Tatto, Jalan Damai

Posted on April 2, 2009 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Random Thought #1

I tasted an awesome macaron two days ago. Yes, “an”, as in One. Why not more? Remember your first kiss in the rain? Nothing after that is ever as amazing.

Random Thought #2

I’m in love with Paco Roncero. I used to be a molecular gastronomy virgin, but a couple of days ago, I had a small sample of his mastery. All my senses were ignited by this man who used to train under Ferran Adria. For a limited time only (until 4 April 2009), you will be able to sample his creations at Senses, KL Hilton. The price? How can anyone place a price tag on brilliance such as this? Fine, it’s RM450++, and I’m still working on Bald Eagle. An early anniversary present, perhaps, darling? We have to top LifeforBeginners‘ wonderful week of wooing (www), if that’s even possible.

Nahhh…..

Random Thought #3

Is that smoke coming out of her nostrils?

You’re beautiful….you’re beautiful….you’re beautiful, it’s true…..

******

T.A.T.T.O.

Focaccia, risotto and fagottini

When I first heard that Al Nafourah at Le Meridien was going to be replaced by an Italian restaurant, the first thought that crossed my mind was, “Do we need another Italian restaurant?” Then when Bald Eagle mentioned to me that an Italian restaurant had replaced Kafe Ceylon Hill at Jalan Damai (a place where we used to organise quite a bit of our social functions), again, the same thought ran through my head like a Bloomberg stock feed.

“What’s it called?”, I asked.
“Tatto.”
“You mean, Tattoo,” I offered kindly.
“No, I mean, Tatto.” Firm and resolute.
“The O fell off, didn’t it?”
“My nostrils are laughing.”

(Oooh, 2 nostril jokes in a day.)

Tatto interior

Tatto means sense of touch. It somehow sounds lovelier in English. Then again, I only know 1 1/2 languages and thus hardly qualify as a linguist. The decor is understated, simple and elegant. Lots of black and red. Fits perfectly with that little cocktail dress.

Portobello mushrooms

I was hooked from the moment the focaccia was placed before us. The balsamic vinegar and olive oil combo did nothing much for me, but the bread was saturated in oil and butter making it a delicious way to start our meal. From the antipasti menu, we ordered the ovenbaked portobello mushroom with tomato and mozarella, which was presented like a croquet and fried in breadcrumbs. Quite a change from the usual preparation, but still pleasing enough, especially with all that cheese oozing out with every bite. The herby tomato sauce provided a nice tangy flavour to the overall experience. He had the bresaola (air dried meat), sliced paper thin, with grapefruit and cherry tomatoes with a lemon dressing.

Clockwise, from top left: fagottini, bresaola, the bar at Tatto, risotto

A special menu is prepared weekly highlighting the chef’s specials, and it is worthwhile ordering something from this menu as opposed to the regular ala carte. My homemade fagottini (basically, little dough parcels encasing veal and ricotta, and suspiciously resembling wantans) with an asparagus brown butter sauce was just wonderful. My only complaint would be that I could barely taste (or see) the veal, but everything else was good. Because of the cheesy buttery taste, the quantity presented was just perfect. Anything more, and the theory of diminishing returns applies. His crab risotto with sauteed tiger prawns and asparagus was bursting with flavour, with visible bits of seafood in generous portions. Not as creamy and smooth as I’d expect it to be, but still very tasty. The pasta won hands down, of course.

Chocolate mousse

The world’s pretty small, and chances are, you’ll find out that there are only two degrees of separation between yourself and the stranger next to you. So as it turned out, and to cut a long story short, Bald Eagle had once communicated with one of the owners of the restaurant over a piece of bad meat in another restaurant where the owner used to work.

“You got her into trouble?” I asked Bald Eagle.

“No, they were actually very apologetic about it,” he replied.

“You reckon she’s gonna spit in your risotto?” I teased him. “You won’t be able to tell spit from cream, you know.”

