Tuesday, 2 June 2026

Restaurant Review: Sky High and Loving It: Terrace Boulud Has Entered the Chat - and It's Not Leaving

DB x MO Dim Sum (1)

Right. Let me just say this upfront: I went to the media tasting at Terrace Boulud expecting, well, a media tasting. You know the drill. A few canapes, a bit of bubbly, someone hands you a press release thicker than a Tolstoy novel, you smile at the PRs, you smile at the chef, everyone smiles at everyone else, and you go home. Standard.

What I did NOT expect was to walk into what is essentially the most glamorous open-air living room in Hong Kong and find myself surrounded by what appeared to be the entire Central business district having the time of its life on a Tuesday. CEOs? Check. Heads of banks - plural - doing that thing where they pretend they're just casually having lunch but their Brioni suits suggest otherwise? Check. The fashion industry contingent, impeccably turned out, doing that impossible thing where they look both effortless and expensive? Also check. Suits, gloriously expensive suits, everywhere. It was a media tasting that looked more like the lunch scene from a very well-funded but poorly executed Netflix drama. The kind where everyone has cheekbones and nobody discusses their salary out loud but you just... know.

And this, right here, is the thing about Terrace Boulud. It hasn't even been open that long and it's already become the place to be seen. The one where Hong Kong's moneyed, connected, and frankly-rather-fabulous choose to be seen. And honestly? Standing on that rooftop above Landmark Prince's, with the glittering geometry of Kowloon's skyline across the harbour and the towers of TST shimmering in the distance, you understand immediately why. The view is, without a hint of exaggeration, one of the best in this city. And this is a city that takes its views seriously. The drama of Hong Kong Island's skyscrapers on one side, the sweep toward TST and beyond on the other — it's the kind of sight that makes you put your fork down mid-bite just to stare. Briefly. Because then the food arrives and priorities reset.

Because oh, the food. The food!

Daniel Boulud — the man behind some of the most celebrated restaurants in New York and beyond — has brought his whole French brasserie heart to this rooftop, and Executive Chef Aurelie Altemaire is running the kitchen with what can only be described as joyful precision. The menu is guided by what Boulud calls his four culinary muses: La Tradition, La Saison, Le Potager, Le Voyage. And then - and this is the bit that makes Terrace Boulud genuinely singular - Hong Kong gets to be the fifth muse. Not a footnote. A muse.

That fifth muse shows up in the DB x MO Dim Sum, a daily-changing selection created exclusively for this restaurant, existing nowhere else in the entire Boulud restaurant group. We had, among others, the Hong Kong shrimp har gow - and calling this a har gow almost feels reductive. Plump, delicate, steamed to a translucent silk, served with a house XO sauce that has enough umami depth to make you briefly reconsider everything you thought you knew about dipping sauce. Then the Lyon xiaolongbao - pig collar and truffle, the whole thing a nod to the legendary truffle soup of Paul Bocuse, reimagined as a soup dumpling. You bite in, the broth releases, and somewhere in Lyon a ghost is nodding approvingly. The Bangkok shu mai brings lemongrass and chilli and fresh herbs into a wrapper tinted faintly green, juicy and aromatic, the kind of thing that makes you reach for a second before you've finished the first. These dim sum are not fusion for fusion's sake. They are genuinely thoughtful, technically accomplished, and utterly delicious. Yummmm doesn't quite cover it but: Yummmm.

The set lunch  - Menu Déjeuner, available daily - is the kind of menu a proper brasserie should have. The Bisque Tomatée, a tomato and lobster soup crowned with a lobster-stuffed zucchini flower, is precise and deeply satisfying; it tastes expensive in the best possible way, the kind of dish you'd order twice if the rest of the menu weren't equally compelling. The Crispy Risotto with reblochon emulsion and green asparagus is, quietly, one of the most impressive things I've eaten this year - it shouldn't work as well as it does, the crisp giving way to the creamy with an elegance that feels almost architectural. King Salmon poached in champagne sauce with smoked salmon roe is the kind of dish that sounds almost simple until you eat it and realise nothing about this is simple.

For the meat contingent: the Australian Angus Cube Roll with French fries and pepper sauce is a brasserie classic done with full conviction, and the Snake River Farm Pork Tenderloin with sauce diable has a sauce so well-judged you'll want to ask for bread just to chase it around the plate. The Truffle Mash, listed as a side, has apparently already become the kitchen's most-requested extra. Try it and you'll understand why. The truffle is present but not shouty; the mash itself is pillow-like and dangerously good.

