Boy oh boy, this was just downright awful. Where do you want me to start? Highly acclaimed? Yeah, right. I feel fortunate to deliver realism to you all—I am not hiding behind PR or being told to nod yes like a dog. I am looking out for you, and as you read my stories, I hope they bring clarification. Chef Olivier must be having a laugh—was he even there? I think not (probably doing a photo shoot), but if he was hiding in the back, then that’s even worse. They say it’s a swanky place, but judging by the décor, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
If you don’t mind me saying, I know French food and techniques rather well. I have classical training in a professional kitchen, so it’s pretty easy to point out when something is clearly very wrong. Chef used to shout at me when I wasn’t caressing the stock carefully enough—the ones I spent so many hours making. (He did need a chill pill.) However, I understood the attention to detail that was instilled in me. At Clarence, it was like: 1. They didn’t care (send it out regardless), or 2. What they thought they were delivering was actually really good (delusional).
Do you truly care about what you are doing when you send out mashed potatoes with lumps? I couldn’t live with myself doing that at home, never mind for paying customers! It came with an overbearing note of cream. Absolutely unforgivable. My face was a picture when I saw the duck approaching, lost beneath a giant platter of greens it was sat upon. A big garnish that didn’t even look nicely presented (no point using it if you can’t eat it!), and of course I did not try to—the prep on it looked shocking anyway. God, were those cinnamon sticks as well? What do you expect me to do with those? I don’t have a Staub stock pot in my handbag.

There was complete incompetence behind the execution of the duck: It was chewy throughout, the skin wasn’t crisp—a fail—inedible. Attempting and ‘having a go’ at something like this shouldn’t be taken lightly. This is what was portrayed. They were having a stab at it because they did not know how to cook duck. The product was also questionable. Duck, like all processes, requires technique, and it seemed none was passed down to the kitchen. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes… Do something about it, Mr Olivier, or are you too busy doing interviews with Vogue to give your team any training?
The only really acceptable thing I ate this evening was the slider—a mini burger. And I will end with this: If you are going to do French food in Hong Kong, it requires a lot more effort, because us Europeans can see right through the cracks. You won’t be able to hide as much as you do in your local bubble, where people are none the wiser. You might be able to get away with quite a lot with your regulars who have never stepped foot out of China. As a chef and a cook, I am highly disappointed at what I have experienced here tonight. And no, don’t email me to challenge this account—sort it out and stop relying on publications and fame. They can only get you so far.








