Fancy dining was fine but why can’t we have US-style family restaurants? | Peter Goers

The US is known for excellent chains of family restaurants – accessibly priced with good solid tucker. We need family restaurants, writes Peter Goers.

Posh nosheries are struggling. First-class dining is waning in popularity. That’s sad but understandable. It’s hard on the restaurant industry because it means less work for chefs and wait staff, and less opportunity for those who can afford the money and time it takes for long, protracted, expensive dining.

Let ‘em eat cake.

I’m immune to the charms of posh dining. However, I do sympathise with those who love the theatre, imagination, anticipation, sensuality and taste sensations – to say nothing of mouth feel – of first-class dining.

Couple using cell phone while romantic dinner. Istock

They love all the trappings – the napery, silver flatware, the presentation, the breathtaking professionalism of waiters and these enraptured diners don’t mind paying a fortune to come away hungry and go to Maccas on the way home.

People are struggling financially. My mortgage has gone up by $200 a fortnight. Posh nosheries have huge overheads and wage bills. And perhaps diners are tiring of all the gimmickry. We’ve gone from three courses to degustation to share platters.

Nouvelle cuisine was the beginning of the end. Is nouvelle cuisine French for get less, pay more? Little fiddle-de-dee food swimming on a big white plate. No thanks. Then food was served on boards or slate. Then you paid a fortune for foam and smoke. Foam is for shaving and smoke gets in your eyes. Please! “What’s for tea, Mum?” “Well, Jaxxson and Cayenne, tonight it’s snow pea and artichoke foam”.

Globe artichoke with jerusalem artichoke foam.

A blow torch is an alarming kitchen device and I’m dehydrated enough, I don’t need dehydrated tucker. I can live without olive dirt.

The preponderance of cooking shows on the telly whereon amateur chefs are tortured for our entertainment, has engendered a generation of home chefs who rush out to fancy kitchenware shops to buy equipment they use once and to providores. So they cook at home.

Glamorous people whose dinner and lunch parties are featured in glossy magazines and who live in Hampton style houses or Byron Bay/Palm Beach style houses with messy brickwork and white, bag-washed walls bring in caterers, waiters and barkeeps for their swanky dos. The hosts do nothing but get impressively pissed whilst posing for pics.

I am to fine dining what the late ballet dancer Robert Helpmann was to oxywelding. Useless. I just don’t go. I’m a shockingly impatient diner. I just can’t stand the agonisingly long waits between courses which is just an excuse to drink more wine. I don’t want to be surprised by food.

Barnacle Bill’s. Picture: Keryn Stevens

I can only go to a Chinese restaurant with Willsy or Samela Harris who order for me.

Give me Barnacle Bill’s. I order two pieces of crumbed butterfish and eight prawns (no chips) for $22.60. Yummy. There is no better meal in Adelaide than a mixed grill at Vili’s Cafe with the best rissole in the whole world.

I don’t want to eat black watermelon, truffles and puffer fish. I couldn’t eat edible gold which is more guilt than gilt.

Sadly, Covid killed the buffet. Are they coming back? Why do chefs still insist on putting meat and fish on top of chips? Stop it.

The US is known for excellent chains of family restaurants – accessibly priced with good solid tucker. We need family restaurants.

The first restaurant I ever went to (apart from the Buttery in John Martin’s) was the Red Apple at Fulham. I was about 12 and it was a very big deal. We rehearsed our manners in order to go. Bring back Red Apple restaurants. And Sizzler.

Meanwhile, is first-class dining value for money? I suppose it depends on your taste but sometimes it’s the bill that leaves a bad taste in your mouth.