No, she didn’t spit in his risotto. Hehe. In fact, dear Tabitha went one step further by offering us desserts on the house. A sampler, if you like. Two pieces of chocolate which she called chocolate mousse. And true enough, upon biting into the thin surface, the centre was a mousse-like texture. Absolutely lovely.

Prices are comparable with other Italian restaurants like Nero Vivo and Chiaroscuro. For food alone (and after tax), we paid almost RM180 for two, for starters and mains only. The main edge Tatto has over many other restaurants is the personable service they provide to the customers, mostly because the owners are also on the floor giving knowledgeable advice on menu selection. After all, nothing irks one more than receiving glazed looks from untrained waitstaff when asked for recommendations, eh? And the food’s great too.

Also check out Eat Drink KL‘s thoughts on Tatto.

Tatto
No. 19, Jalan Damai
Off Jalan Tun Razak
50400 Kuala Lumpur

Tel: 03-2166 5212

Open daily (except Mondays) for lunch and dinner. Closed Mondays.

Chiaroscuro, KL

Posted on June 7, 2008 by Lyrical Lemongrass

1.

“I am living in a landscape that marks the clock
Where heat is the brief midsummer play
Of jasmine on the slated roofs.”

It is the season of the coming and going of friends.

A brief weekend of girlish giggles over insightful, whimsical, intellectual, playful Readings at Seksan’s, where she read her poems to an attentive crowd, shortly after he read his lovestruck lovelorn writings.

“I’ve lost that endless season
Of sun and rain
Where I eked out existence like a
Lizard on a rock
Quick to run and fix my beady eye
Upon the blazing sun.

Recall, the sudden squall
The gust of wind
The towering rumble from canyons of air
Beating on my pedaling schoolgirl frame
Lonely, toiling uphill past the house
of love lost and friends betrayed.”

He brought a delicious butter cake that sang of sunshine and laughter. It was warm and rich, kissed with rosemary syrup and a hint of sea salt. We ate it after Readings, under the trees, under the setting sun.

2.

We dined at Chiaroscuro. Not to be confused with churrascaria (a brazilian steakhouse), this is an Italian tratorria which means light and dark, referring mostly to the decor, with simply done up walls in grey and tableware in white in muted lighting all around. We were served thick cut bread to dip into little bowls of sundried tomatoes in olive oil.

Greek salad (RM22)

The key to a good salad is fresh and good quality ingredients. The greek style salad with capsicum, onion, cucumber, fresh tomatoes and fennel with the most wonderful fluffy feta cheese was delicious.

Whitebait polpette with balsamic reduction (RM26), Bresaola (RM28)

The fresh whitebait polpette had the appearance of fritters rather than meatballs. The balsamic reduction with its lovely syrupy consistency elevated this dish to higher level. The thinly sliced bresaola, with its salty taste from the curing of the meat, tasted lovely with the grilled mushroom, mixed salad and smoked cheese. The dish was drizzled with lemon olive oil.

“I’ve lost the peculiar awareness burning
At the timid nape of my neck
At tender junctions of elbow and knees
The brown peel chafing away to new skin.”

Clockwise from top left: Beef carpaccio served with rocket cress salad, shaved parmesan & truffle oil dressing (RM28), Pan roasted pork tenderloin with potato, spinach and balsamic vinegar reduction (RM46), Spring chicken with mediterranean style vegetables (RM34), Homemade fettuccine pasta with crab meat and baby spinach (RM28)

“Sudden morning incense makes me long
For my grandmother’s red altar
And the Jungle Book,
Hiding from afternoon times tables
My mother makes me chant from a sheet.

Trailing after her at the market
The loud,”CHOP” of steel parting meat
The bag of chicken feet, or nangka
Or petai, pigs liver, roses and chat
To the Aunties of the street
With their curious eyes lingering
Between my shoulderblades.”

Other than the balsamic vinegar reduction, nothing masked the robust flavour of the pork tenderloin. The spring chicken was roasted well, but lacked saltiness, an easily rectifiable deficiency. The carpaccio was matched with rather strong ingredients, but they complemented each other rather well.

