more than just a meal

on the restaurant experience, flavor, and memory

Jan 24, 2025

Hi friends, happy Friday.

Welcome back to my newsletter and the first post of the year! After three weeks of being on the go, spending New Year’s in Japan, arriving back in Singapore for just under 48 hours, saying “see you later” to family, flying off to Edinburgh, spending my first week of school hanging out with my long-distance boyfriend who came to visit, and starting a new semester of classes, I finally have the time to sit down and write to you on here.

This post has been made possible due to a surprise empty schedule today. Plans and classes have been canceled due to Storm Éowyn, which has forced the whole of Scotland to stay indoors. I’ve taken this day as a welcome reprieve, munching on chocolate chip cookies, writing this post, and reading for fun ~ I’m currently trying to make my way through Monsters by Claire Dederer, which explores the question, “What do we do with great art by bad people?”

I’m excited to share my thoughts on the book after I've read a few more chapters. In the meantime, today’s letter is about my new hobby: dining out, which has been such an unexpectedly reflective adventure.

Growing up, I was fortunate to have been exposed to a wide variety of what I like to call ‘eating cultures.’ From Singaporean hawker centers (open-air complexes of independently-owned food stalls) to food trucks in San Diego, I’m fascinated by the melting pot of cultures and cuisines that permeate every city I’ve been to. Though I’m not the craziest foodie out there, plenty of my loved ones know their stuff—where to go, what place is the best at cooking a particular dish, etc. Over time, I’ve noticed a shift from being a passive follower of their recommendations to developing opinions of my own, one of which is that I am easily irked by the (increasing?) commodification of food.

For instance, the Michelin Star has evolved into the indicator of how excellent a restaurant is. That’s subjective, and what makes me uneasy is the eye-watering prices a single dish can be (especially at a restaurant awarded a Star). And, if they follow French fine dining standards, it’s extremely expensive for how tiny the portions are. What do you mean people willingly pay in the hundreds, if not thousands, for a meal? And then you’re just going to digest it and pass it in the next few days? I didn’t understand the hype.

That was until February of last year when my mom and I stumbled into Eska, a bakery converted from a textile factory on the outskirts of Prague, Czech Republic. On the second level resides a Michelin Bib restaurant called Štangl. While we initially went to the bakery, we returned the next day to try their six-course menu.

I am in no way great at describing meals—well, other than saying, “This was excellent and delicious.” So, all I will say is that this meal blew it out of the ballpark for me. Even though it was a high price point, it was still cheaper than other Michelin-listed restaurants in more popular cities like New York or London.

Their open kitchen allows us to watch exactly how they prepare each dish. Needless to say, I was captivated. My mom pointed out who she thought the head chef, sous chef, station chefs (e.g. who was in charge of sauces), and commis chef was. They worked methodically, even robotically - actually, that’s not the right word because they were fluid in motion - flowing, in a way that they knew what to do next, weaving around other chefs and passing each dish for the subsequent plating step without even saying a word to each other. Watching them was a work of art in itself.

The experience was top-notch- they explained how they grew and fermented certain ingredients in the kitchen, where everything was sourced from, how long they cooked the fish for, and what they did to make the appetizer look like leaves (yes, that was edible!), and even what was sprinkled on the top of the desert. Almost a year later, my time in Prague, in this restaurant, lingers on my mind today - it’s as if every bite I had still haunts me…

This is why one of the last-minute Notes app 2025 resolutions I typed on my phone was to discover more places like Štangl.

January 2025

Back in Edinburgh,

my boyfriend, Shad, came from Seattle to visit me last week, and we thought that it would be a good opportunity (more like an excuse) to try some of the nicer upmarket places in town. According to my friend Grace, the foodie scene here has always been something new to try out. I can certainly attest to Edinburgh’s coffee shops, but I was eager to venture into the restaurant territory.

Here’s a little rundown review:

Shad and I went to a few places. Chez Jules is our favorite French restaurant, with an affordable price point and a bistro-like ambiance with red checkered tablecloths. Margot is also an affordable brunch place in Bruntsfield that serves delicious Turkish eggs and ginger loaf. They favor the versatility of crème fraîche instead of sweet cream, so their savory dishes could benefit from the light, airy cream top that almost makes even the heaviest of meals taste refreshing.

My Margot review from an app I’ve been using to log restaurants I eat at called Beli !! It’s like a Goodreads/Letterboxd social media, but for food ~ you can follow me @reneeparis.

On the more expensive side, we made it to Noto, a Michelin Bib-listed restaurant focused on Scottish-Japanese fusion. We booked this reservation a few months in advance, and Shad and I looked forward to this meal, which was delivered but did not wow me. I enjoyed their signature butter crab dish served in a crab shell and their house cocktails.

Our dinner at Skua was disappointing. We were served on multiple chipped plates and felt like they rushed us by delivering our dishes almost all at once - but since we’re pretty new to the scene, was this to be expected? Were our expectations too high for more ‘elevated’ customer service that did not transpire? Let me know what you think.

On a more sentimental note,

I have a tradition with Shad to always go to Chez Jules on the first day he lands here. For two years, we’ve made it a point to spend an evening over a candlelight meal at Chez Jules and talk about school, life, our families, our goals, how we’re doing, and everything in between. We aren’t catching up because we video call every day. Still, in each restaurant, we’re happy to be in each other’s company, doing our little reviews of what we ate, debating the criteria for what merits a Michelin, and exploring what this city has to offer in its nooks and crannies.

Part of why we decided to go out was to have this as our hobby in common and a reward for the months we spent apart. Similarly, preparing a home-cooked meal provides the same sense of comfort. However, when Shad discovered I did not own an oven mitt (in my humble opinion, I felt like I didn’t need it), he went ballistic (kidding).

What I really want to say is that we found our way back to the bond we share over food, and that’s a universal pillar of the human experience.

I always look forward to eating out with my loved ones. For example, we visited various sushi and ramen restaurants during my New Year’s trip to Japan with my parents. Because I’m in college, I can’t have dinner at home with them and my brother daily like we used to as a family. So, the closest replacement was found in Japan; we connected and talked about the most random things while stuffing ourselves with delicious food. (That’s how I learned that my mom is now taking pottery classes). One meal was spent in an Osaka restaurant in the presence of locals getting their evening drink at the bar counter. The camaraderie between the patrons and the bartender elevated our mood ~ we didn’t understand what they were saying in Japanese. Still, their collective energy and banter gave us a feeling of comfort.

Eating out has helped me understand why the restaurant scene is so popular —shared connection, especially in the presence of other people in a communal space, is sacred.

It doesn’t have to be an expensive meal, despite my insistent pursuit of finding another Štangl to enjoy this year. It’s just the company and the experience I’m becoming more grateful for, no matter how fancy the place is.