Fine dining identity crisis?

Venue: Marquee Restaurant Bar
Style: Modern European
Address: Trak Centre, 445 Toorak Road, Toorak [Google Maps]
Phone: (03) 9827 7938
Hours: Tue 5:00pm-11:30pm, Wed-Sat 5:00pm-11:00pm
Prices: E $11-25, M $16-39, D $12-25
Bookings: Yes, telephone
Website: http://www.acemelbourne.com.au/marquee

Caustic restaurant critic A.A. Gill observed that people are not compelled to eat out because they are hungry; a diner is driven by a number of unconscious considerations, "hospitality, atmosphere, a feeling of largess and a sense of comfort, to be with friends, to have a mise-en-place that reflects on them."

Irrespective of the style and quality of the food being served, a new restaurant may find itself hamstrung from the get-go by positioning itself inappropriately. Of course, there is the exception to the rule: Shannon Bennett's Vue de Monde first opened its doors in a small space in Carlton that was described by one reviewer as resembling a toilet block. Bennett however is just that - an exception; where he is about to take Vue de Monde to the top of the Rialto, other venues that opened with greater fanfare but no vision are now missing from the pages of Melbourne's surplus food guides.

If this already sounds as though I am recommending that Marquee Restaurant slash Bar be avoided, that is not the case. However, the name of the venue was obviously not meant to be whimsical so much as literal. The restaurant is housed beneath a sprawling, cream marquee, with delicate pendant lights suspended from the striking, black, iron frame. Glossy timbers, marble and black and brown leather seating make for a very warm, inviting environment. Clearly a lot of money went into the fit-out, in an attempt to make the diner forget that Marquee is housed within Toorak's tiredest shopping centre, where my grandmother used to take me to chat to the girls at the hair salon and waste coins on the gumball machine.



It's incongruous with where Marquee is pitching itself, with its Parisian looks, premium offerings and a head chef whose CV sets the bar high (Cecconi's, Vin Cellar, Il Solito Posto and Gordon Ramsay's Maze in London).

The surest way to forget that you are dining in a shopping centre is to try the wagyu and quail egg burger. Wagyu burgers are so ubiquitous nowadays that it is noteworthy that Marquee's was so memorable, served miniaturised and finished with beetroot, for a rich mouthful of succulent beef and gooey yolk.

Battered prawns are fine but such things can just as easily be acquired from a fish 'n chip shop (though you'd have to settle for mayonnaise rather than aioli). More exciting are the oysters with champagne sabayon, although I end up downing four of the suckers because these are some unusually small molluscs.

Dom and I puzzled over Marquee's business card, featuring a bull clothed in a cape. What could it mean? Delving into the menu, we found a rooster in military garb and therein, each facing page featured some creature dressed to the nines. This is telling in its apparent disconnectedness from what Marquee is doing.

The whole venture seems confused to me, because while the food is good, it is unrelated to the environment (Parisian), the local area (fashionable Toorak) and the head chef's background.

Years ago, a family friend opened a restaurant in the city, with the intention of offering a classic fine dining experience. Prior to this, she'd operated a respectable restaurant in Frankston that was focused on comfort food. On the evening we dined at the new venue, it was also playing host to a bachelor party. As dessert arrived, so did the stripper. She didn't waste any time, because not a moment after coffee was served, the proprietor's husband emerged from upstairs, clutching his forehead and exclaiming, "What a body!"

The problem was that this friend was far better at serving hearty European fare than she was fussing over jus and loin of rabbit (and her husband could always be relied on to annihilate a civilised atmosphere).

Presently, Marquee is a very warm, attractive space where diners can expect confident, flavourful food. It is also worth mentioning that staff members were delightful and attentive. I maintain that the location is a mistake and there's little rhyme or reason behind the menu, but the proprietors may yet tweak the formula and establish a firmer identity.

Indeed, the strength of the food alone can elevate a restaurateur from humble beginnings, from a toilet block to the heavens.

Bella's delectably moist poppy seed cake

My late maternal grandmother, Bella, was something of an idiot savant in the kitchen. On the one hand, she could take a piece of raw tongue and transform it into a luscious appetiser, so delicious that all recollection of the sight of it in its raw form - pale and cadaverous, heaped on the benchtop like a prop out of a Cannibal Corpse video clip - vanished. And yet she never failed to burn a cholent, a traditional Jewish peasant food whose very raison d'être is that it is a slow-cooked stew left to simmer for 12 hours. The consistently scorched potatoes never compelled her to turn the oven down (I suppose such stubbornness becomes useful when you're warding off thousands of years of persecution).

Her cakes however were consistently superb. Testament to this fact is that when my mother brought my father over to meet the family, he cemented a lasting impression by sitting down and eating my grandmother's marbled vanilla chocolate sponge in its entirety. He then proposed that he could make a better cake and returned a week later with his own rendition of a chocolate sponge. Bafflingly, he would not let anyone have a piece; I put this down to a blend of greed and breathtaking disinterest in social etiquette (which has persisted in my father forever more).

He did not attempt to upstage her when it came to her mighty poppy seed cake, though. The beautiful blue-black seeds are enmeshed with grated apple, juice, sugar and eggs for a cake with delicate flavour and a moist, grainy texture. The finishing touch is a glossy coating of dark chocolate, which functions as more than just a velvety counterpoint to the nutty poppy seed. The cake can be a little tricky to demould sometimes and small segments may become stuck to the pan; the chocolate coating will effectively hide the fallout on the surface of the cake.

Ingredients:
6 eggs, separated
210g caster sugar
250g poppy seed
60g unsalted butter, room temperature
1 green apple, peeled and grated (juice reserved)
1/2 a lemon, juice only
200g dark chocolate (minimum 60% cocoa solids), broken into pieces
Spray oil

Method:
1) Preheat the oven to 350°F / 175°C and spray the innards of a kugelhopf pan [a what?].
2) In a large metal bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric mixer at high speed and gradually add the caster sugar until stiff peaks form.
3) Using a spatula, combine yolks in another large bowl with remaining ingredients.
4) Gently fold egg white mixture into yolk and poppyseed mixture until combined and pour into kugelhopf pan.
5) Bake for 35 minutes (this varies depending on your oven; at the 35 minute mark, stick a metal skewer into the cake and if it comes out clean, the cake may be removed).
6) Allow cake to cool and turn out on to a plate.
7) Over a double boiler, gradually melt the chocolate until smooth and glossy. For extra shine, you can add a little bit of corn syrup while cooking. Using a spatula, coat the cake in chocolate sauce.

Variations:
* Orange complements poppy seed very well; consider adding a little orange juice to the mix or decorating the finished cake with orange zest.
* My grandmother wasn't much for spirits, but I am. Sully your chocolate sauce with your liqueur of choice: rum, Grand Marnier, Frangelico, etc.
* American recipes frequently include slivered almonds and are finished with cream cheese frosting.
* For a creamier mouthfeel, consider including ricotta cheese in the cake mix.