Looking back after many months our earlier long Sunday lunch at Pilot restaurant in late February now seems to be part of another world. I suppose it’s much like many other local places across Australia – once regular haunts of diners seeking a good night, or day, out, suddenly stranded by circumstance. It was a time when a relatively obscure regional city in China – Wuhan – was bettter known as a UNESCO Creative City of Design, than the source of a global pandemic.
‘Looking back after many months our earlier long Sunday lunch at Pilot restaurant in late February now seems to be part of another world. I suppose it’s much like many other local places across Australia – once regular haunts of diners seeking a good night, or day, out, suddenly stranded by circumstance.’
Fish curry in aromatic broth.
How quickly this all happened was brought home when I realised that I had two unfinished articles for this blog – one about the long Sunday lunch just before we went away on a two and a half week regional road tour to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island in March and one about the takeover of the dining world by takeaways, as restaurants scrambled to convert their operations in order to survive.
A long Sunday lunch at the local before the world closed
We’d been to the restaurant for dinner quite a few times, including often through some of its earlier incarnations, but we’d not tried out the Sunday lunches. It was long overdue, so we headed there in late February for a combination birthday or two. It was a special occasion in more ways than one because that evening we were booked to see Kevin McCloud of Grand Designs fame at the Canberra Theatre Centre. Grand food and grand architecture – what more could you ask for as a birthday present? We started with roast carrot with z’atar and sesame seeds and followed that with beef tartare with a sourdough blini. Then we moved on to what was described as Barry’s sourdough bread with smoked butter followed by a special treat – cabbage e pepe, buckwheat pasta with cabbage, one of Pilot’s signature dishes, which we’d enjoyed before.
‘It was a special occasion in more ways than one because, that evening we were booked to see Kevin McCloud of Grand Designs fame at the Canberra Theatre Centre. Grand food and grand architecture – what more could you ask for as a birthday present?’
The next stage of the meal was a fish curry – with a wonderfully flavoured broth that started with roasted fish frames and featured ginger, galangal, green peppercorns, fish sauce, coconut milk, charred pumpkin and chive oil. As a perfect contrast, we then had ‘roast chook’ – a breast (and leg) from a cold smoked chicken which had its cavity filled with Bay leaves and lemon, with a mushroom and leek duxelle stuffed under the skin. It was sitting in a rich savoury broth featuring lots of butter. This came with what was described as a ‘zippy’ lettuce salad. We finished with a dessert of crushed pistachio and green tea ricecream. Trying to recreate that lunch after all this time, the wines we drank are a bit of a blur, but they were interesting and varied – and one of the things I really like about the restaurant is that you can try a wine before settling on it.
Driving through an approaching storm
Two weeks later we were on the road to Adelaide, driving South and West through regional Victoria, to catch up with nieces and nephews we hadn’t seen. Little did we know that an approaching storm was building around us.
‘We returned to a world locked down, wondering if we would even be able to buy food in the supermarkets. Along the way there had been huge gaps in supermarket shelves, from Wangaratta to Kangaroo Island. Toilet paper in particular had gone missing, obviously kidnapped by aliens. One commentator was even driven to ask if what we were experiencing was not a coronavirus, but a moronavirus.’
We returned to a world locked down, wondering if we would even be able to buy food in the supermarkets. Along the way there had been huge gaps in supermarket shelves, from Wangaratta to Kangaroo Island. Toilet paper in particular had gone missing, obviously kidnapped by aliens. One commentator was even driven to ask if what we were experiencing was not a coronavirus, but a moronavirus.
Captive in the Canberra bubble
Safely captive in the Canberra bubble, we started to work out what to do, now going out was becoming the exception rather than the rule. The Easter holidays were fast approaching and due to the lockdown, no-one could go away. For years I'd been saying about Easter that it was a great time to go away – but it was also a great time to stay home. We’d stayed home at Easter many times – but always by choice. A form of virtual house arrest was a new experience for us.
