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| - I booked a table for our two year anniversary, and we ordered the 12-course tasting menu. Our trip to Europea was motivated by curiosity, and it was certainly rewarded.
As we stepped in, three tall, handsome waiters smiled at us. The first motioned for me to step forward, and the second directly me to the third after I named myself. My wobbling high-heeled feet followed the gentleman up the stairs into the elegant restaurant, where our table greeted us in a corner. Each table was dressed simply, with a flower, candle and small Inuit statuette. The menus were presented. Then food came. Fast.
First were a series of complimentary amuse-bouches, and thanks to social media, I already knew each one of them by heart. They look amazing and novel - they taste good. Was it my idealization of each item based on Instagram snapshots? The maple glazed jerky did not taste of maple, the truffle popcorn tasted like... popcorn, and I can't remember much of those little sticks dipped in olive oil. Hot, melty cheese sticks in a cigar box were offered.
Just as fast came the lobster cappucino. It was rich and creamy, just like a hot chocolate. Unlike a coffee, however, it did not pack a punch. Then came the famous smoked salmon in its enchanted box. A fun, quirky moment that was mildy diminished by the sober flavors of the bite. Beets lended the risotto their beautiful color, but not their taste. Shrimps? I think I saw two. The calamari tagliatelle was amazing presentation and "mouthfeel", but was way too salty (it also came apparent at this point that the masterminds of Europea really love squid ink croutons!) The foie gras was beautiful, as only an untouched product of such quality can be. It spoke for itself, and I gobbled it without its little brioche. The little crispy langoustine was the first item to really capture my tastebuds. It was crunchy, warm and bursting with flavour. The citrus caramel was a perfect touch, reminiscing of imperial rolls...?
At this point, the pace of the dinner had slowed down, and my stomach was grateful. The fish course was presented to us in its cookware, smelling of grapefruit and hay. The fish was great, and my partner absolutly loved it. The yuzu mist was refreshing indeed, and the frozen yogurt especially delicious. Yuzu can be very overwhelming and unfortunately, I swallowed the mist wrong, irritating my upper airways for the following hour. Still cool tho. The Cornish hen was my personal favorite, and I still gaze at its picture fondly every night. I broke the clay in which it cooked, scared to maim the tender meat inside. The plate was such a comfort combination, with umami-zing wild mushrooms on a little pillow of buttery mash. Another meat course came under the deceptive look of a sundae. The custard was all butter and potatoes, and the beef, although nicely acidic and savoury, made my bloated stomach wail for mercy. I thanked myself for not wearing that tight black dress.
A break was given. We were offered to either visit the cheese cellar, or name our preferences from the restaurant's impressive collection. Not able to name any award-winning cheese, we followed the... Cheese Master? The cheese cellar had, perhaps, twenty cheeses in display - those who were truly outstanding, as the Lord of Fermented Dairy explained. We chose a 6 years old cheddar, a 2015 award-winning tomme, a no-nonsense goat cheese, and le Bleu Bénédictin. Notice how the latter is the only one I remember by name. That's because I liked it so much I asked for its name, and lo and behold, the Chief Commander of Fungi and Lactose gave me another slice of the heavenly bleu.
Feeling that the second half of the dinner was definitively better than the first, I relaxed into a delightful food coma. Then came the sugar onslaught. Three courses were dedicated to desserts, and they came all at once. My partner smiled and giggled like a little boy as he picked cotton candy leaves from the tree of Guilt. The box of warm madeleines was fresh and delightful. A fun plate of edible trinkets came, with pieces of moist honey cake, chocolate mousse, and a dollop of ice cream. As I prepared to dig in, the waiter said "wait", and proceeded to drown everything in liquid chocolate. I wish they had big glasses of cold milk as an option.
This 2.5 hour-long dinner had ended. We paid, a cab was called, and we were given a farewell pavlova. Thank you Europea for the amazing time, and especially to the amazing staff for making each moment perfect. Till next time my wallet is too full.
P.S. On my way out, I noticed a young man distractingly eating his calamari while reading a book, alone. I guess Europea can also be a neighbourhood bistro!
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