Sometimes, when writing about food, it feels as though I’m typing from a template — where is the restaurant, what cuisine does it serve, how does the food fare, and so on. All of it could be distilled into a few simple, yet stupendous words: it’s delicious, please go and try it. But this time, at Han Ting in Den Haag, the Netherlands, the experience was not so easily reduced. The food was neither something that warranted a thundering ovation, nor something that could be introduced in the usual way. It wasn’t a straightforward “delicious”, because some of the flavours were so novel that I had to pause and consider whether I truly liked them, or whether I was simply intrigued — and perhaps charmed — by the surprise.
Han Ting is the brainchild of Han Ji and his wife, Ting Ji. The restaurant received its first Michelin star a few years ago and, this year, was voted by a jury of 500 chefs as the Best Asian Restaurant in the Netherlands.
To be honest, it wasn’t this string of accolades that won us over. The promise of Asian–French fusion cuisine alone was enough to place us in a state of complete submission.
Han Ting promotes what it calls “mindful eating”. Taken at face value, it means that each dish — prepared with meticulous care — deserves our full attention. But in the language of nutritionists and modern-day “clean eating” enthusiasts, Chef Han Ji’s intention goes further: to elevate awareness of healthy cooking and eating among urban dwellers, drawing inspiration from 500-year-old principles of traditional Chinese medicine, which anchor good health in nutrition and the balanced flow of “Qi” — the essential life force — through the body.
We abandoned the à la carte menu entirely and chose to leave the decision-making in the chef’s hands. The three-course tasting menu did not include dessert; the five-course did. The choice, therefore, was obvious.
The amuse-bouche was a cucumber mousse topped with smoked salmon and chives, drizzled with chilli oil and cocooned in a faint hint of wasabi.
Then came the first course, served on a long wooden tray, reminiscent of a Japanese garden. Resting on the pebbles was a collection of unfamiliar delights — a small fair of “taste sensations” in bite-sized form. I had only the faintest idea of what I was eating. The meringue melted on the tongue, releasing a subtle peppery note; then there were savoury pickled olives, the bright zing of yuzu, tender long beans… My palate — and memory — could hardly keep up with such novelty.
No French meal would be complete without bread. This time, it came in the form of Chinese bao, served warm in a small bamboo steamer. And, of course, champagne.
The second course featured pieces of wakame with cubes of calamari, beetroot, grapefruit and black herring roe, finished with a line of crème fraîche. The flavours were refreshing — almost reminiscent of Thai cuisine.
Then came the steamed cod with miso butter, kimchi gravy and a scallop–langoustine carpaccio. The twist lay in the crisp fried chicken skin and a rich egg-yolk element infused with rice wine. I enjoyed the gravy, but found the overall dish a little too salty.
The palate cleanser was a tiny bowl of Japanese rice, sprinkled with dried seaweed and sesame seeds. Too cute!
Then came the Black Angus beef tenderloin with lentils, shiitake mushrooms, coconut jelly and dots of sweet potato cream. On the side was a roll of veal tongue stuffed with cucumber and enoki mushrooms.
Usually, I would finish — if not wolf down — all the courses with little difficulty. But this time at Han Ting, I couldn’t. I felt slightly overwhelmed by the variety of meats placed before me. Fish one moment, beef the next — it was simply too much, and I found the flavours rather rich.
Dessert was a tompouce, the Dutch take on a mille-feuille. Laden with chocolate, praline, caramelised blueberries and vanilla ice cream, clearing the plate was an effortless task.
The standard opinion of fusion cuisine often oscillates between a harmonious pairing and an unforgettable clash of flavours. Han Ting leans towards the latter. Despite its bold use of ingredients, deep-rooted philosophy and strikingly unique combinations, my overall impression of this Michelin-starred experience was, somewhat surprisingly, refreshingly unpretentious. It was lively — like a true Chinese restaurant, where conversations flow as freely as the food — except here, the dishes were exquisitely plated, the service attentive, and the wine list impressively extensive.
So, in short: coconut with veal tongue, passion fruit with tarragon — fish, then meat.
Delicious or not… that’s entirely up to you.
With love x