Then there is the duck. The Canard | Orange - a riff on the eternal Canard à l'Orange - arrives from locally sourced duck dry-aged for up to fourteen days, roasted on the bone, finished with a honey and spice glaze that combines cinnamon, cumin, Sichuan pepper, black pepper, pink peppercorn and cardamom. The orange sauce is built from roasted duck jus and is every bit as deep and complex as it sounds. This dish is at once completely classic and entirely its own thing, which is arguably the highest compliment you can pay a dish.

Glace A L'talienne - Pistachio-forest berry

And for pudding - the soft serve. The Glace a L'Italienne, inspired by the sundae at Daniel Boulud's La Tête d'Or in New York, arrives in rotating combinations: pistachio with mixed berry sorbet (dairy-free, for those who notice these things), or chocolate and vanilla. Pure pistachio paste, real vanilla pods, rich dark chocolate. All made in-house. All needlessly good for what is, technically, ice cream. The pistachio one in particular stopped conversation at the table. That's a high bar to clear.

If there is a single, solitary complaint - and I am duty-bound to find one - it is this: the portions are too generous. There. I said it. Modern restaurants have spent the last decade perfecting the art of serving something the size of a dental floss packet and calling it a main course, Terrace Boulud turns up with actual, honest-to-goodness generous plates that leave you full. Scandalous. The outrage. By the third course you will be making noises that are incompatible with the elegant surroundings, loosening things, reconsidering life choices. You have been warned.

Throughout May, the French GourMay [gourmet geddit?!] menu adds Alpine warmth to proceedings: a Burger Savoyard with Australian Wagyu, darphin potato and melted raclette cheese; the Tartiflette, that magnificently rib-sticking Alpine gratin of charlotte potatoes, smoked pancetta and reblochon. Savoie wines poured by the glass - from magnum, naturally, because why wouldn't you - accompany it all. The Domaine Fabien Trosset Mondeuse is a particular find: juicy, spiced, absolutely made for a long afternoon on a terrace with good company and no afternoon meetings.

Terrace Boulud is, in the truest sense of the word, an experience. Not a meal with a view, but a whole vibe... the room, the rooftop, the skyline, the food, the energy of a room full of people who are absolutely exactly where they want to be. The cooking is technically accomplished, deeply pleasurable, and has a genuine soul to it; French at its bones, but the musculature is woven with Hong Kong-ness, Chinois-chic on a palatable plate.  

And I will be presumptuous enough to state; Michelin is going to come knocking. It's not a question of if. It's when. The food is already there. The room is already there. The consistency is already there, at a media tasting no less, which is where you learn the truth, because when the cameras are on and the journalists are taking notes, what you get is what they want you to see. And what I saw was a kitchen that already knows exactly what it is.

Watch this space. But book first. Because clearly, all of Central already has.

Terrace Boulud by Mandarin Oriental, Landmark Prince's, Central, Hong Kong.
Reservations: terraceboulud@mohg.com

Monday, 1 June 2026

In the Bag: Chanel and Hermes are Recession Proof

Some time ago, I was working on a magazine cover shoot and the good people at Chanel office in Hong Kong, sent across a few accessories on loan for the day. While we went on location, Tasha Ling, my most frequent collaborator, stylist, art director, placed the bags in its own seat. The sort of reverence most in fashion have for the (overused expression-) iconic brand. If ever I've seen something handled with white gloves LITERALLY, it's the range of accessories from the Parisian house.  

Chanel (and Hermès!) have demonstrated remarkable resilience and pricing power in a challenging luxury market, particularly in Greater China, even as many peers face stagnation or declines.


Over the past five years, Chanel has aggressively raised prices on its iconic handbags. A medium Classic Flap, which retailed around US$5,800–$6,500 in 2020–2021, reached approximately US$11,300 by 2025, representing a near-doubling (roughly 90–100% increase depending on exact timing and market). Further modest hikes (4–5%) continued into 2025–2026, with the medium Flap hitting US$11,300–$11,700+ in the US/Europe. Chanel cites rising costs, craftsmanship, and exclusivity, positioning bags as investment pieces akin to fine jewelry.


This strategy has paid off amid broader luxury slowdowns in China post-pandemic, driven by economic pressures and shifting consumer sentiment. While many brands saw double-digit declines, ultra-luxury names like Chanel and Hermès retained stronger demand among high-net-worth buyers seeking timeless status symbols. Jing Daily has noted Chinese consumers prioritizing “dream bags” from Chanel and Hermès over more accessible or trendy labels.


