Eating Out: The Butterworth

FOOD critic Gail Williams hit The Butterworth Bar and Kitchen in Perth's CBD and discovered a smooth operation for an eatery just opened.

the butterworth bar and kitchen

FOOD critic Gail Williams hit The Butterworth Bar and Kitchen in Perth's CBD and discovered a smooth operation for an eatery just opened.

Sorry, sorry, sorry, Damien Young. I committed the cardinal sin of restaurant critics. The doors had been open barely an hour when I rocked up for lunch at The Butterworth Bar & Kitchen making myself about as welcome as Julia Gillard at an Alannah MacTiernan barbecue.

But so smooth was the operation, so slick was the service and so spot-on was the food, I only found out later that it was their first day.

I'd been itching to get inside Perth's newest restaurant - before next week's official opening - for months, just to sneak a look at Young, chef and part-owner, strutting his stuff in the open kitchen.

I'd been watching with interest the transformation of the mausoleum-like, onyx-laden XO restaurant in Exchange Plaza into a slick Sydney-style eatery worthy of the fabulous site.

I headed across town for lunch with Long Lost Luke who was heading off to Norway the next day. We marvelled at the fit-out as we sat at the smooth-planed timber table with a niche view of the Swan River and the work-in-progress that is Elizabeth Quay near a smattering of stockbroker types in earnest discussion.

Luke and I were on a strict timeframe so we pointed at the marron ($21) and jamon serrano  ($19), toasted to Norway with a glass of Ingram Road chardonnay - and then let our jaws drop at the food presentation.

There was the little marron tail, curling like a caterpillar under the crisp brussels sprouts leaves with crispy bits of mojama (air-dried tuna, made in-house over three days) sticking out like wings.

There were melt-in-the-mouth moments with the almond tofu (also made in-house) which was nestling somewhere in between.

It was all over too quickly.

Luke's jamon serrano dish was also achingly pretty, though Luke looked at it and said the cat might have thrown it up. Lucky cat.

And there was compressing and cryogenics and some very fine dicing in the puddle of honeydew and feta tartare, which was garlanded with wisps of serrano. Delicate purple borage flowers were scattered on top.

I closed my eyes and dipped in. It was a knuckle-biting moment.

Cool, fresh and clean.

There was nothing extraordinary about the mains in the way they were listed on the menu. What was extraordinary was the production of the pork shoulder cigar that came with the poached red pork tenderloin ($40) and the plating up of it by Young to make it look so effortless.

Luke's rack of Arkady lamb ($42) was equally astonishing with an eggplant and lamb neck presse square, which defied the intricacy of the dish.

A final maestro touch here was the mint and apple salad, which came through as a cleansing finish. By that time Young had popped by to say hello.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I said.

"Doesn't matter a jot,'' he replied.

Of course, it wouldn't. That's confidence for you.