Hospitality: A New Breed of Food Reviewers

Photo by vmiramontes

To avoid criticism say nothing, do nothing, be nothing. Aristotle

What’s Eating People?

Have you noticed that everyone has an opinion on food - Informed or otherwise? Food opinion is everywhere, which is particularly pertinent as hospitality businesses have typically thrived on word of mouth. 

For venues, opinion via reviews was once vaguely manageable. There was a time when certain restaurants flexed their right to refuse to serve newspaper food reviewers. 

A Sydney a venue went as far as to sue a publication over a scathing review by Matthew Evans said to have ruined their business - a case that was in the courts for nine years. Such was the influence of the traditional food press.

But the status quo has changed. In today's world, opinion is not black and white and in hospitality - no matter what the facts - the customer's personal experience underscores whatever they express online about a venue.

Understandably, publications now run shy of potentially litigious opinion pieces. Readers don’t necessarily trust editorial content any more, citing hidden agenda’s warped by the need to draw advertisers. The trend is reflected by newspaper and magazine sales that have been in freefall against online news, resulting in the number of printed pages devoted to the hospitality industry diminishing. 

The public has turned to a new breed of reviewer - the online reviewer - and while some may be the darlings of the public, they too are beginning to be loathed by some F&B operators. 

This angst is the flow on effect of society being in the reality show era, a time of ‘warts and all’ citizen journalism, where everyone has an opinion and can publish it online without checking their facts or even revealing who they actually are.

Sure, not everyone takes this stuff seriously, but a few voices speak louder than others which is why they are considered online influencers.

Who’s making the most noise?

The people identified as online F&B influencers interact regularly with local diners. Not all come with the gravitas of knowing what they’re talking about when it comes to cooking or service but they are trusted for being someone their readers can identify with.

Some of them blog about food or review venues, some mostly tweet food. Amongst these are freelance journalists, other professional writers, culinary professionals, photographers and enthusiastic amateurs. 

Slipping under the radar are those who are simply known as ‘the go-to person for food’ by their friends on Facebook, Pinterest or Tumblr. Or they may simply post photos of every meal they have on Instagram.

In a category of their own are the self-promoters - those that come with a chain of linked social media accounts for wider bandwidth of communications. Often these opinion makers participate in PR or Marketing sponsored events, using their social tentacles to flood online communities with duplicate posts. This activity has been seen lately to erode their gravitas, which may be perceived as more of a curse than a blessing for venues.

In that mix are those that post reviews of a single meal at a venue, which is then linked to a review aggregation network, to Google+ Local or a street publication such as Gram. 

Younger food writers have been contributing to Australian online journal subscription sites such as Agenda, The Thousands and Broadsheet. These publications have been criticized for being the first over the threshold rather than posting in detail once a hospitality venue has hit their stride. But they specifically attract a certain type of clientele, the one that will queue to be at the ‘hot new place’.

And let’s not forget that now Joe Average - who doesn’t consider themselves a critic - can post a few sentences on a local geospatial review website and app such as UrbanSpoon, Yelp, FourSquare or YourRestaurants, plus global travel sites like TripAdvisor, or even as their Facebook status.

Like it or not, it’s now part of our culture. When the public want a food recommendation, they go online for suggestions first. Today Google can be the friend you turn to for a dining suggestion.

Staring it down

You can’t prevent people from talking about your venue. So how do you address all these online opinions?

As I mentioned in my last post, this falls into the category of reputation management. It is critical for businesses where there is heavy competition so time should be allocated regularly to see what is being said.

It can be as easy as doing a search for your business online. Don't forget to also search Google Images. What you find may surprise you. You may also see what your staff are saying about you. At the very least, consider it as a gauge of how you are publicly perceived.

If there is a common thread to the criticisms or compliments, use that to further shape your business. It's possible that you may become more aware of the demographic and nature of your core customer, which should assist in determining your prices and service offering. 

Consider also that it may help to define your creative parameters. This could result in your generating a unique offering or finding a new niche where you have less competition.

