May 2012

It has only been open six months but in half a year Ten has done something rather remarkable. It has lived up to the hype. We (and by ‘we’ I mean the media, so-called foodies, and KLites in general) are no strangers to outrageous claims from restaurants and diners to be the best, the greatest and the definitive of their cuisine or price point. So the self-proclamation that this outlet is the ‘ultimate Japanese gastronomic experience’ was, I admit, given little credence.

That is until we walked in. Ten manages to look cutting-edge and knowledgeable diner in KL wants from a top class restaurant. And that goes double for the food. Dish after dish were sent out to us each of near celestial excellence. Fitting given that ‘Ten’ means ‘Heaven’ in Japanese.

Admittedly the whole experience comes with a certain arrogance, a certain pretention; the restaurant is evidently one that is expensive and values itself highly. That attitude can be risky at the coalface of customer relations, where they will be looking to knock you down at every point – especially given the reputation Ten is rapidly earning, just ask Sage Restaurant after they became the first (and only) restaurant to receive a five-star review in this magazine. However, fine dining should be about risk. It should be about saying ‘Yes, we’re great. Come here and see just how great.’ It’s frankly thrilling that a restaurant in KL can back up its big words with big, brilliant actions.

The menu is far from unfamiliar and delightfully uncomplicated. The selection of sushi rolls is much as you’d expect on paper… and far beyond your wildest expectations on the plate. Digging through the menu, you discover bites like the salmon carpaccio and prawn tempura that are like every version of those dishes you ever had – only better. It’s like they’ve somehow added a secret ingredient to make, dare I say it, the ultimate interpretation of these everyday menu items. Imagine a salmon and avocado sushi roll that is actually worth RM32.

There is evident obsession over every ingredient. The teriyaki chicken was the only dish not to hit the top notes during the evening, offering a little too much sweetness; are they compromising a recipe to try to match the local persuasion for sugar or was this an unfortunate one-off? Given the quality of the remainder of the meal I suspect the latter. Ten doesn’t strike me as a place that compromises for anyone. Why should they?

If you haven’t already, you’ll hear a lot about Ten over the next few months. I urge you to go. You’ll end up receiving your credit card bill and say ‘ouch, did we really spend that much on just a dinner?’ before a brief pause and then ‘…it was damn good though. Fancy going back this weekend?’ Matt Bellotti