Attica: Tuesday Night Chef's Table

Attica
74 Glen Eira Rd, Ripponlea (map)
9530 0111
website


I'd been lucky enough to dine at Attica twice before - but never on a Tuesday night, when the regular degustation menu is replaced by the Chef's Table five course degustation of dishes that head chef Ben Shewry and his team are testing and developing. The experimental Chef's Table menu is cheaper than the regular degustation, at $95 per head (or $150 per head including matching wines).

I'd been meaning to go on a Tuesday for aeons, and one day late last year something snapped and I made an impulsive reservation for four people on the next available Tuesday night after my trip to Japan. I reasoned to myself (correctly) that I'd surely be able to muster up some dining companions by then who were as keen as I was.


We went along two weeks ago, on the 24th. All of us, bar our designated driver, selected the $150 option with matching wines. As we drank our aperitifs (I had a Lighthouse and tonic), dining companion Matt confessed to us that he had been DREAMING of the smooth, creamy olive oil emulsion served with bread at Attica.

I don't blame him. It's to die for.


The meal started with a course that wasn't listed on the menu: two plump Sea Bounty Blue mussels from Port Phillip Bay, sitting in a modest quantity of simple shitake, bonito and soy broth. Umami KAPOW.


"Leeks and green sauce" was all the menu said about the next course. It turned out to be tiny leek stems standing upright amongst dollops of outrageously fresh fromage blanc (that the kitchen staff had made just that afternoon) and a pesto-like combination of purslane, lovage and dandelion. The leek stems were topped with dabs of macadamia nut oil and sprinkled mountain pepper, and the dish was finished off with a few foraged purslane and lemon thyme leaves. Matched with the Sutton Grange 2009 Fiano, a Southern Italian varietal increasingly grown in Australia.

This course and the next one were my two favourites: intricately composed without feeling muddled, and showcasing really top-notch produce.


By way of introducing the next course, our waiter explained that Ben is playing with the idea of taking the iconic Snow Crab dish (recipe - in Spanish - on the Madrid Fusion website) off the regular menu, and this is one of his alternative ideas.

It starts with a generous scrape of labne, then a layer of bell horn pepper. Add smoked black sesame seeds, spiced hazelnuts, scooped pulps of black russian tomatoes, black cherry tomatoes and juicy shreds of snow crab. Top it with tiny basil leaves from ELEVEN different varieties of basil, and you have one very special dish.

Upon reading the dish description I'd been curious about how the acidity of the tomatoes and the strong basil flavours would work with the delicacy of the snow crab but to my surprise they married perfectly, underscored by the creaminess of the labne. Matching it with a glass of savoury La Goya Manzanilla was a great addition too. I'm practically drooling at the memory of it: I've had the regular Snow Crab dish at Attica twice before, but I'd swap it for this one in a heartbeat.


It was at this point in our meal that our table was invited to tour the kitchen garden. A private tour by Ben Shewry of Attica's kitchen garden? My dining companions and I, all food nerds, leapt at the opportunity and we were led through the tiny, orderly kitchen in the middle of service to the back garden (formerly the car park). Ben showed us around and chatted amiably with us about what he's growing, both in the planter boxes on-site and in the 300sq metre plot leased from the National Trust at the nearby historic Rippon Lea Estate.

At the former site it's mainly herbs, including TWELVE varieties of basil and a mushroom plant from Papua New Guinea whose leaves - bizarrely - really do taste like a button mushroom.


We returned to our table for our next course, and couldn't help but smile at the ballsy simplicity of the "Fried King George Whiting". No micro-tweezers required to assemble this dish! Just a fillet in potato and wheat starch, fried for a minute and 20 seconds at 200 degrees and served with a minimalist cheek of lemon. It came with a glass of the 2010 Sato Riesling 'Petillant Naturel', a fascinating natural wine made by a Japanese former investment banker turned winemaker in Central Otago. He adds no sulfur during the wine-making process until just before bottling, which stops oxidation but not the ferment - giving the finished product a slight fizz. We loved it.


The meat course was beef tongue that had been poached then hot smoked. It was served with a mirepoix, tomato, white wine and beef jus, little strips of dehyrated wagyu and a couple of bitter leaves. This course didn't resonate with me as much as the others did, though I loved the matching of Best's 2010 Dolcetto.


