Because one of everything will do nicely - a Fitzroy foodie crawl

Social media comes in many different flavours, but irrespective of your preference for subreddits, hashtags or funny cat macros, regular users of the Internet are generally familiar with the expression, "first world problems," the kind of trivial inconveniences that you've the luxury of noticing when you're reasonably advanced on Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

This comedic device is now spawning variations, such as "first world cat problems" (such is the Internet's preoccupation with felines). However, on a culinary crawl of Fitzroy this week with a chef and some fellow gluttons, I found myself considering the scope of "first world foodie problems"...

"Dude, you can't eat that yet, I need to get a photo."
"Ugh, no tables for thirty minutes, we'll have to just sit at the bar and try their cocktails."
"I just felt there was too much jamón on the plate."
"Wait, it's blurry, just one more shot. Hah, sorry, wrong ISO setting. One sec'."

Frequently, I'm torn up with indecision over menus that offer an array of dishes that all sound spectacular - and me limited to the capacity of a relatively small stomach. Melbourne restaurants are increasingly offering set menu options, perhaps on the basis of diners being unable to make up their minds and wanting to be divested of tough decisions (looking in your direction Mamasita, Huxtable, Chin Chin, Golden Fields).

Our group of six had an alternative solution however: order one of everything.

Venue: Huxtaburger

Style: Burgers

Address: 106 Smith St, Collingwood [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9417 6328

Hours: Tue-Sun 11:30am-late

Prices: Burgers from $8.00

Bookings: Not accepted

Website: http://www.huxtaburger.com.au/

The atmosphere in and around Huxtaburger is more akin to trendy nightspot than greasy burger joint. It's a great place for starting or ending an evening, with a simple selection of beers that can be enjoyed on the sidewalk, as the clientèle ensure that the interior remains packed.







The brioche burger buns are a real differentiator in a market so recently swept by healthy burgers. As a believer in moderation and being able to cinch down in a corset, the Huxtaburger offerings are a decadent once-in-awhile treat. The burger has all the qualities of totally satisfying greasy food; flavour is rich, condiments tangy and the cheese melted almost seamlessly against the patty [note: the photo below makes the burger appear larger than it is, they're an easy appetiser].

w/ crinkle-cut chipotle chips

Moving on for something more substantial, J guides us to the just-reopened Builders Arms Hotel, which has been smartened up and taken over by the team responsible for Cumulus. The interior is austere but inviting, a place where you'd have no compunctions about ordering a counter meal but then again, this is definitely not a case of "Andrew McConnell presents the chicken parma!" (I would be interested).

Venue: Builders Arms Hotel

Style: Gastro Pub

Address: 211 Gertrude St, Fitzroy [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9417 7700

Hours: 7 days, bistro 12:00pm-10:00pm, bar 12:00pm-midnight

Prices: Appetisers $4-14 / Share plates $10-16 / Mains $23-34 / Dessert $12-16

Bookings: Accepted at lunch; accepted at dinner for groups of 8-12

Website: http://www.buildersarmshotel.com.au/

Claire de Lune oysters and spiced almonds

This is first-class drinking food, in that there are lots of delicious, small things to grab at and share with friends as you down your Mountain Goat ale. J assumes responsibility for ordering and because we're all so hungry and indecisive, he asks for oysters, three serves of pig ear scratchings, three serves of whipped cod roe, threes serves of Ortiz anchovy toasts, three serves of the smoked curd with crudité, a kilo of mussels with aioli and two serves of Reuben sandwich.

Whipped cod roe and pig ear scratchings

The almonds are warm but not particularly spicy, while the pig scratchings are as crunchy and delicious as they look and go very nicely when dipped into the whipped cod roe, if you're not in the mood to eat bread. Ortiz anchovy toasts are fine but the spread is erring on the salty side (which may be the point, in an establishment erected for the purpose of drinking).

Olive toast, Ortiz anchovy & pepper

Smoked curd, crudité, pomegranate

The fresh crunch of the crudité is a welcome addition to the table, along with the distinct smokiness of the goats cheese. A lashing of dark molasses is a beautiful match for the cheese, but we feel the pomegranate seeds have been included for looks, as they don't add much. The best part about the mussels is the aioli, remarkably light and silky.