Chanel’s 2025 results highlight this outperformance. The company reported revenues of US$19.3 billion (up 2% from 2024’s $18.7 billion dip), with operating profit rising 5%. Asia-Pacific (nearly half of sales) was roughly flat to slightly down (-0.6% to -0.8%), but Mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan turned positive in Q4 2025, with momentum into 2026. Investments in Shanghai’s Plaza 66 and Hong Kong boutiques underscore commitment to the region. US demand led growth (+7.2%).


Hermès similarly outperforms, fueled by ultra-high-net-worth Chinese buyers, controlled supply, and experiential retail. Jing Daily coverage emphasizes its resilience in Greater China despite sector headwinds.


In contrast, broader luxury groups (e.g., LVMH, Kering) reported softer or negative growth in China/HK amid cautious spending. Chanel and Hermès benefit from scarcity, heritage, and aspirational pull—qualities that sustain pricing power and resale value even as entry-level luxury cools. BOF and Jing Daily analyses position them as winners in a recalibrating market, where exclusivity trumps volume.


While sustained price hikes risk alienating some buyers (with occasional quality or “exploitative” critiques in Chinese discourse), strong HNW demand and strategic Asia investments suggest continued strength for these maisons in Hong Kong and Mainland China.

Sunday, 31 May 2026

Menswear shoot with Nicolas P: Pheres at Lane Crawford





 

Do you have to like the designer to like their clothes? Well, if you do, I loved working with Narcisa Pheres  - this shoot of menswear from her brand. Available at Lane Crawford. 

Interview with Narcisa in the archive. 

Model Nicolas P. Friend of a friend... 

How this industry works. For suiting brands and to showcase 'quiet luxury', always look for gentlemen who look the part. Nico's bril. 

Saturday, 30 May 2026

My moment of zen: Happy Weekend


 

Mom's koi poind in Kerala. 

Thursday, 28 May 2026

The Art of Wellness magazine launches in Hong Kong: Today! + Top Ten Health and Wellness Publications in Asia


On May 28, 2026, The Art of Wellness makes its debut in Hong Kong with cover star Siwon Choi and a compelling cover story, "From Stage Lights to Serenity," signaling a fresh addition to Asia’s wellness media landscape. 

This new magazine has set out to blend science, mindfulness, travel, beauty, and longevity into an accessible, holistic narrative. Early articles like "Longevity Decoded," "The Search for Sleep," "Where Science Meets Sanctuary," "Calm by Design," and "Conscious Beauty Starts With Energy," all highlight its focus on evidence-based insights fused with mindful living. Categories span Body + Mind, Food + Travel, Beauty, Heart + Soul, and Conversations, positioning it as a thoughtful guide for modern well-being. 

The Art of Wellness enters a competitive yet evolving space and is not alone in the market or newsstands. Liv Magazine stands as the city’s longstanding wellness pioneer and trusted print/digital voice, known for healthy dining, fitness, eco-friendly living, and its popular Wellness & Lifestyle Awards. 

Other players include WELL, Magazine Asia (a digital impact-lifestyle portal emphasizing people, planet, and purpose), Forest Magazine HK, and broader lifestyle sites like Lifestyle Asia or Timeout Hong Kong’s wellness guides. 

Asia Spa, once a dominant regional title focused on luxury spas and travel, appears less active in its original form today, with the market shifting toward broader digital and hybrid content. Competitors like Compare Retreats and Destination Deluxe (both Hong Kong-based) lean heavily into luxury retreats and travel. 

Top 10 Wellness Magazines/Platforms in Asia 
(approximate, based on prominence):
  1. AsiaSpa (regional luxury/spa focus) * 
  2. Liv Magazine (HK’s wellness staple)
  3. Destination Deluxe (Hong Kong, luxury retreats)
  4. Compare Retreats (Hong Kong, expert wellness travel)
  5. WELL, Magazine Asia (HK digital impact)
  6. SpaChina or regional editions
  7. Organic Spa Magazine (international with Asia reach)
  8. GlobalHealth Asia-Pacific
  9. LuxuryWellness (India-focused but regional)
  10. Jetsetter or similar luxury travel-wellness hybrids * 
Even in the above list, half the titles are either on hiatus, closed shop or no longer carry the weight they once purported to. 

