Previous SlideNext Slide

Pop quiz: what dining establishment is it impossible to get into on a Tuesday night in Perth?

A clandestine, incy-wincy reservations-only Japanese dining room in the suburbs where guests eat what they’re given? A western suburbs pasta bar that counts legendary chef Marco Pierre White as a fan? The queue for the weekly Big Don’s Smoked Meats ticket drop?

As it turns out, the place in question was none of the above but West Leederville’s sharply designed Besk. Opened in 2019 by Elliott Moore of specialist bottle shop Mane Liquor and architect Ben Braham, Besk is – to quote the website – a “proud tribute to the public houses of the world”. Also known as a pub. Just don’t expect one of those quaint, tiny pubs with carpets, Guinness mirrors and weathered patinas you see in the movies.

For starters, Besk is big. On paper, the idea of a cavernous, 200-person fortress of exposed brick could be too much, but subdividing the room into smaller spaces makes it feel less beer barn and more like a well-planned theme park made up of intimate venues serviced by the same open bar and kitchen. Like any pub, guests can make camp in a range of spaces – the public bar, a courtyard warmed by heat lamps, on tables set on the street – but the restaurant is the place to be. Or at least it is on a chilly August weeknight. When was the last time an online booking system broke the news to you that you couldn’t get a Tuesday night table at the pub after 7pm?

Besk is unapologetic about its pubby-ness.

Initially, I assumed that this lack of tables was just a mid-week safety measure that management had implemented so that they could close the kitchen early once things inevitably got quiet. Further assumptions included that we’d simply rock up, find the place deserted, then take our pick of the countless empty tables around us. I assumed wrong. Turns out Besk’s dining room really was full of couples and groups. And if it weren’t for two mates choosing to sit in the bar area (walk-ins only) and give away their table, we wouldn’t have nabbed the last spot in the restaurant.

Like I was saying, Besk is unapologetic about its pubby-ness. In addition to the aforementioned bar and dining room, the room also houses one of Perth’s better bottle shops: a happy hunting ground for anyone restocking a drinks fridge or who feels like opening something special to share with mates. (Every bottle of wine or beer can, with a corkage fee added to its takeaway price, can be drunk in-house.) Then again, considering how fun Besk’s drinks list is, most guests should have little reason to seek out the bottle-o.

Just as sommelier Trent Everitt and bar manager Jack Turnbull-Goggins have assembled a formidable line-up of wines, beers, cocktails and non-alcoholic options, chef Tom Harper’s cooking also covers lots of ground, starting with the pub must-haves. So naturally, there’s a steak (black Angus sirloin, $44). There are chips with aioli ($12). There’s also a wood-grilled cheeseburger ($20) whose MVP is a patty of (naturally) grass-fed beef blessed with a succulence and controlled char seldom found in Publandia. If the kitchen rights the wrongs of stingy salad and unfortunate shrinkage – I pity the burger where the bread dwarfs the beef – P-Town could have a new contender in its burger wars discussions.

Are punters ready to embrace tacos as an Aussie pub grub staple? I’m not sure. But I do know that if the Mexican government joined forces with Harper and rolled out his “crispy prawn taco” ($10) across the country, it would fast-track the naturalisation process. The name made me think we were getting into some sort of prawn tempura and soft tortilla situation. Instead, the taco was a hard-shelled tortilla crammed with sweet, barely cooked seafood. To the side: a bitey cocktail sauce that tastes like the apprentice got the bottles for the sriracha and Thousand Island dressing mixed up. In a good way.

But maybe well-seasoned dishes and a fondness for spice are just how this kitchen rolls. Saucy steak tartare ($24) electrified by a jolt of briny, Big Mac-ish acidity supports this theory, as do flaky snapper fillets in green curry ($38). Served with rice, the curry’s uncompromising heat levels – it’s rich and oily rather than sweet and creamy – would be perfect. Here, sadly, it suffocates such a delicate fish.

Thankfully, a prawn and lobster bun special ($28) wisely highlights the seafood. Just as Besk’s riff on the Catalan classic of “pan con tomate” ($8) celebrates the affinity that bread, garlic, and tomato (de-skinned, finely diced, very bruschetta-like) have with each other. Typically, pan con tomate doesn’t get finished with Oligasti anchovies, but this is one departure from tradition that works.

By way of warning, not every decision works or is a slam dunk. As encouraging as it is to note the robust vegetable section on the menu, I hope the other dishes are more compelling than a “tart” consisting of a baked filo pastry shell filled with lukewarm roasted cauliflower ($28). Unless you’re doing the $75 set menu, your meal may unfold according to the kitchen’s whims (“plates are sent as they are ready”) rather than a logical dining sequence where the snackier items arrive before bigger plates. Some of Besk’s systems – you order at the bar and get given a table number holder – do little to allay any cog-in-a-machine feelings, nor does curt service from disinterested staff.

But then, the next time you head to the bar, you’re greeted by a smiling face that understands the meaning of “hospitality”. And that as cool as it might be to pour little-known wines, mix clever cocktails, and stand behind assured desserts such as luscious flans with a bitter caramel ($15), the measure of a pub isn’t (just) the drinks and food that it serves, but how it serves its guests.

Besk, like any hospitality operation, isn’t infallible. But over the past five years, I’ve had more good nights here than bad ones. And in the context of the current hospitality climate, the venue is tracking nicely. As it has from the start, team Besk works hard to build a sense of community. Not just in terms of guests but also as far as the producers and organisations that Besk supports. Yes, the venue may occasionally be hard to get into, but the party is one that everyone is invited to.