Bistro Dom

Have no reservations. Make one.

Doubting Thomas that I am, I had my reservations about Bistro Dom. There had been too much hype, too much press, too many cool young things telling me you have to go there.  Hipsters were behind it all, I suspected, or perhaps pretentious self-styled foodies looking for opportunities to plagiarise the reviews in their conversations around the executive watercooler.

The first impressions did not do much to allay my fears; a young staff member with something of a disinterested air showed us to our little table in the dimly-lit corridor space with walls adorned with esoteric art-for-sale. Trendies, I inwardly groaned, recognising the signs. Not even the menu grabbed me on first inspection. Although I knew that the menu changed frequently, supposedly depending on the availability of seasonal ingredients, I was disappointed that none of the dishes on the website's sample menu that I'd been keen to try were offered on this particular evening.  Further, we were seated and our orders taken without any advice or explanations, which led me to expect the kind of brusque service that seems to be currently in vogue. So it was with muted enthusiasm that I ordered the Cured kingfish, roasted shallot and fermented kohlrabi for entree and Chamomile salt crust baked lamb with beetroot and soft curd for main course.

If I believed that The Universe was a sentient being concerned with teaching me important life lessons, I'd suggest that it was deliberately playing discordant notes in order to juxtapose the perfect harmony of the experience to come.

The arrival of our evening's waitress signaled the change in tone; she was knowledgeable without being condescending, friendly without being inappropriately familiar, and she was concerned and apologetic about the service oversights at our arrival.  Given that the professionalism of the staff for the rest of the evening was immaculate, I believe that we'd earlier experienced an uncharacteristic glitch in the process, one that was not to be repeated.

But it was the first taste of our entrees that snuffed out any lingering doubts.  My Cured Kingfish was tender and beautifully mild in flavour, and its accompaniments, the thoroughly unappealing-sounding fermented kohlrabi (which was surprisingly mellow and unacidic), the roasted shallot, and an inconspicuous curl of white flesh, which turned out to be a sliver of cured pork fat and one of the most delicious things I've ever put in my mouth ("What WAS that", quoth I), complemented it perfectly.  My husband's Braised pig's trotter, abalone roe risotto and master stock poached abalone, while the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of style, was equally delicious, and was impressive, not only in flavour and texture, but in the inspired drawing together of seemingly disparate ingredients.

Main course delivered what the entrees had promised. One often hyperbolically talks about meat that "falls apart", but in this instance it was literal truth, and the beetroot and curd, while perhaps more classic companions that other combinations on the menu, were nonetheless inventive in their execution.  Dom's version of the ubiquitous pork belly (served with house made boudin noir, pain d'epices and apple) stood up to its competition, was a generous serving, and was meltingly tender and delicious.  The descriptions of the dishes on the menu truly do not do them justice, as both entrees and mains were accompanied by surprise finishing touches and additional flavours that belied the impression of simplicity, and tied each dish together expertly.

Because my husband had made the decadent choice to order two pork dishes, we decided to share a dessert and ordered the Souffle.  Fortuitously, something went awry in the kitchen (oh how it joys the home-cook to know that even the experts suffer from the occasional collapsed souffle!) and to apologise for the delay (which, truth be told, was welcome, particularly by my pork-stuffed companion), we were presented with the bistro's signature petit dessert, the Chocolate Egg with Salted Caramel. A concoction of chocolate, hazelnut, caramel and popping candy would seem to defy being considered sophisticated, yet somehow this delicate eggshell filled with what can only be described as Oh My God, manages to pull it off.  The souffle, when it arrived, was likewise magnificent, cloud-soft, moist, and served with a tiny pitcher of creme anglaise to pour into a burrowed well in the centre, and finished with a side of hazelnut icecream. If I had to put a label on my emotional response, the closest thing would be gratitude.

And all this was topped off by the most pleasing experience of reverse bill-shock that we've encountered in a while - $180 for the three course meal for two (admittedly, with shared dessert, but also including complimentary bread and an amuse bouche) and a bottle of wine. For such quality food and in such a popular restaurant, I think this represents exceptionally good value.

Bistro Dom has become, for me, the new yardstick against which to judge the fashionable inner-city restaurants, no mean feat considering the quality of its competition and the weight of expectation that its status as Adelaide's it restaurant confers.