Here's what Wikipedia says about soufflés:
If you put it that way, it sounds easy, not to mention clinical. But making a "soft-peak meringue" is no small feat. The one time I tried to make it, it took two people and a large Kitchenaid mixer to get it right. In a restaurant setting, making soufflés takes a special touch that needs to happen not only once, but hundreds of times—consistently. And as a diner, you have a duty to pronounce it correctly: it's "soo-flay," not "soo-full." (Someone I knew used to say the latter; he's been, as social network lingo would have me express it, defriended.) At Chef Jessie, formerly known as Le Soufflé, making these egg-and-air concoctions hundreds of times is exactly what the outpost of French-Mediterranean (with touches of Filipino) cuisine does everyday.
Though fine-dining restaurants in Manila, I've come to find, are never where I expect them to be (witness Aubergine, just above a McDonald's), Chef Jessie is admittedly posher location-wise in that it's situated inside the building that houses the exclusive Rockwell Club. If you sit next to one of the tall windows, you'll be looking over the club's expansive swimming pool and its many swimmers and occasional sun worshippers. Dining here is very close to the experience of having a meal at a hotel/resort.
But it's still a surprising place to me. I suppose I expect restaurants to be in some type of dining row or center; instead, they're usually near or within corporate buildings, which makes perfect business sense. Other branches are in the Top of the Citi (in the Citibank Tower) and in Ortigas (called Enchanté, in the Oakwood Joy Nostalg Center--yes, that Oakwood of corporate apartment fame). However, the one in Rockwell is two blocks from where I live, so I've been to it twice. And I'll return again partly because, even though it's not the most romantic or my illusion of an ideal location, it's comfortable and certainly beats the constant heat of Manila's outdoors. While the decor isn't as ultra-contemporary or cutting-edge as other restaurants in the area, it's modern enough, though ever so slightly 90's with its dated dining chairs, sconces and paintings. It has a large two-level dining room and tables are oftentimes joined together for the frequent large corporate party or family gathering.
As you might expect, soufflés are its specialty. I've had both savory and sweet soufflés and could say that you can't go wrong with them if they're all you ever order. They're light, fluffy and never prematurely deflated. The sauces, ingredients and preparation are first rate. Still, you might want to check out how Chef Jessie applies her French-Mediterranean techniques to the dozens of items in the multi-page menu. I've had the ribeye steak, which I ordered medium-rare and, though rather thinly sliced, its pinkness was on point and juiciness still intact. The duck confit is also a standout: crispy skin and moist meat. The salads—with cheeky names as Governor Vi and Jose Mari Chan, a winking nod to local celebrities—are beautifully crafted and ideally dressed such that you're not tasting too much vinaigrette or cream. Waiters, and there are several of them, are generally attentive and very friendly. They brought food in on time, allowing no wait between courses. But in between and near the end, they get a bit haphazard—now overly buzzing around our table, the next too busy with a large table to refill our wine or water glasses. Like the electricity in Manila, the service sometimes surges and sometimes fades or blacks out completely. But I give them a lot of credit for efficiency when they're on.
Wine lovers may be disappointed with the restaurant's wine list. I was. Of the few Burgundies they listed, none were available. I had a Banfi Chianti at one time, but only because that was the only reasonable offering for the food we were having. (I dislike ordering a wine bottle at a restaurant if I know I could get it at Rustan's supermarket.) I was frustrated enough last time I was there that I and my dining partner ended up ordering a Taittinger Champagne for the whole four-course meal. I know: boo-hoo, woe is me. It could be worse, I suppose. But nearby Bistecca offers a compact yet stimulating wine list that's fully stocked. Aubergine at the Fort is even better, with a decent by-the-glass selection and sensational by-the-bottle list.
Of course, wine is a sticky issue for me here in Manila, something which I covered in a previous post. If what I've gleaned about the wine scene here is true, restaurants like Chef Jessie may be caught between a rock and a hard place, what with a generally non-wine-drinking restaurant-going public and what with the ones who do drink order premier cru Bordeaux. But bring your own bottle if you have to. They charge, if I remember correctly, about ₱500 (≈ $11) corkage. The food is worth it.
Cost of dinner: With a bottle of wine from the mid-range, dinner was about ₱9000 (≈ $200) for two. This included an appetizer, a salad, main course and a split dessert. The restaurant, like almost all sit-down restaurants, embeds a 10% service charge which you'll see on the bill, but waives it if you're a Rockwell Club member.