When mentioned in social media communities, the correct etiquette is to acknowledge and thank the customer that has mentioned you. Should you not have social accounts with which to do this, consider linking to their review or comment on your venue’s website. This may start a long term relationship with your online advocate that could assist in building loyalty and further word of mouth benefits.

Dealing with an unflattering review

When you see something that you feel is inflammatory my best advice is to take a deep breath, and look away for a moment. In this time you can briefly pause to see if your fans respond and speak out on your behalf. Often this will happen.

By no means impersonate a customer with a retaliatory or an anonymous hyper-positive comment, nor should you vent in rage anywhere online. A chef, FOH or proprietor tirade is a stain on the business' reputation that is difficult to erase. 

Remember it’s the current nature of society that an embarrassing episode will spread virally faster than civil exchanges, so keep your crisis contained.

In many online instances you have the right of reply via a comments section, a business owner response, a contact form or an email address. If it is a clear case of bullying or trolling by a competitor most of the popular review sites will remove the offensive item on request.

Best practice for a bad issue is to privately take it up with the reviewer, site or publication and ask for constructive criticism and guidance on how to make their experience better, regardless of whether you disagree with their point of view. The fact that you acknowledge their opinion will be appreciated.

These steps are basic customer service translated for the internet. The game plan has changed significantly since Matthew Evans was a reviewer, but it represents new opportunities for hospitality businesses. Working with customer reviews can demonstrate that you are open to using feedback to nurture your business and it has the potential to turn the reviewer and their friends into long term advocates. 

So when it comes to opinion, be hospitable. That after all that is the name of the game.

A version of this piece first appeared in Espresso Italiano magazine and online for Lavazza. More social media advice from me can be unlocked by Lavazza customers on that website. In the current issue, I talk about Yelp for the hospitality industry.

F&B Social Media. The Art of Being Social

Photo by HomelessHub

It takes 20 years to build a reputation and five minutes to ruin it. 

If you think about that, you'll do things differently. Warren Buffett

What is Social Media for the hospitality industry?

What have you heard about Social Media Marketing for restaurants? Was it, “It’s free but it’s all too hard”? They could be right, but the first thing to consider before discussing this topic is ‘What actually brings new customers through the door?’ 

If a venue has a good reputation, you don’t need to advertise it, right? Your customers come via recommendation from their friends, or after reading a positive review. That's what most assume.

Australians are skeptical of cafes or restaurants that advertise. Only 14% trust ads, but most will trust and respond to a recommendation from within their personal network. So the solution for growing your market share is to tap into opinion.

Social media marketing is the new word of mouth recommendation, amplified much further than ever before.

But if your venue is not particularly hospitable, it’s not clean and not passionately run - well, social media is just not your friend. And that’s because online opinions are like applying a magnifying glass to your operations and accountability, then spreading that to a huge audience.

So for the Hospitality Industry, Social Media is a tool for reputation management.

What to consider before using Social Media

Once you start using social networks, there is no turning back. You will need to allocate some time to read and sometimes to talk online, and for some that’s most days that your venue is open. With reputation as a key factor to your success, finding the time should be a priority.

If you choose to do it, then use social networks as a point of customer service, for inspiration and to share your enthusiasm. For venues, it is not a place to brag about how much you spent on the place, bitch, shout or even broadcast like it’s an advertisement. It’s networking in a community space, so be friendly and polite.

Consider if and how your staff use social networks? Remind them of their responsibility to the venue’s reputation in their personal interactions online. This includes the etiquette of making online comments about their employer or colleagues, not publishing confidential information or images and how they can help with customer service.

Where to begin?

Social media networks range from review sites to photo apps on smart phones, blogs and online scrapbooks. And of course about 50% of Australians stay in touch via Facebook. Most of it can be updated easily from a smart phone, so won‘t tie you to a desk.

Start by looking at the online review sites to take the pulse of your business. Act on suggestions made by public reviewers.

Consider what is the best and strongest feature of your venue? If your place was a person, what would that person sound like? What would they like to talk about? This will help you find the right social platform for you and assist in choosing the things your guests will enjoy reading about from you online.

