The significance of a single ingredient
A question that lingers when facing the new Helm menu is whether you value the reputation that precedes it or the new expectation placed upon it. Do you come in thinking about the past performance or do you step into its potential free from preconceived notions? Either way, it’s a tough position to be in if you’re Josh Boutwood, chef of the first and so far only Philippine restaurant to hold two Michelin stars.
But given the level of challenge only he understands right now, it’s clear that Boutwood returns with the mindset as if it’s just another day at the office.
Single-minded focus
Simply dubbed “Single Ingredient,” Boutwood’s nine-course experience is shaped around one product that lets guests appreciate unfiltered expressions of tuna, pumpkin, lobster, bread, cod, lamb, lychee, wagyu, and chocolate.
“It’s really an ode to the ingredients I enjoy working with and eating,” he says about the decision-making process. “But they are positioned in a way that creates a kind of undulation of profiles of flavors… It’s not a singular line of progression; it’s a journey that goes up and down in certain places.”
However, Single Ingredient is also a reminder that a tasting menu is not a monolith; that while classic structures of progression and flow of flavors exist, there is no one way to create a tasting menu and there is no one way to be Josh Boutwood.
Shooting for Michelin stars
But the question any editor, journalist, or those of us who write about food—or even any creator or consumer—needs to start asking is whether we are putting the weight of expectations on Boutwood. The weight of expectations on whether the new menu lives up to its two Michelin stars will never not be present, but it is a sentiment that perhaps we need to address within ourselves first.
The real story here is more about Boutwood living up to his own expectations, and the reality is that he simply finds “a lot of satisfaction out of simplicity”—both in his food and in his ways of seeing things.
That whatever comes out of this new release, it doesn’t change the fact that this is still the next step in his and Helm’s journey.
Menu engineering around a single ingredient
In archetypal Boutwood, the results speak for themselves. The strongest moments come right at the beginning.
A little stack of a tuna opener built on fatty otoro and lean akami is buttery and creamy, thanks to a mix of miso emulsion, tuna roe foam, and a crisp wafer with tomato powder dusting. His next course is practically pumpkin on steroids, utilizing the nutty fruit in all possible idiosyncratic iterations.
The succeeding lobster course is more assertive than anything he has previously produced. Boutwood turns the precise science of poaching the crustacean at 59.5 degrees, the ideal temperature to cook lobster tail and yield a succulent bite, into fine art.
His approach with cod—delicately steamed and flourished with white cauliflower puree and confit bacalao—is created with distinct details you have to pick through.
By the menu’s second half, you encounter a minor speed bump in the lamb course—though it could partly be down to personal preference. The roasted lamb tenderloin and, to an extent, the mole-drizzled lamb terrine are more robust and gamey than usual (perhaps sourced from Australia or New Zealand).
But after a refreshing lychee sorbet break, the next main of roasted A5 wagyu striploin from Miyagi, Japan remedies the little lamb letdown. Here, he glazes the silky wagyu with aged miso for a powerful savory-sweet umami effect.
Finally, the “chocolate, chocolate, chocolate” dessert concocts a classic craveable dessert that balances sweet notes (burnt white chocolate), crunch (chocolate crumbs), and dimension (chocolate foam under a veil of white chocolate).
The boss has other ideas
As one of the most decorated chefs in the country, he navigates his newfound Michelin fame with candor, and it shows in his latest work. An observation though: The non-meat courses, particularly the opening trio of tuna, pumpkin, and lobster, greatly outweigh the meaty impact of the lamb and the wagyu—unusual for a chef whose pork chops and dry-aged ribeyes regularly receive rave reviews.
However, the overall picture is that there is plenty to admire and appreciate about Helm’s new menu. What’s noticeable is that while it doesn’t seem he takes any gigantic steps forward, Boutwood commits to his vision, which in itself is already a quantum leap in today’s fickle foodservice landscape.
And yes, it is a solid menu, but Boutwood’s carefree spirit is palpable, too, which is the driving force here. That in “simplifying” his approach in an otherwise complex situation he finds himself in, with two stars on the line, Boutwood decides not to get swallowed up in the potential circus of it all.
If that isn’t a boss move from Boutwood, I don’t know what is.