We started to settle into this new way of living. We'd been to Pilot many times and it had always been exceptional. Suddenly, in the instant shutdown world we were all sharing, like many other restaurants, they had to turn to takeaway to survive. I'm not much of a takeaway person, but I am someone who values the small local businesses which make everyday life worthwhile. Once the lockdown hit I was hanging out to visit Pilot again, but until then, I realised I would have to be satisfied with months of top takeaways.
A weak spot for pies
Our first takeway from Pilot was excellent. A starter of potato scallops with a terrific dip, then pork and fennel ragu and charred yoghurt chicken with spinach curry. All delivered to the door for $5. The next time around we had braised beef with sauerkraut and pickles and the fish and bug pie. We had to have the side of potato scallops again. I have a weak spot for pies, but all too often they are disappointingly served in a bowl with no more than a pastry lid on top. Not this time – the fish pie was totally encased in pastry, just the way it should be. I was coming to like it, it was becoming a habit. It was not enough to sustain us through a long pandemic, but enough to keep us hopeful.
‘I have a weak spot for pies, but all too often they are disappointingly served in a bowl with no more than a pastry lid on top. Not this time – the fish pie was totally encased in pastry, just the way it should be. I was coming to like it, it was becoming a habit. It was not enough to sustain us through a long pandemic, but enough to keep us hopeful.’
For something different we also tried the dinner pack. This was slow-roasted beetroot, sitting in a house-made soy milk sauce, with tarragon oil poured over the top. This was followed by a barbecued pork neck from Griffith Butcher, seasoned with garlic and thyme, with a miso and white onion sauce and sauteed kale with paprika. On the side was parsnips and carrots in a bitter honey glaze, with crème fraiche and salty granola. To top it off there was a caesar salad of cos lettuce with anchovy mayonnaise, croutons and parmesan. The final touch consisted of a supporting role for other local producers, with dessert from ice-cream maker Frugii Dessert Laboratory. To complete the experience, you could even listen to the restaurant playlist on Spotify.
Up against the wall
Then, as the pandemic subsided in Canberra and businesses started to return to something more like it had been before – at least for now – Pilot finally reopened and we could find our way back to its tables. We arrived and we took our seat, conveniently against a wall where we could practice our social distancing skills with ease.
We began with a small cup of clear tea – roasted oolong, green tea, puffed rice, dandelion root, chicory root, wattle seed, saltbush, cinnamon and liquorice root. What we really wanted, though, was a glass of wine, so we ordered a Mada Riesling from the neighbouring region for me and for my fellow traveller a sparkling Pinot Noir and Chardonnay blend, the Daosa Natural Reserve Sparkling Non Vintage from the Adelaide Hills.
The new normal
In the new normal, restaurants are offering only fixed price degustation menus and the one we were here for was a seven course menu. Once we had imbided enough liquids of various kinds, we moved onto cauliflower custard with truffles, roasted rice, chestnuts and compressed apple. Following this my fellow traveller had ox tongue with pastrami spices, while I settled for celeriac with sumac, the citrus-flavoured spice of the Middle East.
‘We arrived and we took our seat, conveniently against a wall where we could practice our social distancing skills with ease. We began with a small cup of clear tea – roasted oolong, green tea, puffed rice, dandelion root, chicory root, wattle seed, saltbush, cinnamon and liquorice root. What we really wanted, though, was a glass of wine.’
This was followed by a couple of inventive dishes – a duck confit donut and chicken meatballs with kombu and ginger sourdough broth with smoked pork fat. Both were very impressive dishes. Then we had roast duck breast with charred beetroot and pickles, followed by bonito with charred cabbage and then Massaman curry of oxtail, parsnips, dehydrated carrots, curry leaves and peanuts. I ordered a glass of the Sigurd 2018 from the Barossa Valley, a blend of Grenache, Syrah, Cardigan and Mouvedre. In fact I liked this punchy wine so much, I went on the have a second glass. My fellow traveller settled with a glass of Dormilona 2019, a Chardonnay from Margaret River.
