Garden State Hotel

Wagyu skirt steak at Garden State Hotel

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101 Flinders Lane, Melbourne, 8396 5777

My score: 4/5

The astoundingly ambitious Garden State Hotel is more like a village than a pub with a capacity of 840 people, much potential for decorous commotion, and distinct zones built around a garden. It’s a rebuild and expansion of the old Rosati’s premises. If you were a banker – or looking for one – in the ‘80s and ‘90s you most likely danced on the bar here.

This new, more democratic, destination made me puff with civic pride. “I can’t wait for an out-of-town visitor so I can show off this impressive new addition to Melbourne,” I thought.

I’d steer them through the huge public bar with its ficus trees and pergola, and we’d probably get waylaid by beef jerky, a bolognaise toastie and a rice lager. Later we’d saunter to the basement Rose Garden for a cocktail. Make it a Fitzroy Fizz (matcha and gin) for me. Later, we’d head up to the Garden Grill, a rear dining room that’s shielded from the throng.

The kitchen commando overseeing this optimistic megalopolis is Ash Hicks (ex-Circa), a talented chef with a keen eye for produce and a customer-focused approach that sees him tweaking menus to follow diner desires. He’s got a monster to tame here and initial reports were patchy. It’s not an excuse but 14,000 people came for a gander and a gab in the first 16 days of operation. (Also, there was no gas in the building for a week prior to opening. That lack prompted a fabulous dessert: in desperation, Hicks blistered tamarillo with a blowtorch then dunked it in sugar syrup made with hot water from the coffee machine. It’s on the dessert menu, dried until it’s prune-like, served with custard and shiso.)

Anyway, I had a pleasing experience. In the Garden Grill, classic dishes are given a creative spin. Beef tartare, made with flavoursome three-year-old ox, is stirred with a tofu ‘mayonnaise’ rather than the traditional egg yolk. There’s sweetness and acidity via dried, salted tomatoes and pickled onions. Chips hide the meaty mound, all furled golden texture. Octopus is shocked in hot oil then allowed to confit as the oil cools. The tentacles are tender and meaty at once, and supported beautifully by a midnight black trio of fermented garlic, pickled baby eggplant and toasted kelp. Some dishes are more straightforward, highlighting stellar produce. Thick-cut skirt steak is concealed under a double-zing whammy of watercress and fragrant Kampot pepper. Springy buckwheat pikelets are topped with golden trout roe. Vegetables shine: there’s a dish of buttered celery stalks draped with shaved mimolette, a hard orange cheese. It’s lovely to see celery starring.

Garden State is owned by the Sand Hill Road group, which has transformed various pubs (Prahran Hotel, Richmond Club, Terminus and more) with fun fit-outs but an unserious approach to food. In the CBD for the first time, and with the appointment of Hicks, they’re steering in a different direction. Yes, there are parmas and cheeseburgers but there’s proper dining too. It’s a work in progress but it’s progress to applaud.

See their website.

More New-style Drinking:

The Cellar Door, Town Square Eastland, Maroondah Highway, Ringwood, 8845 9111.
Eastland’s indoor-outdoor dining zone includes this providore, cafe, bar and restaurant with a spacious roof garden up top.

Sun Moth Canteen, 28 Niagara Lane, Melbourne, 9602 4554.
Craft beer and natural wine are the favoured liquid refreshments at this easygoing all-day hangout with an open kitchen and simple but pleasing food.

Back Alley Sally’s, 4 Yewers Street, Footscray, 9689 6260.
Eat burgers, slices, nachos and for the next couple of weeks enjoy arty projections as part of the States of Blue festival.

North Melbourne Hotel, 480 Victoria Street, North Melbourne, 9329 1634.
Keen prices and glitzy, joyously kitschy décor are a sure signal that the Sandra and Jose De Oliveira (Bouzy Rouge) have taken over this local boozer. In a nice link, they did their own transformation to the Prahran Hotel, way before the Sand Hill Road boys got their mitts on it.

First published in The Age, 21st August 2016.