The menu, presided over by Australian Chef Peter Rollinson, reads like a horticultural poem. There is a cross-continental pollination of sorts — European and Asian influences accent each creation.

0- Exterior.jpg -Resplendent greenery drapes the space like jewels drape a socialite. Tourists sit, gently steaming, in a canopied verandah where ceiling fans swat away the worst of the afternoon heat. Here we are, in the Edenic environs of Halia, a ginger-themed restaurant bracketed by the lush Ginger Garden.


The menu, presided over by Australian Chef Peter Rollinson, reads like a horticultural poem. There is a cross-continental pollination of sorts — European and Asian influences accent each creation, some of which benefit from the distinct aroma of ginger flower, fruit or root.


We started with the florally named 'salmon gravlax rosette with Hirashima kingfish sashimi and salmon roe'. Though it charmed initially with the unexpected perfume of ginger flower, the dish was brought thudding back to earth by the over-salted, over-thick salmon.


What fared better was the 'sautéed risotto soja' — flowery terminology for finely chopped bean sprouts — tossed in a mascarpone and Parmesan sauce and served with poached oysters and mushroom emulsion. Patience is rewarded here — it takes a moment for the richness of the cheese mélange to reveal itself, countering the crisp neutrality of bean sprouts and mineral undertones of oyster.


A Chilean seabass fillet en papillote was next to hit the table, swimming alongside shimeiji mushrooms and broccolini in a mirin-sake-ginger broth. Truffle aioli served on the side nudged what was otherwise a prosaic dish higher up our ratings — the earthy scent of truffle twisted the very Asian taste profile into an intriguing new direction.


What won us over was Halia’s signature roast rack of lamb marinated in sweet, smoky Javanese spices. Artfully arrayed ratatouille and purple potato puree pleased the eye, while the lamb itself — tender and harbouring mere whispers of its distinct gaminess — was a triumph on the tongue.


To give our groaning stomachs a break, we ordered the relatively spry Halia Rojak for dessert. Fresh fruit topped with an invigorating chocolate chilli sauce was served alongside a fragrant ginger flower sherbet. What puzzled us, however, was the addition of stale nori crisps thrown haphazardly on top.


At Halia, one doesn’t — and shouldn’t — extricate the experience from the food. All throughout the meal, service was warm and personable, even acceding to a request for an iPhone charger. It’s a gorgeous locale. If you’re a stickler for the al fresco schtick, we recommend coming in the evenings when the torpidity dissipates and strategically lit foliage ensconces you in illuminated, immutable green. In an environment like this, one is infinitely more forgiving of lapses in nori crisp freshness and the optimal saltiness of cured salmon. 

1 Cluny Road. Tel: 6476 6711