Stepping into the swanky premises of Nadodi, an upmarket restaurant in Kuala Lumpur that reimagines South Asian cuisine in a novel way, the question briefly presents itself, but evaporates the moment the first course arrives. Honestly, if we had wanted just food, we could have had a meal in the hawker centre downstairs. We would have ordered a steaming bowl of laksa, opted for a roti canai, or chosen bak kut the, a pork rib dish cooked in broth.
Instead, we are here at Nadodi for the veritable art on our plates, the incredible research each dish builds on, and the use of exquisite locally sourced ingredients.
At Noma in Copenhagen, often voted as the best restaurant in the world, we had once lost count of the delirious number of dishes that arrived on the table in remarkably rapid succession. The restaurant takes a no-nonsense attitude, and expects its guests not to dillydally. Given a tour of the sprawling complex that houses this ‘new Nordic cuisine’ restaurant’s dining and research facilities, our host pointed at a building where chef Rene Redzepi was busy experimenting and planning next season’s food extravaganza with a team of his finest staff. Here, they do take all the time they need, none of this can be hurried.
That same week we had flown to the Faroe Islands, a self-governing archipelago and part of Denmark, to dine at KOKS, billed by the New Yorker as the ‘world’s most remote foodie destination’. After a 40-min taxi ride, we were dropped at the water’s edge of a small lake in which the full moon reflected in full silvery splendour. An old four-wheel jeep awaited to take us to an ancient refurbished traditional cottage that was now the site of KOKS‘ operations.
Each dish arrived with a story rooted in local cooking techniques, the poetics of which resonated with the islands’ mercurial weather and rugged landscape. The r198st kjot, or semi-dried mutton, was not my thing. But one of the other guests seated at the communal table was quick to lift it off my plate. A food blogger by profession, or so he claimed, he carried a formidable camera with him and photographed it as one of the highlights of the evening.That’s perhaps the most remarkable thing about it all – we don’t necessarily even like all the dishes. Nadodi’s 10-course tasting menu, ‘Coconut Chronicles’, takes you on a journey down the Coromandel Coast and into Chettinad country before reaching the shores of Jaffna, Sri Lanka. Having taken note of the restaurant beforehand, we informed them that we wanted an alternative for the course that included lamb brain, a delicacy from Tamil Nadu.Sometimes, it helps to find out what it was after the eating is done. In Reykjavik, we were surprised to learn that whale meat could be this tasty. On Svalbard, between Norway and the North Pole, we once had seal meat, carefully curated and served as tiny slivers.
Yet, more than anything, it’s often edible plants and flowers that truly dazzle. Meza Malonga, a restaurant and food lab in Rwanda’s capital Kigali, sources them from the nearby hills, making you realise why its gorillas, munching away on the abundance of greenery, seem so content. At Quito’s Nuema, we found flowers on our plate that were unique to Ecuador’s highlands and almost too pretty to eat. Also, this hesitation evaporated instantly once the first leaves had melted on our tongues, leaving behind faint traces of citrus, rose and the dew that covers grass early morning.
Once, the joke was that having dinner at an art nouveau restaurant in France would leave us longing for a hamburger afterwards, a trip to McDonald’s the only solution to quell actual hunger. The veritable cornucopia of dishes that current stars on the gastronomic front serve won’t leave you hungry. Hundreds of dollars are gone in merely a few hours. This is never about the food per se, but the memory and inspiration that will sustain you for much longer afterwards.