Simon Wilkinson reviews the d’Arenberg Cube restaurant

D’ARENBERG’S new restaurant is equal parts magnificent and mad, but if you like food to push the boundaries it doesn’t get much better than this.

The d'Arenberg Cube. Picture: supplied

• Simon Wilkinson explains why he gave the Cube 9/10

AT the point in lunch between savoury and sweet, where a sorbet is traditionally served to cleanse the palate, a polished box is placed on the table before each of us. To one side, a mirror is inlaid in the timber top. To the other, a small vial of powder is wrapped in a plastic hundred-dollar bill. The idea is to roll the cash into a tight tube and use it to suck (rather than snort) the sherbet.

This is the “Nose Candy” at d’Arenberg’s Cube and the madman who dreamt up this whole shebang has his smiling face on the note. Clever? Humorous? Self-indulgent? Trashy? Whichever way you lean, the dish will certainly provoke a reaction.

A visit to the Cube is to plunge, like Alice down the rabbit hole, into Chester Osborn’s head, to see his random thoughts and fantasies, without the usual filters of conformity or commonsense. How else do you explain the way a childhood obsession with the Rubik’s Cube has been translated into a four-storey edifice that has been compared to Hobart’s Mona – a development that some believe will boost the fortunes of not just this winery, but the region as a whole.

Entry to the restaurant level requires a visit to the cellar door on the floor above.

Here, we are instructed to wait at the top of a flight of stairs, before being led down to the dining room at the appointed hour. Like some of the other service conventions – the constant wiping of crumb-free tables, the repeated questions about our day – it feels awkward.

The Scallop puree is rolled into a silky white sheet, anointed with a citrus butter and topped with a net formed from dried scallop

Particularly when there is so much else to take in.

From this elevated position, the views over the car park, winery shed and vine-covered slopes are all sliced and diced into different perspectives by the angles of the cube design.

Chester’s presence is everywhere, his random obsessions the only possible connection between the harlequin-coloured seating, the tribal masks and shields, the curtain screens based on a bohemian pattern from one of his shirts, and the phantasmagorical antique contraption that presses butter into perfect rounds.

Campfire “coals” filled with barramundi and smeared with a Vegemite mayo

The other parts to this puzzle are South African-born chefs Brendan Wessels and Lindsay Durr, a husband-and-wife team whose earlier stint at Leonard’s Mill only hinted at their capabilities. Here, with a state-of-the-art kitchen, a skilled band of helpers, a large budget and the words of Chester ringing in their ears, they are producing a succession of devilishly complex, tricked up morsels that will both challenge and delight.

d'Arenberg Cube

First come the snacks. A sphere of foie gras is transformed Heston-style into a “grape” in a tawny port skin. Campfire “coals” are filled with barramundi and smeared with a Vegemite mayo in a tribute to the chefs’ new home (it works!). Frozen pearls of bone marrow are dropped into a sesame ice cream cone with smoked cherry.

The Smoked Tasmanian eel comes in a neat package of rice congee, white soy gel, sea parley and a sheet of lardo draped on top

The “bread” is “phytoplankton scroll” and if there is a more sinful, buttery, unspeakably delicious baked item containing algae on this planet I haven’t yet had the pleasure.

The pace slows and serving sizes grow. Shards of cauliflower wafer dotted with curry leaf lean against a pile of blue swimmer crabmeat that has a hint of mild spice.

Port Lincoln sardine fillet is served up raw, its oiliness cut by a ponzu dressing, finger lime, and a gin and tonic snow. Now there’s one to divide the room. Smoked eel sourced from Tasmania is far more subtle, its delicate fats and natural flavour carefully amplified in a neat package of rice congee, white soy gel, sea parsley and a sheet of lardo draped on top. It’s Harry-met-Sally good.

The d'Arenberg Cube bar

The most complicated dish, a four-part exploration of duck and beetroot including the corned breast, grilled heart and calcified veg filled with hibiscus gel, is to me the one that tries too hard. As for the silky sheet of rolled scallop, I’d rather the original, please.

On the other hand, a faux cheese of fromage blanc, hay ash and elderflower in a soy milk skin is divine. As is the white chocolate “namaleka” mousse with lemon curd, fennel and candied ginger, so long as you forgive the conceit of Italian meringue etched out by a 3D printer.

No, dining at the Cube won’t be for everyone. The small portions, the obscure ingredients and the bold experimentation will have some rolling their eyes and venting on social media. For those prepared to shrug off some of the eccentricities, however, it’s an exhilarating ride.

D’ARENBERG CUBE RESTAURANT

58 Osborn Rd, McLaren Vale , 8329 4888; darenberg.com.au

OWNER Chester Osborn CHEFS Brendan Wessels and Lindsay Durr FOOD Contemporary

LONG MENU $150 EXTRA LONG MENU $190 (wine pairings available) DRINKS The complete d’Arenberg collection can be sampled alone or alongside elite internationals.

Open for

LUNCH Thu-Sun

SCORE 9/10