Reuben sandwich w/ cornichons and fat chips

The Reuben is hearty, with good textures and mouthfeel, but lacking in flavour. Perhaps we set ourselves up for disappointment, conversing as we were about happy memories of Monterey Jack cheese.

There is good noshing to be done at the new incarnation of the Builders Arms; it's a comfortable space which I could see myself losing hours in with an interesting drinks list and a few very good things to snack on, however, if it's dinner you're after, just go to Cumulus, have the lamb shoulder with lemon and Spanish onion.

While the Builders Arms dessert menu didn't excite me, tales of the backrooms of some of Melbourne's famous kitchens did, including the levelling of a Masterchef identity years ago with a heavy-based frying pan to the face. We were raucous and quickly established that we all had a dessert stomach intact, so we pressed onward for something that was equal parts sweet and interesting.

Venue: Cutler & Co

Style: Modern Australian

Address: 55-57 Gertrude St, Fitzroy [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9419 4888

Hours: Lunch: Fri & Sun from 12:00pm / Dinner: Tue-Sun from 6:00pm-late

Prices: Entrées $26 / Mains $43 / Dessert $19 / 8-course Degustation $140

Bookings: Required

Website: http://www.cutlerandco.com.au

Six diners - five desserts. We ordered one of everything, plus an extra chocolate ice-cream sandwich.

For such a large space, Cutler & Co is muted, as well as being moody, low-lit and sexy, comparable to my other favourite venues for romantic dining (Ezard and The European). Service is slick and accommodating; J's partner asks if they might make up a dessert-inspired cocktail for her and they return in no time with a tumbler full of something that is chocolatey and possibly one part rocket fuel.

Violet ice cream, chocolate ganache, sour cherry & clove meringue

The violet ice-cream seems to be the most popular dish at the table, mingling bites of luscious chocolate and the sharpness of the cherries (this dish is best enjoyed by eating some of each element all at the same time).

Chocolate ice cream sandwich, vanilla parfait & salted caramel

Sadly predictable, it's the chocolate ice cream sandwich that wins my acclaim. The chocolate is impeccably smooth and the sauce is so bold, with a lovely burnt flavour coming through. This is in stark opposition to another dessert on the table, the ginger granita with coconut, lychee and aloe vera; the latter is light and very refreshing, but it lacks impact once you've inhaled a mouthful of intense caramel sauce. It is the sort of dessert I would order though had I just eaten something rich, like beef cheek.

[Left] Apple terrine, toasted cereal ice cream, burnt butter & oat crumble and [right] Ginger granita, coconut tapioca, fresh lychee & aloe vera

The strangest dessert is that of the apple terrine, with crumble and toasted cereal. It is breakfast transmuted into dessert and again, it does lack for something, in the face of a sour cherry and caramel sauce onslaught; however, the mix of textures is interesting and compelling to eat.

Pear & suet pudding, milk sorbet & candied lemon

Lastly, the pear pudding is a perfect, comforting, winter dessert dish, hot and dense but not heavy with the sweetness. The milk sorbet is plated at the table, so that it doesn't melt against the pudding on its way from the kitchen. I'd have appreciated more candied lemon, but this sort of quibble is indeed a first world foodie problem and barely registers when you've just enjoyed every dessert on the menu of such an impressive restaurant.

Coffee is served with wonderfully moist passion fruit marshmallows, also noteworthy for their citrussy flavour.

As sure-footed as a Himalayan bovine

Venue: Yak Bar pasta artigianale

Style: Italian

Address: 150 Flinders Lane, Melbourne [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9654 6699

Hours: Tue-Fri 7:00am-3:00am / Sat 5:00pm-3:00am

Prices: Starters $15.00 / Pastas $21.00 / Desserts $12.00

Bookings: Recommended

Website: http://www.yakbarfood.com.au/

Angel hair pasta in squid ink sauce with calamari, shaved scallops

According to a review in The Age this week of shifts in Australian eating habits, the last decade has been unkind to Italian restaurateurs. Crazes such as low-carbohydrate diets and a preoccupation by the media with low GI (glycemic index) foods are unlikely to have done these restaurants any favours. Beloved by Australians, mainstays like spaghetti bolognese have had to compete with an explosion of choice on the dining scene, from food trucks to pintxos to authentic Mexican.