A reminder of places we couldn’t go
Dessert was a small introductory taste of lemon curd marshmallow with both freeze dried and fresh mandarin, followed by the restaurant version of apple crumble with macadamia nut praline. The end of the evening was approaching but I thought as a reminder of favourite places we couldn’t go for the moment, I’d have a glass of the Pennyweight Muscat from Beechworth.
Lemon curd marshmallow with mandarin - freeze dried and fresh.
At the end we were commenting on the choice of unusual wines from small makers and we mentioned Bellwether Wines. This is the small winery established in Penola in an old shearing shed by wine-maker Sue Bell, which specialises in small vintages from small growers. We’d stopped in Penola on the way back from Kangaroo Island, as the state was closing down. We had an enjoyable – if somewhat physically spread out – dinner in Pipers of Penola, a restaurant we’d always wanted to try, but the highlight was Bellwether. It seemed to be a winery in keeping with the spirit of Pilot.
An end to online ordering and driveway delivery – for now?
I really enjoyed my return to Pilot – it’s a restaurant I appreciate every time I visit. The extra spacing, along with the sound baffles that were installed a while back, have all made the restaurant much more pleasant and fun. I’m not sure about the way Pilot enthusiastically follows the minimal style of so many contemporary restaurants, describing dishes as no more than a list of ingredients. I first encountered this many years ago at legendary Biota restaurant in Bowral – sadly now closed due to COVID-19 – and I’ve never warmed to it. It seems to imply that the food is about nothing but the produce, whereas it’s really a coming together of produce and technique, unified by culinary design.
‘I’m making the most of the return of Pilot from the virtual world of takeaway – online ordering and driveway delivery – at least as long as we aren’t forced back into lockdown by the sloppy behaviour of a noisy few. It’s not often you find a fine dining restaurant with the style and charm of this place in the local shopping centre down the road. I’m enjoying it while I can.’
I can also see that with the fallout of the pandemic, the way of the future may be degustation menus. Unfortunately while they can be an effective way to try a wide range of dishes, they have a few shortcomings. The main one is that each dishes succeeds the previous one, so you don’t have the opportunity to savour complementary dishes, side by side. Often such complementary dishes provide a wider range of accompanying vegetables.
These small matters aside, I’m making the most of the return of Pilot from the virtual world of takeaway – online ordering and driveway delivery – at least as long as we aren’t forced back into lockdown by the sloppy behaviour of a noisy few. It’s not often you find a fine dining restaurant with the style and charm of this place in the local shopping centre down the road. I’m enjoying it while I can.
See also
‘tableland’ on Facebook – life on the land and at the table
‘Life on the land and at the table, the companion Facebook site to this blog, for brief and topical snippets and vignettes about land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko’, 'tableland' on Facebook.
‘tableland’ on Facebook – life on the land and at the table
‘Life on the land and at the table, the companion Facebook site to this blog, for brief and topical snippets and vignettes about land to table – the daily routine of living in the high country, on the edge of the vast Pacific, just up from Sydney, just down from Mount Kosciuszko’, 'tableland' on Facebook.
Food and culture in the neighbourhood – culinary love letter from the South Pacific
‘Our near neighbours in the vast Pacific are often overlooked by Australia in its slavish focus on America, Britain and Europe. Yet this is our own backyard. The lack of knowledge has ranged across many aspects of the culture and history of the Pacific, including its culinary traditions. Yet, behind the scenes over more than a decade, a culinary revolution has been underway. This is the story of New Zealand chef, Robert Oliver, his fascination with the traditional food of the Pacific Islands, and an internationally award-winning cookbook, described as a ‘culinary love letter from a smattering of islands in the South Pacific’, which has developed a life of its own’, Food and culture in the neighbourhood – culinary love letter from the South Pacific.
