Frolicking Around Naarm: The Busy Bee Edit

Melbourne is a strong contender for the coveted spot of Australia’s food capital. And that makes sense — our trip there wasn’t even remotely about the Australian Open. We were basically there to eat the city. And eat the city we did! ദ്ദി (˵ ¬ ؂ ¬˵)

I don’t like oysters. Until I’m in Melbourne. And in Melbourne – the oysters are creamy, never fishy and always topped with something extraordinary. In Fitzroy’s Poodle Bar, the oysters are … from Sydney? However, finger lime mignonette and lashings of mandarin oil gives it that Melbourne certified je ne sais quoi. Dressing as bright as a January day.

However, at Soi 38, they’re much feistier. Hailing from Coffin Bay in Adelaide, the 38 way is to lean into the Thai direction of keeping it a little spicy, but incredibly fresh. And the best part? Heaps of crunchy golden fried shallots and salty pops of ikura.  

Now, to debunk whether Melbourne tramples Sydney’s controversially acclaimed ‘dead’ night-life?  While I can’t definitively crown it king, I’ll say this much:

HER Bar ain’t shit ୧(๑•̀ ᗝ•́ )૭ !💢

However, Melbourne truly does house stunning, less clout-chasing bars:

Yugen, South Yarra

• With the prettiest interior, it’s an intimidating dining room where servers communicate 007 style with earpieces. The top-shelf liquor really is on the top shelf.
• While the menu isn’t necessarily brave or new in terms of taste, a few bar snacks like grilled edamame or the silken tofu make it work.

Bouvardia, CBD

• Hidden in Melbourne’s labyrinthine streets, this is where cocktails are made with equal parts spunk and gastronomical science.
• We had the “Violet, You’re Turning Violet!” –  made to taste like blueberry pancakes, maple syrup and mascarpone.

Sistine, Windsor

• The most sinful of all – Sistine is new, seductive and deplorably (tastefully) gauche. The décor gives Vatican but the music is Melb-rot quintessential house.

Curious Bar, W Hotel

• Otherworldly. The commitment to design – as if trapped in a spiral shell, or the interior of a piano – we are in the place of a heart in between someone’s ribs.
• The conversation runs too easy here, the wine comes in a glass the size of a bathtub and there’s cheesy truffle fries. Walk with me here.

When the party winds down (or you need fuel for the next round), last and certainly not even close to least – Hell itself – delicious, ass-burning, Sichuan hotpot. An assault to the senses, numbing peppercorns wrestle us entirely awake.

Panda Hotpot is grandly kitschy; with a two-tonne steel dragon suspended overhead, ancient China is pieced together in a sliver of Carlton. Our favourite toppings were the coriander and prawn mash, sweet napa cabbage and the lobster balls. Also if you select ‘Mild’ for the broth thinking it will arrive as described, you are stupid.

These peppercorns and chillies are imported direct from Chengdu. Think critically.  

To wrap-up this chaotic (poorly strung) article, here were the personal favourites from our party of four:

• Marina: Ondo’s sujeonggwa, an amber coloured Korean punch that’s spiked with cinnamon and ginger.
• Tan: “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” from 1806 – a dreamy cocktail with Zubrowka vodka, vanilla custard, sugar, muscat and Frangelico – served in a vintage crystal glass.
• Kenton: Another appearance from Melbourne’s beloved Soi 38: charred grilled pork jowl with a mandatory squeeze of lime.
• Bee: Aforementioned Poodle –  a gracious tin of Yarra Valley smoked salmon caviar, crème fraiche and hug-warm madeleines.