A table closer to the earth.
At A Little Farm on the Hill, the most interesting part of lunch may be the ground it grows from.
Lunch does not quite end when the plates leave the table. At A Little Farm on the Hill, it continues along paths through the greenery, with a closer look at the plants that supplied the meal. The August dining feature captures a restaurant where the connection between garden, kitchen and table is something guests can actually follow.
A meal with roots
The account begins on a hillside damp from recent rain. Pete Teo leads the group through the farm, pausing among herbs and edible greens. What started as a farm grew into a supper club and then a restaurant, with the surrounding land remaining central to the experience. The walk turns ingredients back into living things, with textures and scents that are easy to overlook once they reach a plate.
At the table, the dishes combine generosity with close attention. The original review describes six-hour smoked beef short ribs alongside sides that deserve their own moment. Flatbread brings a crusty, tactile contrast; rice is bright with citrus, petals and coconut. The vegetables and grains are treated as part of the meal’s character, rather than supporting scenery.
The garden has a voice
A twelve-leaf-and-herb salad makes the farm’s approach particularly clear. Wild ulam brings a sequence of flavours, moving through bitterness, sweetness and peppery notes. Chargrilled eggplant with duck nduja and garlic cream supplies another memorable contrast. Throughout the review, the staff’s knowledge extends beyond preparation to the ingredients themselves, which gives the hospitality a grounded confidence.
The afternoon eases towards tea, coffee and skillet molasses cake. By the time the group leaves, rain is returning and the resident dogs are watching from the deck. The piece’s lasting impression comes from that continuity between the meal and its setting. Food, weather, soil and the people caring for them belong to the same experience. A good lunch can be a pleasure in itself; this one also makes the processes behind that pleasure feel visible, approachable and worth thinking about.
A Little Farm on the Hill: You and I Are Earth
Original story by Abigail Dilusha Mun Wai Xi. The Expat, August 2026, pages 73.
This digital preview is adapted from the original magazine feature. Text has been shortened and rewritten; photography and artwork come from the print edition.