“Here the kinetic buds foretell
The rain of blossom on the black tar road
Endless patter of water at midnight
Fills me with cool relief
Seasons come and
Leave my past to another country.”

From a poem entitled “Lost Seasons of the Sun and Rain” by Pey Colborne, read at Readings at Seksan’s on May 24, 2008.

Chiaroscuro
Ground Floor, 38 Bidara, (Behind Istana Hotel)
30 Jalan Bedara,
50200 Kuala Lumpur.
Tel: 03-2144 8006

Also see The Zest of Life.

Sunday Lunch at Cameo, 10 Semantan, Kuala Lumpur

Posted on November 4, 2007 by Lyrical Lemongrass

Bald Eagle and I were whizzing up Jalan Semantan towards Damansara Heights at about 11.30 this morning where the plan was to enjoy some nice sausages from Jarrod & Rawlins, when suddenly we spotted the relatively new building complex, 10 Semantan, on our left.

“Heylet’sgothere.”

“Yahorwehaven’tbeento10Semantanbefore,ok.”

“Youknowwhat’sgoodthere?”

“Yupquickturn!!”

The entire conversation happened in a span of 5 seconds.

With my quick reflexes, I deftly maneuvered my little car into the sharp turning on the left, with barely inches to spare (Bald Eagle may have a different story to tell, but this isn’t his blog, is it? *wink*).

Bald Eagle was in the mood for Cameo, a French and Italian fine dining restaurant, and since he was buying, who was I to question him?

As we stepped into the restaurant, I immediately fell in love with the decor, vintage with dark wood and wallpapered walls that matched the comfortable black and white chairs. There was nothing pretentious about this place. The waiters were pleasant and affable (maybe because we were the first customers on a beautiful Sunday morning?) and they even endured my nonsensical chatter.

We shared a starter, baked escargots with a garlic herb sauce (RM23++). The escargots were cooked without the shell in a tasty sauce which we mopped up with some lovely olive bread shaped like muffins.

Our mains were from the Special Menu. I had a Grilled Butterfish (RM38++). I’ve always been a fan of this oily, fatty fish and this dish didn’t dissapoint. Served with asparagus, grilled eggplant (my favourite!), sliced potatoes sprinkled with rosemary, cherry tomatoes, kalamata olives and sundried tomatoes, the tomato based sauce with its slightly sour taste went wonderfully with the butterfish.

To tell you the truth, when my eyes settled on the words butterfish and eggplant on the menu, signals were instantly sent to my brain to order this dish. BUT if I had looked further down on the menu, like Bald Eagle did, I might have changed my mind. He ordered the Pan-fried Salmon Fillet (RM42++) which was served with boiled potatoes, sauteed spinach, asparagus and salmon roe in a mascarpone cream sauce that is to die for. The flavour was just amazing and the salmon fillet was cooked to perfection – lightly seared on both sides and the flesh moist and firm.

We shared a tiramisu (RM18++), which came, interestingly enough, in a spoon rest. Served with strawberries and chocolate shavings and the obligatory cocoa powder dusted over it, I could taste a hint of alcohol in the dessert. It was nice, but I’m not sure if I’d order it again, having tasted better tiramisu at say, Neroteca. Next time, I’m going to try the Creme Brulee as recommended by Memoirs of a Chocoholic.

Bald Eagle had a pint of Guinness as he was feeling melancholic about our recent holidays and wanted a taste of nostalgia, but he claimed that it wasn’t the real stuff. Something about water not coming from the River Liffey. Poppycock, I say.

The entire bill came up to RM163, but upon enquiring, we were told that they were giving a 20% discount if we paid with a HSBC credit card. I had one, and it saved us a bit. Bald Eagle and I left the premises thanking each other for a wonderful lunch. “Thank you.” “No, thank YOU.” “No, THANK YOU.” Fockit. I shouldn’t have offered to pay with MY card.

Cameo
B-0-3, No.10, Jalan Semantan,
Damansara Heights,
50490 Kuala Lumpur.

