Review: Botanical Bar+Kitchen, New Farm, Brisbane

The food is overpriced and the service so clueless it beggars belief. Brisbane’s Botanical Bar+Kitchen is a fake restaurant.

Botanical Bar+Kitchen. Picture: Jeff Camden

Question. Is it cruel, or even patronising, to ask a demonstrably clueless waiter what the cheeses on the “cheese board” are? I debated it… and asked anyway. I mean, it’s on the menu: “Cheese board – soft/hard/smelly”.

It took a while to get the question in because, as was the case for most of my lost two hours at Botanical Bar+Kitchen, the waiter – any waiter – was difficult to find.

Anyway, the eventual answer was “Camembert, a blue cheese and washed rind”. Mmm. The actual cheeses, I asked, the producers? Are we talking Aldi Emporium Selection or Berthaut Epoisses? (I didn’t say that, just thought it.)

“I don’t know, sorry.”

So I sat there with bits of fish, bones, pesto, nuts, napkins and other detritus on the table, where it had been since the main course finished 20 minutes earlier, and ordered a pot of ginger tea, which was made with a bag.

BB+K is, in concept, the restaurant annexe of a flash pub; a place where food and wine aspirations over and above next door’s pub grub are realised. The floor is terrazzo, the room-length banquette of diamond-stitched turquoise leather and the blond timber tables, pleasing. In execution, however, it’s an overpriced pub meal with service that could only be described as such in the very broadest sense.

Spatchcocked quail wrapped in prosciutto. Picture: Jeff Camden

An example – beyond that unwiped table – speaks to the wider malaise: after we arrive and stand inside the front door for a while looking at two waiters talking to each other at the far end of the room, one finally wanders up to see what we want. She points to a table and walks back to the bar to resume the chat. Unbelievable. Naturally, the first thing she says when she actually comes to our table is not “hello” or “welcome to Botanical”. You guessed it: “Still or sparkling?”

It’s a fake restaurant. Only a fake restaurant would serve what looks and feels exactly like the dry end of yesterday’s bread with soft pats of name-brand foil-wrapped butter, lipstick for the pig. Or leave new arrivals standing awkwardly at the bar wanting a table while a phone call is taken. Hell, we felt awkward.

What was I doing here anyway? A Brisbane snout had furnished a list of local places worth checking out, some of which I’d tried before; his list had cred. Maaate.

I look at the wine list. The Four in Hand Shiraz (no vintage declared) is $58. Coincidentally, just before lunch I had received an email from Oatley Wines offering club members (of which I am one) this very wine (2014 vintage) for $14. Including GST. Draw your own conclusions.

The “Grilled ocean kings” (prawns, dumbo) are mysteriously tepid (it’s not like there were many customers), haphazardly peeled and powdery. An unappetising dark liquid ran from the critters’ heads onto the plate when severed.

A spatchcocked quail wrapped in prosciutto and roasted (pictured) is better; the soggy pear tarte tatin with vincotto is not. Whole snapper baked with a pesto crust is fine; it’s also $46.90. Some grilled asparagus on the side is gussied up with a “63 degree egg”; let’s call it what it is – a soft poached egg – shall we? “Shaved brussels” (I hate this menu now) is a salad of chopped Brussels sprouts, radicchio and lettuce. It apparently contains “organcic [sic] broccoli seeds / pickled mustard seeds / elderflowers” too.

The mineral water – being a pub – is a Coca-Cola Amatil product. At least I wasn’t charged for the teabag.

Address: 64 James St, New Farm, Brisbane | Contact [phone] qahotel.com/botanical | Hours: Lunch, dinner daily | Typical prices: Starters $18; mains $37; dessert $15 | Summary: A waste of two hours