Shrimp Tartar Burgers and Chocolat Liégeois by Chef Marc Chalopin

After the culinary demonstration by Chef Marc Chalopin came the much awaited segment of food sampling.


People were milling about the room, the atmosphere abuzz with murmurs of awe and anticipation while watchful eyes were fixated on Chef Marc and his assistant gingerly assembling the Shrimp Tartar Burgers on an aluminum tray.

Those little mounds of lightly tanned buns bedighted with raindrops of sesame seeds patiently await the moment when they finally crown the stacked savory comestibles.

Like little toy soldiers, these mini burgers stood majestically (with the aid of knotted toothpicks staked through their hearts), resplendent in splashes of red, orange and green.

I watched closely as Chef Marc proceeded to stratify the chantilly cream, chocolate ice cream, granité, chocolate syrup and nougatine alternately into frozen wine glasses. Our hostess then ushered us outside the amphitheater where a buffet table was set up for the attendees.

The Shrimp Tartar Burger consists of complex flavors with layers that slowly reveal themselves with every bite. The sundried tomatoes provided a lovely acidulousness, and this trait extends to the tartar sauce as well. Though at first I was hesitant to eat such a pretty little thing, the moment I started, I just couldn't stop. It was one sapid mouthful after another, which unfortunately didn't last long enough.

The Chocolat Liégeois was as sweet as the burgers were savory. Perched at the top was a swirl of chantilly cream dusted with cocoa powder and a vertical shard of nougatine. A spoonful of the chocolate ice cream unearths slivers of more caramelized almonds, and the distinct taste of coffee in the granite was evocative of a shot of Kahlua.

Unlike its canned counterpart available at your local grocery store, this refined version of Pork and Beans had an abundance of pork in the form of what looked like diced bacon and chorizo. The pale legumes, though something I wasn't fond of, helped tone down the briny pieces of porcine meat.

A bed of elbow macaroni pasta interspersed with bits of ham abound with such buttery flavor. A word of warning - the oily goodness does tend to trickle down the side of your mouth as you try to take in continuous bites of this sumptuous dish. If you prefer a bit more savory flavor, try combining it with the aforementioned pork and beans and you're all set.

Oval shaped muffins had raspberry(?) filled craters at the summit. The vein-like cracks emanating from the center is lined with the fruit's vibrant color, a stark contrast to the pale-colored cake. I'm not a muffin girl, but I appreciated the moist characteristic of this baked bread, notwithstanding.

I light up at the next delectable dessert I see. A gleaming veneer overlays one of the more lighter-than-air cheesecakes you will ever taste. Slices of orange suggest the cake's flavor, while a thick plate of chocolate colored ledge - questionably edible due to its arduousness - acts as its plinth. Alas, a wedge was missing when I got to it. All that remains is a scraped bottom, proof of what was once there. I immediately grabbed myself a slice, and all I could do was bask in its ethereal attribute the moment I took a bite. I would've greedily consumed the whole thing if it weren't devoured by the other participants who obviously had the same idea.

The last dish of this splendiferous meal was what I could only guess as lemon meringue pie. Several rows of vermiculated meringue encrust the pastry. And as I crushed a forkful in between my teeth, a lemon discernible in taste agreeably emanates, titillating with overlapping flavors of sweetness and acidity.

If this feast is any indication of how this culinary school trains its students, then kudos to Enderun for a job well done.