The Last Table Before I Leave…

After a year eating across Asia, I found the best Mediterranean food Singapore offers—and I’ll miss it more than I expected.

I’ve spent the last twelve months eating my way across Asia. 

Tokyo to Taipei. Seoul to Saigon. Bangkok to Bali. 

As an Italian, food has always been my compass—how I understand a place, how I remember it, how I know when I belong. 

When I arrived in Singapore, I thought I knew what to expect: hawkers, heritage dishes, the greatest hits I’d read about for years.

What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with a Mediterranean restaurant.

North Miznon Singapore wasn’t on my checklist. 

It became my ritual. And now, in my final week here, packing my bags and saying goodbye to a city that surprised me daily, it’s the place I keep thinking about—not just the food, but the feeling of being there.

A Year of Eating Well (and Often)

In twelve months, I’ve eaten at restaurants people fly across continents for. 

I’ve queued for famous bowls of noodles, hunted down “hidden gems,” and sat at tables where the chef’s reputation arrived before the plate. 

Asia taught me many things, but one lesson stood out: greatness isn’t always loud.

Singapore was no exception. Its food scene is vast, generous, and confident. 

From hawker centres to fine dining, it’s one of the most exciting places to eat in the world. I tried everything—local classics, regional Chinese cuisines, Japanese precision, modern Southeast Asian tasting menus.

And yet, the place I returned to most often was North Miznon.

The First Night at North Miznon

I walked in by accident. 

A friend mentioned it casually: “You’d like it—Mediterranean, but different.” 

From the moment I stepped inside, I felt something familiar yet unexpected. 

The room hummed. 

Not noisy, not quiet—alive. Staff moved with ease. 

The kitchen felt open, energetic, human.

Then the food arrived.

As an Italian, I am suspicious of Mediterranean food abroad. 

Too often it’s diluted, overworked, or trying too hard to be authentic. 

North Miznon did none of that. It wasn’t trying to remind me of home—it was showing me something new.

That night, I understood something immediately: this wasn’t a restaurant chasing trends. It was a restaurant cooking with conviction.

Mediterranean Food That Speaks a New Language

North Miznon serves what I can confidently call the best Mediterranean food in Singapore, not because it imitates Europe, but because it respects ingredients the way Mediterranean cooking should.

Olive oil tasted like olive oil. Vegetables were confident, not apologetic. 

Fire was used with intention. Nothing was hidden. Nothing was drowned. 

The flavours were clear, bold, emotional.

I recognised the philosophy immediately. 

This kind of cooking doesn’t come from technique alone—it comes from memory, instinct, and trust. 

It reminded me of markets back home, of meals where simplicity wasn’t minimalism, but honesty.

Why I Kept Going Back

I returned the next week. Then again. 

Sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. 

I watched the North Miznon menu change daily, never repeating itself, never losing its voice. 

That’s when it became my go-to place—not because it was familiar, but because it was alive.

The staff remembered me. 

Not in a performative way, but in a human one. Conversations flowed. Recommendations felt thoughtful. I never felt rushed. I never felt sold to.

It became the place I went when I wanted to feel grounded in a city that moves fast.

Comparing It to the Rest of Asia

This might sound bold, but after a year of eating across Asia, I can say this without hesitation: North Miznon is one of the best restaurants I’ve ever experienced.

Not just in Singapore. Not just in Asia. Anywhere.

I’ve eaten incredible food in this region—precise, theatrical, historic. 

But very few places balance flavour, atmosphere, service, and soul the way North Miznon does. 

Many restaurants impress. Fewer connect.

Among the many best Asian restaurants in Singapore, North Miznon stands apart because it doesn’t try to define itself by category. 

It defines itself by feeling.

Food That Makes You Slow Down

What I’ll miss most is how the food made me eat. 

Slower. More present. Less distracted. 

Plates invited sharing, tearing, dipping, passing. Meals stretched. Conversations deepened.

In a year where I was constantly moving—new countries, new hotels, new tables—North Miznon gave me something rare: continuity. 

A place where I didn’t have to perform curiosity. I could just enjoy.

The Last Week, The Last Meal

In my final week, I went one last time. I ordered spontaneously because I trusted the kitchen. I watched the room. 

I thanked the staff more than once.

When the meal ended, I felt something I didn’t expect: gratitude. Not just for the food, but for the experience. 

For the care. For the reminder that great restaurants don’t just feed you—they hold you, briefly, exactly where you are.

What I’ll Carry With Me

When I leave Singapore, I’ll miss many things. 

The efficiency. The diversity. The energy. 

But I’ll miss North Miznon Singapore in a quieter, deeper way.

I’ll miss the anticipation of walking in. The certainty that whatever arrived would be honest and delicious. 

The feeling that, even far from home, I was eating food made with the same respect I grew up with.

After twelve months across Asia, that’s not something I say lightly.

If you’re travelling, searching, tasting—go. Sit down. Order with trust. Let the night unfold.

Some places become memories.

North Miznon became part of my journey.