Roasted lamb loin, green-and-black olives tapenade, twice-cooked Aubergine compote and lightly steamed new potatoes.

One foreign chef who will definitely leave a mark in the Philippine food scene in and out of the kitchen is Frenchman Freddy Thierry Philippe Schmidt who has been in Makati as the The Peninsula Hotel’s executive chef for barely two months.

His observations on ingredients in the local market are expected to impact, on growing, harvesting, and shipping standards for many agricultural products, beginning with the most common vegetable, the tomato.

“A tomato should be deep red from being ripened on the vine, very juicy, sweet, aromatic. Why can’t I find them here? Tomatoes here are delivered while still unripe and not at their peak,” says the chef, whose 30 years of professional experience have taken him to almost all the continents, preparing extravagant meals for heads of state and Hollywood legends.

When told that today’s chefs in the Philippines are luckier than their counterparts of two decades ago because of the availability of locally-grown herbs and exotic vegetables and fruits, Chef Freddy complained about the apparent lack of standards. For example, locally grown herbs are of varying, or mixed varieties.

“The locally-grown thyme has been bitter on several occasions. A minor matter, others might say, but it could mean a major disaster for us, particularly when we are preparing a banquet for hundreds or thousands of guests,” he explained. “The taste and quality of every ingredient should be constant and reliable. I should be able to design and plan a menu with confidence.”

This meticulous dedication to details was much in evidence when Chef Freddy met with foodies at the Old Manila Restaurant of The Pen, serving a multi-course dinner that’s fit for monarchs.

The starter, a thick slice of Poached Duck Terrine, played the smoothly rich duck liver against a skin of Parma Ham, accentuated by the spicy sweetness of Mango Chutney.

The next course, Sauteed Escargot, was at first glance a symphony of colors and textures. Snails, plucked out of their shells, nestled in garlic butter at the bottom of an old fashioned glass, ready to be dipped or smudged with aromatic cream and a parsley-spinach emulsion.

The main course made me break all rules. Against all guidelines of etiquette, I begged for more bread to wipe the plate clean. The Oven-Roasted Lamb Loin was covered with a soft crust of green-and-black Olive Tapenade, coarsely chopped and not electronically mashed in a Cuisinart.

Arranged around the lamb slices were accompaniments that took twice as much effort as the main course. These were new potatoes and a substantial serving of Aubergine Compote, a twice-cooked composition of diced eggplants, peppers, onions, garlic, capers, and button mushrooms. Initially sautéed in olive oil, the vegetables are finally baked to meld their flavors without giving up their individual character.

So what does a food artist like Chef Freddy eat when he’s alone at home or off-duty? Simple stuff, mainly the native food of whatever country or city he finds himself in.

“In Singapore, I like the Hainanese Chicken Rice, especially complete with all its sauces. It is such a simple dish: freshly-slaughtered chicken poached in herbs and spices and served with fragrant rice simmered in chicken juices,” he narrates, smiling at the thought of meals he enjoyed as Executive Chef of The Oriental in Singapore.

“In Hong Kong, it was Peking Duck, fried rice and vegetables. Vegetables in Hongkog are always fresh. The Chinese go to market twice a day for vegetables, and the restaurant do no less,” adds the chef, who claims to eat mostly Sushi when in Japan.

Asked what Filipino dish has interested him, Chef Freddy confesses that it is too early to tell, although a Pinoy beef dish marinated in soy sauce, olive oil, and a hint of vinegar has caught his fancy.

Patrons of The Pen have a lot to look forward to.