The dessert was described simply as "Lemon Honey", but turned out to be a whole lot more than that (much like Attica's long-departed, fondly-remembered "Terroir" dessert). The base was a lemon honey cream, covered with shards of blackcurrant meringue, fresh raspberries and a green ice that looked too light to be made from sorrel (and turned out to be made from lemon thyme and fennel). All this was hidden under a thin plasticky sheet of pumpkin, which had been compressed in honey syrup. And as if that wasn't enough, the pumpkin was covered by freeze dried braeburn apples, powdered and arranged in honeycomb-like formations.

A real treat of a dish: like the Terroir, you could play around with the different flavour combinations, textures and temperatures. Served with the stonkingly good Oakridge Late Harvest Viognier 2009, an ice wine Viognier made from overripe grapes that were frozen after harvest.


It almost goes without saying that the service from the front of house team was exemplary. We loved too that we were seated directly in front of the test kitchen, where we could see sheets of what appeared to be the compressed pumpkin being prepared. Many thanks in particular to Ben for taking the time to show us around the garden.

All in all, it was a sublime meal. I can't wait to go back again.

Attica: the whole shebang

Attica
74 Glen Eira Rd, Ripponlea (map)
9530 0111
website


Last Wednesday I had a hot date at Attica with the gorgeous O, who had never been to the Ripponlea restaurant before. We'd been meaning to head down there together ever since we'd heard that O's friend Ainslie Lubbock (previously giving exemplary service down at the Royal Mail Hotel) was the new Attica FOH manager. We were spurred into finally making a reservation the day San Pellegrino announced Attica was ranked 73rd best restaurant in the world (one of only four in Australia and the only one in Melbourne), as we figured it would rapidly become nigh-on impossible to get a table for at least a few months.

I'd been to Attica only once before: on that occasion, Dad & I had struck a Faustian bargain with Mum whereby we were allowed to go there but only if we promised to order modestly from the a la carte menu. As it turns out there isn't an a la carte menu any more: on Wednesday and Thursday nights the choice is between a $95 five course degustation and a $140 eight course degustation (only the latter is available on Friday and Saturday nights). O looked at the menus, then at me, then smiled. "Well... it's gotta be the eight course, eh? To celebrate Melbourne Gastronome's three year blog anniversary?"

Perfectly perfect.


Okay, first of all: the Baker D.Chirico bread selection came with an insanely moreish smoked olive oil emulsion and whipped cultured butter. What made this meal so special for us was not just the combination of flavours, but also all the playful contrasts in texture. I love that Ben Shewry is such a texture junkie.

We were also brought out an amuse-gueule (not mentioned on the menu) of heirloom carrots served with a red, white and yellow carrot juice syrup. The syrup is made using the shiniest of Ben Shewry's shiny kitchen laboratory gadgets, the rotary evaporator: the vacuuum system lowers the pressure and the boiling point of the liquid over several hours (read more about the rotovap's use as a distillation device in the kitchen here), which makes the syrup amazingly intense. The dish was garnished with Meredith sheep's milk cheese, shavings of chestnut and tiny carrot-top leaves.


The first of the courses listed on the menu was the Snow Crab. I tasted this dish of crab, salmon roe, puffed rice and freeze dried coconut last time I visited, but was very glad to have it again. I just love the alternating mouthfuls of hot and cold, and the textural contrast between the snow-like powder (made from horseradish oil), the moist flesh of the crab, the pop of the roe and the puffed rice.


The next dish was an osmanthus and chrysanthemum broth with abalone and cuttlefish. The tea leaves floating in the chicken broth were strongly aromatic and the abalone was wonderfully rich.


Next up was the course described in the menu as "a simple dish of potato cooked in the earth it was grown" (the grammar fascist in me successfully suppressed the urge to add the words "in which" after the word "earth"). I'd heard so many good things about this dish, so my expectations were sky high. Wow.

The waxy potato is prepared using the Maori hangi method, wrapped and buried in an oven tray filled with dirt and then steamed/roasted for 13 hours on a low heat so that the weight of the dirt transforms the texture of the potato until it's something akin to that of a creamy scallop. Simply AMAZING. The potato, shining like a polished gemstone, is served on a dollop of sour cream, speckles of cured trout, tiny particles of charred coconut husk and crispy dried saltbush leaves. As with the Snow Crab, the dish was as much a play on textures as it was a play on flavours. BEST POTATO EVER!


