We joined a group of fine ladies dressed finely for the evening. We sat and chatted for a few minutes in the living room before the fine host led us to the dining room.
The first time we were in this fine house was over a year ago when Bella Yuchengco cooked a mean Chinese lauriat. I still remember the very nice shark’s fin soup.
My Darleng, like most women, can never forget the very small details, like the nicely embroidered wet towels in silver trays given to every guest. The plates were in different colors and shapes, and the coffee served in fine, colorful tiny cups with cute little sugar cubes brought in all the way from Japan. Everything was so detailed and obviously meticulously planned. Pinag-isipan ng husto. Mary Ann, who is a stow-everything-back-freak, could not imagine how many china cabinets they must have in the kitchen.
This time around, it was not Chinese food, but contemporary French-style cuisine that was served, and it was not Bella who prepared the dinner but her daughter Sunshine, who has some impressive credentials behind her: a graduate of Tante Marie’s cooking school in San Francisco, the Institute of Culinary Education in New York, and Ecole Ritz Escoffier in Paris.
We were a group of 14 around one table. A Philippine Tatler mega host awardee, and Negros-based cabalen, three Negrenses from different fields, a mother and daughter team in the education business, a famous lady restaurateur, a retired Napa Valley-based lady, a lady much involved in Philippine arts and culture, a young couple expecting their first baby, and Bella. And like the Chinese lunch last year, there were more women than men. And when there are more women than men, expect the guests to behave.
The first course was an amuse bouche, which literally means palate teaser in French, actually a trio of tiny teasers served on a square clear-glass plate. It was an interesting medley of mango melon gazpacho (that cold Spanish soup) topped with prosciutto slivers served in a shooter. Yes, of course, we took it in one swoop. Next to it were an inch-cube mushroom box, a shallow cup of crisp pork and an apple dumpling (reminiscent of roast pork/apple sauce) floating on a seafood bisque.
Sunshine must be a patient neat freak with very tiny fingers to be able to work on such small presentations. And judging by the portions, she must not have an appetite as big as my Darleng’s.
The fine ladies, who indeed were behaving finely as befitting the ambiance and setting, did not want to touch the food as they were busy admiring the ephemeral artwork.
Next to be served were the real appetizers for the evening – three of them in fact; again everything was in miniature. The first was a salmon duo presented differently: a panna cotta served on a stained- glass bridge candle holder (bought from a tiangge, we were told), and a tartare served on a Lilliputian cone (from Tokyo) standing in a hand-painted jarlet.
Then, there was a small fritter, too, which looked like the humble okoy. But no, it was an arrogant fritter, befitting a snooty French gourmand. For it was a foie gras fritter with a fig balsamic vinegar. Even the vinegar was sosyal. The fritter came crisp but I wanted more foie gras.
The accompanying watermelon gazpacho and cheese napoleon were refreshing, with the cheese giving it a nice ending and bite.
Now, our palates were ready for the main course. The waiter carried it in a gray slate slab with jagged edges, and I wondered what could be on it. It held a ceramic shell, and in it were bay scallops with black bean sauce. Next to it was a spring lamb cutlet with pink peppercorn cream, and the lamb came really pink and tender. Very nicely and finely done, I must say.
As no French would call it a French dinner without the cheese, blue cheese toasts came soon after with port-roasted grapes just before the mango-berry dessert was served.
Good smelling local coffee came with the brown sugar lump finely clipped on the cup lip. It was in the shape of an animal, I think. But this time, the sugar was not sourced from Japan, but from Paris, France. Having Negrenses and cabalens (from the sugar lands of the country) at the table, plus a city wife who’s husband is in the sugar mills of Bacolod, all agreed our muscovado could very well be shaped into cute little images and sold as high-end sugar cubes.
Finally, our degustacion was over. It was a feast for the senses, from the presentation to the taste and all. But if you ask me who will like Sunshine’s French-style dinner, I will say those who like fancy dinners – those who feast with their eyes as they eat. Such fine setting is too intimidating for most men, including me who would rather have all this stuff without the frills or nonsense as some men might call it. But if a man wants to impress his lady, or a father is taking out his family for that special occasion, and they want something different and private, he must check this place out. As for me, when my Darleng is happy, then I am happy and content as well.