Labyrinth

Labyrinth’s approach to gastronomy is elemental, almost achemical. Chef Han Liguang treats his kitchen, to be found down the unassumingly-named Neil Road in Singapore’s Chinatown and Tanjong Pagar, as a kind of laboratory. Peer through the steam and smoke, lit from within by the orange bursts of expertly controlled flambés, and you might get a glimpse of the prandial professor himself manipulating the five elements at his disposal: sweet, sour, salt, bitter, and – that most enigmatic of taste sensations – umami. In fact, Labyrinth’s open, counterside dining experience means you can indeed get ringside seats for this experimental culinary performance.

The bewilderment the timid might feel trying to navigate Labyrinth’s diverse cuisines is thankfully mitigated by the much-recommended degustation menu. This list is not exhaustive, and the menus are set to change at any moment (labs often present explosive hazards) but from the squid ink paella, through the Labyrinth chilli crab (involving chilli crab ice cream and sturgeon caviar!), and on to the ‘molecular’ chendol xiao long bao, it’s clear that Labyrinth is pushing the boundaries of Asian fusion cuisine. And, situated appropriately along Neil Road at the borderlands of Singapore’s Chinatown and Tanjong Pagar, it’s evident that whatever the philosophers’ stone of cooking might be, Labyrinth puts an atom of it in every dish. The results are award-winning, exciting, and unmissable.