high-quality or otherwise have some degree of novelty or innovation to make it stand out. Unfortunately, the dishes at One Harbour Road were a hit or miss, and it had too many “miss” dishes in my opinion to justify a high price point.

Furthermore, I don’t know if this makes it better or worse, but I feel like a lot of these dishes would’ve turned out great if only they had just slightly adjusted a small component of the preparation process (e.g., braising or grilling instead of frying, reducing the amount of sauce, etc.).

In case you are curious, if I had gotten the seasonal menu instead of the signature menu, this is what I would have been served instead:

  • Smoked threadfin with ginger and spring onion sauce
  • Honey-barbecued pork
  • Braised sliced pumpkin, taro, winter melon, caramelized pineapple, and strawberry in hawthorn sauce
  • Braised fish maw and fish head soup
  • Steamed blue cod fillet wrapped in lotus leaf, shredded Iberico pork, and preserved vegetables in soy sauce
  • Steamed Australian scallop, prawn, and crab meat in sea urchin sauce and egg whites
  • Braised e-fu noodles with sliced abalone, black mushroom, and vegetables
  • Lotus seed cream with dried longans and sago

Looking back, I definitely should’ve gotten the seasonal menu instead, as it seems like there is nothing in there that is fried. On top of that, the seasonal menu was cheaper: HK$1,428 instead of HK$1,738. I don’t know what my thought process was at the time that I made the decision to get the signature menu (or if there was even a thought process at all), but I assume I just wanted the namesake tasting menu and put all my trust in the chef to prepare something excellent.

Based solely on my experience at this particular dining session, I cannot recommend One Harbour Road’s signature menu at its current preparation style and price point. I think they might also be charging extra-premium pricing, not only because it is part of a Grand Hyatt and they want to portray themselves as luxurious, but also because they have been designated by Michelin as a selected restaurant.

With that being said, it’s very possible that a different tasting menu would be much better, which is why I clarified that I can’t recommend the signature menu, rather than not recommending the entire restaurant.

 

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Hello, Matū in Beverly Hills, California

by   •   Food
 

I’m in Los Angeles County again in preparation for flying out of Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) for my next international trip. (In fact, I am literally currently at an airport lounge waiting for my flight while writing this blog post.) I’m not the biggest fan of Los Angeles, but I guess I am a fan of LAX because it offers good worldwide route coverage at reasonable prices due to how competitive the airport is for carriers, so I end up finding myself in Los Angeles more often than expected.

While in the area, I met up with one of my friends yesterday and checked out Matū, a steakhouse in Beverly Hills, California. They also have a location called Matū Kai in the Brentwood neighborhood of Westside Los Angeles, but we opted to go to the Beverly Hills location instead because it was a little bit closer to where I was staying at the time in LA County.

I’ve been enjoying chef’s tasting menus lately, the idea being that I want the components and flow of my meal to be determined by someone who knows more about food than I do. I told this to my friend, so when she picked the restaurant, she kept an eye out for a spot that had a tasting or prix fixe menu available. We ended up going with this steakhouse because she said she needed more iron in her diet. Of course, I thought it was amusing that she was getting iron straight from the source of red meat, rather than just taking iron supplements.

Matū had a handful of different prix fixe dinner options: the lock, stock, and barrel for four; the filet dinner; and the ribeye dinner for two, to name a few. When I dine at restaurants, I always like trying their signature or specialty items, so I decided to go with their namesake Matū dinner for two.

The dinner started with a hot cup of 24-hour bone broth.

Next was steak tartare. The menu said that this came with a Japanese accent, but I’m not quite sure what that meant, because this seemed to me like a very straightforward and normal American-style steak tartare.

The meat quality on this was incredible. It had a clean and crisp taste with very strong flavor intensity. The seasoning was very light and supplemented the steak flavor well without detracting from the meatiness. Unfortunately, the bread was extremely dry and was basically sharp crackers, rather than proper crostini with a crispy outside and slightly softer inside. Luckily, the tartare was so good that it didn’t need the crostini to “complete” it.

My friend got an interesting-looking fizzy drink, so I took a photograph of it. … Then I found out that it was only Sprite. So here is a picture of Sprite, I guess.

The next dish that came out was not part of the prix fixe dinner, but was a small plate that my friend added on as a supplement: fazzoletti with braised ragu.

The braised ragu was so salty that it tasted bitter. However, when I scraped it off and ate just the fazzoletti, it was much better. The texture of the pasta was excellent—it was both soft and chewy at the same time, and it had the perfect amount of bounce-back and resistance per bite that made it fun to eat. I would’ve loved to have a plain version of this fazzoletti to go along with some of the later steak dishes.

When this was first brought to our table, it had an intense smell of parmesan cheese coming from it. I’m not really a big fan of cheese because a lot of it smells like vomit to me. The parmesan on this was so strong that it nearly made me gag upon first whiff. Luckily, the smell faded relatively quickly, but at first, it was quite overwhelming.

My friend likes cheese, though. She inhaled a big breath of it so that she could smell it for the both of us.

The next course was eight-hour-braised beef cheek served atop celeriac purée.

This was decent flavor-wise, but again, this was so salty that it detracted from the flavor. I feel like this could’ve been a great dish if they used only about half the salt and just let the beefy flavor speak for itself. Alternatively, if I had some plain fazzoletti, that could’ve also balanced out the saltiness and probably made this much tastier.

Up next was a three-ounce center-cut filet with a “47” salad.

This steak was seasoned properly and was delicious. That made me suspect that the steak itself was all seasoned appropriately, but it was just the sauce in the previous two dishes that were way too salty and sort of ruined how high-quality the meat was.

As for the “salad,” I have no idea why they would call this a salad on the menu. The salad that each of us got was a few large leaves of lettuce with way too much cheese and dressing on it. When my friend ordered a supplement, she went for a pasta dish instead of a vegetable dish because she saw the salad on the prix fixe dinner and thought we would already be getting a proper salad to balance out the meat; if we had known the salad was just a few shards of lettuce, we would’ve ordered a different supplemental dish.

The final entrée of the dinner was a 12-ounce ribeye. They also had the option of enhancing the ribeye to a rustic ribeye, which is a more “butchery” cut of meat. I personally did not think the upcharge was worth it, considering that I have high cholesterol and I’m trying to minimize the amount of saturated fat I consume in red meat, so I prefer the leaner cuts anyway.

One interesting thing I noticed about the way they presented this on the menu was that it was cooked warm red™, with the trademark symbol. I brought this up to the waiter and asked if the term “warm red” was really trademarked, and he said that he thought it was but never really checked because nobody else had ever brought it up to him. He explained that warm red was the doneness level to which they cook their meat. It’s not quite the same as traditional medium rare or rare, but rather, it uses a proprietary cooking methodology to reach the perfect doneness level as determined by their chefs.

Of course, I was curious enough about this that I had to fact check Matū’s use of the trademark symbol. To my surprise, upon referencing the United States Patent and Trademark Office’s database, I found a pending registration for “warm red” filed by a company called Grass Fed Wagyu, LLC. I dug deeper and checked the public record of their application, and humorously, the specimen submitted for this mark was a screenshot of Matū’s website.

