Victor Churchill Melbourne restaurant review 2024

Spending top-dollar on steak seems outrageous in this cash-strapped climate, but this world-class Armadale butcher and fine diner is proving why it’s among the world’s best steakhouses.

Let’s not tell porkies — Victor Churchill is expensive. But oh so worth it.

I won’t mince my words. The steak stakes were already incredibly high well-before I pushed through those bronze-sausage link door handles into the carnivorous Wonka-land of cow.

I’m talking about Victor Churchill, Armadale’s response to a Homer Simpson fever-dream, which has built a mighty — and meaty — reputation over the years.

First came the “most beautiful butcher shop in the world” quip by late rock star chef Anthony Bourdain after visiting the Sydney HQ.

Earlier this month, it was named the world’s 11th best steakhouse.

The Puharich family must, and should be, proud.

Fourth-gen butcher Victor and son Anthony have been in the game for decades, scaling Vic’s Premium Quality Meats to be the nation’s biggest premium meat distributor before Anthony dialled things up again with Victor Churchill’s first Sydney store in 2009. Three years ago they opened in Melbourne.

If you’ve been fearful of committing credit-card warfare and are yet to visit, I’ll take it from here.

Victor Churchill is the answer to a Homer Simpson fever-dream. Picture: Pete Dillon

Part butcher, part fine diner, Victor Churchill is one for the meat lovers. Picture: Pete Dillon

Part butcher, part fine diner, it’s an extravagant mix of meat and marble, a place where Peaky Blinders dapper butchers in smart caps shave fancy hams in full dining room display.

It’s where expensive cuts play crown-jewels behind shiny glass, each collared with an equally sobering price tag. Yes lamb cutlets are $98.99 a kilo, an ultra-luxe minute steak will set you back $105.99 big ones per kilo. This place makes out the supermarkets are doing God’s work. So why am I reviewing a place that puts you in serious danger of blowing the weekly budget in this cost of living crisis? Great question.

I have two answers. a) It isn’t that expensive if you strategically order b) Everyone, at least once, needs to experience the sublime magic that can come from eating truly superb steak.

A treat yourself moment. Or at the very least, I encourage anyone to spend 90 minutes in this space to question why all lunches or dinners aren’t like this.

Maybe you’ll wonder why you’re not served half a loaf of free sourdough (and I have pics for proof) and whipped butter to nibble while you wait, or why every two-bite snack you’ve consumed until this moment in life hasn’t led you to moaning pleasure like chef Angel Fernandez’s (ex-Botswana Butchery) Jamon Iberico puff ($18 each).

The half-moon flaky pastry oozes with gooey gruyere and chorizo, topped with prosciutto made from rare acorn-fed pigs from Spain. Drool.

Or even the wagyu bresaola cigars ($14 for two; beef bacon made from elite Japanese cows) filled with a parmesan so sharp it’s no match for buttery fat.

Or maybe you’ll lose it over those Western Australian scallops ($13 each) swimming in bone marrow butter and breadcrumbs, their bellies wrapped in a guanciale (cured pork jowl).

It’s da bomb, a flavour bomb.

Wagyu bresaola cigars.

The steaks — and stakes — were very high.

Add near-perfect glass of Chablis ($25) or Dom (for the unobliged, $85) to build the buzz, heck even the no-booze negroni is worth a whirl ($16).

Reminder, this all happened before the Rolls Royce of steaks was wheeled in my direction.

A Victor Churchill signature; a 250g full-blood wagyu, a chuck shoulder cut, or zabuton, so cushy tender it translates to pillow in Japanese.

At $99, you’d hope all four pieces (eek don’t do the math) are as pleasurable as the next.

Clichéd as it sounds, the edges did melt in my mouth, the salt, pepper and blackened char working its magic with every chew. Backing yourself in on butter isn’t a bad move either; as smothering each pinkish tile with the Cafe de Paris spread brought so much joy.

Kid in a candy shop vibes. Picture: Pete Dillon

A full-mustard service (horseradish, Dijon to seeded and hot English) or traditional sauces are also on show. Word of advice? Order a side of fries and that wodge of iceberg; so fresh it cancels out all that ranch dressing, blue cheese and candied bacon hunks.

But you don’t have to lash out — steaks start at $68, most of the charcuterie is $22 a pop, and you can snare rotisserie crackled porchetta and salad for $45.

I won’t tell porkies, Victor Churchill is up there in price. Though if you’re looking for a treat yourself moment or are curious to see if the joint lives up to its world’s best title, you have my word.