Sorekara
Sorekara is a treasure. There's just no two ways about it. I still have no idea how they pull it off.
Following an incredible visit last year, I returned with friends from Chicago I met while dining at The Clove Club in London. This is now our 4th meal together and I was excited to show him how incredible this place was.
Few restaurants get the full balance correct. Tremendous, well-conceived, immacuately-prepared food. Service that makes you feel like the star. Gorgeous physical spaces. Phenomenal wines.
Sorekara has each of those and more. This restaurant possesses that quality you can't quite put a finger on that elevates it well above the crowd. This is far more than just an excellent dinner. They deliver an experience you will long remember and will truly touch you.
I will encourage you to read my previous review which contains many specifics of the experience that won't be repeated here. There has definitely been some morphing in the last 16 months, and I'm not sure I love all of it.
I will also note that they requested to not share much of the experience, so others can enjoy their visit without expectation. I have again honored that request and you will find only a few of the many courses we enjoyed in the photos below.
Service at Sorekara is truly magnificent. From the warm, smiling greeting out front by name (including each person in the party) down to each and every service member. These are passionate people who are fully committed to your experience, and you feel that.
Wines were stellar yet again. Jason is not your typical sommelier. Friendly, easy. More like you're kicking back in his living room. But he brings it, again and again. He even shared his personal wine notebook with us (photos below) showing his study and commitment. I don't think this is a prop. But even if it is, it envelops you into the experience. You are one of them. They want you to be one of them.
Their house-made non-alcoholic Chardonnay was provided at no charge and was truly spectacular. I gushed and asked if I could purchase a bottle or two. "Unfortunately no. We make it only for the restaurant." Totally understandable. Yet, on the way out, he handed me a small bottle of it to take home, complete with label. Let's just spend a few minutes on that one item, shall we?
Did they make the Chardonnay and have the small labeled bottles ready for anyone who asks to bring some home? Or do they not have that and came up with that solution simply because I asked that evening? And does it matter? Either one shows a level of anticipation and caring that underscores their full commitment to unreasonable hospitality.
Another example - my fiancé had a small reaction to the shellfish in one of the dishes. Absolutely nothing wrong with the dish, just an allergic reaction on her part. There was no big commotion, but the staff picked up on what was happening and brought out 3 different types of antihistamines for her to choose from.
I ask again - is this something they stock for just this sort of occurrence? Incredible.
The food was again phenomenal, marked this time by a number of courses which came with a myriad of smaller bites. I have a photo below of just one of the courses. Yes, that is one course. And yes, that is all for one person. Each small bite feels curated and fully through through.
Again - the amount of food prep, plating, dishware to clean up - it's kind of dizzying. Yet there they are, night after night, with such immense commitment. The groans and "Oh my God"'s were plentiful as the four of us tried a bite and kept pointing. "You have to try THAT one..."
This place does not take itself too seriously either. Plenty of winks and nods, including their signature magic trick. (No spoilers here.) What concerns me a bit is an ongoing push to expand the experience. Some of it felt too much. Others felt unrepresentative of their core delivery of Japanese cuisine through the 72 microseasons.
The primary protein of unagi was certainly on point from a culture perspective, but didn't pack the "WOW" that the A5 wagyu did on the previous visit. Moreso, the entirety of the dessert courses were given over to their new pastry chef Francesco Benedetto from Italy. He was previously at a 3 Michelin star restaurant in Madrid, Spain.
While it says much to land such a high profile pastry chef, I found the dessert courses to be mostly substantial misses. Each took on high levels of molecular gastronomy, belonging far more in the world of Alinea than completing such a full-throated Japanese dining experience as Sorekara.
Tiramisu and Banana Toast just don't seem to be the appropriate finish here.
Aside from that, a common misstep of molecular gastronomy is sacrificing flavor for technique. This was experience in full at one of my least favorite experiences of all time - Atalier in Ottawa, Canada. While Atalier was in a league of its own in that regard, these desserts seemed focused on razzle and dazzle, but disappointed when it came to flavor.
Below are photos of the lengthy steps and at-the-table preparation of tiramisu. That much effort should result in a dish I am dying to explain the greatness of. It was fine. The banana toast was not really banana or toast (similar once again to a dish at é by José Andrés) and none of us really enjoyed it.
While none of this takes away from my full-throated endorsement of this restaurant (Sorekara and Foreigner are the two must-visits in Orlando), I found this a disappointing tack for this incredible restaurant to take.
This is painful to share, because I love these people. I really do. There are few restaurants I have more respect for, and fewer still that treat you the way these folks do.
Just look at the handwritten note Chef Shen sent me home with. (Photo below.)
This team is spectacular. The food is incredible. The experience at the highest level.
Sorekara absolutely worthy of both their 2 Michelin stars and your visit.
About a month ago, I came to Orlando to visit Ômo by Jônt. I tacked on a sushi lunch at Norigami. While sitting at that counter, the chef picked up my passion for fine dining. He looked me square in the eye and said "You need to go to Sorekara."