So yes, this was actually cooked warm red™.

The steak itself was delicious. I’m not sure if everyone else would love this doneness level, but it was exactly to my preference. It was tender, yet still had a little bit of resistance to it where it adds the fun element of feeling like you’re ripping through a raw steak like a caveman. It was perfectly seasoned as-is and didn’t need any of the salt that our waiter brought us on the side.

To go along with the steak, we received a side of grilled broccolini seasoned with garlic and red pepper flakes. We received a few more pieces than what is pictured, but my friend already swiped a couple for her plate before I had a chance to snap the photo.

There wasn’t really anything special about this broccolini, which was good. It served as a good vegetable to go along with the steak. It was clearly broccolini, but the flavor was mild enough that it supplemented the steak without interfering with its flavor.

For dessert, we got a strawberry panna cotta.

This was a bit underwhelming. It was decent flavor-wise, but for a lack of a better way to put it, it tasted a bit “cheap.” The strawberries were not noticeably fresh, and the strawberry syrup just tasted like generic sugary sweet syrup. I would find this passable if served at a low- or mid-range restaurant, but it was surprisingly basic considering it came from a restaurant that put in the effort to trademark warm red™.

We didn’t drink any alcohol, but I noticed that there was a dark wine cabinet on display on my way to the bathroom, so I snapped a picture.

This is what the interior of the restaurant looked like. We had an early reservation pretty close to opening time, so we got a private corner table by some trees with a nice view of the rest of the dining area. I was able to get some pictures before the restaurant filled up with customers.

Matū dinner for two$ 174.00
Fazzoletti$  22.00
Panna cotta$  12.00
Sprite$   4.00
Service charge (18%)$  38.16
Sales tax (9.75%)$  24.39
Total$ 274.55
This table to the right shows how much we paid.

Matū charges an 18% service fee, which was disclosed ahead of time. In exchange, they are a no-tipping establishment, which is why I did not pay gratuity. Unfortunately, the service charge was included in the taxable subtotal, so even though the sales tax was 9.75%, it effectively became 11.5%.

Because Beverly Hills has its own separate city government and they want to maintain their reputation of being a more upscale and nicer city, there is a cheap parking garage nearby on South Beverly Drive. (This doesn’t really happen in the city of Los Angeles where you just have to try and search for a rare street parking spot and hope that an impatient driver doesn’t try to run you over while you back into the space.)

Overall, I’d say I’m satisfied with the Matū prix fixe dinner, but it wasn’t very filling. I think US$87.00 per person for the tasting menu is reasonable considering the quality of the food and the location of the restaurant, but I would consider it a very barebones experience.

Most significantly regarding the portion size, there were no carbs, which I think is a cheap and easy way for the restaurant to make sure customers walk away full and happy after their meal. If I were to be allowed to make adjustments to the tasting menu, I would probably increase the price a small amount and then add in some welcome bread at the beginning with the bone broth, turn the salad to an actual real salad, and either add in some pasta or a starchy vegetable to go along as a second side for the main entrée.

Based on my experience, I’d say that Matū was decently worth it, but not so remarkable that it has to go on your must-try list. With that being said, apparently they are also famous for their cheesesteaks, which we did not have an opportunity to try yesterday. As of today, their Matū Philly Cheesesteak is US$24.00 each, so if you want to sample their high-quality meat, the cheesesteak is a much more affordable price point at which to give it a try.

 

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Hello, HILO Sushi in Beverly Hills, California

by   •   Food
 

I’m in Los Angeles County again in preparation for flying out of Los Angeles International Airport (LAX) for an upcoming international trip. While in the area, I met up with some friends who I regularly visit when I’m around Los Angeles, and we decided to try the omakase dining experience at Hilo Beverly Hills.

This restaurant was so unique that I feel the need to mention this right away: Chef Hilo’s omakase is not a traditional Edomae-style omakase. It is a modern-day “fusion” omakase that combines traditional Japanese elements with a more performative, conversational, experiential dinner. If you go into this expecting a traditional omakase, you will probably be disappointed; you might even find Chef Hilo to be abrasive and end up finishing your dinner feeling slighted and insulted. However, if you go into it with a relaxed and open mind, it could end up being one of the most fun dinners you’ve had.

Edomae-style omakase involves chefs who embody the concept of “shokunin,” which translates to being a master craftsman or artisan. There is a further implication in the word, though—shokunin in Japan are known to be stoic, quiet, and minimalistic in communication. This is not because they are shy or antisocial, but rather, they are demonstrating that they have their full focus on preparing your meal to perfection without any distractions. Thus, if you go to a lot of high-end Edomae-style omakase restaurants, you will find that the atmosphere is often very calm and peaceful.

Chef Hilo, on the other hand, finds a balance between mastering his craft, but also being a welcoming host who facilitates a memorable and stand-out experience. Throughout our entire meal, he asked us questions about ourselves so he could get to know us better, joked around with us, teased us in a way that usually only long-time friends do, and tried to establish a genuine bond with us. This restaurant doesn’t feel like you’re going to a professional establishment and ordering professional services; instead, it feels like you hired a friend to cook dinner for everyone and you’re all just spending time together for fun.

We went as a group of four; three of us got the full omakase dinner for US$250.00 each, while the remaining one of us got an abridged version for US$150.00 because she wasn’t hungry enough for all the courses.

Omakase, or お任せ, literally translates to “I leave it up to you.” Lately, omakase at a lot of restaurants has sort of turned into a more flexible version of what is actually called kaiseki, or a chef’s choice meal that follows a series of different courses. However, Hilo Beverly Hills serves an actual genuine omakase—no menu, no course list, and on-the-fly adjustments to what is served.

To start, we received three types of sashimi in sour sauce as appetizers, two oysters, a small shot glass of what I think was a different kind of sauce with oyster derivatives, and two cold fish dishes.

Next was sea urchin pasta.

The pasta had an incredible texture to it, and it was almost like it was cooked perfectly al dente (“to the tooth”) and morbido (“soft”) both at the same time. I mixed together the sea urchin and the pasta with each bite, but thinking back, I guess it is also possible that the textural phenomenon was caused by a firmer consistency of sea urchin mixing in with the pasta (considering that firm sea urchin is probably comparable in bite resistance to soft pasta).

This was my favorite dish of the dinner, which is probably expected if you are aware that sea urchin is my favorite food.

After those dishes, we were served a cup of bone broth.

I like restaurants that serve this because this is an indication that they have a “no waste” philosophy. Rather than discarding the unused portions of the fish, they will boil it in a broth and serve it so they can get as much value out of the fish as possible.

Following this was nigiri service.

For all the cuts of fish, a recurring theme was that the texture was some of the best I’ve had in fish. For example, the squid was extra firm on the outside, but still soft enough that each bite was very satisfying. The scallop took “melt in your mouth” to a whole new level. The shrimp had an intense sticky and slimy layer to it, which might sound bad, but actually makes the feeling in your mouth much more unique and fun.