Then decide who will be involved from your team. Behind the scenes photos are very popular and help the public develop a more interested and understanding relationship with the business. Snippets of news from certain staff can also spread the social work load.

Use platforms that link to each other that can help to economise on time spent online. For example, some platforms like Instagram and Pinterest will allow you to post a photo to other social networks at the same time. 

Hootsuite will allow you and your team to share updates to a few other social media platform accounts as well as schedule posts into the future. And you can use your phone to push notifications to you if an enquiry has been made via Facebook or Twitter. That way you can respond quickly whether there is a customer issue or a compliment.

The elephant in the room

Crisis Management is the Voldemort of Social Media. Well, until you think of online criticism as an opportunity to improve your product and to create a more loyal customer. 

They key is to be polite and to listen. That is the art of being social. 

Acknowledge both compliments and negativity with grace, publicly. If you feel the need to be combatative, take a deep breath and step away from the internet.

Most often, your loyal customers will step in on your behalf and call foul of the person who is badmouthing your business, which will circumvent your need to speak defensively.

Should you feel you are being harassed, in a calm and polite manner invite the person to speak with you offline. The reason for this is that you are leaving a trail of online footprints that will remain there for others to see and to judge long after the fact.

If you are genuine, professional and run a business that cares for its customers, then social media will be a fun way to engage positive opinions and reviews. And because magazines and newspapers surf social media to find out what’s hot, it could be a way for you to get your business into other publications.

So, can you really afford not to be social?

A version of this piece first appeared in Espresso Italiano magazine and online for Lavazza. More social media advice from me can be unlocked by Lavazza customers on that website. In the next issue, I talk about Yelp for the hospitality industry.
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Livingroom for more

Image from the restaurant's website

"…A Hendricks and ice for me"

"Would you like that with cucumber?"

"Yes please!" My heart skipped a happy beat.

Dining in a suburban restaurant I did not expect to find Hendricks Gin available, but that short discourse told me that I had been placed in good hands.

 


In my experience the further you go from the Melbourne CBD, the better the Asian food. The converse applies to European food, especially in the South Eastern suburbs. 


Go beyond Attica in Ripponlea and the imaginative, conceptual cooking seems to disappear until you reach the countryside, where The Royall Mail and Loam are edging into creative modern territory. The same can be said for what I recently heard described as 'Honest Food' – good ingredients delivered simply, using traditional techniques and served up with a whole bunch of integrity.


While the expensive, modern and adventurous is something I looked forward to about twice a year, it is the honest stuff that would entice me to leave my own kitchen more often. My two favourite exponents of this kind of thing unfortunately are far from my home: George Biron's Sunnybrae in Birregurra and Steve Cumper's Red Velvet Lounge in Cygnet, Tasmania. The tyranny of distance means that I don't dine at either often enough. But now I think I've found another to add to the list, and it's amazingly in the burbs.


By the suburbs I don't mean way out in the heartland of McMansions where Asian cooking reaches amazing highs at low price points. No, this venue is in Malvern, where the leafy streets are filled with meticulously restored and extended period homes, well serviced by public transport and a mere stone's throw from our Jewish heartland. My new happy place venue is Livingrooom.


Hugging a corner in Claremont Street, Livingroom stretches its verandahs wide over the pavement. Close to Malvern station and away from the din of bustling Glenferrie Road it squats low on the landscape surrounded by genteel shops and a doll hospital.


This is a locale that keeps a respectable distance from the youthful outlook of St.Kilda, Windsor and the tourist aspect of the CBD; an interesting spot to do business. And somehow Livingroom manages to face the challenge of entertaining the professional families and Empty Nesters residing in Armadale through to Caulfield with integrity from breakfast through to dinner service.

They do it by making their guests feel like they're visiting neighbours for a dinner party, or by day that they've dropped in at a girlfriend's for a gossip and a cuppa. On Saturday afternoon it's a place where a man of a certain age can just be alone with the newspapers or a group of middle aged men can grab an espresso before catching a train to the football. 