‘Our near neighbours in the vast Pacific are often overlooked by Australia in its slavish focus on America, Britain and Europe. Yet this is our own backyard. The lack of knowledge has ranged across many aspects of the culture and history of the Pacific, including its culinary traditions. Yet, behind the scenes over more than a decade, a culinary revolution has been underway. This is the story of New Zealand chef, Robert Oliver, his fascination with the traditional food of the Pacific Islands, and an internationally award-winning cookbook, described as a ‘culinary love letter from a smattering of islands in the South Pacific’, which has developed a life of its own’, Food and culture in the neighbourhood – culinary love letter from the South Pacific.
The Asian food century begins in Sydney
‘Almost ten years
ago much fuss was made of the rapidly looming Asian Century, full of
challenge and promise. I was working in the Department of Prime Minister
and Cabinet at the time as Director of the National Cultural Policy
Task Force. The discussion White Paper on Australia in the Asian Century
being developed at the same time seemed part of a similar big picture
approach to Australia's future. Today it seems even more relevant than
in those times of more strategic governments. In Sydney you get a much
sharper sense of the Asian Century – and its culinary reflection, the
Asian food century’, The Asian food century begins in Sydney.
‘The Easter holiday was fast approaching and due to the pandemic lockdown, no-one could go away. For years I'd been saying about Easter that it's a great time to go away, but it's also a great time to stay home. What better way to enjoy it than by marking a return to a habit from decades past – making my own pasta’, Flour and eggs and happiness.
Unexpected surprises in unusual places – Bar Rochford ticks many boxes
‘One of the pleasures of living in a city is the unexpected surprises in unusual places. Tucked up at the top of a stairway in the Melbourne Building in the heart of Canberra is a terrific bar that ticks many boxes. Whenever I go to Bar Rochford I feel happy. It has interesting wine and thoughtful food, so I’ve been there quite a few times – and I’m likely to go many more times’, Unexpected surprises in unusual places – Bar Rochford ticks many boxes.
Better and better – a cold night in at Pulp Kitchen
‘After a regional road tour through Victoria to Adelaide and back – packed with produce of every kind – the best recipe for happiness at home was a quiet spot in the corner at local restaurant Pulp Kitchen, enjoying a very different meal in a very different restaurant, after almost two weeks of very good – and sometimes exceptional – food and drink’, Better and better – a cold night in at Pulp Kitchen.
Dispatches from the Royal Mail – Wickens restaurant delivers the goods
‘I’ve always been interested in the Royal Mail Hotel in Dunkeld, at the southern tip of the Grampians, and its varied offerings. It’s been one of Australia’s best regional restaurants for many years and I am particularly attracted by regional restaurants. I took advantage of a regional road tour through Victoria to Adelaide to update my first visit from several years before. In every respect the experience was worthwhile. The attention to detail and focused application was apparent, from the signature restaurant to the wider range of services it provides’, Dispatches from the Royal Mail – Wickens restaurant delivers the goods.Travelling overseas in your own country – Austrian winter lunches in the high country
‘The pay off for cold Canberra mornings is that with no cloud during the night the days are clear and blue and brilliant. That’s when Canberra comes into its own. That’s the time to enjoy a long luxurious lunch with friends. The ACT is so tiny that is doesn’t take long before you have to cross the border in your quest for food and drink and spectacular landscapes. These outings are the slices of life in between the restaurants and bars where you go out in public. This is where the farmers markets and the home-grown produce and the local vintages come together in the privacy of your own home. With moments like this, even winter starts to look attractive’, Travelling overseas in your own country – Austrian winter lunches in the high country.
Eating out in the cold country – Grazing at Gundaroo
‘In winter your mind turns to food - well, it turns there anytime, but perhaps more so in winter. I can’t remember how many years I have been coming to Grazing restaurant, in the tiny historic town of Gundaroo, just outside Canberra – it seems like forever. In the time I’ve been coming here Prime Ministers have risen and fallen, Governments have teetered, illusions have shattered. On a Sunday recently, I ventured out from the cold of approaching winter on a clear, blue day and went there one more time for food, wine and firewood. I wasn’t disappointed’, Eating out in the cold country – Grazing at Gundaroo.