And while Melbourne is not without its stalwarts of the Italian culinary tradition, it has been a long time since I've been excited by an Italian restaurant. The cooking is invariably good but the price-to-portion ratio regularly strikes me as having been formulated in a Bizarro universe.

At Yak however, the mix of service, flavours, quality produce and value for money is in equilibrium.

Forest mushrooms with fresh goat's cheese and crusty foccaccia

We start with two beautifully plated appetisers of goat's cheese with wild mushrooms and foccaccia and a serve of tender calamari with salsa verde and shaved white zucchini.

Char-grilled baby calamari with salsa verde and shaved white zucchini

The mushrooms are suffused with rich, earthy flavour, enhanced by the decadence of the smooth goat's cheese. Good oil and herbs finish the dish. The calamari and zucchini is a marvel to look at and delicate to eat, with touches of citrus and saltiness.

Pizzoccheri with potato, cabbage, taleggio cheese, garlic, sage and brown butter

Mr. S orders the pizzoccheri on the grounds that neither of us know what it is. This rustic dish of buckwheat pasta and vegetables again demonstrates the kitchen's lightness of hand, with a burnt butter sauce adding just enough richness.

My angel hair pasta however is a dish I would return for alone, dressed in evil-looking squid ink sauce and finished with just-cooked calamari, shaved scallops and one tantalisingly fresh oyster.

Chocolate hazelnut tartufo

We cannot refuse dessert, given the quality of the meal so far and opt to share a rather anti-climactic looking tartufo. It is however finished off with good liqueur and hiding a heart of velvety hazelnut ice-cream.

Same as I ever was

Service is suitably attentive but unobtrusive, as in, our orders were taken promptly and our water regularly refilled, but no-one laid a guilt trip on us for not being interested in coffee, nor were we discouraged from sitting around to converse for more than an hour after we finished our dessert.

It stands to reason that a kind of complacency sets in with any food that becomes a staple. Yak however is doing great things with pasta and everything else we experienced. Order the one you've never heard of and know you're in good hands.

Duck season! Fire!

Until relatively recently, French was the preferred language of international relations and diplomacy. Shifts in political dominance have been reflected by this move away from French as the international auxiliary language, however, French words maintain a unique cachet that add an air of respectability/glamour to the banal (Gel Multi Tenseur Buste just sounds so much more scientific than Boob Enhancing Cream). Likewise, confit de canard is the sort of thing many of us strictly go out to dinner for.


Years ago, before I became committed to recreating feats of deliciousness at home, I didn't stop to ponder the mysteries of fine cooking - I just assumed there were no half-measures. You were either a disciple of Escoffier or you appreciated fine cookery as an occasion, subsisting on tuna pesto sandwiches during the week (delicious, actually).

Confit de canard refers to duck legs cured in salt and poached in their own fat. And if I can get it right first time, so can you - and you should. It felt obscene, suddenly having a huge quantity of succulent, glossy duck meat available to me, not to mention the skin, all crispy, golden and richly flavoured. The recipe below was a first attempt and one I will make again; the textures and tastes are in complete harmony, every bite of freshly-roasted hazelnut and softened taleggio lifted the dish into the stratosphere.

Dominant political powers aside, loud moaning is something we all understand.

Duck confit pasta with caramelized pear, hazelnuts, taleggio and sage

Serves 4 hungry people

Ingredients:
4 duck Marylands (a duck leg with the thigh attached and skin on)
Salt
Olive oil
150g raw hazelnuts
3 pears, washed, with the cores removed
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
450g fresh pasta (tagliatelle, garganelli)
4 shallots, chopped fine
Black pepper, freshly ground
Sage (or mint), washed
150g taleggio, cubed and at room temperature
2 cups white wine or chicken stock

Method:
1) To slow roast, preheat the over to 150°C / 300°F. Pat duck legs dry with a paper towel, focusing on the skin (the drier the skin, the crispier the finish). Prick all over to render out fat and salt generously.

