Chef Remy Lefebvre has never quite felt at home. His nomadic journey started in France, before moving to the Ivory Coast of Africa where he spent his formative years at. He then went on to countries all over the world: Mexico, Spain, the Middle East, India, Hong Kong, the Caribbean, and now, Singapore. Along the way, he worked in kitchens to earn a living, developed an interest in the culinary arts, and built a unique perspective in cooking.
That is until Casa Restaurant, his latest venture that attempts to capture the essence of his life and distill it into plates. The menu – much like wandering chef – is rooted in change; dishes are switched up daily according to the seasonality of ingredients. The only constant: everything comes brandished by smoke and woodfire.
In an attempt to capture the spirit of belonging, Casa (which takes over the former indoor space of El Mero Mero at Chijmes) is designed to evoke the comfort of a family residence – with mismatched sofas, dining booths, and even personal photographs of the staff that adorn countertops. Make yourself at home, and get acquainted with chef Remy through four ($118), six ($198), or eight ($258) courses.
To start, smear avocado butter, dressed with plankton powder, on charred sourdough slices, or pop smoked Petuna trout and roe tart in the mouth for a briny dose of smoke. Years of cooking for a diverse crowd has trained the chef to cook creatively and inclusively; seafood is heavily favoured over meats (sourced from sustainer farmers), and dietary restrictions are catered for in most dishes.
Gambas seeks to capture the sweetness of the sea, with Italian red prawns that are first cold-smoked over hay and wood chips, its creaminess balanced by a drizzle of refreshing yuzu- and wasabi-infused oil. Ratatouille takes roasted vegetables, lashed with burnt marks, and coats them with slick champagne escabeche to brighten the flavours.
Other highlights from the waters: Irish oysters, which is cooked in its own shell to seal in the brine and juice, and comes adorned with oyster leaf, nasturtium oil, and fish garum; or Marron lobster brushed with coffee oil to bright out its natural sweetness, served with a side of fermented koji rice, sweet yet full of umami.
The kitchen also is home to dry age chambers, and Remy might age sea bream for some seven days, to lend the fillet a (much) firmer bite and a drier layer of skin that crisps up under heat. Beef, which can come in the form of grass-fed wagyu, is first aged for 40 days, seared over the barbecue, and served simply with addictive pieces of baby potatoes glazed with bone marrow.
Desserts are not spared from the heat, either. Ember-roasted figs, soft and sweet, rest atop a gluten-free waffle, walnut sorbet, and popcorn milk to create an alluring bittersweet (it gets a mild tannic aftertaste from the infusion of fig leaves) treat. But the fruit might be replaced with something else the next day, or a starter might be replaced with another; the chef isn’t beholden to rules. This is his home after all.
