Dolly at Le Méridien restaurant review: Kara Monssen visits glam hotel eatery

A hotel restaurant influenced by its theatrical past may be overegged and predictable — but there’s one Oscar-worthy dish worth trying.

Dolly at Le Méridien leans heavily into the old-Hollwyood cinema era in all that it does.

Coming to a movie theatre near you ... is a story about another (yes, another) hotel restaurant and its quest ... to become a star. Dolly ... dares to dream. In a city so oversubscribed with talent, does Dolly make the final cut?*

Well, it’s better than most. Just don’t roll the credits too soon on that Beef Wellington. Put its name in lights.

Dolly is the main act at new city hotel, Le Méridien, which has planted its flag at the old Palace Theatre-turned-cinema site on the Paris end of Bourke St.

Fittingly, the hotel has embraced its history by exuding old Hollywood glam in all it does.

The lobby cafe looks like a candy bar, the light-bulb lined bathroom mirrors could be dressing room doubles and even the name is a nod to Alfred Hitchcock’s dolly zoom camera technique.

Lucky those Le Méridien megabucks keep the operation looking classy over cringe.

Dolly’s Beef Wellington steals the show.

Dolly made her big screen debut in Melbourne’s Mad March – at the same ribbon-snipping time as uber-luxe Ritz-Carlton and South Yarra’s boutique Royce – so understandably, it got lost in the mix.

For a city so spoiled in the eating and drinking stakes, hotel restaurants need to come out of the gate strong to make an impact.

The mark-ups on almost everything (did someone say $12 beer, including not alch) make them less appealing to locals. Unless there’s a name chef in a lead kitchen role, other Oscar-worthy performances are expected to get me in the door.

Dolly has a solid crack, especially in the drinks space. Big names and timeless classics lead the wine front, from here and abroad, while the cocktails are modern with The Everleigh behind three pre-batched signatures. Classics on request.

The Everleigh helped in the cocktail stakes.

With respect, Christian Graebner may not have that Gordon Ramsay celebrity chef status, but the man knows his way around a hotel kitchen (previously at Marriott, Sheraton and most recently Pan Pacific, the old Hilton).

His Euro-flare translates on the plate and naturally the classics take centre stage.

Those perky scallops, served in shell, are teeny for their price ($24 for two) and overwhelmed by taut cumquat and robust chicken jus dressing.

I’ve had bigger and better elsewhere. I did warn you, that hotel tax is real and noticeable at Dolly – especially with those smaller shares, which hover around $30 each.

Bizarrely it’s cheaper and more varied to choose your own adventure than lock in to either of those feed me options ($75 for two, $99 for three).

All diners do get two gloriously fluffy potato focaccia slices and a small bowl of buttered popcorn for their snacking pleasure free of charge.

Dolly heroes the classics.

The artfully plated salt-baked beetroot ($26) wrestles for your attention with texture and flavour: those earthy and juicy beets act fresh in the face of an astringent and bitter walnut mousse, though hold all applause for Graebner’s signature beef Wellington ($56).

The deconstructed dish champions those full flavoured tenderloins and shattery puff pastry crusts – it’s what dreams are made of. Bolster with a bowl of mashed potatoes or beans and it’s shareable between two, especially if you’re down for the blockbuster bombe alaska ($42).

Rolled out on a trolley, torched tableside, showered in candied popcorn – it’s the most razzle dazzle we’ve seen all night, and one of the more expensive desserts in town. She’s a lot, and a chore to finish between two. Dolly at times feels a little predictable, and isn’t my first choice of hotel restaurant in this town, but at least you know you’ll get dinner and a show.

* Spoken in that slow, over exaggerated movie trailer voiceover. You know the one.