86 in restuarant parlance means "we're out", however, here 86 is "in" It's hard to snag a table even in somnambulant Canberra unless you book in advance.
A friendly staff is there to greet and seat. Everyone was knowledgeable about the menu, what went into what and how it was prepared. Good job of enlightening the crew who all knew what to do or feild any question.
Plunk this hot spot down in New York or LA and blows the clouches of Momofuku or Trois Mec.
The physical plant is warm and the atmosphere sizzling. Prime spots are at the bar just 18 iinches away from the kitchen infantry mad prepping and plating a constant assembly line of the good stuff. And good stuff it is.
The menu changes quicker than Bruce Jenner's gender, so if you really lust after something (the food, not Jenner), go twice in a week.
The Vitello Tonnato was a deconstructed version, and me, personally, I prefer it as if Marcella Hazan made it. Straight forward as it was originally created, but here the separated components really work and give you a chance to savor each layer of flavor. Like moving the egg off the Eggs Benedict.
Ghetto Beef was nothing any self respecting ghetto dweller could ever afford. A ghetto in Canberra? Paleeze. A ghetto of YUPS and DINKS maybe. Cutsy name notwithstanding this was a terrific dish. Chunks of spoon tender Wagyu beef and aioli all spread out over a plate of Rocket.
Cauliflower with Dukkah was perfect too. Crisp florets dusted with house made North African spice took me back to my days in Cairo (and I thought nothing would get me back there).
A Pickled Terrine of Pork with Tartar Sauce tickled my fancy as well. This was surprisingly good. No surprises or duds in this place as everything was spot on.
Then it happened. I watched the cook in front of me at the bar whack off the crispy end of a freshly grilled Roo Tail. Into the trash bin it went. It was all I could do to keep from lungeing like a Manchester United Goalie over the counter to collect those tasty chef's nibbles. You'd pay extra for them "Burn'd Ends in Chicago or Kansas City. Having that snipped tip tossed was such a waste. (Just ask Bruce Jenner). The chef smiled and said the Roo medallions needed to be uniform in size for presentation. Next time I plan to take my own BBQ fork and spear them before they're dispatched.
Finally, Banoffee Pie landed before me. A Dulce de Leche Tart, Banana, Whipped Cream and Crushed Pretzels was decadent but even so, leaned to the light side if such a dessert can manage it. And it got washed down with a brace of Espresso Martinis. Frangelico, Amarettto, and Espresso in a glass. After two of those I was both wobbly and bolt upright at the same time. The full bar is solid and rocks.
I'm no mathematician, but I know I can always count on you, 86. read more