The Art of Wellness differentiates itself through its balanced integration of science-backed longevity and daily practices (e.g., breathing techniques, strength training, singing for health) with cultural and travel-inspired serenity. 

While Liv excels in local awards and community, and AsiaSpa targeted high-end spas, this newcomer feels more contemporary—artful, reflective, and data-informed—appealing to busy professionals seeking depth beyond luxury or quick tips. Its launch timing aligns perfectly with growing interest in proactive, holistic health across Asia. Backed with the team that once launched Prestige magazine and then went on to create the juggernaut that is #Legend, there's genuine interest in the market for a new title hitting an otherwise oversaturated market of competing (for attention, ad space, influence!) fashion and society glossies. 

With strong digital potential and thematic richness, The Art of Wellness could carve a unique niche, inspiring readers to move from performance to presence in one of the world’s most dynamic wellness markets. 

An entire catalogue, 36 looks: Shot in One day!



 

The right photographer, model, hair and makeup team, stylist, location and... will power. An entire catalogue shoot done on time - and more imporantly in budget.

The side hustle... 

Wednesday, 27 May 2026

Repost: New Punjab Club in HK: Star-Spangled, Spice-Soaked, and Gloriously Confused About Its Own Identity

Originally written circa 2022. Reposting because the food was then - and presumably remains -extraordinary. Some things deserve a second airing. This is one of them.

-- Rama  


There is a particular kind of audacity required to open a restaurant in Central Hong Kong, seat only twenty people, insist your kitchen produces the finest cuisine of the Punjab - and then, with a straight face and a beautifully typeset press release, tell journalists it is Pakistani food.

Reader, it is not Pakistani food. Not primarily. Not really. Not if you've eaten in Lahore or Karachi or been to a Pakistani home kitchen where the flavours lean leaner, the spicing more restrained, the meat preparations closer to Central Asian influences than the buttery, tandoor-fired abundance of the Indian subcontinent's northwestern breadbasket. But we will come back to this. We always do.

New Punjab Club opened in 2015, tucked into Wyndham Street, Central - that strip of Hong Kong real estate that seems permanently committed to housing restaurants for people who've already decided they're having a good evening before they've even sat down. The restaurant is the brainchild of founder Syed Asim Hussain, the man behind the Black Sheep Restaurants group, who also happens to have personal ties to the space: his father's restaurant, The Mughal Room, once occupied the same address. There is something poetically appropriate about that - history literally cooked into the walls. 

The concept was ambitious, even a little mad. Punjabi cuisine - proper, unapologetically robust Punjabi cuisine - elevated to fine-dining standards in one of Asia's most competitive restaurant cities. Twenty seats. A tandoor as the beating heart of the kitchen. A wine cellar with serious intent. And a bar program that quietly became one of the best whisky lists in Hong Kong. (The whisky-with-spiced-food pairing is, it should be noted, not a gimmick. It works. Magnificently. Your cardiologist would disagree, but your cardiologist isn't at the table, and long may that last.) 

The rave reviews came quickly, and they came loudly. Broadsheets and glossy magazines fell over themselves. Food writers who had spent years dismissing subcontinental cuisine as inherently "casual" found themselves reassessing. And then, in 2019, Michelin confirmed what the dinner queue already knew: New Punjab Club became the world's first Punjabi restaurant to receive a Michelin star. The first. In the world. Sitting in Hong Kong, which already has more Michelin stars per capita than almost anywhere on the planet, including France. A detail that never gets old. The star has been retained every year since. Four consecutive years, at the time of this writing. 


The chefs responsible - and here is where the Pakistani branding gets genuinely, lovingly complicated - are Palash Mitra and Chhabil Sidhu. Two Indian chefs. From the subcontinent's Indian side of the partition line. Cooking food the PR team is at some pains to label Pakistani. Doing so brilliantly. Now look, I am not here to adjudicate the politics of partition at the dinner table. I am here to eat. But the identity question deserves more than a dismissive wave, because it illuminates something fascinating about what Punjab actually is. 

The Punjab, land of five rivers, was, before 1947, a single region. Then the Radcliffe Line cut through it with the blunt efficiency of a man who had never been there and had six weeks to draw a border. Lahore went to Pakistan. Amritsar stayed in India. Families divided. Recipes did not. The tandoor techniques, the mustard-laced winter greens, the slow-cooked lamb of the Mughal court, the dairy excess (the butter, the ghee, the cream, always the cream) - these belonged to a geography, not a passport. So what is distinctively Pakistani food, as opposed to Indian food from the Punjab? 