During nigiri service, Chef Hilo showed us a plaque certifying him as an authorized dealer of Yuki Tsubaki (雪椿) rice.

I’m not really a rice expert, so I don’t know too much about the unique characteristics of different kinds of premium rice. Every single piece of nigiri I ate was delicious and noticeably high in quality, but I can’t quite pinpoint whether that was because of the fish or the rice (though I imagine it was realistically a combination of both).

That said, I did notice that there was a consistent hint of natural sweetness to each piece of nigiri that came out more the longer I chewed, so my speculation is that the rice was responsible for adding that element to each piece of nigiri.

Our next dish was abalone served inside a shell.

Remember the one friend I mentioned earlier who was the only one to get the shorter omakase? The abalone was one of the dishes that was only included in the full omakase experience, but Chef Hilo didn’t want her to feel too left out, so he put some of the excess abalone in a small bowl and gave her a miniature portion so she could try it too.

As we were nearing the end of our dinner, one of our final pieces was a spicy tuna roll.

In my head, “spicy tuna” is often associated with lower-quality sushi because of how often restaurants oversauce the tuna and how the excessive mashing of the tuna makes it feel unsubstantive in your mouth. However, Chef Hilo reimagined spicy tuna in a gourmet way. The sauce was light and complementary to the fish, and you could actually taste the flavor of both the tuna flesh and fat. The wrapping was also perfect in texture—it was firm enough that it held the rice and tuna together well, but was penetrable enough that it was easy to bite through and didn’t cause the “rip apart the seaweed and scrape the insides out with your teeth” phenomenon that a lot of spicy tuna rolls have.

Just by watching us, I think Chef Hilo concluded that I was the most experienced out of the group when it comes to dining at sushi restaurants (which is accurate). So, he came to me at the end and asked me to request my favorite kind of sushi as the grand finale of our meals.

My favorite sushi is uni (sea urchin), but we already had a sea urchin dish earlier with the pasta. My second favorite is escolar, but escolar is very much not a beginner-friendly sushi and can have some very unpleasant side effects if you’re not used to eating it or eat too much of it. My third favorite is shirako, but that is out of season.

I ultimately told him that I would like him to decide on a type of fish or cut that is relatively rare and I wouldn’t frequently have an opportunity to eat at other sushi restaurants. In response, he prepared seared tuna cheek for us.

Tuna cheek is a relatively small portion of a tuna fish, so this is definitely something that is not common at regular sushi restaurants. Cheek is often referred to as the wagyu-equivalent cut on a tuna due to how meaty and umami it is.

Our tuna cheek nigiri was prepared with a blow torch sear on the outside to help tenderize the connective tissue in the cheek.

One of my favorite things about fish with tougher connective tissue on the inside is that, when I finish “paring” it in my mouth with my tongue and eating just the flesh, the connective tissue remains, and I keep chewing it for a long time as if it is gum. I love that I can get a good minute or two of additional flavor extracted from the tissue when I chew for even longer.

Finally, for dessert, we received a black sesame blueberry sorbet. This was a completely new flavor combination for me, and I thought it was very interesting. It tasted like there were no added sugars, which was perfect, because that allowed the natural sweetness of the fruit to handle the job and put more emphasis on the individual ingredients.

To take a brief intermission, there was something that happened that was interesting enough that I feel like I have to tell the story in order to make my blog post complete.

When I asked for tap water at the beginning of the meal, the waitress told me that they do not have free tap water and the only water they have available is à la carte glass-bottled water. I have never seen any other restaurant deny serving tap water before, so I re-clarified this with the waitress, and she doubled down. I was so confused that I assumed there was surely some kind of miscommunication, so I re-re-clarified, and the chef tripled down and confirmed that they do not serve free water.

Because this is an alcohol-serving establishment, the fact that they do not offer any free tap water conflicts with the standards of care established under the California Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control’s Responsible Beverage Service Training Program Act (California Code of Regulations, Title 4, Section 166) and the Human Right to Water state policy (California Water Code, Section 106.3). In an effort to rationalize this incredibly unusual system they had, I asked the chef how they navigate compliance with these guidelines and regulations.

In response, he asked if I was a lawyer, mostly in a light-hearted and teasing kind of way. I wasn’t planning on confirming anything about my work, but my friend said on my behalf that, yes, I do indeed do legal work as part of my profession.

Chef Hilo didn’t have an answer for the compliance matter, but he explained his mindset and approach behind why he only serves bottled water—he thinks tap water, no matter how filtered, is too impure and unbecoming of a restaurant of this caliber. He instead scouted for and decided on Abatilles as his restaurant’s water of choice, sourced from Sainte-Anne Spring in Arcachon, France. It is primarily notable for containing no nitrates, low mineral content, and high alkalinity.

With that being said, rather than trying to argue, the chef went productively into problem-solving mode. He specifically wanted to make me happy with my experience, and I think he quickly identified that I wasn’t particularly satisfied with the idea of needing to pay an additional ~US$60 (after sales tax and gratuity) just to supply drinking water to my party of four. Omakase dinners are usually inclusive of everything except alcohol, so compared to other restaurants I’ve been to, having no tap water and only paid water options almost felt like a hidden fee.

Chef Hilo proposed a solution that, if I pay for one bottle of water for myself, he will cover the water for the rest of my party as a gift. I thought that was a good compromise and accepted his offer. The main thing I appreciated about this, though, is the fact that he had a practical, realistic, no-nonsense approach to coming to an agreement. It didn’t feel like he was using cookie-cutter “customer service training” like other establishments do; instead, it felt like he was treating me like a unique, individual human being and coming up with a unique, personalized solution specifically for me.

I think if I had dined alone or with one other friend like I usually do, that would’ve been the end of our meal. However, because we went as a group of four, there was less one-on-one conversation and far more interaction with the chef.

One of my friends really got along well with Chef Hilo. In fact, literally in the middle of dinner, they were gossiping about people they mutually know and were even setting up potential business deals. Due to the rapport they built, I think the chef’s impression of our entire group was improved. By the end of the dinner, he brought out a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne to share together with us.

Chef Hilo told us stories about past customers and advised us of the importance of building relationships with people. He also explained that his perspective on life changed when he realized that he has such a significant impact on other people around him. He wanted to celebrate with us with some champagne—not because there was a special event or anything, but because great memories are worth celebrating and cherishing.

In lieu of a menu, Hilo Beverly Hills has a little informational booklet that talks about its food and philosophy. Upon her request, Chef Hilo autographed one of them and gave it to my friend so she could take it home as a souvenir from the dinner.

Here are a few other shots from the interior of the restaurant. My friend booked our reservation for the final seating of the night, and we were lucky enough that we were the only ones there that day, so we got the chef’s undivided attention.

Full omakase ×3$   750.00
Omakase ×1$   150.00
Abatilles (750 mL)$    12.00
Gratuity$   180.00
Sales tax (9.75%)$    88.92
Total$ 1,180.92
The table to the right shows how much I paid.