2) Pour enough olive oil into a casserole dish to cover the base. Place duck skin-side up in the dish without the pieces overlapping and cook for 90 minutes.

3) Increase heat to 190°C / 375°F and cook for 15 minutes. Duck should be light golden brown. Remove and allow to cool enough to handle.

4) Roast hazelnuts on a clean tray. Nuts can burn quickly; 5-10 minutes should be sufficient. The hazelnuts will smell roasted and look shiny when ready. If you're easily distractable and wind up with a slightly burnt scent, it is likely to just be the skin, which slips off quite easily, leaving you with delicious, carbon-free roasted hazelnuts. Set aside.

5) Transfer duck to another dish. Pour out excess liquid in the casserole dish, reserving at least half. Slice pears into thin wedges (I recommend using a mandolin, for speed and consistency), place in casserole dish, toss with reserved duck fat and cook in oven at 190°C / 375°F for 30 minutes or until pears are very soft.

6) Shred duck skin and meat off the bones; chicken shears are useful here. Otherwise, get in with your hands and resist the urge to nibble on that luscious duck skin.



7) Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat for 2 minutes. Add the butter and shallots and cook until translucent. Add the duck meat and skin, a few sage leaves and white wine or stock. Turn heat down to medium. Add the pear if it needs more softening. Simmer for at least 20 minutes. Add more wine or the liquid from the pears if the duck appears dry.

8) Place pasta in salted, boiling water. Fresh egg pasta will need stirring to keep it from sticking.

9) When al dente, drain pasta, reserving a cup of the pasta water and add to the sauté pan with the duck. Toss the pasta with the duck. Add black pepper, hazelnuts, pear, taleggio cubes, more sage and toss again before serving.

Sacrilegious: Pho shame

Venue: MissChu

Style: Vietnamese, Hawker

Address: Shop 2, 297 Exhibition Street, Melbourne [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9077 1097

Hours: Mon-Sat 11:00am-10:00pm

Prices: Snacks $2.50 - $8.00 / Mains from $13 / Desserts $3.50

Bookings: Unnecessary

Website: http://www.misschu.com.au/

Amongst Melbourne diners, there are certain edible articles of faith that inspire something approaching fanaticism. It has less to do with fashion than it does with the fact that some eating experiences defy trends: enduring, uncomplicated pleasures like the smoky finish of good espresso, the architectural wonder that is a well-made burger and the more-ish quality of xiao long bao (burns to the roof of my mouth be damned).

It was only a few weeks ago that I finally experienced another sacrosanct linchpin of the Melbourne eating scene, in Sydney ironically. It's been theorised that phở is a northern Vietnamese interpretation of the French classic pot-au-feu. Slim cuts of boiled beef are tossed into an aromatic broth with rice noodles and finished with garnishes of Thai basil, fresh lime, chilli and bean sprouts. The broth was wonderfully bold and spiked with ginger, with the garnishes adding heat, aniseed and acid. And whilst my late grandmother was no aficionado of Asian cuisine, she would have been delighted by such tender, flavourful brisket.

So I was puzzled to find MissChu offering a Wagyu beef phở on their menu. I wasn't clear on why you'd drown such produce in an aggressively flavoured broth, but I felt duty-bound to test out another phở and both Mr. S and I enjoyed the look of the rest of the menu.



By night, MissChu is a very cool, casual venue offset by flickering candles. They've made the most of a narrow space which serves just as well a relaxed diner or a pre-drinks stopover (indeed, I plan to return on a non-school night to sample the coconut crush mixers). Peruse your tuckshop order forms, as well as the specials board and place your order at the counter.

Mixed rice paper rolls

Mixed rice paper rolls are moist and refreshing, which is the very least you'd hope for from the self-styled "Queen of Rice Paper Rolls" ($6.50 for 2). Inventive combinations are also on offer, like the egg omelet with creamy avocado and caramelised onion with balsamic.

