Vine dining at The Currant Shed

One of McLaren Vale’s most picturesque dining destinations looks better than ever with a smart overseas chef in charge, writes Simon Wilkinson.

Murray cod and kohlrabi at The Currant Shed. Pic Simon Wilkinson

Delve into your pantry and pull out a packet of corn chips and a jar of blackberry conserve. Load a few of the chips with jam and sprinkle over chilli. Tuck in a serviette to protect against splatter and crunch away.

Was it a bad case of the midnight munchies or a moment of divine inspiration that gave Wayne Leeson the idea of bringing together such unlikely bedfellows, albeit in a more complex, sophisticated form? Either way his dessert is the talking point, in a good way, for the drive home from The Currant Shed.

It’s heading towards two years since the South African chef took charge of the kitchen at this indoor-outdoor eatery surrounded by vineyards and a citrus orchard, just beyond the reach of encroaching housing developments outside McLaren Flat.

The Currant Shed

The partnership looks a strong one. Leeson, like his compatriots Brendan Wessels and Lindsay Durr at the d’Arenberg Cube, has come to this part of the world via a grounding at the Lake House in the Victorian countryside. But in contrast to the Cube’s intricate whiz-bangery, Leeson’s cooking is more grounded, as befits a regional dining experience in a setting so relaxed it’s tempting to kick off shoes and settle in for a long afternoon.

For the uninitiated, The Currant Shed, as the name suggests, was originally built for drying fruit in the early 1900s. A clever conversion has left it open on one side, where tables spill on to a courtyard, with sturdy plastic blinds pulled down to block the wind, most of it at least. The greying, splintery beams of the original structure stand in contrast to the flowing lines and smooth surfaces of blond timber furniture.

The waitress for our table, while young and sassy, shows the training of a well-run restaurant. Not only can she recite ingredients and answer questions with confidence, she has also eaten the food, so can nominate her favourites with a level of enthusiasm that is hard to resist.

This guidance is essential, as dishes are expressed only as a list of components and require significant guesswork. What do you expect from “Pork Peanut Chilli Bean Sprouts” for instance? Not necessarily belly in a chilli caramel sauce.

BlackBerry, corn dessert at The Currant Shed. Photo: Simon Wilkinson

While it is common for the smaller plates at the start of a meal to be high points, this lunch follows the opposite trajectory.

Snacks of grey kangaroo tartare (the colour of the meat, not the breed) and Asian-style shredded salad in nori crisp are unremarkable. The Murray cod that should be the hero of one entree turns out to be a few ragged scraps, cured to the point they have lost all natural lustre, hidden in an otherwise appealing salad of kohlrabi, avocado puree, radish and grated horseradish.

Miniature pea-green domes of zucchini panna cotta are positioned at the edges of a dollop of Paris Creek quark that spreads across the plate. Crumbled pancetta, salt-and-vinegar salt bush leaves and shavings of zucchini are scattered over the top.

Murray cod and kohlrabi at The Currant Shed. Photo: Simon Wilkinson

After these comparatively muted flavours, a rip-roaring triumph of a seafood pasta blows in like a southerly change. It is based on roughly hewed squid-ink farfalle (the bow-tie shape) that look as if they could be cut from sheets of kelp. They are tossed with octopus tentacle, mussels, clams and a wickedly good chilli butter that could make cardboard taste good. If you can resist soaking it up in a slice of toasted ciabatta you have way more willpower than me.

Slices of flat iron steak that I’d prefer a touch rarer are outdone by gorgeous sweetbreads, pan-fried to a golden crust on the outside, soft and sensual to the bite. Both share space on a bed of light, creamy jerusalem artichoke puree, while crisps of the tuber and caramelised shallots bring more roasty, toasty autumn flavours.

Pumpkin and carrot dessert. Photo: Simon Wilkinson

We don’t have room for dessert, but somehow end up polishing off two of them. The first has the orange and golden hues of van Gogh’s sunflowers, with pumpkin sponge, carrot foam, brown sugar ice cream and pepitas arranged on a furrowed strip of cumquat sauce.

Then there are the blackberries – in the form of ice cream, poached fruit and a sauce with a lingering note of chipotle – topped by sweet corn and buttermilk espuma and fried chips made of crushed popcorn to scoop the whole mess up.

It’s a wonderful surprise that, unfortunately, is about to disappear from the menu as the berry season finishes. Until next year, then, we’ll have to make do with the corn chips and jam.

THE CURRANT SHED

104 Ingoldby Rd, McLaren Flat

8383 0232, currantshed.com.au

OWNERS Emily Dowie, Hamish Maguire

CHEF Wayne Leeson

FOOD Contemporary

TWO COURSES $60

THREE COURSES $75

SIX COURSE CHEF SELECTION $95

DRINKS A winemaker’s wine list that starts local, before moving further and further away. Good options by glass.

OPEN LUNCH Thu-Tues

SCORE 15/20