"A soufflé is a light, fluffy, baked cake made with egg yolks and beaten egg whites combined with various other ingredients and served as a savory main dish or sweetened as a dessert. The word soufflé is the past participle of the French verb souffler which means 'to blow up' or more loosely 'puff up'—an apt description of what happens to this combination of custard and egg whites."
If you put it that way, it sounds easy, not to mention clinical. But making a "soft-peak meringue" is no small feat. The one time I tried to make it, it took two people and a large Kitchenaid mixer to get it right. In a restaurant setting, making soufflés takes a special touch that needs to happen not only once, but hundreds of times—consistently. And as a diner, you have a duty to pronounce it correctly: it's "soo-flay," not "soo-full." (Someone I knew used to say the latter; he's been, as social network lingo would have me express it, defriended.) At Chef Jessie, formerly known as Le Soufflé, making these egg-and-air concoctions hundreds of times is exactly what the outpost of French-Mediterranean (with touches of Filipino) cuisine does everyday.Though fine-dining restaurants in Manila, I've come to find, are never where I expect them to be (witness Aubergine, just above a McDonald's), Chef Jessie is admittedly posher location-wise in that it's situated inside the building that houses the exclusive Rockwell Club. If you sit next to one of the tall windows, you'll be looking over the club's expansive swimming pool and its many swimmers and occasional sun worshippers. Dining here is very close to the experience of having a meal at a hotel/resort.
But it's still a surprising place to me. I suppose I expect restaurants to be in some type of dining row or center; instead, they're usually near or within corporate buildings, which makes perfect business sense. Other branches are in the Top of the Citi (in the Citibank Tower) and in Ortigas (called Enchanté, in the Oakwood Joy Nostalg Center--yes, that Oakwood of corporate apartment fame). However, the one in Rockwell is two blocks from where I live, so I've been to it twice. And I'll return again partly because, even though it's not the most romantic or my illusion of an ideal location, it's comfortable and certainly beats the constant heat of Manila's outdoors. While the decor isn't as ultra-contemporary or cutting-edge as other restaurants in the area, it's modern enough, though ever so slightly 90's with its dated dining chairs, sconces and paintings. It has a large two-level dining room and tables are oftentimes joined together for the frequent large corporate party or family gathering.As you might expect, soufflés are its specialty. I've had both savory and sweet soufflés and could say that you can't go wrong with them if they're all you ever order. They're light, fluffy and never prematurely deflated. The sauces, ingredients and preparation are first rate. Still, you might want to check out how Chef Jessie applies her French-Mediterranean techniques to the dozens of items in the multi-page menu. I've had the ribeye steak, which I ordered medium-rare and, though rather thinly sliced, its pinkness was on point and juiciness still intact. The duck confit is also a standout: crispy skin and moist meat. The salads—with cheeky names as Governor Vi and Jose Mari Chan, a winking nod to local celebrities—are beautifully crafted and ideally dressed such that you're not tasting too much vinaigrette or cream. Waiters, and there are several of them, are generally attentive and very friendly. They brought food in on time, allowing no wait between courses. But in between and near the end, they get a bit haphazard—now overly buzzing around our table, the next too busy with a large table to refill our wine or water glasses. Like the electricity in Manila, the service sometimes surges and sometimes fades or blacks out completely. But I give them a lot of credit for efficiency when they're on.Wine lovers may be disappointed with the restaurant's wine list. I was. Of the few Burgundies they listed, none were available. I had a Banfi Chianti at one time, but only because that was the only reasonable offering for the food we were having. (I dislike ordering a wine bottle at a restaurant if I know I could get it at Rustan's supermarket.) I was frustrated enough last time I was there that I and my dining partner ended up ordering a Taittinger Champagne for the whole four-course meal. I know: boo-hoo, woe is me. It could be worse, I suppose. But nearby Bistecca offers a compact yet stimulating wine list that's fully stocked. Aubergine at the Fort is even better, with a decent by-the-glass selection and sensational by-the-bottle list.
Of course, wine is a sticky issue for me here in Manila, something which I covered in a previous post. If what I've gleaned about the wine scene here is true, restaurants like Chef Jessie may be caught between a rock and a hard place, what with a generally non-wine-drinking restaurant-going public and what with the ones who do drink order premier cru Bordeaux. But bring your own bottle if you have to. They charge, if I remember correctly, about ₱500 (≈ $11) corkage. The food is worth it.
Cost of dinner: With a bottle of wine from the mid-range, dinner was about ₱9000 (≈ $200) for two. This included an appetizer, a salad, main course and a split dessert. The restaurant, like almost all sit-down restaurants, embeds a 10% service charge which you'll see on the bill, but waives it if you're a Rockwell Club member.
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