I'd thought we were being extravagant enough by going for the eight course degustation over the five course, but when we were told about the additional special on offer that night, O cocked a mischievous eyebrow in my direction and said we'd have it too (!). The special was poached Western Australia marron (sent over still alive and freshly killed to customer order - gulp), done sous-vide then draped with wagyu bresaola and sea succulents. A tiny purple pile of pansy powder and dehydrated rose swirled to life when a beaker of kombu broth was added to the shallow bowl. The marron was sublime matched with the fattiness of the bresaola.


Next we had a fillet of bass groper, served with rosemary, chopped almonds, a good whack of roasted garlic chips and a viscous sauce made from chorizo-infused water and thickened with xanthan gum. Another outstanding dish.


Then it was time to move on to the meats. The rack of lamb had been roasted on the bone to tender perfection. It was served with mushrooms which had been roasted over wood, Jerusalem artichoke and delicious little balls of shanklish rolled in red quinoa. The dab of green sauce was made from forbs, a flowering plant that the lamb would have grazed upon. Although all of the ingredients were delicious, this was the one dish where O and I thought the flavours went into awesome overkill to the point where they were overpowering each other (particularly the smoky mushrooms).


The other meat dish was Angus beef which had been roasted as part of a large fillet to maintain texture, served with a toasted black sesame puree. The sides there are raw hearts of white cabbage, seagrass and amaaaazing black chips of potato, dyed with squid ink and soy and then cooked three ways (roasted, dehydrated and fried) to spectacular effect. The sprinkles on the sides are - if you can believe it! - Crystal Bay prawns that were deep fried then blended into a floss.


We were nearing the end, but I couldn't help but clap my hands together with glee when the Terroir arrived at the table. Vivid beetroot and almond cake crumbs, dehydrated raspberries, clover cress, sorrel ice, avocado oil jelly, kiwi fruit, brewing malt and white pepper with a fromage frais sorbet at the centre. I'd already had this dish before, but I'd been hoping like hell it would be on the menu because I so wanted O to try it. It did not disappoint! O started emitting little moans of wonder and pleasure with each mouthful, then wouldn't stop talking about the dish: the earthiness of the beetroot, the way the sticky chewiness of the dehydrated raspberries contrasted with the crumbs and the sorbet, the way the dish played with temperatures as a thematic echo of the Snow Crab.

I don't mind that The Age's 2009 Dish of the Year (the smoked trout broth with crackling, basil seeds and fresh smoke) is no longer on the Attica menu... but it'll be a sad, sad day if the Terroir is no longer available.


The final dish was described as "apple, olive, warm shredded wheat" on the menu, and turned out to be a sort of delicious deconstructed apple crumble. Ben Shewry came out from the kitchen to sprinkle the warm biscuity wheat crumble over the apple and to say hello. The apple component of the dish (pink lady and granny smith) had been partially dehydrated and looked like a translucent green igloo. The olive component was in the base of custard and molasses.


Finally, we were brought a couple of cubes of dark chocolate fudge - we liked the way that sprinkles of black Cypriot volcanic sea salt effectively bookended our meal, as they were also on the olive oil emulsion.


All in all an outstanding meal. On the wine front, after some bubbly on arrival, O selected an excellent Chablis (whose name escapes me) for us to drink as we worked out way through the earlier dishes. For our meat courses, Ainslie recommended we order the Giacomo Mori Chianti 2006, and we were given a glass each of Braida Brachetto 2008 to go with the Terroir. Many thanks to Ainslie and her team for top-notch service.

By the way, vegetarians: the vegetarian degustation looked AMAZING. I've written up the menu descriptions for you to salivate over in the comments section of this post.

O and I are very tempted to head back again soon for Tuesday Night Chef's Table: $80 for a five course degustation trialling new recipes Ben is experimenting with and considering adding to the menu. Or, better yet, we'd love to go along over two or three SUCCESSIVE Tuesday nights, so that we could chart the evolution of certain new dishes. Soon, my pretty, soon!

An extraordinary dinner at Attica

Another long-overdue review that's been sitting in my drafts folder! I've hesitated with this one far more than others as I just don't feel my feeble words can do the dishes adequate justice. But hey, it's Amnesty Fortnight, so here it is...

Attica
74 Glen Eira Road, Ripponlea (map)
9530 0111


"It's not one of those restaurants with foams, is it?" she frowned, her nose wrinkling in distaste.