Prawn and crab net rolls

Mr. S and I share a serve of the prawn and crab net rolls ($5.00 for 4), which I misunderstand to be your typical spring roll, with filling whorled up inside of a single sheet and fried. Rather, these net rolls are a solid snack offering: delicate and crunchy without being greasy, with firm, juicy chunks of seafood within. I ensure each mouthful includes a lashing of sweet chilli dipping sauce and a few pieces of crisp lettuce. Mr. S agrees that the net wrapper is inspired and we consider ordering more, however, we've another course on the way...

Wagyu beef pho 

MissChu's Wagyu beef phở ($14) is a problem. Premium ingredients aside, it is the sort of thing that draws people in - or turns them away - all on its own. If your basic dish is handicapped, you won't solve its deficiencies by dousing it in truffle oil. Likewise, this bowl of pho is a disappointment. The broth is not particularly flavoursome, even with the addition of the condiments. Worse, the hero of the dish - the beef - is chewy and doesn't taste of much. Sadly for MissChu and for me, the Wagyu tag comes across as nothing more than a cynical attempt to exploit premium cachet.

This goes some way towards explaining some of the negative reviews MissChu has received, I believe, as overall, Mr. S and I liked the food and the venue and we'd return. We capped off our meal with a bowl of coconut ice-cream studded with chunks of coconut flesh and topped with toasted almonds and fresh mint.

The Queen of Rice Paper Rolls is certainly adept with food, if not marketing.

Relative cost and outcomes: Dessert recipes

Some years ago, I was heartened by a confessional piece penned by food journalist Matt Preston, wherein he admitted that his guiltiest pleasure was Coco Pops with a dollop of cream. This resonated with my definition of what it means to be a gourmand: to embrace food as something both nourishing and sensuous. It may also encompass an appreciation for the refined but it shouldn't exalt this aspect above all others, because to do so is to limit oneself. In the words of Clive James, "The human personality is a drama, not a monologue." Passionate foodie that I am, I vacillate between desires, from the wonder of cutting edge palate cleansers to the unapologetic satisfaction that is packet Mi Goreng at the end of a long Saturday night.

As far as techniques go, making mousse barely qualifies as cooking. Much more skill is required to make, say, individual dessert tarts. Nerd that I am, I can't help but think of this in terms of cost-benefit analysis. Individual tarts require a significantly greater investment of time and effort than mousse; will the resulting pleasure derived from eating the tart be higher than that of the mousse, reflective of and equivalent to the extra work put in?

Laziness won out in this instance and I went ahead with the mousse. What I did not anticipate was the reception this basic dessert would receive. Granted, it is delicious and I adapted it from Bill Granger's recipe to exhibit the flavours and textures that I like best: a velvety mouthfeel, crunchy almonds, sweetness, citrus and bitterness.

I've struck out the egg yolks, as I feel the mousse is rich enough already.

White chocolate mousse w/ orange and almonds

Serves 2 [simply double the quantities to make more]

Ingredients:
100g white chocolate
2 egg whites
35g caster sugar
80ml thickened cream
20ml milk
1 tsp vanilla extract (vanilla essence will work as well, but extract delivers better flavour and the visual pay-off of the little black dots from the vanilla pod)
2 tbsp flaked almonds
1 tbsp Grand Marnier (substitute in more orange juice if you're going for a non-alcoholic version)
1 orange, reserving 1 tbsp juice plus zest

To decorate:
Orange zest
White chocolate curls (these can be shaved off of the edges of your white chocolate block)

Method:
1) If decorating, make your orange and white chocolate curls first. Orange zest curls can be made using a very sharp vegetable peeler.
2) To make white chocolate curls, shave along the edges of the chocolate block using your vegetable peeler. This can take a few attempts to get right. If you're a klutz like me and it takes you so long to work out that the chocolate starts to soften in your hands, whack it in the fridge and then try again.
3) Break the chocolate into pieces and melt with the milk and vanilla extract in a heatproof bowl over a double boiler, stirring until smooth and set aside to cool to room temperature.
4) Beat egg whites until, gradually adding caster sugar until glossy peaks form.
5) In a separate bowl, beat the cream and then fold into egg white mixture with a large spoon.
6) Fold the cooled chocolate mixture, orange juice, Grand Marnier and flaked almonds into the egg whites and cream mixture with a large spoon.
7) Pour mixture into serving bowls/glasses and allow to set in the fridge.
8) Once chilled, top with orange zest and white chocolate curls and dive right in.

