Maxwell Wines | SA Weekend restaurant review

Inventive but not intimidating, this McLaren Vale gem has slowly but surely grown into one of the state’s best winery restaurants, writes Simon Wilkinson. Here’s why.

The provision of bread to sop up the remnants of a sauce or gravy is, in my book, one of the most reliable indicators of a restaurant that cares about its customers.

At Maxwell in McLaren Vale, however, they take this basic act of hospitality and elevate it to a whole new level. A pair of waffles, their dimples all dark and sticky, arrive on a folded napkin, as if they are the crown jewels. Tearing them apart greedily, it becomes apparent they have not been made with a normal batter but a croissant-style layered pastry that is brushed with beef fat before being put in the press.

And that while supplying a house-made ricotta for dipping is commendable, the waffles’ true purpose on this earth is to be swiped through the glossy puddle of sauce at the base of a block of grilled wagyu. Nobel prizes have been awarded for less momentous inventions.

Supplied Editorial Beef fat waffle at Maxwell restaurant, McLaren Vale

Supplied Editorial Crab, cauliflower and bush tomato at Maxwell restaurant, McLaren Vale

This final savoury course is Exhibit A of the sensible sophistication and egalitarian appeal that has taken Maxwell, slowly, surely, to a place among the very best of the state’s vast array of winery restaurants. And it is a reflection also of the crowd-pleasing qualities of the wider Maxwell business, built around the enduring popularity of its defiantly big-boned reds and whites, as well as the honey-based mead.

All this comes together in a striking, golden-stoned cellar door, where tables in the original dining room opposite the tasting benches are now supplemented by those on a newly enclosed deck. Both spaces offer cracking views down to the estate’s maze and a majestic willow tree resplendent in golden foliage, and beyond that the vine-clad slopes heading towards McLaren Vale township.

For the past six years, the Maxwell kitchen has been overseen by Fabian Lehmann, a chef who learnt his craft in the Michelin-starred restaurants of Europe before following his heart to this part of the world.

In that time, his offering has evolved significantly in format and substance, to the present single tasting menu of 10 courses, starting with a sequence of bite-sized snacks. First comes the childlike thrill of plucking a beautiful shell from a “rockpool” of black pebbles. Flip it over and there is treasure to be found – delicate strips of poached abalone stuck to the base with a “glue” of Jerusalem artichoke.

Supplied Editorial Abalone, sunchoke, dill at Maxwell restaurant, McLaren Vale

There’s more magic in a tart case formed from a layer of chicken skin. It holds a filling of breast meat bound in an anchovy mayonnaise, topped by a frizz of fried leek. The same goes for a playful crab cracker, its red colouring from bush tomato rather than anything crustacean, resting on a mound of divine blue swimmer meat and cauliflower cream. Poached mussels are blanketed by a froth of their cooking juices, as though a wave has just crashed over the top. Also hidden in the depths is a disc of salt-baked celeriac and cubes of Granny Smith apple with a sweetness that is jarring. An additional dollop of caviar will set you back $30.

Next, a mini doughnut topped with chorizo mayo and pancetta, more filler than killer, introduces the meatier plates. Pork belly is brined and cooked in fat for three days (yes, days) to make a small, fat-streaked slab that hovers somewhere between bacon and the stuff of your wildest fantasies. A buckwheat risotto and smoked hock broth only just keep it grounded.

Supplied Editorial Pork, buckwheat and chorizo at Maxwell restaurant, McLaren Vale

Then it’s the waffle, with an exceptional cut of wagyu sirloin, burnt onions, crisp kale and another optional extra of grated WA truffle.

Next, a cleansing sorbet of the Filipino cumquat known as calamansi sinks into a pillow of Earl Grey foam. A more dessert-y dessert has multiple links with the winery – caramelised oak-chip ice cream, malt crumble, mead sabayon and mead jellies, all crowned by a malt crisp with the Maxwell logo stencilled on top. Not many commercials taste this good.

And it’s straight from the house playbook. Inventive but not intimidating. Comfortable rather than confronting. Created for the customer not the chef.