Review: Liora blends Korean flavours with European techniques, and it’s one of the best meals I had this year

Clarke Quay, particularly that lively open plaza with the fountain (yes, all you millennials and Gen-Xers know where I’m talking about) has spent so many years being synonymous with bars, clubs, and tourist traps — that’s the reputation, at least. 

A serious restaurant though, not so much. So a place such as Liora, whose premise alone — a Korean-European menu built almost entirely from scratch, down to the kimchi fermenting in jars — feels like a small statement in itself. I dined there over the weekend and am already planning a second visit.

The backstory

I wouldn’t fault anyone with zero context for thinking that Liora, which opened at the tail-end of July, is some kind of Mediterranean or North African restaurant, what with the thick, ribbed “terracotta” columns and arched doorway out front.

The reddish-clay tones extend inside, and it’s only when I spot the fermentation jars lining the top of the open kitchen that the decor makes a bit more sense. They’re built in the same warm, earthen texture and theme as onggi, the traditional Korean jars used to age kimchi and jang, or traditional Korean fermented pastes.

Liora is led by head chef Kenny Chung, alongside sous chefs Aiken Low and Gerome Ang, bringing between them decades of experience from Michelin-starred kitchens such as Burnt Ends and Jaan.

I peeked through the open kitchen on my way to the washroom and watched the team work in seamless unison, with Kenny calling instructions over the flaming woodfire grill. If you manage to book a seat at the chef’s counter, you’ll get a direct view of each dish cooked and plated in front of you.

The style of techniques here might be more European in nature, but Korean flavours and ingredients — you’ll see plenty of jang and fermentation of things like housemade kimchi, citrus kosho, and even kidney beans going on — run through the whole menu. 

They’re organised into snacks (from S$12), small plates (from S$22), mains (from S$48), and desserts (from S$12), with a drinks list that runs from wines to Korean-inspired cocktails.

It’s worth noting that Liora also has a S$58 set lunch on weekdays that includes select starter and main options from the main menu, including the king crab egg custard, wagyu steak, and Irish duck breast, with an option to top up for desserts such as a makgeolli panna cotta.

Our verdict

Liora is expensive, especially if you’re planning to eat until you’re stuffed. But there’s a craft to everything here that mostly justifies the cost. Almost everything is painstakingly made in-house down to the sauces, and the way Korean flavours are introduced is very tastefully done. 

For anyone curious about how Korean and European cooking can come together, this place is absolutely worth checking out. Liora is bright with natural light and vibey in the day, especially with the afro rock and indie pop blasting through the speakers, but I can imagine this being a romantic and cosy place for a memorable date night or special occasions with friends.

What it’s good for

The first sign that you’re somewhere Korean is a complimentary shot of omija tea, a simple and traditional Korean herbal drink — made from a “five-flavour berry” that’s supposed to have sweet, sour, bitter, salty, and spicy notes all at once. 

To me, it tasted primarily tart and fruity, but with a tad of complexity — overall, a clean palate opener.

A lovely way to start is the signature Liora’s brioche (S$18) from the snacks section, baked in the ever-popular “pull-apart” style and shaped like a flower. The bread is infused with smoked beef tallow that imparts a rich fragrance beyond just butter, and so very fluffy. Then there’s the spring onion compound butter, lightly charred on the grill for a real depth of smokiness. I rarely have so much praise for a bread course.

From the small-plates section, the burnt onion (S$28) features a generous scattering of garlic and banana shallots on top of a single large onion that’s been charred black over fire and quartered. 

You don’t eat the outer jet-black layer, but the little pieces that break apart add a smoky and bitter but pleasant edge. 

The inner layers of the onion are soft and sweet from caramelisation, and the crisps add aroma and a crunchy texture to every bite. The slightly salty, umami-packed doenjang butter rounds up the whole thing flawlessly. A very good dish, but I have qualms about paying so much for what is ultimately an onion.

What is really worth it though, is the Jeju abalone risoni (S$32). Rice-shaped pasta is cooked down in a rich leek and abalone liver sauce, then topped with a whole flame-grilled abalone from Jeju — according to a quick Google search, these are prized for being meatier and firmer due to strong sea currents. This is unlike the farmed ones that we usually eat in Singapore, which may be milder and less intense in brininess. 

The abalone itself is perfectly cooked: Tender at the centre, carrying the smoke of the woodfire, and caramelised from a basting of shio kombu. This is a decadent and richly flavoured dish without being heavy.

The mains section is straightforward enough — grilled seabream, Irish duck breast, wagyu steak, or a hefty 300g Jeju bone-in pork chop (S$62) that’s good enough for two to share, which we did.

It comes off the woodfire grill slightly dark and crusted without being burnt, while the inside stays a touch pink and cooked to a juicy medium rare. The meat itself has been aged with shio koji, which adds an umami depth and seasoning that’s present in each bite.

On top is a generous heap of white kimchi, fermented in-house, of course. It tastes sharper and more acidic than an older kimchi, but it’s perfect against the rich fatty chop. Underneath is a mild barbecue sauce with a sweet tanginess and a slight creaminess that rounds the whole plate out without being overwhelming.

You must save room for desserts at Liora, which, true to theme, incorporates plenty of Korean influences. 

The tteok (S$20) is absolutely divine. Traditionally a Korean rice cake, it’s made flat to serve as a vessel for everything else, first fried until delightfully crispy on the outside, dusted with roasted soybean powder, then topped with charred banana puree so caramelised and dark it almost looks like chocolate and a scoop of tofu ice cream. 

The deep sweetness of the banana plays against the lighter tofu ice cream, while the rice cake strikes a delicate balance between crisp and chewy and soft in the middle. I’ll be dreaming about this for a while.

The cocktail list runs six different options built on various Korean ingredients, such as a kimchi old-fashioned (S$26) or a Yojito (S$24) with perilla leaves and soju. 

I went with the K-espressotini (S$24) to go with dessert, made with Bohae soju, vodka, Kahlua, and coffee. The addition of soju means a gentler alcohol balance rather than just straight vodka, which I feel makes this more balanced and seriously flavourful.

For anyone not drinking, the non-alcoholic list keeps the same Korean thread running through it, with mocktails such as a blood orange sour with perilla leaf, a yuja fizz (using a Korean citrus similar to yuzu), and an omija punch made with sikhye (Korean sweet rice punch) at S$14 each. There’s also a simple coffee and tea list, as well as a small selection of wines.

What it could improve on

Liora isn’t the kind of place you visit often, even with just a few snacks and small plates, the price adds up quickly. Back to the burnt onion — a very good dish, but S$28 for onions is a hard sell no matter how well executed. I just couldn’t shake the sense that I was paying main prices for a vegetable side.

Otherwise, there are so many good ideas and well-executed dishes. I’ve already got a list for next time: spicy yellowtail mulhwae (fish soup) with a twist, king crab egg custard (S$32), steak and duck mains, and makgeolli panna cotta. That I’m already planning a return visit at these prices probably tells you everything.

Our quick takes

Is it conducive to conversation? The restaurant feels buzzy with the music up, so it’s not the easiest place for a proper conversation.

Is a reservation necessary? Yes.

How to get there? Liora is a four-minute walk away from Fort Canning Exit A, at Block B of CQ @ Clarke Quay.

HungryGoWhere paid for its meal at this restaurant for this review.