Fico at Tanjong Beach Club Brings Puglian Cooking to Sentosa

Fico at Tanjong Beach Club makes a case for simple Italian food in a setting where the sea is part of the meal. The Sentosa restaurant, led by chef Mirko Febbrile, serves a compact menu rooted in Puglian cucina povera: humble ingredients, prepared with care and little waste. The cooking is assured, though its prices make clear that a beach setting and an Italian menu don’t necessarily mean a bargain.

The restaurant is at 120 Tanjong Beach Walk, Singapore 098942. It is open daily from 10 am to 8 pm, with hours extended to 9 pm from Friday to Sunday. Fico is an offshoot of Fico Masseria in East Coast Park. At Tanjong Beach Club, it has replaced the club’s previous general eatery, taking over a space refitted as a restaurant rather than a cafe.

A relaxed setting, with a considered menu

Guests pass beach umbrellas and a swimwear shop before reaching the restaurant’s glass doors. Inside, high ceilings, rustic flooring, woven rattan chairs and dried plants create a more composed dining room than the beach club’s casual surroundings might suggest. There’s also an indoor option for diners who want a sea view without sand underfoot.

The menu is deliberately straightforward, and relatively short. Even olives count as an appetiser. That restraint suits Fico’s setting: it’s a place for a meal that can unfold at an easy pace, not a long procession of elaborate dishes. Still, “humble ingredients” describes the cooking style more than the bill. Prices include S$26 for the tomato focaccina, S$22 for mushrooms, S$32 for pappardelle and S$18 for each of the two desserts highlighted here.

Flatbread and mushrooms show the kitchen’s strengths

Fico’s focaccina takes the form of a puffed-up flatbread, airy at the centre and substantial enough to carry a generous topping. The San Marzano tomato version arrives with chunky, soft, sweet tomatoes piled over torn pieces of buffalo mozzarella, finished with basil. It’s a deliberately messy dish: the bread’s crater catches the tomato juices, and each bite brings together the bread, cheese and fruit.

The S$22 cardoncelli mushrooms are another example of a simple idea made satisfying through texture and seasoning. They’re king trumpet mushrooms, sautéed with butter and parsley, then finished with toasted breadcrumbs and pecorino. The mushrooms soften in the fragrant butter, while the crumbs add a crisp counterpoint. The name points to an Italian preparation, though the mushrooms themselves have roots in Japan and Korea as well as associations with Italian cooking.

Seafood brings the most variation

The half seafood platter, priced at S$108, is the most expensive dish described on the menu. It combines lobster, octopus, crayfish and scallops cooked over a barbecue grill. The result has the unevenness of food prepared over an open flame: some portions are smoky and over-charred, but the cooking is generally forgiving.

Crayfish is the standout, butterflied and topped with a herb mixture reminiscent of pesto. The scallops are fresh, although they’ve spent a few seconds too long on the grill. The octopus has a singed tip, while the lobster stays plump within its shell. Gremolata and marinara relish come alongside, but the restaurant’s chilli oil is the more direct match for the seafood, adding heat without obscuring its flavour.

The platter’s mix of strong and less precise moments gives diners a clearer sense of the kitchen’s approach than the price alone does. Grilling brings flavour and a relaxed, shared-table feel, but it also means the results can vary across a plate. For a dish at S$108, that variation is part of the experience to weigh against the setting and portion.

Pasta and dessert finish on a generous note

The S$32 pappardelle is wide and chewy, coated in a thick ragu. The sauce has depth without the dense, heavy character often associated with long-braised beef. It’s creamy and satisfying, and the portion is large enough to make it a substantial main.

Dessert may be the meal’s strongest finish. The S$18 tiramisu layers thick sponge with mascarpone that is dense and almost chewy. The hazelnut bigne, also S$18, is a crisp choux puff filled with Nutella ganache and hazelnuts. Its combination of chocolate and toasted nuts recalls a confection, but the contrast between the crisp shell and rich filling gives it the substance of a proper plated dessert.

What the experience adds up to

Fico’s appeal rests on the fit between its food and its location. The menu keeps its focus on familiar Italian forms—flatbread, mushrooms, grilled seafood, pasta and classic sweets—while the beach club setting makes an unhurried meal feel natural. There are trade-offs: the selection is limited, the seafood platter is costly, and its grill work is not equally precise across every component.

For diners looking for a relaxed meal with a view, the overall cooking has enough care and flavour to reward a visit. The strongest dishes lean on good ingredients and texture rather than elaborate presentation. Fico’s 7 rating reflects that balance: a comfortable beachside restaurant with confident everyday cooking, alongside a few dishes where execution could be tighter.