All glistened beneath a clear sauce of smoky sea stock.
On a recent evening, the Lily in the Wood was a grave disappointment, consisting of still-gritty steamed bok-choy hearts overlaid with tough, chewy shiitakes and drizzled with an aggressively bland, clear sauce.
Even the somewhat overcooked shrimp in my least favorite dish — duet prawns — retained very nice flavor: half in a clear sauce with vegetables, the rest in a rather heavy, spicy, sweet-and-sour tomato sauce.
It isn't good for clear sauces or sauces where a delicate texture exists, but they add little to no flavor and they work instantly without the need for extra heat or prep time.
And granchio, or crab cake, was all crab and no filler (except for a crisp breading), with a head-clearing sauce of red bell pepper puréed with sambuca.
Salt and pepper seafood ($9.95), a familiar Cantonese dish of fried shrimp, scallops and squid, is flawless, while steamed jumbo shrimp, butterflied and served in a clear, mellow sauce with minced garlic and cilantro ($15.50), are delicious but a bit of a mess as you try to extract them from their shells.
If it wasn't already clear which sauce is objectively best, Barbecue obviously won.
Wilderness on a heroic scale envelops Darroch Learg, and David Mutter's food is appropriately hearty, exemplified by a burly, fibrous fillet of beef in a clear, stock-based sauce flavored with tarragon, with a heap of oxtail and another of notably spicy and nutty celeriac purée riding shotgun.
Piscine fat drips into a plate beneath the strainer and becomes a rich, clear-as-water sauce for a bulbous mound of rice and minced tuna.
(I would say, for example, that the parathas, fully cooked on the spot, are quite safe, as are most of the milk-based desserts, as long as you steer clear of the sauces).
Light soy sauce is table soy sauce.
