What is Juniper?

It’s inevitable to talk to a chef about cuisine or cooking, but what if the topics ranged farther and wider? The city-killing asteroid supposedly headed for Earth in 2032, for one. The work of cinematographer Roger Deakins (1917, Blade Runner 2049, and No Country for Old Men, among others). Or such stuff as golf, food photography, Lego and astronauts? Such is the usual experience in sitting down with Chef Josh Boutwood, The Bistro Group’s corporate chef who has established elite restaurants such as Savage (“extremely primal”), Ember (“takes a lot of concentration”), Helm (“extremely theatrical”), The Test Kitchen and the recently opened Juniper in Shangri-La Plaza Mall.

Boutwood’s previous restaurants carry an undeniable masculinity in their names. “Even Helm sounds very masculine,” he points out. Juniper, however, is different. “It’s quite a feminine word,” he says, signaling a shift. So drawn was he to the word that if he were to name another child, he’d call her “Juniper.” “Having something a little bit more on the delicate side is kind of where I wanted to go with this restaurant.”

It also underscores how the concept is steeped in layers of meaning, much like the complex distillation of gin. “Also, it’s one of the key ingredients in making gins. And I’m a big fan of gin, as a spirit. I like the nuances, the complexities. The amount of aromatics and barks of wood, herbs, spices—it’s a great representation of our cuisine as well.”

For Boutwood, a dish is never just a dish. It’s a constellation of flavors, hidden ingredients forming a universe on a plate. The idea of reaching beyond—the unknown, the unexplored—manifests in both his culinary philosophy and the ever-present astronauts in his restaurants. “I even have an astronaut tattooed on my arm,” he says, revealing ink that signifies his belief in pushing beyond limits. He is also wearing socks with astronaut icons. “I like the idea of reaching places that no one else dares to go.”

This balance between strength and subtlety is reflected in Juniper’s interiors: natural wood, neutral tones, earthy hues. “I was very adamant that I wanted almost a birch, pine color wood as the main accent,” he says. “Nothing really striking in terms of colors. Ember has greens and reds. Here, I wanted it to be as neutral as possible.” The result? A space where one simply blends in. Zen, but not minimalist. Industrial, yet undeniably elegant.

The lighting plays a crucial role. “A lot of ambient lighting here—coming up from the floor, coming down. There’s a lot of pinpoint lights as well.” The ceiling is intentionally left exposed, painted black to create an illusion of infinite space. “We don’t know how far it goes,” he says. “In the peripheral vision, they’ve made it work. Fantastic.”

When asked what dishes one must try at Juniper, Boutwood refuses to play favorites. “Would you like my beauty pageant queen answer?” he teases before offering his real take. “When you come to a restaurant like Juniper, I highly recommend that if it’s your first time, just stick with the small plates. Order a few to share.”

The second visit? “Bring your family or friends, and that’s when you explore the large plates.” A restaurant, to him, is an experience that unfolds. No singular signature dish defines it. “I shouldn’t be sentimental about any dish that we create.”

That said, his personal inclinations lean toward a beautifully deep-fried octopus, poached with aromatics, served with lemon and mayonnaise. There's beef tartare, its egg component transformed into a gel rather than mixed in traditionally. Charcuterie options are aplenty —fennel salami, mortadella with pistachios—perfect for an afternoon drink while talking about the inscrutable brilliance of Tenet.

And speaking of drinks…

Juniper, true to its name, is a sanctuary for gin lovers. “I’ve got about 60 to 80 different varieties of gin on the shelves,” Boutwood shares, still in the process of finalizing the costings. But it’s not just about what’s available—it’s about customization. “You can choose a variety of tonics for those drinks. And then you can also choose your aromatics. You can make your own gin and tonic.”

And for the adventurous, there’s a Pares cocktail. “Do you know beef Pares?” he asks. “Very nice.” There’s also a clarified Bloody Mary—gin-based, crystal clear, but still carrying the soul of a Bloody Mary, tomato flavors and spice intact.

Juniper, like its namesake botanical, weaves a story of depth, complexity, and quiet strength. It’s a restaurant, yes—but it’s also an exploration. A study in balance. A venture into the unknown.

Blade Runner comes up when Boutwood tries to describe the restaurant in film terms. “Juniper is not a comedy. Neither is it a love story,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve got a film that would relate very well to it.” And yet, in the dim lighting, amidst the pine wood and exposed ceilings, with a deep-fried octopus on the plate and a gin and tonic in hand, one might just feel like they’re stepping into something cinematic.