Circus in the clouds - Vue de Monde @ Rialto

Venue: Vue de Monde

Style: Modern French, Molecular Gastronomy

Address: Level 55, Rialto, 525 Collins Street, Melbourne [Google Maps]

Phone: (03) 9691 3888

Hours: Lunch Tue-Fri & Sun 12:00pm-2:00pm / Dinner Mon-Sat 6:00pm-11:00pm

Prices: Lunch Express $60 / A la carte 4 courses $150 / Gastronomes 10+ courses $250

Bookings: Absolutely necessary, should be made online

Website: http://www.vuedemonde.com.au/

If your significant other is anything like me, Vue de Monde may not be the place to take them, unless you like the idea of feeling cuckolded by a plate of brioche.

At the base of the Rialto, we're a little confused by the numbers in the lift well, which end at level 54. We're approached by a woman in a neat black skirt-suit who advises us she's just sent the elevator up but that it will be back for us shortly. Having checked our booking and muttered into her handheld transceiver, she confirms that our mission, if we choose to accept it we may ascend.





The Lui Bar is a stunning space to enjoy pre-dinner drinks of Irish whiskey (1995 Knappogie Castle) and a Negroni, served with blanched almonds in Campari and orange toffee. Unlike the restaurant proper, the bar does not take reservations and is open to all and sundry. And with a snack menu that includes head-scratchers like "Roadkill terrine," I'm bound to pay another visit soon (for investigative purposes, obviously).

Shannon Bennett's shift to the upper echelons of the Melbourne skyline only see him amplifying the depth and complexity of flavours on show; the food is bolder than ever, which suits the dramatic, low-lit interior and the tables dressed in kangaroo hide. Accents of fur-lined seating and tableware fashioned out of vine sticks and river stones are all the more rugged looking, set against the yawning, glittering view across the city.








It is a given that my attitude towards this establishment is rapturous. After Shannon visits our table to welcome us and finish plating the first course, I explain to my darling Dom that the guy is a rock star as far as I'm concerned. This is Dom's first time at Vue de Monde and while his lust for food is on par with my own, he has no taste for pretension and spends much of the evening sweetly mocking me.

To wit, we're both stumped by the coin-slot openings in some of the river rocks on our table. The waitress clarifies that they're for holding steak knives, but Dom has already decided that they resemble something less than savoury.

You decide

The meal begins with five different amuse bouche:

• crisps with mayonnaise,
  
• crunchy pumpkin pieces,
  
• smoked eel encased in white chocolate and topped with caviar,
  
• venison tartare sandwiched between dried wagyu, and
  
• translucent pouches of oyster and lime.

Dom places the venison sandwich in his mouth and asks if we might have ten more of those. He is also impressed by the smoked eel and white chocolate, which I am enjoying for the second time with its lip-smacking combination of salty, oily, smoky and sweet. The pumpkin pieces are bland by comparison, but the crunch has its place amongst the softer appetisers.

Mixed amuse bouche

Finished with a grating of lime zest, a plate of spanner crab is crunchy, salty and bright, the kind of delicate opening to a meal that I favour. Dom can take it or leave it and is having a much better time with the hot, plush sourdough and quenelle of cultured butter at the centre of the table.

Spanner crab, broccoli, beetroot, crustacean dressing

Our attendant returns with the Cona Vacuum Coffee Percolator and I assume we're to enjoy VDM's signature bouillabaisse, but the broth is too dark for that and the upper chamber contains pine needles. New plates are placed before us, with a selection of mixed mushrooms (wild, pine, enoki) and we're told that the kitchen staff refer to this dish as a 'walk through the forest.'

Percolating pine needles...

