Review: TakaHisa x Le Cinq
Michelin, if you’re listening, you have a lot of explaining to do.
A deluge of good fortune brings me back to TakaHisa. No, no, I do not live here, but you would be forgiven for thinking it is my local sushi joint. Far from it. Literally. I live miles away.
I live even further from the guest chef and their Palais. This collab is with Le Cinq, wielder of 3 Michelin Stars within the far-from-shabby Four Seasons George V in Paris.
If you see a man outside, after midnight, in loose cotton robes, shaking his fists and dancing under a full moon, that is me waking the ancestors to manifest a trip to the Four Seasons George V. Also, it’s rude to stare; come say hi.
TakaHisa, I know well. Readers, by now, know it too. An upscale Japanese restaurant reserving omakase and more in what is now The Banyan on Bluewaters, with its soaring ceilings, a gracious service team, and current world champion of the only place that’s managed to get me to enjoy sake. Three times. (Ram Hari Khadka, TakaHisa’s sommelier, is truly doing God’s work.)
I reviewed TakaHisa about six months ago. My estimations of the restaurant have only gone up since this initial visit.
Le Cinq and Chef Christian Le Squer are no strangers to exceptional reviews; two of which could not be more diametrically opposite. First, the Michelin Guide France dribbles and shivers with praise.
It is here, in one of the most prestigious luxury hotels of Paris, that chef Christian Le Squer works his magic year after year, earning our greatest respect. His timeless cuisine, ever at the service of outstanding produce, unveils his virtuoso technique and phenomenal delicacy (Michelin Guide France)
I mean, get a room. Curiously, Christian describes his cooking as “like a #Chanel suit worn over a pair of jeans”, whatever that means. By contrast, the more acerbic Jay Rayner, The Observer restaurant critic, wrote this in 2017:
I chose Le Cinq, restaurant of Christian Le Squer, named chef of the year by his peers in 2016. I assumed it would be whimsical, and perhaps outrageous. Never did I think the shamefully terrible cooking would slacken my jaw from the rest of my head. (Jay Rayner, The Observer)
So, which would I get? Michelin’s thigh-rubbing poster boy or the subject of Mr Rayner’s wrath?
Those familiar with the flows and blows of four hands (or more) know that the visiting team, while celebrated — while the headline act — usually plays at a disadvantage. It’s not their kitchen, not their audience. Rarely are their suppliers involved. The home team plays with home-team advantages. However, Le Cinq is, supposedly, a calibre and cut above that should deftly glide through such headwinds. Right? A carpenter never blames their tools, so the saying goes.
Overall, my view is Le Cinq let TakaHisa down in two respects and that Team Taka deserved more.
The first is guests should act accordingly. Chef Christian fastens a broad (and undoubtedly media-trained) smile for panting guests drawn in by the red-trousered chef’s routine. As the evening progresses, there’s a performative want for the spotlight that grinds over time and starkly contrasts TakaHisa’s industrious chefs who, instead, quietly get on with letting their dishes do the talking. (More on that later.)
Witnessing Christian is like watching Lumière come to life in a way that, just like the anthropomorphized Disney candle, feels artificial and put on for show, minus the drippy waxy bits. C’est possible this tete-a-tete among les mes amis is something they do in France. But I’ve been to Paris (many times) and eaten in good two and three-star restaurants (once or twice). I did not see this there. I also know a few larger-than-life French chefs. And here's a gentle reminder: I go to collaborations a lot. There’s a clear line between being available to the crowd and simply taking over.
I don’t mind showmanship. I can like it, provided there’s substance to back it up. And here lies the problem that brings us to my second point.
The second issue came down to Le Cinq’s dishes, which, lest we forget, is the original reason why we come to any restaurant. Le Cinq’s three-possibly-four-dishes (if I include one dessert) appeared on a menu of ten-plus courses. I could talk about how the Black Angus Beef was tougher than some of my Bar exams or the oddly overcooked, oversauced Royal Sturgeon in a buttermilk where the fish floated around the plate like a plane wreckage in the Indian Ocean, but my enduring impression is that Le Cinq failed. It did not work cohesively with the host team to provide a single voice for the diner. Those dishes were flawed in concept and execution. Collaborations are an unspoken lure for guests to, one day, dine inside the guest’s fully-fledged home restaurant. Alas, there is no situation where I want to fly the 7.5 hours to Paris to pay the current EUR595 for Le Cinq’s menu. And I do fly far for mortgage-crushing tasting menus.
Chef Taka and Chef Hisa did not disappoint. TakaHisa remains one of Dubai’s most enjoyable restaurants. I’ve witnessed growth and slow progression here over time. TakaHisa’s side of the menu moved with the ease of a team comfortably in its stride. Raw chilled toro popped with the saline burst of caviar, underscoring that great ingredients need nothing more.
Two Kobe beef dishes, one a gyoza and the other a katsu sando, are diametrically opposite to Le Cinq’s Black Angus. Chef Hisa’s lardaceous, supple Katsu Sando Kobe slides down like a beefy meat lozenge - so good - I would prefer it without the bread. A trio of sushi was led by a double heap of ochre uni, deliciously creamy, fatty and borderline sweet. I would call it a room-temperature uni ice cream if that didn’t sound like such a foul concept.
Two remaining dishes spoke both of convention and a break from it. The steamed abalone in liver sauce is a signature dish, written about here, here (their best collab yet) and here. The sauce that took 18 months to develop is deeply satisfying in a lick-the-bowl way (#lickthebowl, N.B. Courtney Brandt). We were presented with a Kobe beef gyoza and, later, a Kobe beef ramen; both a first for me at TakaHisa, where I would welcome more of these dishes to their usual omakase. The collabs are a safe space for host restaurants to experiment. Many do.
Would I Come Back?
To TakaHisa, absolutely. To Le Cinq, see above. The experience excavates discussions about whether Michelin is what it used to be. It is haaaaarrrd to fathom (let alone accept) why Le Cinq stands hosed in Michelin’s praise whereas TakaHisa remains starless. The Guide now flits around cities (not countries anymore, did you notice?) to collate cheques from local suiters and, in exchange, awards are bestowed. We can all probably name a place or two that Michelin views too kindly. To TakaHisa, they seem less charitable, so far. I look forward to seeing the 2024 Michelin Guide Dubai to see where TakaHisa lands. In the meantime, if I find myself in Paris, Four Seasons George V is only 15 minutes from Table Bruno Verjus, which has my attention thanks to Mattias Kroon.
Liam was invited to this TakaHisa x Le Cinq collaboration as a guest. Dinner was 3000 dirhams a head for guests.
If you enjoyed this, the BEST thing you can do is tell a friend about it or share it more broadly! The subscription numbers rise every week with each publication, so thank you!
Liam Collens: EatGoSee | Instagram | Threads | Facebook
My favourite review to date x
"...overcooked, oversauced Royal Sturgeon in a buttermilk where the fish floated around the plate like a plane wreckage in the Indian Ocean." The picture only confirms this. As much as I love the TakaHisa team, interviewing Christian was enough and while I hate to miss out on collabs, I think I made the right choice last week.