Bistro Ode, O’Connell St, North Adelaide | SA Weekend restaurant review

A chef with some serious pedigree has made a brave move to start his own venue while many others are closing. His take on one classic dish is sure to get chins wagging.

Some of the dishes being served at Ode bistro in North Adelaide.

Who in their right mind would mess with something as timeless and delectable as a shallot pancake?

Simon Ming, chef and co-owner of North Adelaide bistro Odé, that’s who.

He blends the traditional Chinese pastry with a focaccia dough and shapes the combination in layers interspersed with crisped spring onion and a seasoning including Sichuan pepper and five spice.

The raw mix is deep-fried until it resembles a cross between a bun and a hard-shelled doughnut. It’s … well … different.

Embarking on a reinvention such as this requires a certain measure of chutzpah – but so does backing yourself to open a restaurant (your first) of this kind at a time when others are heading for the exits.

Ode bistro chef Simon Ming has a unique take on the classic shallot pancake.

The lamb kofte skewer with salsa verde at Ode bistro, North Adelaide

Fortunately, Ming has the pedigree to back up this self-confidence.

Born and raised in the Sichuan region of China, he came to Australia when he was 24, completed a culinary degree at Regency Park and landed a job in the kitchen at the much-lauded Orana, which he credits for the foundation of his cooking.

Heading interstate, he worked at a who’s who of hatted restaurants including Brae, Quay and Firedoor.

Back in Adelaide, he was part of the start-up team for Arkhe where he met sommelier Bhatia Dheeraj.

The pair discussed having their own place and last year took over the site of a former sushi bar among a cluster of all-sort eateries in O’Connell St.

They named their new venture Odé, after the Ancient Greek poems that celebrate heroic figures, but with the accent tweaking the pronunciation to “Oh-Day”.

The interior at Ode bistro, North Adelaide, has copper and slate tones.

Four months of hard work have delivered a room that is long, dark and handsome, with soft accent lighting and tones of slate and copper.

Tables are lined up along a banquette down one side with more flexible seating on the other and a walkway down the middle.

While Dheeraj is working overseas, he still oversees a brief wine list featuring plenty of international labels and the young staff on deck have the right blend of service smarts and conviviality.

In fact nothing about Odé – the mood, the format, the prices – is too formal or demanding.

And Ming’s cooking, for the most part, begins with reassuring Mediterranean (French/Spanish/Italian) foundations, before introducing a few rogue Asian elements.

The kingfish collar with romesco sauce and furikake is a triumph.

While you are welcome to order a single plate and leave it there, the $89 tasting menu offers terrific value.

Our dinner kicks off with a selection of snacks – oysters in a classic chardonnay vinegar dressing; (too) finely ground lamb kofte with salsa verde; and the shallot cakes, cut into wedges that can be dunked into labne.

Kingfish collar, a “shoulder” cut taken around the lower fore-fin, looks tricky to negotiate but large lobes of delectable, buttery meat peel easily from bone and cartilage.

It really is the best part of the fish and the combo of a smoky Spanish romesco sauce and Japanese furikake seasoning based on toasted seaweed form a surprisingly strong alliance.

Large ravioli filled with chicken ragu are laid gently on a bed of roasted pumpkin veloute and then finished with pangrattato (fried breadcrumbs) and sage.

It’s pure Eurovision until the final drizzle of chilli oil.

That is followed by more chook, with a deboned breast and thigh brined and then roasted to produce a wonderfully juicy, easy-carve version of everyone’s favourite family dinner.

Toasty-roasty carrots, prosciutto, a chicken and truffle jus and the unlikely underpinning of quinoa complete the illusion.

If you want spuds, there is also a dish of French-style mash loaded with butter.

The beef dish arrives at the same time, which feels a bit like the Christmas protein fest, but slices of dry-aged scotch fillet (cooked medium rare though no one had asked for our preference), a dab of miso and black garlic puree, another good sauce and fermented chilli will cause few arguments.

Chicken ravioli and pumpkin veloute.

A cupcake-sized version of a basque cheesecake might disguise its obligatory burnt crust beneath a berry compote but the hint of bitterness it brings to balance each indulgent mouthful is most welcome.

For five months now, Ming has been running his own restaurant and cooking the food he believes in.

Diners living anywhere north of the city should be welcoming him with open arms and rewarding his bravery.