Haute Food Co.

August 2011

This is the little restaurant that could – one of those enticing stories that make the restaurant business seem sweet and saccharine instead of difficult. It has less than 20 tables but this little café punches well above its weight. Inside is a cosy, white, modern space and the mood – from the window display (red and white cupcake holders and a tray full of condiments) to the blue-striped awnings – screams ‘We want you to eat good food’, as does the price tag.

It’s all about the ‘f’ word, ‘fresh’. Main courses change regularly, which confirms my freshness suspicions. Eating this food feels like we’re being good to our bodies; it’s not earth-shattering by any means, but meals here have a reliable heft which is reassuring. Of the mains, the star was the Moroccan lamb, complete with a roasted vegetable couscous, packed with light herbs that tasted light and brisk. The lamb had been cooked to a point where it became a part of a soupy stew, where bits of it bobbed and settled. The chicken chasseur was slightly underwhelming – the chicken was drowning in its own mushroom sauce – but it was saved by a stocky slice of potato dauphinoise that was equal parts crunchy and sturdy, equal parts creamy and salty.

And then there was the dessert. Haute Food Co can do their desserts well and it feels like a very special kind of right here, an effortless display (look out for the actual dessert display) of skill and good taste, from the homemade brownies to the artfully-made, filthy-sounding sticky toffee pudding. We went for the chocolate and pear bread and butter pudding, comfortably milky and stodgy. Instead of the standard custard, it was served with a scoop of vanilla ice-cream – a nice icy complement. The Haute Food Co isn’t a thrilling place to eat – we mostly saw twenty-somethings nursing their hangovers and sophisticated couples with babies in tow for brunch – but it’s exactly the kind of unpretentious foodie place this city needs. Syazlynia Rahim