If you read my blog a lot, you know that I am notoriously a stingy tipper, and am still very much against the United States’ out-of-control tipping culture. However, I tipped almost 20% anyway on this meal because of the great experience and because of the complimentary premium water. I would’ve tipped even more for the champagne, but he brought out the bottle after I had already signed the check and handed it back to the waitress.

Touching back on the water situation for a bit—after talking with and learning more about Chef Hilo, I was able to understand that the paid-water-only arrangement is not because he is trying to get away with making more money, but rather, because he genuinely wants his customers to have the pinnacle of a great experience with no imperfections or shortcomings. I think the intent behind someone’s actions matters a lot, and Chef Hilo is such an open and honest person that it is easy to read his good intentions.

Again, I want to reiterate that this restaurant is not for everyone. I know for a fact that there are going to be some people who find Chef Hilo to be unprofessional, disrespectful, crude, and unsophisticated. However, if you try his omakase experience with no predetermined expectations and take it in with an open mind, then I think most people will find him to be sincere, authentic, refreshing, and “anti-fake.” He doesn’t waste energy putting up an artificial façade; instead, he puts all his effort into preparing great food and curating an iconic dinner.

The price for the full omakase is not cheap, but if you’re looking for a high-end restaurant in Beverly Hills, you are probably expecting to spend a lot of money anyway. If you are not discouraged by my multiple disclaimers and warnings, and if you still find this to be intriguing, then I highly recommend Hilo Beverly Hills.

 

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Hello, Chef’s Table on Royal Caribbean’s Quantum of the Seas

by   •   Cruises, Food, Highlights
 

I am now back on land after finishing my first cruise on Royal Caribbean’s Quantum of the Seas, and I’m working on catching up on blog posts. (While still on the ship, I wrote about my experience leading up to, during, and shortly after embarkation day, and a few days ago, I published a review of Wonderland, a specialty dining venue on the ship.)

While purchasing my ticket, I added in an unlimited premium dining package that allowed me to go to any specialty restaurant on board without needing to pay the extra cover charge. However, even with that package, there was one dining experience that still had an upcharge—the Chef’s Table.

Upon doing some more research, I found out that the Chef’s Table is the highest-tier dining experience on Royal Caribbean cruises and is basically an interactive prix fixe chef’s tasting menu experience served to a limited number of guests per night. Considering that I have become somewhat of a food enthusiast over the past several years and especially like unique and personalized experiences, the Chef’s Table aligned perfectly with what I was looking for in a nice dinner.

If you read my embarkation blog post, you already know this, but as a quick summary, I had a disappointing experience with the food quality at Izumi Sushi, so I canceled all my future reservations there and looked for other options instead. I replaced one of the Izumi nights with the Chef’s Table. Chef’s Table normally requires an additional US$118.00 payment per person, but because of my unlimited dining package, the cover charge got reduced to US$59.00—a base price of US$50.00 for the experience, plus a mandatory 18% gratuity of US$9.00.

I didn’t see a way to book the reservation on the Royal Caribbean app in a way that would link it to my unlimited dining package, so I went to Guest Services for assistance. I heard that the Chef’s Table is in pretty high demand and often sells out before departure; I was wondering whether that was part of the reason I was having issues with the app, but fortunately, the representative at Guest Services was able to get me a spot for that same evening as the 13th of a maximum of 16 diners.

At 6:25 PM, I went down to the designated check-in spot at the Schooner Bar to wait for everyone to arrive and be walked over to the Chef’s Table. After a brief wait, all the diners showed up and our waiter (who was also the sommelier) led us to the table.

The format of this was quite different than what I’m used to. This felt more like a family Thanksgiving dinner than it did a restaurant. Everyone was seated together around a single large dining table, which made the experience very communal and conducive to conversation among everyone.

The dinner was a multi-course meal that also came with a wine pairing, so everyone’s placemat had wine glasses lining the edge. I don’t drink alcohol, so the waiter took away my wine glasses and said he would provide a special non-alcoholic beverage pairing to go along with my dinner instead.

After our waiter and sommelier explained the basic idea behind the Chef’s Table, the chef also came out from the kitchen to introduce himself. This was apparently his first cruise for which he was the chef for the Chef’s Table.

While we were talking amongst ourselves and waiting for the first dish, the waiter came out with some bread. Each pair got one large portion of blooming bread, but because I was alone, I got to have an entire one by myself. I ate half of it as an appetizer, then saved half of it to use as dipping bread for any leftover sauces that I assumed I would have with some of the dishes.

The first course was scallop carpaccio with crispy quinoa and yuzu vinaigrette.

I understand that the premise of carpaccio is to thinly cut the meat or fish, but I still would’ve preferred for the scallop to be cut a bit thicker so that it had more of a bite. The way that I adjusted for this was that I rolled up each slice of carpaccio into a little tube so that it felt like I had more material to chew down into. I liked the textural contrast between the soft scallop and the crispy quinoa, and dipping each tube into the yuzu vinaigrette added a nice splash of citrus that enhanced the overall flavor profile.

There wasn’t a separate non-alcoholic beverage menu that had all the ingredients of all the drinks listed, so I don’t quite remember what exactly was in every drink, but this first one was (as you can probably tell from the photograph) an orange citrus drink.

To go along with our second course, we received what the menu called garlic focaccia croutons. As you can tell from the photograph, it was definitely just a focaccia and not so much a crouton. The toppings were refreshing, and this served as a great side for the upcoming soup.

The actual second course was smoked tomato soup. I couldn’t really distinctly identify the smoke, but it did taste noticeably more earthy than what you’d expect from normal tomato soup.

The chef came out with a pitcher of cream and individually added a swirl to each of our bowls. Interestingly, the cream maintained its coagulated shape, and even when agitated with my spoon, it didn’t really separate much. I ended up “cutting” the cream with my spoon and including some in each spoonful, which was quite interesting.

The next drink of the beverage pairing was a blueberry nojito, the non-alcoholic version of a mojito.

The third course was Maine lobster salad with hearts of palm, pineapple, cilantro, and vanilla dressing.

This dish was an example of pristine simplicity. The lobster was incredibly tender and very strong in clean, pure lobster flavor. The vegetables added a nice crunch to the texture but did not materially affect the flavor of the lobster. The dressing was incredibly light and also did not affect the core taste of the lobster. If someone wanted to eat lobster because they love the lobster itself, then I think the way that this was prepared is the best cooking method possible to achieve that goal.

The fourth course was roasted branzino with grilled zucchini, peppers, carrot, lemon confit, and pesto.

Similar to the lobster, this was prepared in a very simple and straightforward way that emphasized the natural flavor of the whitefish without having anything else alter or overwhelm it. The skin was cooked very well in the sense that it was a great balance of both chewy and crispy at the same time. Although not listed on the ingredient list, it also came with a slice of citrus that basically acted as a superior substitute for squeezing a bit of fresh lemon on the fish.

Because I don’t consume alcohol, I haven’t really had any high-end wine experiences, and the only things I know about wine come from observing others ordering and drinking wine. That was applicable during my Chef’s Table meal where I saw the usage of a centrifugal wine aerator for the first time, by our sommelier while he was serving the other guests.

