Sorrel (Singapore) with Johnston Teo

I meet many young chefs in my job but rare is one who helms an eatery as an executive at just 24 years old. And even more rare if the chef in question boasts a resume with a multiple year-stint at the who’s who of Singapore’s dining scene. Of course, terribly lucky is the boy who’s got the attention of hotelier-restaurateur, Loh Lik Peng (“Peng”), and who snags him as a co-owner.

Enter fresh-faced Johnston Teo, 24-year-old executive chef of Peng’s newly opened Sorrel, a produce-driven “bistronomy” where fine dining meets affordable price points in an unassuming 48-seat conservation shop house at Boon Tat Street.

Business Times cheekily labeled Teo a “culinary love child” of Julien Royer (Jaan) and Ryan Clift (Tippling Club); and no matter how distasteful the analogy may seem, it cannot be more apt.

Teo has charted an admirable resume that spans 2 years at Tippling Club, a few months at Pollen and, most recently, 1.5 years as sous chef at Jaan. While you will not find Clift’s sound wave sonifier or Royer’s live Brittany blue lobsters in Teo’s black tiles-clad open concept kitchen, the sure-footed young chef’s new-age cooking will demand that you do a double take. It’s a restrained approach that distills the highlights of his kitchen experiences in fine dining institutions. 

Fortunately, diners will not need to break the bank to score a meal here.

The 3-course lunch (S$42) is a chop-chop affair. If you have time, come for the 5-course lunch (S$88), which also doubles-up as one of 2 options at night, when the more extensive 7-course dinner (S$118) is recommended. 

To signal the restaurant’s haute intention, Yeo sends out a small parade of snacks (like sour cream onion chips and yam croquettes) and amuse-bouche (think Granny smith espuma with soda made from the same apple) to whet your appetite.

The 7-course dinner starts humbly with a bijou dish of ikura pearls-studded sweet corn with pickled shallots in a shallow pool of conpoy (dried shellfish) dashi. And an assortment of mustard seeds-strewed vegetables including kohlrabi (German for cabbage turnip), radish and pickled radish dressed in mustard oil and barely there horseradish cream. Whilst not the most memorable, both dishes showcase the young chef’s forte at teasing the palate with unpretentious ingredients and his uncanny knack at coaxing maximum flavours from his produce with minimum plate fan fare.

It hits a high with the langoustine. In all its voluptuous glory, the toasted almond crumble-crowned langoustine crouches on a parcel of quivering foie gras. On its side are perfectly cooked heirloom carrots in a bright-orange tinted carrot and almond reduction that is like nothing I’ve tasted. Delicious.

The seaweed-themed octopus dish is also a winner. Cooked in a sous-vide bath with thyme and garlic oil for 4 hours and sautéed just before serving, the gigantic tentacle arrives on a squishy bed of algae-infused sago alongside seaweed butter-glazed seasonal vegetables and dashi-scented seaweed salad. If there’s anything that needs a tweak, it's the way-too-spongy octopus that could do with less time in the sous-vide machine (chef says it’s an easy fix).

There is also a no-frills sous-vide chicken dish with caramelized onion puree and a branch of maitake mushroom decorated with a spear of asparagus. It’s well executed but by no means a highlight.

If you are deliberating the 2 menu options at dinner, bear in mind that the smaller 5-course menu (available at lunch and dinner at S$88) is not a microcosm of the more extensive menu although both may share a starter and a dessert.

Consider this standout from the smaller menu: wagyu short rib with hay-smoked bone marrow in a field of corn kernels, leek and seaweed with pillowy-soft homemade agnolotti stuffed with potato puree. It’s spot on, it’s hearty and, most definitely a crowd-pleaser.

Desserts are, on the whole, understated but with a young, Paris-trained pastry chef (and Instagram heavyweight) in the back-of-house, we remain positively hopeful.

Teo may have trained in the shadow of big name chefs but his cuisine has strutted confidently out of the shadows and onto a borderless playing field where the rules of the game are determined by him and him alone. 

If our free-form dinner is anything to go by, you’re in for a treat.