FOOD REVIEW: iKO — A culinary glow-up worthy of second chances

SINGAPORE — Careful observation will show that I haven’t written a less than stellar review in quite a while. Still, it’s not that I haven’t been to any restaurants deserving of a classic, full-length prose on not taking their customers’ goodwill for granted—hardly. I just don’t write about them. It’s hard enough for the F&B industry today with sudden government interventions, shortage of staffing needs, rising costs of raw goods, and dining-out patterns that are at the mercy of fickle diners. I reckon they don’t need a literary naysayer standing by the bleachers, pouring out grievances of an unimaginative menu selection—and at times at exorbitant prices—in a food review column possibly read by thousands.

It’s also why second chances do not come easily for me. The ordinary diner, I would like to assume, does not have the same access as I do to give a below average restaurant a shot at redemption just because a first visit was less than stellar. While I patronise an outlet for the explicit purpose of a review, others’ first time might be for a wedding anniversary date, a birthday celebration, or just a special treat for self-care Wednesday. The adage “You only get one chance to make a good first impression” has never sounded more true.

That was the fate that befell iKO the first time I traipsed over to its mise-en-scene in the first month of its opening at Neil Road. Taking over the space once occupied by LGBTQ-friendly club, Taboo, iKO, at least in its previous life, was nothing to shout about. I recall it being utterly ordinary and uninspirational—almost like eating plain congee on its own. The menu was Japanese-fusion (I think), with a side of predictability.

So, when a little birdie informed me that iKO, barely a year since its grand opening, is rebooting its team (there was a literal walkout by the previous kitchen team) and getting Chef Dylan Ong of The Masses fame on board as chef consultant, I knew I had to put aside principles and personal philosophies to give iKO the redemption very few restaurants get to enjoy. It’s one of the few decisions in life I have little regret for because the new iKO is not just transformed; it’s sexy, avant-garde, and dripping in a sexy kind of grunge, whichever way you look.

It’s no surprise given Chef Dylan’s oeuvre of fusion food, that is, for lack of a better word, vogue. Why, for instance, serve Edamame (S$12++) as-is when you can dress it up with Oyster lead, wasabi powder, and wasabi roe and then boldly charred on the Bincho? If you’re not judiciously suckling on these intoxicating nuances of sweetness, I don’t know what would. Similarly for the Jalapeño (S$9++) that has been given a sexy umami twist as tempura stuffed with Kombu cream cheese and served with a sour cream powder such that it feels like I’m munching on a packet of chips. Drizzle wasabi vinaigrette for a hint of acidity and revel in the textural ménage à trois of a vegetable that looks nothing like its original self. It’s a food glow-up, and I’m here for all of it.

From the raw menu, too, originality and creativity shine. There’s an Heirloom Tomato Ohitashi (S$15++) dish that takes inspiration from the freshness of summer with the addition of delightfully sweet melons. This sits on a bed of whipped tofu which lends a pleasant blandness to the dish. That said, I wouldn’t mind a touch of salt on this. Still, not everything Dylan touches turns to gold. While I appreciate the courage behind the Scallop (S$18++), it is not for the faint of heart or the typical palate. A lot is happening here—gin, watermelon, chilli oil, chilli threads—that I wonder if this could have been improved with Coco Chanel’s sagely advice to take one thing off before you leave home.

Elsewhere, the Tempura Soft Shell Crab (S$14++) is sublime—faultless and crispy with satisfyingly creamy flavours from the mozzarella stuffing. It comes served with avocado purée and soy-cured egg yolk; the latter, I feel, could do with either saltier soy or a longer curing time. There’s also the Sukiyaki (S$26++), an explosion of flavours and the kind of thing you order to justify that looser pants you put on before heading to iKO. It’s a melange of A5 Sukiyaki Wagyu, leek, egg yolk, and perilla for a bowl that gives new meaning to savoury. I particularly enjoy the scallion slices that lend an unexpected and sultry astringency to all this bountiful umami.

Food rarely needs to be a work of art. Still, if it was, it would look exactly like the iKO Roll (S$24++), draped in fragile slivers of seaweed, topped table-side with a generous shaving of fragrant intoxicatingly earthy truffles, stark against the white of the china. It complements the equally luxe internals of foie gras, Maitake mushrooms, and sweet fig. It’s entrancing. Similarly entrancing is the dessert of Matchamisu (S$13++) with the headiest mix of yoghurt-coconut cream that blankets cubes of matcha ice cream and azuki beans. It can be a bit confusing at first sight, but several bites in, I was entirely convinced of its redeeming qualities.

Perhaps it’s a good thing, this upheaval at the previous iteration of iKO. Indeed, sometimes all you need is a temporary fracture to pave the way to a road better travelled. I took a gamble, sacrificed personal values, and moral philosophies to give iKO another go, and I regret it not one bit.

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65 Neil Road S088897

Mon to Sat: 12pm – 3pm, 5.30pm – 10.30pm