Tel: 03-2096 1999

Opening hours: 12.00 noon to 3.00pm, 6.00pm till late. Mondays to Sundays.

The good people of Abu Dhabi may click HERE to view the pictures.

A Whiff of Lemongrass

NOT a food blog

Category Archives: Food Type: Italian

Tatto, Jalan Damai

Chiaroscuro, KL

1.

“I am living in a landscape that marks the clock
Where heat is the brief midsummer play
Of jasmine on the slated roofs.”

“I’ve lost that endless season
Of sun and rain
Where I eked out existence like a
Lizard on a rock
Quick to run and fix my beady eye
Upon the blazing sun.

Recall, the sudden squall
The gust of wind
The towering rumble from canyons of air
Beating on my pedaling schoolgirl frame
Lonely, toiling uphill past the house
of love lost and friends betrayed.”

2.

“I’ve lost the peculiar awareness burning
At the timid nape of my neck
At tender junctions of elbow and knees
The brown peel chafing away to new skin.”

“Sudden morning incense makes me long
For my grandmother’s red altar
And the Jungle Book,
Hiding from afternoon times tables
My mother makes me chant from a sheet.

Trailing after her at the market
The loud,”CHOP” of steel parting meat
The bag of chicken feet, or nangka
Or petai, pigs liver, roses and chat
To the Aunties of the street
With their curious eyes lingering
Between my shoulderblades.”

“Here the kinetic buds foretell
The rain of blossom on the black tar road
Endless patter of water at midnight
Fills me with cool relief
Seasons come and
Leave my past to another country.”

Sunday Lunch at Cameo, 10 Semantan, Kuala Lumpur

1.

“I am living in a landscape that marks the clock Where heat is the brief midsummer play Of jasmine on the slated roofs.”

“I’ve lost that endless season Of sun and rain Where I eked out existence like a Lizard on a rock Quick to run and fix my beady eye Upon the blazing sun.

Recall, the sudden squall The gust of wind The towering rumble from canyons of air Beating on my pedaling schoolgirl frame Lonely, toiling uphill past the house of love lost and friends betrayed.”

2.

“I’ve lost the peculiar awareness burning At the timid nape of my neck At tender junctions of elbow and knees The brown peel chafing away to new skin.”

“Sudden morning incense makes me long For my grandmother’s red altar And the Jungle Book, Hiding from afternoon times tables My mother makes me chant from a sheet.

Trailing after her at the market The loud,”CHOP” of steel parting meat The bag of chicken feet, or nangka Or petai, pigs liver, roses and chat To the Aunties of the street With their curious eyes lingering Between my shoulderblades.”

“Here the kinetic buds foretell The rain of blossom on the black tar road Endless patter of water at midnight Fills me with cool relief Seasons come and Leave my past to another country.”

“I am living in a landscape that marks the clock
Where heat is the brief midsummer play
Of jasmine on the slated roofs.”

“I’ve lost that endless season
Of sun and rain
Where I eked out existence like a
Lizard on a rock
Quick to run and fix my beady eye
Upon the blazing sun.

Recall, the sudden squall
The gust of wind
The towering rumble from canyons of air
Beating on my pedaling schoolgirl frame
Lonely, toiling uphill past the house
of love lost and friends betrayed.”

“I’ve lost the peculiar awareness burning
At the timid nape of my neck
At tender junctions of elbow and knees
The brown peel chafing away to new skin.”

“Sudden morning incense makes me long
For my grandmother’s red altar
And the Jungle Book,
Hiding from afternoon times tables
My mother makes me chant from a sheet.

Trailing after her at the market
The loud,”CHOP” of steel parting meat
The bag of chicken feet, or nangka
Or petai, pigs liver, roses and chat
To the Aunties of the street
With their curious eyes lingering
Between my shoulderblades.”

“Here the kinetic buds foretell
The rain of blossom on the black tar road
Endless patter of water at midnight
Fills me with cool relief
Seasons come and
Leave my past to another country.”