Levantine Hill Estate’s restaurant a homage to Jreissati family’s roots

You may have seen their racy red helicopters and driven past their massive new winery but does the food stack up at Levantine Hill?

Kara Monssen

3 min read

May 24, 2022 - 12:00PM

Food

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A glass dome concealing a smouldering secret lands at our table.

Conversations lull, eyes fixate. Once the cloche lifts and smoke settles, a knockout pork belly dish is revealed. Perhaps the best you’ll try all year.

Juicy meat, melty fat, crackle-snap fine skin. Then there are mounds of smoked date puree that take it to another level.

Like their fleet of “look at me, I’m important” red helicopters, Levantine Hill’s ultra-luxe restaurant also demands attention.

Ta dah!

There’s a lot to love about this pork belly.

Those in the know will be across property mogul Elias Jreissati and his family’s ambitious Yarra Valley winery, which has been tipping its hat to life’s finer things since 2009.

But a lot has changed in between drinks.

Firstly, that squillion-dollar hanger-style winery and function space that you’ve clocked along the Maroondah Highway has finally opened.

Winemaker Paul Bridgeman’s Grange of the Yarra Valley, Optume, also went to market for an eye-popping $800 a bottle, pricing itself in the Penfolds and Henschke big leagues and dramatically higher than any of its other already expensive wines.

The Levantine Hill Estate winery was designed by Fender Katsalidis.

Finally, golden goose Teage Ezard (Ezard, Gingerboy) flew the coup, ending his culinary partnership with the winery at the start of the first lockdown.

Initially he was replaced by Luke Headon (who went on to become Society’s executive chef), with Vinnie Robinson (Southbank’s Blondie Bar) stepping into the role.

Scallops. Picture: Nicki Connolly

After a Covid cleanse and brand reboot, Levantine Hill leans into its Levant roots, with Robinson now sprinkling the family’s heritage across scaled-up weekend lunches and early dinners.

There’s no a la carte here, with only two expensive set menus to choose from ($145 for five courses or $195 for seven), but still plenty of choice if you want to stay within budget or break the bank entirely.

Snacks to start. Picture: Nicki Connolly

Maybe 30g of Beluga caviar to start your day? That’s $340. A few sips of Optume? A pineapple will get you 50ml. But if you’re on Romanee Conti money (That’s $16K for a bottle with your meal), you’re probably also taking the helicopter that lands outside the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling glass windows, which has packages starting at $695 per person.

It’s a fancy pants affair and at times outrageously expensive, but is backed up by quality and Robinson’s solid work in the kitchen. It’s great value for money, even at the base.

A procession of two-bite snacks kick things off.

Fluffy focaccia and scone-like flatbread to daub in dips, either a roasted red pepper Muhammara or spiced sweet pumpkin and pepita for us, olives, ultra-crisp tapioca crumbed pork croquette adorned with more of that smoked date puree, and mayo-squiggled half qukes topped with bursty, Yarra Valley roe. A fine start.

Turkish manti. Picture: Nicki Connolly

Next up are two scallops bouncing in their shells with a slick of orange aleppo oil and topped with a gritty bitter black version that’s humming with spice and heat. Hopefully, you’ve still got bread for the mop-up.

More good things follow, including that pork, and tiny Turkish dumplings (manti) bobbing in a burnt butter and carrot cardamom puree, tumbled with finely diced, just-cooked vegetables plucked from the on-site garden. It’d be nice if those dumplings were made in-house, but the dish is mighty wholesome, with wicked texture and flavour.

Dark horse dessert, the hazelnut semifreddo. Picture: Nicki Connolly

But the dark horse of them all was dessert – a hazelnut semifreddo that’ll tickle every part of your pleasure centre.

A velvety-soft texture contrasts with toasted hazelnuts, caramelised white chocolate chunks, shatter-fine baklava sheets, fresh strawberries drunk on Middle Eastern staple rose syrup and fresh mint leaves. Well balanced in texture and sweetness, it’s downright delicious.

I’ve been to many trips to the Hill as a guest, and it’s always a magical affair. The good vibes continued on this visit under the veil of food critic anonymity too, but what became abundantly clear was Levantine Hill is a place where you’re made to feel important – if you can afford it.