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| The bar at Lollapalooza |
Do you fancy tucking into the deep, dark recesses of a tuna eye socket, poking around on the fatty, gelatinous mess and eating those wobbly bits with shreds of deliciously muscled flesh?
Welcome to Lollapalooza at Keong Saik Road, the gutsy offspring of Lolla, where small plates are eschewed in favour of sharing plates - some bigger than others - and Mediterranean inspirations make way for a freestyle cuisine unrestrained by borders or your imagination.
In a refreshing departure from the well trodden, more-chic-than-thou counter-style dining couture that’s all the rage in the city, Lollapalooza sports a breezy Japanese-Scandinavian inspired interior with clean lines and olive-accented neutral tones.
The main dining room packs in 24 diners, offering them a panorama of the open kitchen where a custom-built brick oven holds court. Whilst scanning the kitchen, you won't miss head chef, Issachar Lee, the former chef-patron of the now-defunct Kaixo. Further indoors, a 26-seat communal table with Volakas marble-top beckons for bigger groups (and those who don’t mind dining with strangers).
Featuring meats (including a generous handful of offals), seafood as well as vegetables grilled in the apple wood-fueled brick oven, Lollapalooza’s menu follows no format. There are no starters or mains here and the menu is assembled daily to reflect the fresh produce on hand. With over twenty items available daily, it offers something for everyone, whether you seek comfort in the familiar taste of roast chicken (half for S$25) and roasted lamb rack (S$38), or harbour a streak for discovering something deliciously off beat.
We suggest you pry into the Lee’s whimsy with the latter.
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| Tartare of dog cockle |
From a recent dinner, French dog cockle (S$30) arrived tartare style in a delightfully light chive-flecked olive oil dressing perfumed with finger lime. The bivalve, which looked more like clam than the cockle that we are familiar with, was deliciously meaty and just a tad crunchy, offering a hint of brininess with each bite.
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| Oven-roasted lamb heart with cherry tomatoes |
The oven-roasted lamb hearts (S$18), which could pass off as generously portioned button mushrooms in appearance, were all luscious and robust with a subtly buoyant texture and none of the offensive “lamby” flavour. If there’s one item you shouldn’t miss, it’s this.
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| Corned veal tongue |
Don’t heart hearts? Try the corned veal tongue (S$45). First brined then poached before it’s roasted in the oven, the tongue unleashed an even more meaty flavour than the heart but with a velvety texture that resembled tender beef. You’d have to slice through its leather-tough facade to get to the moist insides. Served with a drizzle of salsa verde, execution was spot-on.
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| Fried pig's ear |
Even if hearts and tongues are not down your alley, consider the pig’s ear. Served with huge leaves of radicchio, the slices of ear were braised in stock for hours to tame it to a soft and gelatinous submission before frying to a crispy, golden hue.
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| Tuna eyeball |
If you could summon up the courage to tackle a braised tuna eye the size of your fist, by all means. First braised in milk, then finished in the brick oven and served with salsa verde, the goey-creamy-fatty delicacy struck a chord with the inner fish head lovers in us. Even if the eye-popping price tag of S$40 seemed a tad costly for a scorned part that we thought were usually discarded, we rationalized its rarity, its sheer size and its collagen-packed goodness (to say nothing of how lip-smacking it was).
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| Wagyu ribeye cap |
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| Potato terrine went particularly well with the wagyu ribeye cap |
No one will blame you if you choose to go a little mainstream with wagyu ribeye cap (grade A4) from Gunma Perfecture, Japan (180g, S$55). Cooked directly on the warm ambers of the apple wood, the choice slab was served rare with discernible marbles of fat and a whisper of smoky tang. It went particularly well with the potato terrine (S$16), which arrived with a side of pungent sautéed garlic greens.
Our verdict?
We applaud Lollapalooza’s bold menu. Clearly, handling such delicate parts like hearts, tongues and eye balls requires guts and spot on execution, something which Lee seems to have down pat (we love that heavy creams and sauces are not used to mask the flavours of the food here). But a bold menu like this, which at times comes with equally bold prices, may prove contentious, even providing fodder for foodie discourse.
Unless you're planning to come here just to tackle a plate of roasted chicken, we suggest that you come with an open mind.
Whilst you’re at it, enjoy the wines and grower Champagnes put together by the same team behind the Wine Spectator-approved wine list from Lolla.
© Evelyn Chen 2013