I hadn't heard of it. But I sent in my reservation request while still sitting at the counter.
Only open a few months, Sorekara, Chef William Shen presents a 20+ course Japanese tasting menu that draws from the 72 microseasons of Japan. They use phrases like "timeless luxury", "preserving passion" and "writing an epic tale". These phrases are often signs of a restaurant that will fall short. Surely evocative but often with no true meaning.
I dined with a couple from Miami who I had met at Jônt. A text a few days before indicated that Eugene would be there to greet us. As we walked up to the absolutely spectacular restaurant setting, Eugene stood outside with a large smile on his face. He held no notes but extended his hand to me. "You must be David." He did the same to each friend.
Whoa. It reminded me of Plu.
He held the door open where the smiling hostess held a tray of 3 cold towels, also without notes. She handed it to me. "Here you are David." And the same to the others.
To me, this is the height of hospitality. It shows such powerful intentionality to communicate that they are happy you are there. Not simply that they have guests. They are happy that you are there. So few restaurants do this. Those that do jar you out of any expectation of a typical dining experience.
And let me tell you. Sorekara is anything but a typical dining experience.
We were ushered into a luxurious foyer with a beautiful zen garden and highlighted by a large, Japanese painting. As we enjoyed an incredible welcome drink (tart grapefruit offset with sweet plum air that popped as you drank it), other staff members came in to explain the restaurant's vision. Each staff member was friendlier and more engaging than the next.
Sorekara is Japanese for "And then". They explain that life is filled with the next moments and expressed the warmest appreciation that we had chosen to spend these moments with them.
They gently requested using our phones sparingly so we could be in the moment with them. "Let time slow down here." They also want to allow future guests to experience Sorekara freshly. (Out of respect for their request, I have shared only a few of the many courses we enjoyed.)
From the foyer, we went into the most beautiful private dining room featuring a table custom-made from a 900 year old Japanese Hinoki tree and a large window into the kitchen. Stories abounded. Who made the table? How was it made? How was it installed? What is its meaning?
Epic tales, indeed.
Our counter was made from wood a mere 700 years old (humph!) with floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the lake outside. What followed was 5 hours of glorious food and incredible drinks. Like the space itself, the food each came with stories and connections. To the chef. To Japan. To yourself.
The first round of bites were "Chin me", which means "rare taste". Each prefecture in Japan has their own. We were presented with the 3 that are fairly universal. Raw fish presentations followed, which were stellar at an alarming degree. The 3rd round of bites included a cracker with small fish from Mt. Fuji pressed into it. I've included a photo below. That level of attention to detail and generosity is woven into every bite of food and every part of the restaurant.
The chopsticks? Made from the same tree that the bar was carved from. The chopsticks holder? A copper leaf, handmade by a Japanese artisan, from that same tree.
The food was generous, plentiful and oh so delicious. It stretched from classic Japanese, to a play on an egg/ham/cheese sandwich that poked into molecular gastronomy (the bite included none of those ingredients.), to classic French - a delectable A5 Wagyu and fois gras as good as I've ever had. After all, Chef Shen was the Sous Chef of Jean-Georges in NYC in his early 20s.
The non-alcoholic pairing is also among the best I have ever had, with their mixologist presenting each drink in great detail. Diverse, delicious, beautiful.
Dinner finished in the "Dream Room" - with more clarity on why it was called that and the meaning behind the large painting the room focused on - a clear cousin to the painting we began with in the foyer. Outstanding pastries. Top notch tea service.
No stone unturned. Nothing missed whatsoever. The maturity of this 4-month old restaurant was astounding.
But as good as everything else is...the food, the decor, the story, the setting...as good as all of those things are, it is the staff here that takes this restaurant to the stratosphere. To a person, they are passionate, engaging, welcoming and seem to be doing exactly what they were made to do in life.
At the end of the night, they explained the concept of "Wa" - a Japanese term that means "harmony". Their goal as a team is to deliver that harmony - that "wa" - in what they are doing here with this restaurant. Their service echos The Inn at Little Washington and Disfrutar. It is truly special and it makes you feel exactly the same.
We were the last to leave and the staff welcomed us into the kitchen, provided an extra drink with the sommelier in his office ("I've been really excited about this bottle of wine. Here, have a glass...") and engaged with us directly about their larger vision for the restaurant. They shared with us things they don't share with most, and the goodness and authenticity was present in every step. It was generous and real and so appreciated.
You exit down a beautiful, lighted path along the side of the building. Every single employee is lined up on either side of the path, genuinely thanking you for having spent your evening with them. Some handed cards. Others offered a handshake. The ending matches the beginning in its absolutely top-notch hospitality, making you feel like a star. Perhaps not the star.
But for tonight, definitely their star.
Sorekara is a 3 Michelin star experience. There is precious little to fault or change. As I said in a thank you email I sent, "we could have asked for nothing more, nothing less and nothing different."
Thank you, Chef Shen.