He later explained that it was a decanter, though I’m wondering if that was just a language barrier, because I am fairly certain that is just an aerator (and yes, I do recognize the irony here of attempting to correct a sommelier, especially considering that I just disclosed my general lack of wine knowledge). He was using that tool to serve Sequoia Grove Winery’s Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa Valley, California.

For the third installment of my non-alcoholic beverage pairing, I received a fruity pineapple smoothie.

The pineapple went along great with the fifth course, a grilled filet mignon with truffle potato purée, asparagus, and bordelaise sauce.

The waiter went around the table asking people their doneness preference for their steak. I ordered mine rare, and I am relieved to share that nobody at the table requested well-done. I was mindful to cut against the grain for each bite, and the steak was incredibly tender and flavorful.

I liked that there were two variants of the potato purée—one regular, and one with truffle. I especially liked the truffle potato purée because it had a more subtle and earthy truffle flavor (as opposed to a more greasy truffle taste that you find when people just use truffle oil for flavoring). I also noticed that the potato purée here was quite a bit firmer than what I usually get at high-end restaurants, which I actually found to be a good thing; I think that indicates that there is a higher ratio of potato to butter, which I personally prefer because I actually like potatoes.

I also appreciated that there were two additional tiers of textural enhancements. The vegetables were lightly boiled so they were softer but still maintained a good crunch, and it fulfilled the traditional “steak and veggies” archetype. However, the dish was also served with miniature potato chips, which added an unusual but fun extra crisp to some bites.

(The reason the sauce is not pictured in any of the photographs is because the chef came out after everyone received their plates and individually asked whether they wanted the sauce on the steak or in the moat, then served it to the diner’s preference.)

For the final drink of the night, everyone received a salted caramel espresso martini. Because mine was non-alcoholic, I guess it was just a salted caramel espresso coffee.

Dessert was the grand finale of the dinner. They call it the World, and it is a hollowed spherical chocolate orb with peanut butter ganache, Valrhona chocolate mousse, and salted caramel gelato, topped with warm caramel sauce. Surrounding the World were small pieces of caramel popcorn, strawberry, and mint.

For the presentation, the waiter goes to each plate and pours the warm caramel sauce on top so that it melts away the top shell of the chocolate sphere and reveals its inner contents.

This was the only dish of the dinner that I wasn’t able to finish. The inside of the World was delicious, but unfortunately, the chocolate outside was far too sweet. When I supplemented each bite of chocolate with the espresso, that helped balance out the intensity of the sweetness, but after I ran out of salted caramel espresso, I couldn’t down the rest of the chocolate shell.

During the dinner was also when they did special celebrations. One person across the table from me was celebrating his birthday, and a couple sitting to my right was celebrating their six-year wedding anniversary. They each got a little plate with caramel text hoping well wishes for their special occasion, along with a candle planted in an arrangement of strawberry, blackberry, mint, and whipped cream.

And with that, the Chef’s Table concluded. The overall experience took a bit over three hours. The waiter treated us to a quick magic trick to end the night, and then the chef came out from the kitchen to thank us all for our attendance.

This is what the other part of the dining area looked like, which would be the “back side” behind the photographs that I took. This might give a bit more perspective on how exclusive of an experience this was due to its secluded location and limited availability.

The room itself was nestled far in the rear of Chops Grille, an American steakhouse that is part of the specialty dining restaurant collection on the ship.

I had a great time at the Chef’s Table. I go to a lot of chef’s tasting menus and other special multi-course dining experiences, but in terms of atmosphere and environment, I think this Chef’s Table ended up being my all-time favorite.

A lot of omakase or other chef-led dining experiences will seat you at a bar so you have a view of the kitchen and can watch the chef and cooks prepare your food. If they don’t have bar seating available, each party generally gets their own private table. Royal Caribbean’s Chef’s Table is the first time that I have ever been seated at what is basically a residential dinner table that you would usually only share with your extended family for holiday meals.

This may potentially sound like an introvert’s nightmare, especially if that introvert is named Adam Parkzer and decided to go on the cruise by himself. However, I think the interactions and conversations with the other diners are what made this dinner so pleasant and memorable.

Except for the couple directly to my right who were in their mid-30s like I am, everyone else was an older person. They all seemed intrigued and fascinated by my ambitious nomadic lifestyle, especially because of how different it is compared to how they lived their 30s decades ago. Them wanting to learn more about me and my life served as a good conversation starter that carried on throughout the entire dinner.

With that being said, I think I also just got lucky with the people with whom I shared my Chef’s Table dinner slot. Everyone had a laid-back, relaxed, welcoming, and warm attitude that made the experience feel much more cozy and wholesome.

As for whether or not I would recommend the Chef’s Table, this may be shocking considering the fact that I just spent an entire blog post explaining why I loved it, but I actually would not recommend it for most cruisers. Keep in mind that it comes with an additional US$118.00 upcharge per person, so that can add up pretty quickly when you’ve already paid quite a bit for your ticket, and considering the fact that most of the other food options on the cruise are included in your fare. Furthermore, if you have young children, I would actually specifically request that you do not go to the Chef’s Table, because I think your child would feel sorely out of place, and the presence of children may spoil the experience for others.

With that being said, if money is not an issue and you want a high-class, elegant dining experience shared with like-minded strangers who enjoy a premium meal and great conversation, then the Chef’s Table would be a good fit for you. Even though everyone else in attendance came as a couple, I did not feel out-of-place as a solo diner. Furthermore, the waiter was engaged with us throughout the meal, so if you get unlucky and everyone else you end up getting grouped with is extra shy, then it seems like the waiter is trained to take initiative to get the conversation flowing as a backup.

I have one final cruise blog post coming up soon, in which I will share my overall concluding thoughts about the experience.

 

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Hello, Wonderland on Royal Caribbean’s Quantum of the Seas

by   •   Cruises, Food
 

I just wrapped up my first ever cruise, which was on Royal Caribbean’s Quantum of the Seas for a round-trip itinerary departing from the World Cruise Center at the Port of Los Angeles in San Pedro, California and making stops in Cabo San Lucas and Ensenada, Mexico.

Last week, while I was still on the cruise ship, I published a blog post outlining my experience with embarkation day; at the end, I explained how seasick I was, and I questioned whether I would just be bedridden the entire trip. I am happy to share that my seasickness mostly went away starting from the second day, and I deem the cruise to be a success. I have a few more cruise-related blog posts planned for publication over the next week: two from specialty restaurants (including this one), and one giving an overall overview and concluding thoughts about the cruise.

This one covers Wonderland, a restaurant focusing on imaginative and experimental dishes with an integration of molecular gastronomy. Being classified as a specialty dining venue, Wonderland usually bills an additional cover charge of US$55.00 per person per dinner. However, because I purchased the unlimited specialty dining package prior to sailing, I was able to eat at Wonderland for no extra fee. Wonderland had the kind of unique dining experience I enjoy, so I had two dinners at Wonderland; this blog post includes both of them.