Walking the tightrope between various functions, Livingroom manages to be smart, bright, spacious and kid friendly from breakfast through to dinner and at night is as intimate as the dining room of a picket fenced, restored five bedroom Federation house, with parent's retreat and outdoor living area.


Inside, an eclectic arrangement of old domestic dining tables and chairs are delineated into two spaces by chandeliers in the lower, more formal area and red shaded pendant lights in an upper room that feels more café in style. This second space is dominated by the coffee machine, wine fridges and a toy box. On entry the Kitchen is visible and in it you will spy Head Chef Darren Daley.

In 1999 Darren was recruited from London's Bibendum restaurant at the height of its popularity and prowess. He was one of a number of British Chefs lured to Melbourne to work at the Sofitel. At the time TV Masterchef judges, Gary Mehigan and George Calombaris were also employed there.


Darren however, is a quiet achiever. You won't find young Restaurant Critics fawning over Darren. He has not sought out their favour nor courted the limelight. He is not one of The Australian Food Twitterati. He does not have a big PR machine behind him, though I do suspect the PR hawks will be circling, hoping to get a piece of the action soon.


I've watched Darren's progression over the years. He has worked confidently and quietly since leaving The Sofitel by working at reputable venues. From being the lynch pin in revered gastropubs such as The Kingston in Richmond, to a stint at Guy Grossi's Mirka at Tolarno and then over to head up Sud's two venues, he has consistently produced a quality product, built on a passion for what he does best.

I respect the honesty of his cooking. He takes an artisanal approach. I have watched him make his own sausages, his eyes mist over at the thought of slow cooked dishes and heard him talk with excitement of cha sui bao – Cantonese roast pork buns. In his kitchen, a passion for showcasing good produce is at the fore. And to add to that there is also an honesty in the service, where Darren's sister - a Sommelier in training – works alongside staff recruited from Maha and other reputable venues, who strike a chord between knowledgeable and unpretentious.


So from breakfast to dinner you will find polite subtlety, attention to detail and quality both in service and cooking. A brand new wine list is extensive, chosen by Alan Markham, the owner of Livingroom. This list, I would suggest is to some guests, a little intimidating. But in a thoughtful manner, tasting notes for the European and Australian selection prevents potential blushes.


To me, on a number of levels they have a difficult clientele to woo. If the menu were to sound too molecular or fanciful it would turn the conservative core off, but if it doesn't sound that little bit special, it won't entice those looking for the night out with a brag factor either. So faced with the tightrope of a dinner menu I honestly found it tough to make a decision what to eat. I was tempted by much, but initially thought perhaps it wasn't pushing my boundaries. I later realised that the written menu did not do the delicious creations justice. So I wondered if a certain amount of dumbing-down had been called for, so as not to scare the locals?


I would describe Darren's offering as Contemporary European, at times rustic. In fact on a recent trip to Paris, we found that Livingroom was in step with the regular hang-outs of city living Parisians, because here, it's all about flavor. The dishes are not excessively tricked up with gadgetry or gimicry, just strong traditional techniques. I feel Darren does his suppliers proud. From early evening, starting with diners of families and older folk, to couples having a night away from the kids, it is clear that the customers are well taken care of.

Amongst the entrees on the night we visited there were some excellent locally made charcuterie options from Siketa Meats, a wagyu bresoala dish and crowd pleasers such as fried zucchini flowers stuffed with lemon, ricotta and mint and a roasted pepper dressing. But this clientele also love the chicken livers with capers, parsley, witlof and Roquefort dressing.


While polenta crusted sardines stirred Mr Sticki, he is a goats cheese buff, so went for the cheese in fritters with lemon thyme that was a roll call of his favourite ingrdients. The creamy texture and salt factor in the cheese was pleasantly offset by a piquant julienne of apple, radicchio, candied walnuts and truffled honey.

A five spice quail was reminiscent of dish I grew up with. Satisfyingly crisp fried, fleshy and subtly flavoured it works well with pickled chilli, mint and coriander. While comforting to me, I wondered whether the local clientele considered this Asian inspired offering exotic? But then I noticed in each course there was at least one dish that might appear challenging to the regulars and a number of items that some had not heard of such as, guanciale and scamorza.