A few weeks before my birthday, Mum and Dad had asked me where I wanted to be taken for dinner. When I immediately said Attica, her disparaging retort about foams was due to the fact that, unlike Rumpole and me, Mamma vehemently dislikes molecular gastronomy (or Nueva Cocina or Techno-Emotional Cuisine or whatever the cool kids are calling it these days) - yes, she even disliked the amazing degustation we had at Interlude the night I was admitted - so she's instantly suspicious of any place that features foams, gels, emulsions or (shudder) spheres on the menu.

"No no no, it's not that sort of place. I can't promise there won't be foams on the menu, but I've heard it's more informal and friendly and I really really want to go!"

In the end we struck a Faustian bargain: she'd come along with us if we promised to order from the a la carte menu, rather than getting the degustation (meals that go on and on for hours and have more than three or four courses are another pet hate of hers).


You can take it as a given that the setting, the wine list and the service were all exceptionally good. The sommelier and staff were most knowledgeable but not at all snooty. We started with a few Kirs Royaux and sampled the delicious fresh breads that were served with fromage blanc (made that morning), almonds, olives and pink salt.


Of course I was unable to resist ordering Attica's signature dish, the smoked trout broth with crackling, basil seeds and fresh smoke ($23).

Talk about cuisine as theatre! Watch the series of pictures of this dish on the Attica website to get an idea of what we experienced. The shallow bowl was brought out from the kitchen, without liquid. Sitting in the middle of the bowl were the cubes of trout, pieces of crackling and powdered sorrel oil, all covered by a stemless wineglass. Like something out of Hogwarts, the wineglass was filled with hickory smoke (prepared out the back using a bong) - and was smoking the trout before our eyes.

With a hint of panache our waitress removed the wineglass, allowing the curl of hickory smoke to waft up to the ceiling as it evoked memories of log cabins in the Rockies. She then deftly poured a beaker of steaming hot broth and baby basil seeds into the bowl, making the crackling uh, crackle and the sorrel oil reliquify. Swimming in the broth, the baby basil seeds looked even more like frogspawn than they did in Cutler & Co's ginger granita, but had a fantastic texture. And the trout was SO tender and SO smoky... I loved it.


Mamma went with the Snow Crab ($25), which consisted of crab, salmon roe, puffed rice and a layer of freeze dried coconut that looked for all the world like freshly-fallen snow. Fantastic textures.


Rumpole ordered the Sea Garden ($24), which contained sea flora (seaweed) as well as fauna such as prawns and clams. As with mine it arrived dry, but with a swirl of powders at the bottom of the bowl that came to life when the beaker of hot broth was poured in.


Okay, so we weren't getting the degustation. But we reeeeeally wanted to try the roasted wagyu rump ($26)... so we got it as a fourth entree for the three of us to share. And It Was Good. It was topped with chives, candied lemon and candied garlic. The curious object in front of it is actually a sheet of fungus soaked and stained in a beetroot sauce and then wrapped around fresh cherries. I KNOW. :)


For his main, Rumpole selected the Glenloth pigeon, served with celery, borage and rings of bitter onion ($45), which he adored.


I chose the slow cooked free range pork, with confit turnips, housemade black pudding and white peach ($40). I don't normally go for pork but this was incredible: all different variations of pork. There were the poached pink bits, the tall section of pork neck on the left, the twiglets of bacon and of course the black pudding. Add to that the teeny tiny tasty turnips, the deep fried cabbage leaf and the fingers of white peach, and the dish was pretty much perfect.


Preferring something a little more straightforward, Mamma went with the John dory in brown butter, with asparagus, baby squid and chorizo ($40). I didn't get around to tasting it but I loved the crowning touch: a delicate curlicue of a bread stick, soaked in squid ink.


The side salads, $8 each, were simple but interesting: first cucumber, sherry and pecorino and secondly green beans, eggplant and honey.


Rumpole and I shared the Terroir ($18) for dessert. It was an extraordinary ensemble: fromage frais sorbet, fresh and dehydrated berries, beetroot and almond cake crumbs, sorrel shoots and sorrel ice, avocado oil jelly, golden kiwi fruit, borage flowers, brewing malt and white pepper. We were both fascinated: neither of us had ever tasted anything quite like it before. Extreme cuisine - try it!


Mum selected the Sauternes custard with blackberries ($18). When it was brought out Dad and I couldn't help but laugh: filling the glass above the custard was - you guessed it - blackberry FOAM. :)


The foam was capped off with a lid of toffee, sprinkled with freeze dried blackberries. And for the record, the foam was very tasty!