 
Upon arrival, I was given a blank menu, a paint brush, and a small jar of water. In order to reveal the menu, I had to wet the paint brush and draw strokes on the white piece of paper, which dampened the surface and caused the ink to appear. The menu was split into five different elements: sun, described as “radiant vegetables playfully reinvented”; ice, “chilled to exhilarate the palate”; fire, “emanating wonderful warmth”; earth, “dishes grounded in whimsy”; and sea, “oceanic inspirations from the tide of the imagination.”

When my waiter arrived during my first dinner, I asked him how the system works, i.e., how many dishes I am allowed to order. At first, the waiter replied that he would pick the dishes for me. Confused, I asked him if this was a prix fixe tasting menu designed by the chef, to which he replied that it was not. He then clarified that I was able to pick one item from each of the elements. When I went through and made my selections, he told me that two of my selections were incompatible because they were both considered larger dishes. After some more confusion, I ended up skipping an earth dish and ordering two sea dishes instead so that my meal would fit their requirements.

During my second dining experience, I let the waiter know that I had already been to Wonderland before, and I picked out dishes that I did not have during my first meal a few days prior. Both this waiter, as well as the waiter from my first dinner, did not write anything down when I made my selections. Both of them apparently had lacking short-term memory, because in both instances, they mixed up some items, did not give me a few things I ordered, and gave me a few things I did not order.

From the fire menu, this was the Mad Hatter’s Purple-Potted Shrimp. This was basically a jumbo fried shrimp wrapped with more crispy breading shaped as thick straw. This had all the positives of fried food without tasting greasy, and the shrimp was still juicy and tender. It came with a scotch bonnet sauce, which went well with the shrimp.

Also from the fire menu, this was the Bird’s Nest, a smoked deviled egg topped with a few drops of hot sauce. This is one of the items that I did not order, but received anyway.

The menu said that this has blue cheese, but it did not, which is great, because the smell of blue cheese makes me want to vomit. It came with a lid that trapped in the smoke, which the waiter removed after he brought it to my table. Funny enough, the smoke was incredibly intense and heavy, and the smell lingered around my table a lot and made me cough, but the deviled egg seems to not really have absorbed much of the smoky flavor, because it just tasted like a straightforward deviled egg.

Last from the fire menu was the wonton soup with asparagus and jelly noodles. The dumpling was good, the asparagus was decent, and the noodles were interesting because they were extra smooth and slippery, so it made for an intriguing eating experience. However, the soup was unpalatably salty to the point where it was borderline bitter. I think the soup could’ve been diluted with two parts of additional water and it still would’ve been salty.

Moving onto the sun menu, the first item was Baby Vegetables in the Garden with “soil” and “pebbles.” The vegetables were fine, but the waiter poured an insane amount of what appeared to be a variant of very salty ranch atop the dish, so that completely overwhelmed any of the vegetable flavor. The “soil” had a very strange texture, and I couldn’t quite figure out what exactly it actually was. It was both soggy and crumbly at the same time. When drenched in ranch, it clumped up a bit, but it still maintained the crumbly component of its texture, which felt weird in my mouth.

The next item from the sun menu was the Reconstructed Caprese with a gelatin-like tomato, cheese, liquid olives (made with reverse spherification), ricotta powder, and basil paste. This was actually surprisingly delicious. I’m usually not a fan of cheese because I think it smells like mold, but the cheese provided with this dish was mild and clean in flavor.

The presentation of this dish was incredibly confusing. The bulk of the food was crammed inside a small sliver running down the center of the plate, while the largest two portions of the plate were occupied by two droplets of marmalade on one side, and the “soil” from before on the other side. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to eat this effectively, but considering that this was supposed to be a reconstructed caprese salad, I cut up the tomato into smaller pieces, moved everything over ton one of the larger compartments, and mixed it all together.

The third and final sun menu item was Tomato Water with pepper spherification and bread foam, served in a test tube. I wasn’t really sure how to consume this either, so at first I took a sip of the tomato water, then later jostled the test tube around so the liquid pepper and bread foam would mix with the tomato water without overflowing. It made sense that this was named tomato water, because it literally tasted like what a tomato would taste like if it was in water form.

Along with this came an item from the ice menu, a crispy crab cone with avocado mousse. The menu said that it was also supposed to come with cilantro and ohba leaf, but I wasn’t able to taste either of those. Overall, I thought this was a solid and straightforward avocado and crab fried cone, and I enjoyed it.

Next is what I believe to be the Citrus Seas Shhhh, which was supposed to be spicy tuna along with a floral yuzu granité. However, the spicy tuna was not spicy, and it came inside a gutted lime. Flavor-wise, it was still good.

During my first dinner, I ordered the Sashimi of Red and White Tuna. When this came out, I wondered whether they didn’t quite know what “sashimi” was supposed to mean, and prepared it like this instead. I looked at the other menu options and didn’t think that it matched the Citrus Seas Shhhh because it was not spicy, so I was thoroughly confused.

For the second dinner, I thought I had gotten the Sashimi of Red and White Tuna for the first dinner, so I ordered the Citrus Seas Shhhh to add variety, only to find out that I got a repeat of what I got during my first dinner. I suspect that this means that my first waiter brought out the wrong item for me.

From the sea menu, I got liquid lobster with bone marrow and caviar. This was an explosion of umami flavor and was probably my favorite dish from Wonderland.

For my main entrée for my first dinner, I got Halibut Cooked in Clear Paper. I assume that the “clear paper” was just a heat-resistant transparent cooking film (or, alternatively, I guess it is technically not impossible that they just used a regular clear bag and served the dish with a side of mushrooms, potato, and microplastics).

I’ve never had fish prepared like this before, and it does seem logical as to why someone might want to cook it this way, but flavor-wise, I couldn’t really tell much of a difference from regular poached fish. The juices were also way too salty and detracted from the overall flavor profile of the dish.

For the main entrée for my second dinner, I got the Chicken and the Egg, served alongside some crispy chicken skin, vegetables, and potato purée. The chicken was extremely dry and underwhelming.

I did not receive a dessert menu, so I was at the mercy of my waiter. For my first dinner, I got The World, a chocolate sphere that melts after the waiter pours warm caramel sauce on top of it.

The caramel sauce and the contents of the chocolate sphere were good, but the chocolate itself was excruciatingly sweet.

During my second dinner, I let my waiter know that I had previously tried The World and requested something different. He came out with the Forbidden Apple, which was basically like an apple gelatin shaped into a small apple, served alongside some pie crust crumbs, a ball of whipped cream, and a few small portions of fruit. This wasn’t exactly bad, but I’d say that the apple gelatin was somewhat unremarkable and didn’t really have a strong apple flavor to it.

Here are some photographs of the interior of the restaurant.

This is what the pathway to the entrance of Wonderland looks like. There was a professional photographer posted in front of this throne under the Wonderland sign who was offering to take photos. I declined because I heard that actually accepting your photographs costs somewhere around US$20.00 per shot, even if you only retrieve the digital versions. If they haven’t already, I am guessing that they will need to start decreasing those prices soon, considering that high-end cameras are much more accessible nowadays and people will likely want to just take their own photos instead.

