SA Weekend restaurant review - The Lion Hotel

A landmark pub enters a new era with new owners, an eye-catching makeover and revised dining formula, writes Simon Wilkinson.

It’s a tough time to be running a pub. As the constant stream of stories and lobbying across the media continue to remind us, ongoing Covid restrictions are taking the fun and the revenue out of the hotel game. No dancing. No singing. No standing. And the threat of another lockdown only a few positive tests away.

Still, where some see obstacles others see opportunities. Enter the Duxton Pub Group, a partnership that has been on a buying spree in metropolitan and regional South Australia over the past year.

Between them the three owners now control more than 20 properties, from high-profile businesses such as 2KW rooftop bar in the city centre to a pair of small-town watering holes in the southeast.

The most prominent of these recent purchases is the Lion Hotel, a complex of bars, dining and function spaces based in and around a wonderful 1880s landmark building on Melbourne St, North Adelaide.

The Lion was still near the top of its game, having benefited from the stewardship of respected duo Tim Gregg and Andrew Svencis for the past 25 years.

Hervey Bay scallops and corn chowder.

While the venue’s basic structure remains similar, an update to decor and furniture has the place looking like new.

Neutral tones, pale timber and potted greenery come from the standard Scandi playbook but the use of space and light, particularly beneath the cresting wave of the rear bistro ceiling, are inspired.

The main restaurant is at the front, opening on to the footpath of Jerningham St, with tables and booth seating inside spread across a lower level and carpeted platform and oversized flowerpot lampshades hanging overhead.

While existing staff, including executive chef Jason Chalmers, have been retained, the format has changed significantly.

At the old Lion, the restaurant was a separate entity, with its own menu of intricately plated combinations. A list of more predictable pub fare applied in other sections.

Now, it doesn’t matter where you sit.

One menu, with both styles of dining, covers the lot. So does a deep, intriguing wine list that hints at the resources now at hand.

The only difference is that the restaurant offers table service, of a sort, meaning that while food is delivered efficiently, you might need to chase up your next drink and take charge of the conversation.

Points, however, for the offer of an extra scallop when ordering from a choice of starters where it helps to like seafood.

Whipped feta and roasted tomatoes.

These Hervey Bay specimens are presented on their shells, thoroughly grilled, so the flesh has lost all translucence, tucked up under a doona of gloopy corn chowder and dark rye crumbs. A cluster of salmon roe pearls is balanced on top.

Slices of raw kingfish from the Eyre Peninsula are lightly cured in a ceviche-style “tiger’s milk” before serving with salted cucumbers and spring onion oil.

Whipped feta features in two dishes, including a combination with a mix of cherry tomatoes of which the ones that are roasted until intense and jammy are best.

For larger plates, schnitzels, burgers, and fish and chips are included under a “Classic” heading, that is distinct from more complex (and expensive) mains.

Tanned little pillows of fried gnocchi are tossed with spring vegie patch stars asparagus and sugar snap peas, crumbled ricotta and a dribble of pesto. So far, so good, but a layer of tomato passata at the bottom feels like a leftover from a different plate.

Fried gnocchi with asparagus and sugar snap peas.

A saffron-and-chilli-infused broth is the highlight of a loose riff on bouillabaisse, with mussels, pipis and pearl couscous all working to support a crisp-skinned fillet of “wild-caught barramundi” in which the flesh is strangely soft and unappealing.

This leaves the “Lobethal lamb rump” a clear winner, the thick slices rosy pink in the middle and singing with the kind of flavour you might imagine comes from grazing in lush winter paddocks.

They are supported by a thick zucchini cream, peas and onions braised with balsamic that need something done to mellow the acid.

Both desserts we try are a carefully balanced stack of balls. The best is a pulled-apart cheesecake combo of freshly baked pistachio biscuits, poached rhubarb and a creme fraiche mixture that could do without the scoop of citrus sorbet.

A little refinement and editing could make a big difference here. Perhaps the systems and controls are still being put in place.

Given the rapid expansion of this group, the right formula is important, not just for the Lion, but pubs across South Australia.