Scanning the mains, I toyed with the idea of Parsley and gorgonzola risotto with apple and rocket salad. I flirted with pan fried Mirror Dory with sautéed cavala nero, confit duck and red wine puy lentils. Mr Stickyfingers chose a Black Angus sirloin with soft buckwheat polenta and braised shallots - over the skirt steak with pommes frites, truffle salt and veal jus. Finally, after much deliberation I selected a rabbit wellington with spinach, mushroom, sage and gorgonzola farce. I'm a sucker for meat in pastry and I love rabbit.

My main was very generous. Had not the beloved been on hand, I suspect I would barely have managed half. But that's just me. The contents had sufficient moisture while not making the pastry soggy. The gorgonzola gave the meat a hint of truffle like flavor, adding an unexpected depth to the dish. We could find no fault in the beautifully aged steak either. The shallots braised in wine were a delicious compliment to the deeply flavoured meltingly good meat.

At this point I must apologise for the crappy food photography. The dining scenario after the 8pm peak is moody and candlelit. It is the dinner party scenario of viewing your companions in beautiful, soft, candlelight that is unforgiving on food bloggers wielding a discrete camera that avoids flash.


As the night trickled on into the hour that gen Y usually start their evening, greed kicked in and we opted to share a dessert. While Mr coveted the Munster, Roquefort papillon and the Blairlaith Cheddar, despite hoping to leave room for more, there was no way that our bellies would allow us to man an assault on a cheese course. 


Our waitress nominated the chocolate and peanut fondant with vanilla bean icecream and salted caramel sauce, which totally hit the spot in a gooey, crunchy, sweet-but-not-sweet way. It was perfect in all respects. Like a couple of shuffleboard players we found ourselves dueling to scrape the last remnants from the plate.

Later, rolling outside into the quiet night I knew that I would be back. Being in good hands found us sated on more than one level and happy to have found 'my kind of place' south of the Yarra …. and not so far from Chez Sticky. It's really no wonder that the locals love Livingroom.

Livingroom Restaurant and Cafe

12-18 Claremont Avenue,

Malvern Victoria, 3144 

(03) 9576 0356 | book via website | map & email

Related articles

• Cooking Classes 2010 (sunnybraerestaurantandcookingschool.blogspot.com)
• Epic, sensational lunch at Sunnybrae (melbournegastronome.com)

Tasmania: The Red Velvet Lounge

The King will walk on Tupelo!
Tupelo-o-o! O Tupelo!
He carried the burden outa Tupelo!
Tupelo-o-o! Hey Tupelo!
You will reap just what you sow.
You will reap just what you sow.


Tupelo Written by: Cave, Harvey, Adamson 1984

Slowly raising my sleep encrusted eyelids, I peered out across the doona. A smoky eyed youth dressed casually in torn stone washed jeans and a bared six pack stared back. His blonde frosted, spiky hair was nuzzled by a barefooted woman with a huge cork screw perm and they were draped decorously over an old Buick in a field: the ultimate ‘80s pin up couple in a black metal frame. Was I dreaming? Had I gone back in time?

No. It wasn’t 1984. It was 2009 and we were in a Southern Tasmanian B&B in The Huon’s beautiful Cygnet, fifty minutes drive south of Hobart. This is the town where my friend and chef, Steve Cumper has settled. Back in ‘84, Steve and I were probably rocking around the same Punk scene in St.Kilda, Pogo-ing on sticky carpet and watching a baby faced Nick Cave tear up the stage.

It was in this momentary time-warp however and later - standing in the ensuite’s marble patterned Formica time capsule of a shower cubicle – that I began to understand the mindset of the local customer who criticized Steve for daring to break from the formulaic pub approach to meals with his wonderful evening menu at The Red Velvet Lounge.