And now, for a strange story.

For some context, Royal Caribbean forces you to pay extra gratuity on almost everything. I purchased a specialty dining package, and during checkout, I had to pre-pay a mandatory 18% gratuity on top of the cost of the package. To be clear, that is absolutely not how the concept of “gratuity” works. Royal Caribbean also nonconsensually adds a daily US$18.50 gratuity per person that gets added to your daily running SeaPass bill. This gets distributed to all staff, including your stateroom attendant and other service team staff.

At the end of my first dinner at Wonderland, the waiter brought me my check after dessert. Because I got the unlimited specialty dining package, my grand total for the meal was $0, but they still need to receive my signature to confirm that I dined there. However, the waiter added a bit of commentary—he clarified that the gratuity I already paid goes towards the staff, and (his literal words) “not to me.” He specified that if I want to tip him, I will need to add an extra amount to the “additional gratuity” line of the check.

I was confused but didn’t really care enough to think more deeply about this, so I added an extra US$10.00 tip to the check and signed off on it.

Later that day, I thought back to what the waiter told me, and it clicked in my head that he was either being extremely misleading or straight-up lying. I did some research online about how Royal Caribbean’s gratuity system works, and I confirmed that my waiter would absolutely count as the “staff” towards whom the pre-paid gratuity gets distributed. I realized that I got scammed by this man who mixed up my order and couldn’t even properly explain how the Wonderland menu selection system worked.

During this research process, I also found out that you are allowed to adjust the US$18.50 daily gratuity if you speak with Guest Services. I marched straight downstairs and asked them to remove the daily gratuity from my SeaPass bill.

Not only did I permanently have the “do not disturb” sign on my door and skipped housekeeping services for the entirety of my cruise, but I also technically paid double for my cruise because I sailed solo. (If you’re not familiar with how cruise pricing works, they market the cost as “per person,” but when you go to buy the cruise, the expectation is that there will be two people per room, and if you mark that you are going solo, the price doubles because you are basically paying for two people’s worth of a cruise by yourself.) I had already given Royal Caribbean plenty of my money and already pre-paid my mandatory dining gratuity, so I had no issue “retaliating” against this waiter’s lies by removing all the extra fees from my cruise that I could.

 
Anyway, I’m glad I checked out Wonderland on my cruise. As you can tell from my split reviews, the food items were sort of a hit-or-miss, but overall, I like restaurants that are brave enough to experiment with their dishes and try something new, strange, or unusual.

They obviously need better wait staff, both in the sense of integrity and training, but other than that, if you are a food enthusiast, I would lean towards the extra specialty upcharge being worth it for trying out Wonderland one time.

 

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Hello, L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon at the MGM Grand on the Las Vegas Strip

by   •   Food, Las Vegas
 

Joël Robuchon is often considered to be one of the best restaurants you can find in Las Vegas when it comes to high-end dining. Their dégustation (i.e., their tasting menu, but in French because it is a French restaurant) is frequently described as one of the best culinary experiences in town, and I know of a few people who dine there annually to celebrate their favorite special events.

I want to go there at some point, but in the meantime, I decided to dine at the more casual version of the restaurant—L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon at the MGM Grand on the Las Vegas Strip in Paradise, Nevada. Their version of the dégustation is the menu découverte, or the seasonal discovery menu.

Because I was dining alone, I opted for a seat at the bar so that I wouldn’t be occupying a full table by myself, and so I could see the cooks and chefs in action.

Promptly upon my arrival, I was shown the menus and was served a basket of bread. Throughout my meal, I finished this entire basket of bread on my own, and also ate a few more with a refill.

There were three different types of bread, and each of the various dishes had a certain kind of bread with which it seemed to pair the best. For example, I had the miniature baguettes with the richer and fattier dishes, I ate the croissant with the lighter dishes, and I used the cheese bread to dip into any remaining sauces.

I also just generally appreciated that there was a gigantic portion of unlimited bread to go along with the meal.

One of the complaints that I hear from friends who go to omakase or tasting menu restaurants is how they sometimes leave hungry, which adds an unnecessary sense of disappointment to an otherwise great meal. With that being said, restaurants obviously can’t be expected to serve huge portion sizes to satisfy even the most starving diners. Even though prices are partially set by demand, they’re also set by the cost of the underlying ingredients, so the chef needs to find a good balance between portion size and the overall affordability of the meal.

One way to address this is to give cheap carbohydrates as a bonus filler dish for those who are still hungry. For example, some omakase restaurants will ask if you want more food, and if so, they will give you complimentary scoops of sushi rice until you are satisfied. The way L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon gave me a ton of bread reminded me of the scoops of sushi rice from Japanese restaurants, which I liked. The bread is going to be relatively cheap for them to make, but the return on investment in customer happiness will be huge.

I mentioned this in my recent review of Gordon Ramsay Hell’s Kitchen, but I’ve been short of time lately because I once again did my annual “12 Days of Christmas” live streaming marathon around Christmas and New Year’s time in late 2025. I’m finally getting around to catching up on blog posts, so these photos from L’Atelier are also a few weeks old.

When I dined there, they had winter season decorations set up everywhere, which was a nice, festive touch.

Once I let them know that I wanted to try the seasonal discovery menu and picked my preference of main dish, I was given an amuse bouche to sip on while waiting for my first item. I don’t quite remember what the individual components were, but I recall that it was pretty good.

The appetizer was la salade de pommes, which translates to apple salad, with fingerling potatoes, tomato confit, truffle vinaigrette, and fresh shaved black truffle. This was a nice, refreshing start to the tasting menu.

My waiter mentioned that they were offering a special truffle add-on where I could have more freshly shaved black truffle added to additional future dishes for a supplement. Although the truffle on this had a nice, mild, soothing flavor to it, I still opted not to get the supplement so that I could taste the other dishes in the way that the chef originally intended.

The discovery menu had a wine pairing, but because I don’t drink alcohol, I asked for a custom non-alcoholic pairing instead.

For my first drink, I was served their Blushing Mule made from Seedlip Grove 42 non-alcoholic spirit, lime, house-made raspberry syrup, and ginger beer.

I enjoyed this drink, and I thought it went along nicely mainly with the umami dishes. The intensity of the flavor was quite high, and it pierced through the fattiness very well. I’m also a big fan of ginger, so I thought having that familiar zing of ginger enhanced the overall flavor profile of the drink.

The next dish was la homard royale, which translates to lobster royale. This was a Maine lobster dish served under daikon radish marinated in a honey vinaigrette.

To my limited understanding of French cuisine, I was under the impression that the lobster being called “royale” usually means that it is particularly rich, buttery, and/or creamy. Funny enough, I would consider this lobster dish to be quite crisp and clean, rather than creamy. The lobster itself was lightly coated in a somewhat creamy sauce, but paired with the daikon radish, the overall dish was very refreshing.

Next was la châtaigne, which was light chestnut velouté flavored with cardamom and lardons.

