SA Weekend restaurant review: Ekhidna at McLaren Vale

With prices like these, a cellar door restaurant in McLaren Vale is competing with some of the region’s stars and doesn’t quite stack up, writes Simon Wilkinson.

Cellar door and restaurant at Ekhidna wines.

The concept of value means different things to different people when it comes to eating out. For some, it will be based on a simple calculation of dollar per kilo … the bigger the better, with quality very much a secondary concern. Others will take the opposite view.

Such considerations come to mind when main plates are brought to the table at Ekhidna Wines in McLaren Vale. To my left is the plump breast from a well-endowed chook. On the right a substantial block of roasted pork belly. Meanwhile, my “market beef” amounts to four cubes of steak that look like half of someone else’s shashlik.

And, looking at the wider question of value, this is the more substantial of two courses at a set price of $60.

Throw in dessert at an extra $20 – yes $20 – and Ekhidna is charging at least as much as a couple of this region’s absolute stars. Some things here just don’t add up.

Ocean trout with mandarin and pickled kohlrabi at Ekhidna Wines, McLaren Vale.

Let’s start with the setting on a property west of the main road between McLaren Vale and Willunga that Ekhidna has called home for the past five years.

While it affords a majestic view across vineyard and gumtrees to the backdrop of the Willunga range, the restaurant space has not aged well.

Tatty carpet, burgundy feature walls and questionable artworks are reminiscent of a hotel function room of the 1980s.

The adjacent covered courtyard might be more rudimentary but at least will give you a breath of fresh air.

As well as the vines and an expanse of grass, the surrounding landscape boasts a selection of well-developed fruit trees including a vast fig covered in netting and a line of citrus that forms a hedge facing the roadside car park.

The crop doesn’t go to waste. Figs figure prominently in both an entree and dessert, while oranges, mandarins and lemons also appear regularly.

Less easy to justify is why ocean trout, farmed interstate, would also be included twice. The first time features the belly, shaved into fine slivers that are given an aburi-style blast of a blowtorch so they hover in a twilight zone, neither raw nor cooked, luscious and scorched all at once.

Fig and caramelised onion tart at Ekhidna Wines, McLaren Vale

They are overlapped on a ceramic plate and topped by mandarin segments, pickled kohlrabi (or “German turnip” as it says in the glossary), fried enoki and a potent soy gel that can be overwhelming if not applied with care. More troubling is the amount of five spice powder included in the brown crust coating strips of fairly ordinary calamari that are turned into the savoury equivalent of a cinnamon-dusted doughnut.

A crisp puff pastry case is loaded with glossy lobes of caramelised onion, fresh fig halves turned cut-side-up to show off their luscious crimson insides and blobs of grilled goat’s chevre that are needed in each mouthful to make the other parts play happily together.

Market beef and smoked cabbage at Ekhidna Wines, McLaren Vale.

Now for the mains. The pork belly stands upright like an imposing fortress, surrounded by a golden moat of pureed pumpkin that is crossed by a drawbridge of poached quince. Cider and shallot sauce in a jar to the side adds some acidic cut and thrust to the balance. The pork meat itself is fine but the crown of skin is still leathery and hasn’t crackled.

The roasted chicken breast is cooked about as well as this portion can be: flesh tender and juicy (I guess it has been brined), skin properly tanned. Beneath it, however, is a swampy green sauce that is meant to be leek, or maybe leek and zucchini, but tastes of neither. The podded peas that are promised have been replaced by flaccid, overcooked snow peas.

In the end, then, my mini-meal comes up trumps.

Chicken breast and leek puree at Ekhidna Wines, McLaren Vale.

The steak is nicely grilled and seasoned, its natural beefiness enhanced by the herb and vinegar of a vivid green chimichurri sauce. The withered leaves of a gently smoked red cabbage, roasted onions and carrots all add their different toasty notes.

The dessert we pick to share, unfortunately, is a bit of a train wreck. Figs poached in red wine and little additional sugar are an uncomfortable fit with a super-sweet marsala custard and cloying syrup, while a sheet of meringue curled on top has the consistency of half-dried Spakfilla. If that sounds a little harsh, remember what they are charging.

The endearing smiles of its young staff and the quality of its regional wines help explain Ekhidna’s apparent popularity. But for that kind of money, I reckon there are dining experiences of far greater substance to be found in other places. It all depends on your values.