Osaka star chef makes shaky Singapore debut with grill concept at Hanazen

NEW RESTAURANT

Hanazen #01-21/22 CHIJMES 30 Victoria Street Singapore 187996 Tel: 9820-2963 Open for dinner only Tues to Sun: 6pm to 11pm

THERE once was a chef from Osaka Whose cooking sent hearts all a-flutter Now he’s Asia’s sixth best We expect nothing less But – chicken on sticks at a counter??

EXPECTATIONS. Life would be so much easier if we didn’t have them. It might also be less tasty, but at least we wouldn’t be quibbling about whether chicken backsides qualify as Michelin fare, or if bamboo skewers are an appropriate mode of table presentation when you have so much other crockery around. 

We don’t normally look down on the tail end of a chicken; we are even partial to them in the right setting – like a good, even Michelin-starred yakitori. But not in Hanazen – hyped as the Singapore debut of wunderkind chef Yusuke Takada of Osaka’s La Cime – whom we thought might give us something more than just stylised kushiyaki and charge a flat S$250 for it. 

Granted, we’ve never been to the real La Cime, which means “The Peak” in French and serves the kind of food a chef who worked in Taillevent and Le Meurice would cook, with Japanese influences. The restaurant has two Michelin stars; it placed sixth in the 2022 Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants list, but we can’t find a single photo on its website showing any dish on a stick. Is it wrong to want to be wowed?

With no proven kushiyaki track record besides being from the country that invented it, Takada sets out to grill in Hanazen’s almost-upscale premises at Chijmes, with the kicker being that this is kushiyaki married with La Cime’s French flair, so expect grilled skewers of chicken innards and other meats draped in an array of European condiments and sauces. 

Our chicken tail, for example, is chopped and marinated and then grilled with shrimp and set next to a dollop of porcini cream for dipping. The dip is thick and intense, but it keeps trying to distract us from savouring the juicy little nuggets of broiled fat and overcooked prawn that taste better on their own.

We’re seated at the counter in low-lit surroundings. The space also includes a large private room and a semi-private cul-de-sac, leaving precious little room to avoid bumping into the staff while getting in or out. The open kitchen gets the bulk of the space, with two facing charcoal grills and counter space for prepping, with more cooking done at the back. 

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The kitchen crew works quietly, oblivious to the people they’re cooking for. The Japanese head chef (we presume) is shy to say more, apart from an obligatory description of each dish. The details come from just one server who seems to know the menu.

There is little omotenashi to speak of. No one greets you at the entrance – you just sort of wander in until someone notices you and gives you a seat. Service is rushed throughout, with plates cleared before you can even finish chewing, as if someone really wants to catch the staff bus before it leaves. And it’s not even 7pm. 

There is just one omakase for everyone, and it kicks off with a cup of hot dashi to prep your palate. It’s more robust than usual, like a consomme of chicken and bonito – the latter left in too long, so the finish is bitter. 

A solitary black ball is presented as if it holds the secret to the universe – but only if the secret is an odd mix of minced chicken and chicken floss in a deep-fried charcoal shell, glued to its plate with a dab of buah keluak sauce. It’s the localised version of La Cime’s signature blood sausage Boudin Dog – called Singa-Dog. Why the chef prefers to serve us our own food rather than the real thing is a puzzler.  That said, it’s an agreeable piping hot snack, even this dog has no bite. 

The momentum builds with a silky “you say panna cotta, we say chawanmushi” – dramatically presented in its own wooden ice box. It reveals a ceremonial glass bowl filled with a coconut-infused savoury custard topped with hamaguri clams and crisp slices of udo or wild asparagus. It’s drizzled with barely scented pandan oil and a refreshing take on the original, especially with the crunch of thin toast topped with minced nanohana (spring greens) and bonito flakes. 

That, and a decent monkfish liver and sauerkraut-like choucroute deftly balancing richness and acidity are the only hints we get of the real La Cime, before the grill is fired up for the main event. 

Served both on and off-stick, we get a parade of chicken hearts topped with minced olives and mustard; chicken skin and spices; abalone and gizzard in garlic butter; inventive raisin-herb sauce on chicken liver; lamb and beef skewers paired with yoghurt and classic red wine sauce in turn. Sometimes they’re chewy, sometimes they’re not. Sometimes they’re nice, other times just passable. We try to dawdle, finding ways to hold on to our plates a little longer. But we’re unnerved by the heavy breathing close to our ear, and let go in mid-chew. 

At least we get time to enjoy some velvety homemade green tea ice cream with a deep infusion of matcha, that pairs well with a slightly funky, fizzy fermented banana cream.

As always, there’s a caveat. Hanazen is still very new, although S$250 is a high price to pay to watch them practise. But for the patient, there’s lunch to look forward to, and possibly a menu of brasserie fare. So give it some time, but, well, manage your expectations.

Rating: 6

WHAT OUR RATINGS MEAN 10: The ultimate dining experience 9-9.5: Sublime 8-8.5: Excellent 7-7.5: Good to very good 6-6.5: Promising 5-5.5: Average Our review policy: The Business Times pays for all meals at restaurants reviewed on this page. Unless specified, the writer does not accept hosted meals prior to the review’s publication.