I’m finished with Glenelg now, and am now starting my stretch of five very expensive restaurants. These are in the “$$$$” category on Urbanspoon.
This is also a function centre, so I decide to book, in case there’s some fancy business I need to know about.
Upon arrival, the French waiter greets me by name at the door, and shows me to a table.
I’m the only person in this room, at 7:30. Apparently a group bailed out.
With pine nut straws and potato mash.
I eat this in one bite. It doesn’t really have any taste. The beetroot slab is a bit mushy, and the potato mash has an awful gelatinous and creamy texture. These two mushy tastes are just not at all pleasant together. The pine nut straws force me to chew on this, rather than just swallowing it.
Lighting in here is low, so photos will be of the stark flash-lit type that I try yo avoid.
The proprietor (or head waiter. I can’t tell) introduces himself, and we chat for a minute. There are actually fifty people here, in another room. I quite like this quiet room.
Szechwan leg sausage, pickled melon, sauté kailian and toasted rice.
The main piece of duck breast is nice and juicy, but slightly chewy. I combine it with the quince jam and the toasted rice, but neither seems to add any discernible taste to the duck. The duck has a very salty skin, that has a slight burnt taste.
I’m told the melon is a palate cleanser. It has the consistency and appearance of rockmelon, but the taste of pickled onion. I take their word for it, and eat it between duck parts.
The next piece of duck is the leg (it sits atop the neck piece.) this is very salty, and is overlooked. It’s slightly hard, and closely resembles chicken shop chicken. It also contains a not small blob of fat.
The neck sausage is the last piece. It sits under the leg piece. The duck here seems to be minced and soft, but the sausage is full of crispy things, including pine nuts, that are somewhat odd in a sausage. The strong herbs also overtake the taste of the duck mince.
With a warm Belgian chocolate ganache, roasted pistachio cream.
The quince almost certainly contains alcohol, which wasn’t listed on the menu. Still, this isn’t too bad, but the pastry is almost like sourdough bread. The roasted pistachio cream is only slightly sweet. There just isn’t anything really sweet here. Even the chocolate sauce the waiter poured on is more cocoa than chocolate.
The chef pops out, and we go through the dish, but I learn a few things during our 20-minute conversation.