Mezzalira Ristorante – the Italian empire strikes back
‘I seem to spend a lot of time in the small Italian and Sons restaurant in hipster heaven in downtown Braddon, with its equally small bar annexe, Bacaro, at the rear. It’s so good and so pleasant that it’s easy to forget the other parts of the Italian empire. The flagship restaurant, Mezzalira, is across the the city, near the National University. It’s in the fabulous but somewhat neglected though stately Melbourne Building, with its Italianate arches and colonnades. I sometimes think that if suddenly the world was about to end (a bit like contemporary times) and I was offered the choice of only one cuisine until the crunch, I’d have to choose Italian. That way I could die happy,’ Mezzalira Ristorante – the Italian empire strikes back.
Ester – the sweet smell of success
‘Because the high country is adjacent to the low country, it takes only three hours to drive from the nation’s capital to the nation’s financial capital. In the early to mid 1990s Chippendale in Sydney was a suburb you travelled through to get somewhere else. All that is changing in a big way, with plenty there to explore. A sure sign of these times is eatery Ester, a restaurant that reflects the focus of its name on the science of food with some intrepid experiments in the culinary arts’, Ester – the sweet smell of success.
In a corner with a cake (or two) – the hidden attraction of local hangouts
‘Tucked away in a corner at the Ainslie shops where it’s easy to miss entirely – in the heart of the suburb know as the Red Centre for it’s exceptionally high Labor vote – is an unexpected delight. The location has hosted a series of less than successful ventures but this most recent has been an unqualified success. Who would have thought that a cafe hailing from Brittany could attract such a crowd. The secret of success is that it focuses on what it does and it does it well. You can park yourself inside the small venue or outside if the weather is fine and pick from some unexpected sweet pastries, throw down the odd glass of French wine or eat buckwheat pancakes or baguettes. The cafe also runs to daily specials that can be very unexpected. Long may it reign over us – Rule Brittany rather than Rule Britannia’, In a corner with a cake (or two) – the hidden attraction of local hangouts.
We all scream for icecream – cooling down in a cold climate with Frugii
‘I realise I may have just become a statistic. I have a suspicion that I have eaten more sorbet, gelato and icecream since local Canberra icecream outlet Frugii opened in Canberra’s Braddon perimeter than I have eaten in my whole previous life. Tucked away in hipster heaven, it keeps churning out flavours, in an ever changing smorgasbord of coldness’, We all scream for icecream – cooling down in a cold climate with Frugii.
A bustling Friday night in hipster heaven
‘On
a bustling Friday night in hipster heaven, I popped into my favourite
Canberra restaurant, Italian and Sons, planning for little more than a
quick bite to eat. I managed to get my favourite spot – when I’m not
settled comfortably in Bacaro, the adjoining bar out the back, that is –
sitting in the window, watching the action on the street. I headed
straight for a real blast from my Adelaide past, part of my earliest
discovery of Italian cuisine – saltimbocca. Then I beat a path down
Lonsdale Street to Frugii, Canberra’s own dessert laboratory. What is
happening to this city? It’s getting cooler by the minute and it’s not
just the icecream or the approach of winter’, A bustling Friday night in hipster heaven.
Vitello Tonnato for a life well lived in hipster heaven
‘It had been quite a week and I had been crushed by too many encounters with the crazy world of Centrelink as I fulfilled my long list of aged care responsibilities. I needed cheering up so last night ate out at the venerable Italian and Sons, the very first of the many funky venues which now enliven Braddon. My attention was drawn to the rare appearance of vitello tonnato. My imagination had been captured decades ago when I was a young boy by seeing the recipe for the dish in Margaret Fulton’s classic cookbook. I finally tried it in a tiny restaurant in Florence, during my first visit overseas, after a stint at the massive Frankfurt Book Fair in 1989. This most recent one was the best I have ever eaten outside my own home – well, perhaps the best anywhere. This is a favourite place, probably my most favourite in Canberra. Coming here always makes me feel happy and what more can you ask?’, Vitello Tonnato for a life well lived in hipster heaven.
