Circl Wine House restaurant review 2024

Circl Wine House isn’t just a place to drink deliciously rare or expensive wine — the food also packs a big punch from snacks to shares and everything in between.

Circl Wine House is punching above in the food and wine department.

Calamari slips from my fork like jelly through chopsticks.

Back into the fiery, fluoro-orange lava you go ... plonk!

It glows so brightly with chilli and ’nduja, you’ll need shades inside.

I imagine each piece exploding into a puff of flames on impact. It’s how it’ll feel in your mouth in the seconds to follow. The heat, meaty morcilla (blood sausage) richness, a tingle lingering for eternity.

Calamari strands slink in a fluoro-orange ‘nduja and chilli oil.

It’s rare to taste every dimension of a dish in one bite, but this happens quite a lot at Circl. Unexpected, yes, and very much welcomed.

The CBD restaurant is the city wine project of former Ten Minutes by Tractor sommelier Xavier Vigier that’s taken three years to come, well, full circle.

He’s expertly sourced 1500 or so bottles from here and abroad, artfully selecting which of those to pour by the glass; sensibly settling on 150.

Some bottles would easily buy a decent second-hand car, others could sway the financially sound into debt after some irresponsible decisions.

Then come bottles so rare they’re restricted to one, 75ml nip per person.

And here I am banging on about squid and sausage.

Though Circl makes a point to separate itself from being a place to drink rare wine nobody can really afford.

They’ve appointed former Vue Group star Elias Salomonsson as executive chef, who gets serious with the spread.

Sweet, salty and earthy: the beetroot choux.

Cloud-like Blanc bakery sourdough ($6) that’s actually wrinkle your nose sour, in a good way.

Then come two-biters deserving of double gold in the snack-lympics: a delicately layered smoked eel tart ($12) underpinned by sharp horseradish and cleansing apple gel, cutting through a buttery fine shortcrust that’s applause worthy in its own right.

A feather-light beetroot eclair ($21) does the sweet and salty dance well; think wads of Yarra Valley goats cheese and sugar-glazed craquelin choux with earthy undertones.

Pickled mussels ($15), fat and juicy as they should be, are served straight from a curled back tin: load at your own pleasure with chunky dill mayo onto potato chips. It makes a neat bar snack if you wanted to sink negronis or martinis beforehand.

However, along with the moments of brilliance, sadly came an equal measure of meh.

The braised beef cheek ($24) felt like I was on the receiving end of an alternate drop at a wedding. The skill, technique, flavour was all there but it didn’t fire up the engines like what came before.

The smoked eel tart and pickled mussels make the ultimate wine snacks.

And forget the $50 main, Circl hard launches a $72 banger with the Loddon Estate duck: a double whammy of dry-aged confit leg and fennel seed-crusted breast, flapping in a robust BBQ orange sauce.

The blushing rosy pink tender flesh (shows off expert pan work) and slip from the bone delicate drumstick were first class, while the other parts of the bird felt like I was riding in economy — sifling through bone and ligament to find any meat. For that price, I don’t want to work for my food, especially if we’re adding spuds ($15) and salad ($14) – pushing the dial to $101 for a meal between two.

Though Circl isn’t designed for the penny pinchers. Remember, we’re in special occasion territory.

Orange and duck, a match made in flavour heaven.

Speaking of, I felt overwhelmed (also in a good way) by drink choice.

Do I start with white or red? Chardonnay or Champagne? Beechworth or Burgundy?

The price will quickly sift the woes from the pros, though there are some rare back-vintage pours worthy of a sip.

I drank a 26-year-old glass of grenache from Chateauneuf du Pape (glistening in its aged, smoky and meaty glory, $36 for 50ml) before slipping onto a 2018 Domaine du Collier Samur Rogue cabernet from the Loire Valley ($26 for 50ml).

Maybe you prefer a full glass from Aussie legends: Demi by Syrahmi in Heathcote, Tolpuddle chardonnay from Tassie — all reasonably priced per glass — or grower champagne from a dedicated chapter in the wine bible.

Circl may not be full-blown wine bar or restaurant, instead striking a solid divide of the two with an equally impressive offering of each.

It certainly solves the age-old problem of never knowing what to drink.

Circl Wine House is a restaurant, not a wine bar.