After attending this mind-blowing buffet in Bali, I’ve gone from hating the dining format to being a fully-fledged buffet fan.

Escape

If you’d asked me a month ago whether I thought there were any positive travel trends to come out of the Covid pandemic, I’d have named, a little over-enthusiastically perhaps, the demise of the buffet.

The meal format, where self-serve diners are at liberty to gorge themselves on a variety of unpalatably paired dishes in unlimited number and portion size, has never appealed to me. My general feeling is that some culinary offerings should not be seen in the same restaurant let alone side by side on the one plate.

But the buffet, in all its epicurean egalitarianism, actively encourages this kind of culinary crime.

I’ve seen salami, hashbrowns and noodles canoodling on the same plate. I’ve witnessed xiao long boa dumpling broth mingling with the juice of a fruit salad before being soaked up by an accompanying slice of toast.

You can’t unsee a plate of sashimi married up to a triangle of unidentifiable sponge and jelly dessert. It just shouldn’t be.

Portion sizes are equally bamboozling with many buffet punters preferring to pile their plates sky-high, rather than savour each dish independently then getting up for another helping. And Covid obviously put a spotlight on the fact that it’s not ideal to have food, nor staff, exposed to the coughs and spittle of hundreds of salivating diners.

But, as I say, that was a month ago. Since then, I’ve had the pleasure of dining at The Mulia resort in Bali, and I’ve gone from rejoicing in a buffet ban, to being a fully-fledged buffet fan.

The Mulia is a large, family-friendly lux resort on the golden beachfront of Nusa Dua, and buffets – plural – are its thing. During my stay, I dined at three of its nine restaurants and bars, all of them with different buffet styles.

At elegant Chinese speciality restaurant Table 8, the buffet comes with a culinary education. Diners can visit small cooking stations to oversee how the crackling pork belly is impeccably plated and why guo tie dumplings are at their best when seared a la minute on a flat iron grill.

The need to load-up for fear of missing out is tempered by impeccable at-the-ready waiting staff who will happily deliver your buffet choice to the table, a la carte style.

The Mulia’s main dining venue, The Café, is wedding reception-sized, the kind I’d usually avoid, but the onus here is on quality and quantity.

Last year, international ministers and delegates in Bali for the G20 Summit (including Albo, US President Joe Biden and Chinese President Xi Jin Ping) stayed on-site and were treated to exquisite dishes including The Mulia’s signature bebek goreng, a delicious Balinese style deep-fried duck.

Sparklingly clean protective Perspex screens (and masked staff) no doubt contributed to the dining diplomacy.

While I’m still working at being ok with cross-breeding dishes from a multitude of nations, I see nothing wrong with putting at least a couple of similarly aesthetic desserts onto my plate. The Café wins here too. It has a dedicated dessert room (a whole room!) - and seven (seven!) cooking theatres tempting patrons with upwards of 30 desserts. Chocolate bonbons, traditional Indonesian dadar gulung, ice-cream, cakes, puddings, tarts, jellies, you name it.

My favourite of the restaurants is poolside Soleil, The Mulia’s renowned Sunday brunch venue where, for an all-inclusive price tag befitting a special anniversary or celebration, diners can laze away a day sipping and sampling some of Bali’s best local, Mediterranean and pan-Asian delicacies.

Try fresh oysters and prawns from the seafood showcase, dip into French Roquefort and Italian burrata from the cheese board; and pop by the live cooking grill for juicy lamb cutlets.

For me Soleil’s stand-out dish was a buttery foie gras crème brûlée scented with pandan. Another unholy pairing? Rest assured, this dish came straight from the a la carte menu.

Penny Watson travelled as a guest of The Mulia resort, Bali.