Simon Wilkinson reviews The Henry Austin
THE old Chesser Cellar, one-time bastion of conservative Adelaide, is now home to a dining experience that breaks all the rules.
THE bear in the corner sports a monocle and has been christened Henry. Old-fashioned menus are out, replaced by bowls of “yum cha” you can choose to take or leave. (“Chicken liver pate, kohlrabi and quandong dust?” Why not.) Booze is sold at cellar-door prices and takeaway lunches are packed into tiffin tins. And all this subversive carry-on is going on in the wood-panelled chambers that were once a clubhouse for conservative Adelaide.
In a city where restaurant openings rarely stray from a well-worn formula, The Henry Austin has so many storylines it is hard to know where to start.
For almost five years, the old Chesser Cellar had sat unloved and unoccupied, its potential as a venue overshadowed by its daunting scale and layout, as well as bundles of red tape. Enter ratbag Englishman Max Mason and local dynamo Tess Footner who, with encouragement from Renew Adelaide, found inspiration, rather than challenges, in the building and its past.
The basement is now a bottle shop and snug. The ground floor is the dining space, furnished with antique tables and chairs that have their own stories and the bar originally came from the gasworks.
Trays of food are lowered from the first-floor kitchen via a dumb waiter and offered around the floor. This take-it-or-leave-it yum cha format works well for a few snacks but, when stretched to a longer meal, means constant interruptions, constant decisions, and too much time subconsciously adding up what could become a substantial bill. There’s also the small pang of guilt when rejecting a dish that has clearly taken someone upstairs a great deal of effort.
Better then to negotiate upfront, for either a $65 or $85 menu, and then being free to focus on what’s important. Portions start small and grow slowly, so slowly that it can feel a tease. Yes, that mussel is sublime but can I have another, please? However, while the “big-feed-is-a-good-feed” brigade might scoff, this succession of little tastes does build into something rather special.
Chef Shane Wilson (ex Bistro Dom) isn’t the type to make a hullabaloo but he really has found his mojo here. He delivers some of the most interesting, and flat-out delicious moments of the year, delving frequently into a tucker bag of native ingredients, but keeping the flavours delicate, understated, like the bloke himself.
The brine from superb, freshly shucked Smoky Bay oysters mingle with the tang of blood lime and a tickle of mountain pepper. Gorgeous little mussels, closer to raw than cooked, flop about in a pool of buttermilk with cubes of cooked fennel and radish. A house-made rice cracker loaded with chicken liver pate then topped with slices of fermented kohlrabi and a dusting of quandong powder is an unlikely hit.
The meal rolls on, in flights of three dishes, a mouthful or two in each serve. A piece of lightly smoked kingfish sits on avocado puree all hidden beneath a blizzard of shaved raw and roasted macadamia. Pork rillettes is so creamy and innocent you’d never guess the meat was picked from cheek, jowl and other bits of the pig’s head. Salsa verde, pickled onion and horseradish tag-team to cut through the richness.
Spencer Gulf prawn comes in two parts – the body meat dusted in dehydrated desert lime, and the heads, fried to make an irresistible crunchy snack looking like a creepy-crawly. The only real misstep is a tartare spiked with so many Asian bits and pieces the beef is overwhelmed.
The progression of smal bites is lovely but by now a few of us are hanging for something more substantial. Right on cue: pressed lamb shoulder, with the how-does-he-do-it combination of seared spice crust on meat that requires neither knife nor teeth to eat. With a parsnip cream, Jerusalem artichokes and radishes, it is sophisticated, satisfying comfort food.
Finally, a pair of desserts, our favourite an unlikely match of tart rhubarb sorbet, blobs of super-sweet white chocolate fudge and river mint. At the end of a marathon meal, this wham-bam flavour double-punch is just what we need.
The Henry Austin, like its bear, might take some getting used to. It dares to be different and needs to see which parts of its risk-taking will work. But, then again, perhaps that’s what the doomsayers were forecasting when the Chesser Cellar opened for lunch all those years ago.
THE HENRY AUSTIN
29 Chesser St, city, 8223 2998, thehenryaustin.com.au
OWNERS Max Mason, Tess Footner
CHEF Shane Wilson
FOOD Contemporary Australian YUM CHA $8-$20 CHEF’S MENU $65/$85 DRINKS Small selection of wines by glass, or browse through local labels in bottleshop and pay $15 corkage
Open for LUNCH and DINNER Mon-Sat
SCORE 8.5/10