Herringbone in Adelaide’s CBD is a new venue with fashionable tastes
A RELAXED, community-minded hub serving food that is honest and satisfying … it’s a winning plan for new city eatery Herringbone.
DOUBLE-peeling broad beans, to be frank, is a pain in the butt. First the nobbly, fur-lined pods must be torn open to reveal their kidney-shaped offspring. These are picked or flicked out into a bowl, then scalded briefly in boiling water before the tough outer layer can be slit and the luminous green core popped out.
All this palaver sees a big bag of pods whittled down to a depressingly small heap that, despite being exquisite eating, doesn’t leave much to share around.
No wonder the procedure is normally the reserve of the mildly obsessive home cook or highfalutin restaurants with big kitchens and plenty of hands on deck.
New Halifax St diner Herringbone is definitely not highfalutin. And its narrow open kitchen means even a team of three chefs have to be careful where they tread.
In these early days of spring, however, broad beans are too good to ignore. The solution? Leave on the outer skin, scorch them in a superheated pan and throw them into a mix of veg with fried gnocchi.
It’s a dish that typifies the approach of chef Quentin Whittle, who has taken over the former Panacea along with old buddy Ben McLeod (Peel St) and Paul Tripodi, a colleague over the past couple of years at Norwood’s well-regarded Stone’s Throw.
For Quentin and Paul, it’s the first venture to risk their own coin, but any concerns that they might feel the pressure to get all flashy in this shift to the CBD are quickly dispelled.
Quite the opposite really. A smart name and logo, also reflected in the pattern of subway tiling on the pass, is the extent of design sensibility. Most of the renovations have been DIY, down to the sanding of the tabletops. The manifesto is to provide a comfy, unpretentious diner that fits the growing community of the city’s southwest.
Six weeks down and things are going to plan. On a Wednesday night, the front room is full, so we are moved through to an enclosed deck, under the canopy of a tree, a spot that will be more in demand in warmer weather. At least staff have a sunny disposition as we to and fro over ordering before deciding it’s all too hard and asking them to choose.
The cooking, as you might have gathered, favours substance over style. These are big, wholesome plates that won’t always light up Instagram. A slab of focaccia, still warm and with a sheen of oil, fixes any hunger pangs, before slurping down Coffin Bay oysters coated in a slick of green nam jim that ebbs and flows with the salty sea juices. Staying on the front foot with flavour, Ortiz anchovies encased in a scraggy crumb and herb coating are dipped into a green tartare with pickles and capers. Boom.
It wouldn’t be an Adelaide restaurant without kingfish sashimi, this one spattered with fermented chilli dressing and crowned by crumbly leaves of roasted kale that might have fallen from the boughs above.
Those broad beans feature twice in quick succession. First comes a light, silky skordalia, still with plenty of garlic on board, topped with a spring medley of peas, beans and herbs. It’s a sorta dip, sorta side. Pretty much the same veg — potato, beans, asparagus and zucchini this time — are rendered in very different form for the excellent gnocchi, all bound together by a chlorophyll green spinach and parsley puree, blobs of chevre and more chilli.
Lamb shoulder looks like an alien life form but is one of the best things I’ve smelt for some time. Fortunately, the fragrance of spice with an elusive anise note is an accurate indicator of how it eats: superb portions of slow-roasted meat, the cooking juices sharpened with pomegranate molasses, smoky eggplant pulp, crunchy chickpeas and whole chillies, fried black, that are a treat for those who are game.
Desserts keep things low-key. Segments of dried pineapple are wafers for twin scoops of coconut sorbet topped with kaffir lime sprinkle, while a slim, luxuriously rich slice of chocolate tart gets the jaffa treatment with blood orange segments and candied peel.
Herringbone won’t float everyone’s boat. Some will pick up on the repeated ingredients or find it unrefined. However, if it opened in my neighbourhood I’d be happy eating unpeeled beans any time.
HERRINGBONE
72-74 Halifax St, city, 8232 3523, herringbonerestaurant.com.au
OWNERS Quentin Whittle, Paul Tripodi, Ben McLeod
CHEF Quentin Whittle
FOOD Contemporary
BILL SNACKS $3.50-$10 SMALL $14-$28.5 LARGE $24-$38.50 DESSERT $14
DRINKS Do you like riesling from Clare, Tassie or Mosel? You’ll find them all on a short but wide-ranging list with a few choices around the $50 mark. BYO $20
OPEN LUNCH Tue-Fri DINNER Wed-Sat
AND THE SCORE 8/10