The honest answer involves nuance that marketing departments rarely survive. Pakistani cuisine, broadly, draws on the same Mughal inheritance but layers in Central Asian and Persian influences more heavily - the pilaus and pulaos lean toward Afghan-style rice preparations, the kebab traditions echo Turkish routes through the old Silk Road, the seasoning tends toward cardamom and dried fruits over fresh chilli heat, the meat often lamb or beef where the Indian side might reach for chicken. Pakistani Punjabi cooking specifically favours the spit and the slow braise; it is less enamored of the intense dry-heat tandoor than its Indian counterpart, and the butter chicken - that totemic dish the world associates with "Indian food" - is almost certainly a post-partition invention from the Indian side, specifically from a Punjabi refugee family in Delhi. You know, the capital of... 

At New Punjab Club, the tandoor is everything. Which tells you something. What Chefs Mitra and Sidhu do - did, at the time of this meal - is not fraudulent. It is, if anything, more honest than the branding: they cook the food of an undivided Punjab, drawing on Mughal-era recipes and the deep agricultural tradition of one of the subcontinent's great grain-growing, dairy-producing, food-obsessed regions. If that food happens to geographically straddle the modern border and be claimed by both nations with equal ferocity, well. Cuisine does not stop at checkpoints. 

The menu that greeted our party of self-appointed critics - assembled, as is the custom, with the express purpose of eating too much and arguing about it afterwards, was a document of serious intent. The tandoor section alone could sustain a review. The Malai Tikka arrives as something close to a revelation: the restaurant's preferred local three-yellow chicken, brined for a day, then marinated in soft cheese, yoghurt, green chilli and yellow chilli powder before the tandoor works its alchemy. The result is chicken that has surrendered all of its moisture to flavour and none of its flavour to the process. It is, to use the technical term, ridiculously good. The Matka Murghi, the same three-yellow chicken sealed into a clay pot with safri spices, root vegetables and shallots and then left overnight in the residual heat of a cooling tandoor - produces a stew of such gentle, fragrant depth that you begin to understand why the process has survived for centuries. This is not a chef showing off. This is a chef respecting what time and indirect heat can accomplish that nothing else can. Pre-book it. I say this with the urgency of someone who has watched a companion be turned away from this dish: just pre-book it. 

The Nashta section (street food but seriously elevated!) deserves its own small ceremony. The Tamatar Ki Chaat, made famously without onion or garlic (a cooking constraint that is itself a kind of culinary discipline, like a painter restricting their palette), uses heirloom tomatoes blushed in the tandoor and Pink Fir potatoes cooked overnight in the slow ovens. The result is something that tastes both utterly familiar and completely refined. And the Makki Di Roti with Sarson Da Saag (griddle-cooked corn flatbread scooping up mustard greens and date jaggery), is a dish so embedded in Punjabi identity (specifically the Lohri festival, celebrated across the Punjab on both sides of the border in January, with bonfires and folk songs and the particular joyfulness of a people who have survived another winter) that eating it in this room, with these prices, in Hong Kong, feels like time travel.... with better lighting and aspirational art framed at every visible space. 

Then, there's the room itself. Twenty seats, as promised. It harkens to the era of post-colonial Punjab with the nostalgic flair of someone who genuinely loves that aesthetic rather than someone who hired a production designer to fake it. Old world charm is an overused phrase. Here, it earns usage. We rolled out into the Hong Kong rain, into one of those soaked taxis that smell of upholstery, stale beer and ambition, collectively bloated and arguing the question we always argue: why doesn't subcontinental fine dining get the respect it deserves? 

The answer involves decades of Western food media's class coding of "ethnic" cuisines, the assumption that complexity and refinement belong to European traditions, and a generalized failure of imagination that Michelin, to its credit, has begun to correct. 

One star. Four years running. Twenty seats. The world's first. The branding may tell you it is Pakistani. The chefs are Indian. The food is Punjabi, which, if you know your history and your geography and have paid attention to the past several paragraphs, is simply: yes. All of the above. And then some. Go. Take someone you want to impress. 

And perhaps, just perhaps, let the food be the thing that doesn't require a border. 

New Punjab Club
34 Wyndham Street, Central, Hong Kong.
Reservations via www.newpunjabclub.com. 

Words and Images: P.Ramakrishnan 
The images have been AI modified, enhanced, sharpened from original phone pics!