Farmer’s Daughters brings Gippsland to the heart of Melbourne

Top chef Alejandro Saravia’s new Melbourne restaurant is a beautiful love song to Gippsland.

The elegant and delicious baked Baw Baw Alpine trout with mountain pepper cream.

Against a postcard-perfect backdrop of rolling pastures stretching as far as the eye can see – which is across Corner Inlet to Wilson’s Prom and Bass Strait beyond – there’s Alejandro Saravia, his cheeks smeared with ash, his leather apron dusted with coal, his smile as wide and warm as the fire pit he’s been tending through the night.

Surrounded by hulking masses of splayed beef, whole beasts that had been roasting over coals for hours in a scene at once primal and elemental and as far from a city kitchen as you can get, he’s obviously found his happy place.

It was March, 2018, and Saravia was helming a Melbourne Food and Wine Festival event that showcased the best of Gippsland produce across a long lunch held on an ethical and sustainable Gippsland Natural Beef farm.

Saravia first brought Peru to Australian plates and palates – first at Sydney’s Morena, then at the acclaimed Pastuso off Flinders Lane, but it’s the produce of Gippsland, that expanse of Victoria that stretches from the outskirts of suburban Melbourne through alpine ranges to ocean across the best milking pastures in the country – that has captured his heart.

“Campfire fish” is John Dory from Corner Inlet. Picture: David Geraghty

The chef reckons Gippsland is one of the most important farming regions in the country, and since arriving in Melbourne in 2014, Saravia has forged strong connections to the region and has been its official food and beverage ambassador for a number of years.

What began as a paddock-to-plate collective to showcase Gippsland producers, Farmer’s Daughters, is now Saravia’s three-level celebration of the region in the heart of the CBD. Three years in the making, Farmer’s Daughters is one of the signature hospitality venues at 80 Collins and features a ground floor deli, second-level restaurant and rooftop bar.

We’re here for dinner at the restaurant and the smell of smoke from the open campfire kitchen tickles the air, which most of tonight’s set menu – that comes in a four ($75) or six-course ($110) form – has been touched by.

It’s worth plumping for the longer menu, if only for the pork skewer that’s part of an opening trio of plates.

Along with Lakes Entrance hapuku simply served sliced raw and dressed in a grassy herb oil and dusted with heady lemon myrtle, and some pickled cauli and raw radish, the skewer of organic, grass-fed cheek meat (from Eagle Creek Farm) is cooked as is over the coals, the fat caramelising into a self-saucing sticky glaze.

Heirloom tomato with Snowy River Station seagrass.

It’s an extraordinary, revelatory few bites.

A fat fillet of warmed Baw Baw trout comes swimming in a bath of milky cream brightened with mountain pepper and dotted with roe that’s seriously drink-from-the-bowl good. Thankfully there’s house-baked soda bread with a honeyed sweetness and chewy dense crust on hand to mop and save me from embarrassing myself.

That the bread also comes with cultured cream to slather upon is the proverbial icing.

John Dory from Corner Inlet – arguably the best fishing spot in the country; certainly the most sustainable – comes blackened over the fire, the sweetness of the fish tempered by the bitterness of the char, a sauce of sweet corn tying the lot together.

There’s a plate of subtly smoky heirloom tomatoes in a broth of their water that’s a less-is-more showcase of prime produce, while a plate of organic lamb – fat-crackly, pink and satisfyingly chewy – comes with a terrific broccoli cream that’s vibrant in its decadent verdancy.

That campfire is powered by old vines from Gippsland wineries that feature on the tight list that’s an equal celebration of the region, and is just one of the clever full-circle touches found across the venue.

The open campfire-powered kitchen. Picture: David Geraghty

The handsome dining room that takes inspiration from the colours of Gippsland. Picture: David Geraghty

With the open kitchen and fire providing theatre, the room is artfully refined in hues evocative of the Gippsland bush – greens, greys and the gold of a glorious sunset – with reclaimed timber tables simply set with leather placemats and elegant stemware.

It makes a soundtrack like an 80s Blue Light at the Leongatha Town Hall somewhat at odds with the rest.

It’s a rare misstep. The other, the campfire marshmallow to end that lacked the one thing a campfire marshmallow is worth eating for: the sticky, blistered, blackened molten outer. Without that, it’s just a marshmallow which wasn’t helped by a bitter, burnt chocolate “soil”.

But as far as a mission statement from the heart come to fruition, as a celebration of our state in the heart of the city, Farmer’s Daughters is another restaurant Melbourne – nay Victoria – needs right now.

Gippsland’s truly gold.

FARMER’S DAUGHTERS

80 Collins Street, Melbourne

Restaurant: dinner Wed-Sat

farmersdaughters.com.au