Although it tasted good, this was probably my least favorite dish of the night. That is probably unsurprising considering that I’m not the biggest fan of bacon, and lardons are strips of fatty pork, which is basically bacon. I particularly appreciated the miniature baguettes and the the Blushing Mule to go along with this soup, as both helped subdue and offset the intense fattiness.

The pacing of the dinner was a bit slower than I would have hoped. Usually when you’re dining solo, dishes feel like they’re coming out slower because you don’t have a conversation with any dining companions to distract you from the wait; with that being said, I go to restaurants by myself with decent frequency, so even after accounting for that factor, I thought it was still a bit slow.

Fortunately, because I was seated at the bar, I had the entertainment factor of watching the cooks preparing other diners’ dishes.

After the soup came la noix de Saint-Jacques, which translates to scallop; it was prepared seared in a kumquat and coconut sauce, and came topped with a portion of caviar.

I thought this was a great scallop. It was cooked to a great level of tenderness where each bite was soft, but the outside had a nice firmness to it from the sear. The caviar had a strong saltiness you’d expect from good caviar, and that saltiness enhanced and intensified the overall flavor profile of the dish. After finishing the scallop, I dipped some bread into the leftover sauce and finished that as well.

Following the scallop was la morue noire, which translates to black cod, prepared à la plancha and served with mushroom velouté and champagne foam.

I thought the way this fish was cooked made its textural perks similar to the scallop—the inside was soft and flaky, and the outside had a firmer crispiness to it that made the fish taste very good.

At this point, my second beverage of the non-alcoholic beverage pseudo-pairing came out. It was the café noix de coco, which translates to coconut coffee, made with espresso and coconut syrup. This may be shocking considering how much I like fruity drinks, but I actually liked this coffee better than I did the Blushing Mule.

I would describe this more like a dessert drink than what you’d expect from coffee. Although it was overall pretty sweet, it still retained a good balance of both sweetness and bitterness. When I drank it along with a regular dish, the sweetness was emphasized; when I sipped it with my desserts, the bitterness was emphasized, thus creating a great balance in flavor profile with the sweeter desserts.

For my main dish, I opted for la caille, which translates to quail, prepared caramelized and filled with foie gras, along with a side of potato purée. There was a very small portion of potato purée served directly on the plate, but they also gave me an additional hearty portion of it on the side in a separate bowl.

The quail was cooked to perfection. The inside was already tender, but the fact that they stuffed it with foie gras made it even better. The outside had a subtle crispiness to it that enhanced the texture profile.

This potato purée might have been the best potato purée or mashed potatoes I’ve ever had. Usually, restaurants will just overload their potatoes with butter so that it tastes better, but if you’re someone who doesn’t eat much butter, the excessive butteriness becomes pretty obvious and off-putting. This potato purée had the deliciousness of a butter-loaded potato purée, but it didn’t taste insultingly fatty and it still had a strong potato flavor.

If it wasn’t for this, then the other option for the main entrée would’ve been le boeuf, which translates to beef, and was a Jack’s Creek New York Strip steak with braised endive, comté, and jambon.

Throughout my meal, some of the waiters who would come to clear my finished plates would also ask how the food was, and I gave them frank and unfiltered feedback each time. The level of detail of my feedback presumably led them to believe and conclude that I have a decent level of familiarity with food, and thus, we developed some rapport over the evening.

Part-way through eating the quail, a waiter checked in on me, and I let him know how much I liked it so far. After hearing my response, it sounded like he was eager to tell me a story that he had been holding in for the past hour or two. Earlier that evening, there was apparently a woman who ordered the quail, was shocked at how small the portion was, and started complaining about how they deceived her. He added on, “maybe she was expecting an entire chicken!”

I chuckled, but was a bit confused, so I looked down at my own plate. I confirmed that they had only served a quail leg and thigh, which is like a quarter of the bird. I looked back up and was about to suggest that maybe she was just anticipating receiving more components of the quail, but by that point… the waiter had already disappeared.

That concluded the main part of the meal, and we were now left with two final desserts. The first dessert was la figue en sorbet, which translates to fig sorbet, served with blackberry panna cotta and fig confit.

I don’t know if I’ve just been eating low-quality or underwhelming fig my entire life, but this fig sorbet and fig confit actually tasted like a naturally sweet fruit. Mixed with the coconut coffee drink I mentioned earlier, this was probably my all-time favorite fig dish.

The second dessert was la citrouille, which strangely translates to “pumpkin.” The dish was actually cinnamon ice cream with caramelized honeynut squash and pecan streusel.

I like nutty flavors, so as expected, I liked this dessert. The cinnamon ice cream flavor went along nicely with the streusel, and the crumbly texture of it made the ice cream more fun to eat.

Upon the conclusion of my meal and along with my check, I was given a macaron as my mignardise, also sometimes referred to as a petit four.

After biting into this macaron, it occurred to me that L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon did an overall fantastic job at textures on everything they served me. The macaron was soft on the inside and crispy on the outside as you’d expect from a good macaron, but there was also a ring around the edge of the shell that was extra crispy that added even more depth to the contrast in texture.

I thought all the dishes played around with texture in a more “advanced” way like this, which was nice.

I was seated at the main bar with a view of the kitchen, but there was a separate alcohol bar in the corner; this is what it looked like:

And finally, here is a shot of a flower arrangement situated outside the restaurant:

Seasonal discovery menu$ 255.00
Blushing Mule$  18.00
Café noix de coco$  18.00
Sales tax (8.375%)$  24.37
Gratuity$  45.00
Total$ 360.37
This table to the right shows how much I paid.

Although this was a very good restaurant, it wasn’t quite at the level of being a particularly stand-out experience. To be clear, the quality of the food was far better than many restaurants I’ve been to, and my taste buds had a great time eating everything. However, there wasn’t anything notably crazy, gimmicky, or memorable about it (which is not inherently a bad thing, and could be considered a positive for some).

This reminded me a lot of Jeune et Jolie, another French restaurant I went to when I was visiting Southern California. I was under the impression that French cuisine fundamentally relies heavily on butter, cream, cheese, and other fatty ingredients to serve as a foundation for their flavor profiles. However, both L’Atelier and Jeune et Jolie had cleaner and more refreshing dishes. This could potentially be attributed to local differences specific to regional specializations within France; if that is the case, then this region of French food is something that I much prefer over other French food I’ve had in the past.

Although I would say that I do recommend this restaurant, it isn’t such a strong recommendation that I would suggest prioritizing it if you have a limited number of days and a limited number of meals to try in Las Vegas. Also, keep in mind that this is quite a high pricepoint for a meal. Even without the two non-alcoholic beverages, this seasonal discovery menu exceeds US$300.00 per person after tax and gratuity.

With all that being said, I think this was a successful “trial” for me for the full-blown dégustation at Joël Robuchon. If I was being really picky about value for money, it might not be worth it, but in that case, I guess a lot of other fine dining restaurants also probably wouldn’t be worth it either. I heard that the complete dégustation can take up to four hours; my experience at L’Atlier took about two and a half hours, and I enjoyed it enough that I would not mind a four-hour version of it in the future as well.

 

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