This was a polarising dish. I didn't drool all over myself per se but I found the aroma and depth of the broth to be very seductive. The pine needle flavour was definitely there, as well as a caramel-sweetness and some nuttiness. Perhaps it was too aggressive for Dom, because while he finished off the whole mushrooms, he insisted I finish his broth, as I clearly enjoyed it far more (he also maintains that he needs a much fancier spoon to eat with).

Pine mushrooms, walnuts, bird's cress, cona infusion

The last time I enjoyed VDM's extravagant surf and turf, I ate each component separately. I can safely say now that eating all three parts at once is the way to go, even though it means the experience is a little briefer. The marron remains the veritable king of crustacea, with its meaty flesh that is less sweet and more savoury; I slather it in the hazelnut butter and crown it with the beef sandwich.

Marron, beef tongue, brown butter emulsion

As for the next course, be still, my beating heart. I'd had a variant on this dish before but it's been refined and the sex has been amped up, with the depth of flavour of the onion jus, the creaminess of the purée, richness of the egg and the decadent earthiness of the truffle shavings ricocheting around my mouth like a culinary multiple orgasm.

Fried duck egg, lamb sweetbreads, pickled onion and fresh black truffle

Along with our cutlery being reset, we receive, without a word, a wooden pestle...

 

Mystery pestle

We're each served a bowl that is pretty as a picture, which is ironic in that I didn't have time to capture a photograph of it. A mix of miniature flowers and herbs is finished with a cascade of dry ice, which we're then asked to grind up using our pestles. Once reduced to a fine-ish powder, scoops of cucumber sorbet are placed on top, forming our delightful palate cleanser course.

Cucumber sorbet, crushed herbs

Having taken a break on the outside balcony, we reconvene for the arrival of one of the stars of the evening. The colour says it all: perfectly seasoned, succulent, yielding kangaroo flesh, with crisp accompaniments and the conversation ceases as we eat with gusto. Unfortunately, the daubs of lemon mousse are a misfire, much too bitter and tasting of a chemistry set.

Kangaroo, radish, swede, turnip, lemon

Thoughts of misfires evaporate however with our final savoury course: pieces of Blackmore wagyu beef finished with cherry sauce, crisp chestnut slices and fragrant garlic foam. I closed my eyes and chewed each piece well beyond what was necessary to aid digestion. I did not want the experience of eating this beef to end. Flavour to make your knees weak and luxurious marbling.

Blackmore wagyu beef, chestnut, wild garlic, cherries

As for dessert, I ask our attendant to surprise me. In the meantime, Dom discusses options for a cheese plate.
 

Cheese chatter

His selection includes a mild goat's cheese, a rich and creamy Délice de Bourgogne, a sharp gruyeres and a very generous piece of unpasteurised Roquefort. Accompaniments include pear mousse, rhubarb in syrup, apple matchsticks and candied fruits, with the fig really standing out. The unpasteurised cheese is like no blue we've tried before, exceedingly moist and a little bit fizzy in the mouth. Dom prefers the gruyeres for its wonderful sharpness, whilst I cannot get enough of the Roquefort.

Mixed confit, cheese selection of goat's, Delice de Bourgogne, gruyère & unpasteurised Roquefort

For dessert, I receive a VDM classic: their elegant chocolate soufflé finished with warm crème anglaise, spiked with plenty of vanilla. It wobbles slightly as my spoon dips in, coming up with a big helping of soufflé, sauce and crème.

Chocolate soufflé with chocolate sauce...

...finished with warm crème anglaise

In spite of the fact that we're too full to even consider tea and coffee, our attendant brings us a selection of gorgeous petits fours anyway. She really ought not to have done so, because Dom does not have a sweet tooth and I am just about forced to eat them myself, as I cannot abide waste. The slippery, sweet and sour lemon jub-jubs return along with thyme marshmallow puffs and "lamingtons," which are actually little squares of chocolate mousse topped with jam and coated in coconut. New to me is the VDM Golden Gaytime, a little bite of buttery smooth ice-cream with a crunchy coating.

Petits fours

With another exquisite meal at Vue de Monde at an end, I'm interested to know Dom's thoughts. While not everything was to his taste and he would have preferred double helpings of anything featuring meat, he called it an experience like nothing he'd had before. The circus claims another disciple.