Eating out in a cold, funky city – Canberra comes of age in the Asian Century
‘On a day and night which was bitterly cold – as cold as Canberra has been this year, with the hint of snow clouds overhead – I was reminded why I live here. As we wandered along after a full day of cultural institutions and design events, looking for somewhere to eat we impetuously popped into Restaurant Eightysix and even more impetuously were able to get a table. I had forgotten reading somewhere that famed long-former Adelaide chef, Christine Manfield was here for the month, cooking up an Asian-inspired menu. How much better could it get?’, Eating out in a cold, funky city – Canberra comes of age in the Asian Century.
Provenance - knowing where good things come from
‘It took me only five years but I finally found my way to Provenance, the legendary regional restaurant established by chef Michael Ryan in Beechworth in 2010. Provenance is widely considered one of the best restaurants in regional Victoria, in a tiny state that contains many good regional restaurants. I had been meaning to eat there since it was established and given how regularly we travel to Beechworth and its surrounds I was amazed I hadn’t been earlier. It took some time but it was worth it’, Provenance - knowing where good things come from
In praise of the Berra
‘When I first moved to Canberra, almost as an accidental intersection of geography and employment after the Sydney Olympics, I used to say “if you had lived in Sydney and one day you woke up and discovered you were in Canberra, you would think you had died.” Then I changed my mind. It took ten years but it was inevitable. Berrans are a hardy bunch – they can withstand the hot winds of summer and of Australia’s Parliament, the chill flurries from the Snowy Mountains and the chilling news of budget cuts. The Berra is half-way between everywhere’, In praise of the Berra.
Vitello Tonnato for a life well lived in hipster heaven
‘It had been quite a week and I had been crushed by too many encounters with the crazy world of Centrelink as I fulfilled my long list of aged care responsibilities. I needed cheering up so last night ate out at the venerable Italian and Sons, the very first of the many funky venues which now enliven Braddon. My attention was drawn to the rare appearance of vitello tonnato. My imagination had been captured decades ago when I was a young boy by seeing the recipe for the dish in Margaret Fulton’s classic cookbook. I finally tried it in a tiny restaurant in Florence, during my first visit overseas, after a stint at the massive Frankfurt Book Fair in 1989. This most recent one was the best I have ever eaten outside my own home – well, perhaps the best anywhere. This is a favourite place, probably my most favourite in Canberra. Coming here always makes me feel happy and what more can you ask?’, Vitello Tonnato for a life well lived in hipster heaven.
Eating out in a cold, funky city – Canberra comes of age in the Asian Century
‘On a day and night which was bitterly cold – as cold as Canberra has been this year, with the hint of snow clouds overhead – I was reminded why I live here. As we wandered along after a full day of cultural institutions and design events, looking for somewhere to eat we impetuously popped into Restaurant Eightysix and even more impetuously were able to get a table. I had forgotten reading somewhere that famed long-former Adelaide chef, Christine Manfield was here for the month, cooking up an Asian-inspired menu. How much better could it get?’, Eating out in a cold, funky city – Canberra comes of age in the Asian Century.
Provenance - knowing where good things come from
‘It took me only five years but I finally found my way to Provenance, the legendary regional restaurant established by chef Michael Ryan in Beechworth in 2010. Provenance is widely considered one of the best restaurants in regional Victoria, in a tiny state that contains many good regional restaurants. I had been meaning to eat there since it was established and given how regularly we travel to Beechworth and its surrounds I was amazed I hadn’t been earlier. It took some time but it was worth it’, Provenance - knowing where good things come from
In praise of the Berra
‘When I first moved to Canberra, almost as an accidental intersection of geography and employment after the Sydney Olympics, I used to say “if you had lived in Sydney and one day you woke up and discovered you were in Canberra, you would think you had died.” Then I changed my mind. It took ten years but it was inevitable. Berrans are a hardy bunch – they can withstand the hot winds of summer and of Australia’s Parliament, the chill flurries from the Snowy Mountains and the chilling news of budget cuts. The Berra is half-way between everywhere’, In praise of the Berra.
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