Previous SlideNext Slide

What does a bowl of gnocchi in a fancy winery restaurant have to do with a girl resting her head on a pillow stuffed with buckwheat husks? Everything, actually. If Helen Xu didn’t have such fond memories of her parents’ buckwheat harvest in China’s eastern Zhejiang province, she would never have thought to put buckwheat “gnocchi” on the menu at Re’em, her new restaurant in the Yarra Valley.

In the bitter chill of winter, in a home with no heating, Xu’s family gathered to form buckwheat flour and water into “mice”, so-called because of their resemblance to those small rodents. These dough balls were plain and simple with the mellow flavours Zhejiang cuisine is known for. The feeling for young Helen was warm and cosy.

For this memory to make it onto my plate, it took a confluence of ambition, determination, dreaming and nostalgia. Helen Xu grew up a farmer but went on to study science and become a food chemist at Nestle. In 2009, she moved to Australia with her husband, Joey Zeng, and they bought the 80-hectare property, an hour or so from Melbourne, that’s now Helen and Joey Estate. We should mention the textile-ink export business that helped fund it.

Re’em is ravishing, but there’s something humble and striving about it, too.

Late last year, a new cellar door, barrel room, 16-room hotel and this 110-seat restaurant opened between a cow paddock and the vineyard. It’s a deluxe build, helped along by a $3.5-million contribution from the Victorian government on a promise of increased employment and tourism. I can’t see why the investment wouldn’t be realised.

Back to the “gnocchi”. The name should be changed because it sets up airy and ethereal expectations, whereas these are chewy in a way that recalls Korean tteokbokki, a glutinous rice cake. They are an utter thrill, tossed with a mushroom ragu laced with doubanjiang, a spicy, fermented bean paste that nods to the heady flavours of Zeng’s Sichuan heritage.

I don’t think they should call the dish lao shu (the Chinese term for mouse) even though the pickled shimeji mushrooms garnishing it have long tails, but “gnocchi” doesn’t do it justice either.

The naming glitch is a sign of the forces at play in the kitchen. Xu is clear about the Chinese culinary focus, but her ideas are interpreted by consulting chef Mark Ebbels (ex-Fat Duck) and head chef Abe Yang, whose Korean background filters in, too.

The menu structure is European with individual (but shareable) serves and knives and forks rather than chopsticks, but there are Asian elements woven throughout; I love it.

Most winery restaurants steer towards the cuisine of traditional wine-making countries, but there’s no reason why they should be so corralled. Shaking up convention alongside Re’em are nearby Levantine Hill, which showcases the Lebanese background of its proprietors, and Doot Doot Doot on the Mornington Peninsula, which leans Chinese.

Instead of bread, you’ll get mantou, a glossy, steamed bun that in Zhejiang is filled with pork belly and offered to ancestors. Here, it’s plain – and could do with a condiment – but it’s an orb-like statement of intention.

Lamb belly skewers are cumin-glazed and grilled so the fat is crunchy on the surface while basting the meat underneath. Fried wontons are filled with tofu and beansprouts, with crispy chilli oil for dipping. Barbecued octopus doubles down on smoky flavours with a garnish of grilled turnips and gochujang mayonnaise.

Duck zips between Bordeaux and old Beijing: it’s vinegar-brined like Peking duck and the leg is confited with hints of hoisin sauce, then it’s plated French-style and served with a wonton and shaved cucumber. It makes Helen Xu think about her grandma instructing her to herd the family’s poultry into their safe-house every evening. Duck loves pinot noir, but the 2022 Re’em Cabernets is a fine pairing, bright and deeply savoury.

Desserts include a jaunty, layered honey cake that incorporates lees, a yeasty by-product of winemaking, and is topped with refreshing, bamboo-shoot ice-cream.

The staff here are accomplished and keen, well able to guide diners through the experience.

Re’em is ravishing, but there’s something humble and striving about it, too, and I think it can be traced back to the upbringing of its founder. Sitting in a panelled booth, I see Helen Xu kneeling by the ornamental lake, snatching straggling reeds, tidying and contemplating, walking by one of the unicorn sculptures that are the restaurant’s namesakes and talismans.

“Re’em” is a biblical word often translated as unicorn and, for Xu, represents the courage to inhabit your own nature, perhaps by moving countries, changing careers and building a vineyard of dreams.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine