Olsen Hotel, 637-641 Chapel Street, South Yarra, 9040 1188
My score: 3/5
Steer is a Brazilian-leaning restaurant at the Olsen, the Art Series hotel opposite the Como. There’s plenty to like and much that could be tweaked. The biggest problem is that the South American spin suggests excitement but Steer is light on Latin thrills.
Melbourne diners aren’t experts on South American food so background information is crucial to enjoying it, especially at fine-dining prices. Menus need evocative cheat notes; waiters must spin folklore. That doesn’t always happen here. If a query about ‘leche de tigre’, listed in a seafood entree, had been handled differently it would have made a big difference to my table. Our bad Spanish was good enough to cobble a literal translation. But when my companion asked a waiter what this evocative ingredient might be, the reply ‘tiger’s milk’ was a frustrating dead end. Just so you know, it’s spiced citrus and fish liquid, often a by-product of ceviche (citrus-cured seafood). The wine service was similar: polite but lacking. Statements such as ‘People like it’ do not seize the opportunity to educate Australians about South American wines. On the up side, it was pleasing to be given tastes of wines ordered by the glass.
Churrasco – skewered, rotisserie meat – is available as a whole-table feast, or as an entree of quail. Like much of the food here, the quail is good, with salty golden skin and juicy meat. Also enjoyable is a nourishing vegetarian ‘risotto’ of quinoa and farro. Feijoada, a side dish described as ‘black bean cassoulet’, is a deeply tasty stew studded with pork and beef. Steaks are spice-rubbed and nicely cooked but not as showstopping as their accompaniments: refreshing shredded apple and palm heart, luscious bone marrow donut, and burnished, crunchy chips so wonderful I almost burst into tears at the thought of life without fried starch. Sauces include a perfect bearnaise. Desserts sound great (churros stuffed with chocolate; acai sorbet and yoghurt spheres) but don’t pay off.
An enormous wooden bullock threatens the entrance: it’s impressive if you stop to look, but a lack of street presence means you don’t, except from inside the restaurant where there’s a fetching view of the beast’s backside. I love a bit of rump but this situation seems emblematic of the gap between Steer’s intent and delivery. Stacy Thompson, New Zealand-born and Brazil-impassioned, is going to much trouble to cook dishes he loves. I hope he’s able to steer his baby to green pastures.
First published, The Age, November 21, 2010
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