It’s about time pastry chefs finally started stepping out of the shadows of their savoury brethren. With the opening of Macaron, the trend of dessert restaurants in Europe and America has arrived in Singapore. Still, call me a gastronomic Luddite, but the idea that most, if not all, of my meal is made up largely of desserts is faintly ludicrous. I love my sweet courses as much as the next person, but not this much. And in a country like Singapore, where culinary gimmicks come and go – vale the wheelchairs of Aurum – and diners have the attention span of a collapsing soufflé, I worry for the staying power of Macaron, the latest addition to the Les Amis family. 

The restaurant’s MO is simple enough: order around two savouries and spend the rest of the meal being lavished by sweet endings. (Changing the savoury to-sweets ratio will cost you extra.) Pick from a selection of four-, six- or nine course prix fixe meals, priced at $38, $55 and $80, respectively; or go all out with the 15-course degustation at $125. In each set, savouries account for a quarter of the dishes (picked from a list of around 12 options) and the rest is made up of sweets (18 to choose from). To the restaurant’s discredit, four of the seven entrée courses and two of the desserts cost extra – meaning, if you pick, say, a pork belly confit, that’s an additional $8 on the tab, which completely defeats the point of a prix fixe menu. 

That said, it’s difficult to fault Chef Pang Kok Keong’s enthusiasm for his craft, not to mention the sly sense of humour evident in many of the dishes. Fresh off his Best Pastry Chef win at the recent World Gourmet Summit, he’s pulled together an eclectic, though not always successful, sweep of flavours and textures. And given how involved (some would say fussy) the dishes are in terms of presentation and ingredients, it’s easy to imagine the kitchen’s stress levels when Macaron is running at capacity. 

Ironically, the savouries stood out more than the desserts. Salty-sweet cubes of coral-red salmon were perfectly cut by the sea tang of roe and citrusy dressing. The tuna tataki was spoiled by the fact that its exterior was overcooked, though even this was redeemed by the accompanying marshmallow that unfolded mellow waves of seaweed on the tongue. The creamy mentaiko was a toothsome twirl of spaghetti and lightly spiked with garlic, though my dining companion murmured: ‘I don’t even want to know how much butter has gone into this dish for it to taste this good.’ And the foie gras parfait was equally intriguing – its chilly, livery finish a surprisingly effective foil for the tiny brioches. A rare misstep was the pork belly confit (pictured), which turned out to be just thick cuts of Chinese roast pork complete with crackle, instead of the expected meltin- the-mouth texture of confit. 

It’s a pity, then, that the desserts – Macaron’s raison d’être – left me a little cold. There was plenty of evidence of imagination – such as a crumble that recalled Turkish Delight, or a huge chocolate ball filled with almond nougat and raspberry jelly – but in the end, I found each successive sweet course too complicated and overcrowded with far too many ingredients. And the individual components were often poorly executed: among them, a too-chewy truffle macaron (oh, the irony); a not-so-light madeleine buried under a cascade of wincingly sour strawberry compote; and a pretty but so-so chocolate tuile balancing over a powdery dry chocolate parfait ball. Even the much-hyped sunny-side-up egg – the whites whipped through with coconut essence, which you could barely taste – is not a dish that bears a repeated visit. Yes, we know these are all meant to be haute desserts, but what’s the point if the sum of the parts creates such a confusing jumble? 

The wait between courses can be a little lengthy, especially when the restaurant is busy. This isn’t surprising given how time-consuming it is to assemble each elaborately conceived dish, but it doesn’t help that the restaurant affords little in the way of sensory distractions. The hollow acoustics created by the cement floor and bare walls mean you can’t really eavesdrop with any degree of satisfaction; and the decor comprises a few cut-out silhouettes of leafless trees that looked nothing like what the press release breathlessly described as ‘a juxtaposition of fairytale-like and modern urban aesthetic’. Huh? 

What’s more annoying is that the ventilation in the open kitchen is totally inadequate, which meant we stumbled out of the restaurant sticky with the smell of oil. It wasn’t such a sweet ending after all. 

#01-08 Robertson Walk, 11 Unity St (6235 7277, www.macaron.com.sg). MRT: Clarke Quay. Tue-Thu 6pmmidnight; Fri-Sat 3pm-midnight; Sun 3-10pm. Prix fixe menus start from $38.