Tweet

Fifteen, Melbourne

We need a Fifteen in Sydney

I apologise for taking so long to blog about our gastronomic Easter long weekend journey, but there’s just one more restaurant to blog about before this series comes to a close. Well, two if you include this one.

I also would like to apologise for the photos. The restaurant wasn’t horrendously dark, but the ceilings were high and the candle slyly played havoc on the white balance. Ugh, so frustrating!

I’ve seen a couple of episodes of the Fifteen show where Jamie Oliver teaches disadvantaged kids cooking skills (and inevitably life skills), but I never thought much of his restaurant in Melbourne. That is until my fellow foodie, with eyes aglow, stated that we’re going to Fifteen and that’s final.

Fifteen’s entrance is in a small alley, which gave off the vibe of some secret food joint only the privileged knows about. The vibe was strengthened by glossy, dark wooden stairs taking you down into depths unknown. And then you notice the brightly coloured spray painted decor on the walls, which made me wonder if we had gone through the right door.

Almost at the same time that I noticed the spray paint, I saw the kitchen. I was intensely curious and transfixed by the sight of chefs going about doing their thing, seemingly totally oblivious to those coming down the stairs peering into their world. Being the big klutz I am, I almost tumbled down the stairs from trying to see more of the kitchen and what they were cooking.

We were a bit early and was asked to wait at the funky designed bar table with equally funky lights hanging overhead. Although I don’t normally drink, the fact that they had Monteith’s beer and one that I haven’t tried before, I ordered the Summer Ale, while my fellow foodie also ordered a beer for himself. Looking around at the clientele, sipping on our beverages, I noticed that it was a mixed crowd of the young and old. I also noticed with some surprise that some people were eating at the bar too even though there were tables available. I didn’t realise how casual it was until that moment.

Finally we were ushered to our table (with drinks in tow) and ordered the degustation almost straight away.

I remember watching Top Chef and one of the judges said that an amuse bouche is technically a dish eaten in just one bite. Somehow that’s stuck with me (be it right or wrong, someone correct me?) and when I eyed the round morsel in front of me, I doubted I could easily fit that in my mouth let alone chew it.

To be honest, I didn’t mind too much that it wasn’t technically an amuse bouche (supposedly). I quite liked the perfectly crisp, crunchy outer shell contrasting with the soft zesty tomato risotto inside. The aioli sauce added a creamy texture that complimented the two mouthfuls quite well.

I found this dish to be a bit difficult to eat, only because we were provided with an ineffectual knife to cut the cured salted duck. The meat actually reminded me of a beef jerky, only much thinner… and made of duck; it was just as tough though (and I think it’s meant to be?).

None of the components in the dish were unnecessary, everything had a reason to be there – adding or balancing the flavour and texture. I found the figs and greens refreshing, but I think what really made this dish pop was the honey. It was light but made the duck ever so flavoursome – sweet (but not cloying) and bringing out the saltiness into perfect harmony.

I love smoked salmon so it wasn’t too surprising that I practically inhaled this dish. The salmon was so fresh and as always, the creme fraiche was the perfect partner-in-crime – with dill no less.

The ravoli was a tad bit cold by the time it got to us, but that was quickly overlooked as its taste proved to be much, much better than it looked. The pasta was perfectly al dente and I adored the sage – I’m not sure what technique was used, but the sage was crisp and dry, very similar in texture to that of the Japanese roasted seaweed.

“Be careful with the chorizo, it does have a bit of a kick,” warned our waiter, as he placed the dish in front of us. Heeding his caution, I nibbled on a tiny portion of the chorizo. Initially, I didn’t think it was so bad – the flavour was bold and quite scrumptious – but then the spiciness kicked in and I gave a small cough, reaching for my water; my eyes tearing up just a bit. Holy moly, the spiciness was totally understated. Even my chilli-loving fellow foodie had problems finishing it. I know it’s a bit mean, but we had a bit of a giggle at some of the other diners as they tried the chorizo – coughing and spluttering to varying degrees, all of whom reached for their water.

Despite the intense heat of the chorizo (which I secretly thought was akin to a nuclear explosion and numbed the tongue in its fallout-like effect), the rest of the dish was well balanced in flavour and texture. We agreed that this was most probably the outstanding dish in the degustation.

The tuna steak was seared to perfection – entirely soft, moist and wonderfully seasoned. The salsa brightened up the flavour and the chick peas gave the dish that contrast in texture. It’s the tuna steak that’s been haunting me though – so craving for another one.

There was a sense of bitter-sweetness as we were served our palate cleanser – we knew this degustation was coming to its end.

The sorbet was denser than I had anticipated and seemed more like an ice cream, lying thick on the tongue. Not that I minded with the delicious flavours languishing in my mouth. Both flavours were easily discernible and none over-powered the other.

The candied mandarin was a gorgeous accomplice to the rich frozen chocolate semi-freddo. Although I don’t have much to say about it, this was another dish I adored.

I love cheese, but I think I prefer to not have a cheese platter during a degustation. It was good, don’t get me wrong, but for me personally I would have liked to end the dinner on a high than on a dish that I thought was middling-ly nice.

While we were at the bar, we couldn’t help but notice the wide open space where the waiters picked up the dishes to be served. We watched the dishes come out from the kitchen, the tall man would sprinkle some garish on to the dish, maybe meticulously wipe the dish clean if needed, and call out, “Service please”. Once, he had to call it several times and you could hear the frustration in his voice as none of the busy waiters had dropped by to pick up the dish.

Just to the left of the entrance steps lies the bathroom (walls and doors generously decorated with the colourful spray paint) and this ornate private room. I loved the chandelier and how one of the walls is covered in its entirety with equally ornate framed paintings. Maybe it was just me, but I thought it gave off that old English aristocrat opulence feel and it made me wonder how much it would be to hire it out for a cozy dinner with friends. Perhaps I should have asked.

I quite liked Fifteen’s air of casualness and its creative modern decor (there were what I think are herb plants in glass globes hanging from the ceiling, complete with soil!!). The staff were friendly, knowledgeable, and most of the time quite efficient; service got a bit slow when the restaurant started to fill to capacity, but they held up well.

On leaving the restaurant, I felt a pang of regret. Why does it have to be in Melbourne!? We need a Fifteen in Sydney.

Fifteen
Basement, 115-117 Collins St
(Enter via George Pde)
Melbourne, VIC, 3000
Ph: 1300 799 415
Web: http://www.fifteen.net/restaurants/fifteenmelbourne/Pages/default.aspx