Ta vie
Ta Vie is a restaurant filled with a feminine charm, characterized by its softness and tenderness, reminiscent of the solitude of walking alone on cobblestone paths in misty rain, wearing high heels. Chef Sato is perhaps the most humble Michelin three-star chef in the world, personally serving and explaining each dish to every table, always with a polite smile, more cautious and awaiting judgment than confidently expecting praise. A memorable moment was when, intending to visit the restroom without having risen, my glance towards the distance met with Chef Sato's, who intuitively led me to the restroom door. Upon my return, I found him quietly waiting in a corner behind my seat, ready to pull out my chair. Such humility from a three-star chef is astonishing.
Regarding the cuisine, Ta Vie resembles a fusion between two renowned Michelin three-star Japanese-French restaurants in Tokyo: Quintessence and L’effervescence. I have previously criticized the Michelin Guide for being overly lenient towards Tokyo's Japanese-French cuisine, labeling it a "lie". Nonetheless, based on my experience at Ta Vie, despite not finding the ingredients, techniques, or concepts particularly stunning, I could clearly perceive it as a restaurant deserving at least two stars, likely three, even with a blind tasting approach.
The deliberate effort to cater to Michelin preferences is evident throughout the restaurant, from the entrance to the presentation of Chinese teas and ceramics, Western spirits, and the poker card-like menus on guest tables, highlighting the natural, handmade approach to bread and butter, showcasing a blend of Japanese tradition and Western techniques. This mimicry of other three-star establishments rather reveals what truly matters to the Michelin Guide: a restaurant's absolute care, respect, and submission.
Ta Vie is a small venue not located within a luxurious hotel in Hong Kong, nor does it boast a large scale. Chef Sato's daily personal attention to guests, with the front of the house managed by his wife and a total staff likely under ten, accentuates its intimate atmosphere. The restaurant, serving only dinner at 2980 HKD per person, features dim lighting, soft jazz, and a feminine decor with blush tablecloths, pastel towels, and strategically placed greenery and Chinese porcelain for privacy, promoting hushed conversations among guests.
The cuisine at Ta Vie, though labeled as Japanese-French, leans more towards a Japanese-Italian fusion in terms of menu structure and ingredient selection. The signature "Yame Gyokuro cold brew tea" started the meal on a slightly astringent note, followed by a three-part bread service featuring warm, crispy bread with whey cheese and homemade butter. The dishes that followed ranged from a harmoniously seasoned "Ham and Clam Winter Melon" reminiscent of both L’effervescence's scallop risotto and traditional kaiseki, to a "Sea Urchin Spaghetti" showcasing homemade pasta with Japanese seaweed sauce, culminating in a modest yet memorable culinary journey.
The dessert phase transitioned with a tangy floral fruit tea, leading to a "Light Snow Strawberry" dessert that, while simple in concept, was charmingly presented with Japanese strawberries. The meal concluded with a chocolate soufflé, served with vanilla ice cream, and a Japanese-Italian Panna Cotta, blending the culinary traditions of both countries in a refined manner.
In summary, Ta Vie may not dazzle with innovation or a strong personal style, but its subtle charm, especially in the art of hospitality and Chef Sato's dedication, leaves a lasting impression. The careful selection of Japanese ingredients familiar to foreign guests, contrasted with the decline of other established Michelin-starred restaurants in Hong Kong, showcases Ta Vie's earnestness as a newcomer. Its achievement of three stars serves as an inspiring example for other restaurants in Mainland China aspiring to Michelin recognition.
