Previous SlideNext Slide

We’re rarely in the mood for a margarita, but tonight was the night.

It arrived. I’ve got shivers up my spine just thinking about it. Bloody hell, it was disgusting. Plan B. We ordered wine and as we did, I motioned to the waiter that I had finished with the offending – er, offensive – cocktail.

“Everything okay with the drink sir?”

“Well one minor thing. Why does a restaurant this good use margarita mix? It’s dreadful.”

I smiled to take the sting out of it.

“Sir, I can assure you we don’t.”

We watched him go to the bar and speak to the cocktail guy. There was some waving of hands and tasting the drink with straws and then our waiter came back to the table. It was worse than we thought.

“Hmmm sorry about that sir. Yes. Well. I have just learnt that he also uses bottled lime juice.”

What he meant were those dreadful little teardrop-shaped plastic bottles – the yellow one for lemon, the green one for lime – that, I think, are still available in supermarkets. Horrible stuff and so shelf-stable they have a half life similar to plutonium 239.

He offered to make one for us. “Nah, all good.” But he insisted. He returned a few minutes later with a stunning, beautiful, smoky, citric, well-balanced margarita. Chalk and cheese.

Maybe they should sack the bar manager or at least have a good talk with him, Tony Soprano style. Because here we are, wasting good column centimetres talking about something that is an embarrassment to a restaurant that is pretty much spot on as far as food and service goes.

This kitchen must have its dehydrator working day and night.

We are at Miss Mi, a new restaurant at the Novotel Hotel on Murray Street.

The furniture, décor and lighting are perfectly good in that androgynous, big hotel chain kind of way. It’s modern, comfortable, very schmick and moodily lit, a lovely room. It was chocka with happy punters.

The chef is Filipino-born Alex De Leon, a professional with a good CV and a lot of skill.

Chilli crab and prawn dumplings were good. The wonton wrapper was well steamed but tensile, the filling was chunky and tasty. The best bit, by far, was the sauce. It was a creamy, almost bisque-like soup with mesmerising Asian flavours subtly deployed. Stunning.

A couple of weeks ago, you may recall we were at a riverside restaurant where the lamb ribs were dry as an AA meeting and thinner than a cobra’s lips. Miss Mi’s lamb ribs were as luscious and plump and fatty and char grilled as the other ones were mean and desiccated.

These had a Szechuan glaze. It was good too, adding sweet saltiness to the meat and propagating the crunchy, caramelised char. Don’t you just love it when collagen-rich lamb fat bursts in your mouth? No? What’s wrong with you? Sooooo good. A small mound of lurid pickled red cabbage was off to the side and it was more than an afterthought. Hard to tell whether they made it or bought it, but whatever the kitchen did, it shouldn’t change a thing.

Our hero dish was cucumber with fermented chilli, garlic crumb and prawn oil. They had quartered a small cucumber, cleverly served the four batons ice cold (one of those rare occasions when it’s okay to do so) and anointed them with fermented chilli, the crumbs and a pool of rich red crustacea oil.

Neil Perry’s Spice Temple immediately came to mind and that’s a big compliment. The cucumber was crunchy and fresh and bursting with its own juices and the garnishes added a riot of sweet, salty, crunchy, sour, unctuous, hot/cold flavours and textures. Big fan.

Barbecue beef short rib with soybean puree and ginger was a terrific recipe let down by dry rib meat. Given that I could bathe in a tub full of fermented soybean paste, it was, well, a very special disappointment.

Grilled prawns in tamarind curry was another winner. This kitchen must have its dehydrator working day and night. Another crumb was utilised for this dish, this time a lemongrass crumb and it enlivened the dish. The prawns were superbly cooked, just the right side of undercooked. The curry sauce had us asking for spoons to get the last skerrick.

So, where does Miss Mi fit into your go to restaurant list? Should you (a) rush there now, (b) put it on your list for a later date, or (c) don’t bother?

It’s a solid B+ for us; a hotel restaurant that is better than you might expect. Its food shows this kitchen knows what it’s doing with well-conceived flavours and dishes. There’s no weird stuff from try-hard chefs, just solid technique, bold flavour, imaginative cookery and a casual, likeable approach.

Now, about those cocktails.