You see Cygnet is vaguely reminiscent of Victoria’s Daylesford in 1984. Early invaders - crusty folk singing, tea cozy wearing types - are gradually making way for a trickle of self funded retirees from the mainland settling into a tree-change, alongside a small gay community who’ve also recognized the town’s potential. But forming the core of the community are those born and raised in The Huon Valley, some perhaps frozen in another era - possibly also locked in a culinary limbo - and who I suspect may still be coming to grips with Steve’s efforts to create a contemporary menu supporting local and artisanal produce.

On the periphery of the community, former Chef and Sydney Morning Herald Restaurant Reviewer, Matthew Evans can be found acting out a Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall scenario whilst being trailed by a film crew around his twee sounding property, Puggle Farm. In October, they will bring their footage of Cygnet to Australian TV viewers via SBS broadcasting.

In this picture, I imagine Steve Cumper to be Tasmania’s Alla Wolf Tasker - of Daylesford’s The Lake House - or an early version of Gourmet Traveller ‘National Treasure’ George Biron of Sunnybrae, tending his own farmlet and pushing the barrow of Sustainable, Organic, Local and Ethical (SOLE) food.

Back in '84 there was no way that I could afford to eat at a venue such as Alla’s or George’s. I couldn’t even afford the standard issue Punk studded leather motorcycle jacket. Steve couldn’t afford a car stereo so apparently had a cassette player taped to the dash of his old car.

In the eighties people my age who chose the ‘Alternative Lifestyle’ of local, biodynamic and artisanal food were presumed to be an unwashed hippie akin to Neil in The Young Ones, and not fit to dine in a fashionable restaurant. Now it’s all changed. Today SOLE food is becoming ‘de rigeur’ and Mr Sticky and I happily tucked into Steve’s special Friday evening meal at Red Velvet Lounge (RVL).

We came to RVL on what became our ‘Tasmania: Closed for the Weekend’ tour of the Apple Isle. Nearly everywhere we wanted to go was shut, in spite of advertising that they’d be open. Seems that those who could, had left Tassie for a break on the mainland. They must have flown out on one of those ridiculously cheap flights that had brought us there in the first place.

Consequently it was an unusually quiet night at RVL, with the subtle sounds of bossa nova from the stereo mingling with a few tables of polite chatter, until an aging folk music duo quietly settled on a couch in the corner of the room for guitar strumming, humming and harmonizing. There was a time where the folk music was the focus of this venue, not the food. But the balance has now changed. The diners we saw were indifferent to the music played at the front of the restaurant.

We found the service to be good at RVL. So often it is hard to manage this in regional venues, but I suspect that Steve’s nurturing nature knits this loyal group like a family. We began service with a couple of local beers, a Moo Brew from Moorilla and a ‘Cleansing Ale’ sighted on a chalkboard while considering the menu.

Although by day the Red Velvet Lounge is a small town café selling delicious wholesome daytime meals, suitable to vegan, vegetarian and omnivore alike, Friday and Saturday nights’ menu allows Steve to show off his prowess. Simple rustic sounding dishes - that won’t scare the natives - abound. But when you taste the food you realize that under the surface is a complex and imaginative array of meals that other chefs might be tempted to describe in four flowery lines of text. I love the restraint of description here. It allows you to discover the depths of Steve’s creativity orally with no major preconceptions to hinder the process.

Surveying the menu I wanted all the entrees on offer; we sampled three between us. I could not fault any of them. All wore a simple mantle that disguised the technical degree of difficulty combined with imagination that an experienced, meticulous chef can seemingly effortlessly pull off.

Between us we shared a rabbit pie floater with mushy peas and roasted parsnip which could have passed as a meal in-itself, as Steve doesn’t like to skimp on portions. There was no corner cutting here, a properly formed pie with lid sat picture perfect in the centre of the dish. Steve’s sour cream pastry was the perfect foil to the unctuous filling, offset beautifully by fluffy mushy peas and the sweetness of a roasted parsnip.

When it came time to swap plates, my nose was greeted by the wonderful aromas of the grilled Rannoch Farm quail. I lingered, inhaling it and then the saliva swarmed my palate until I just had to taste it. This was not a dish I anticipated in a regional restaurant but it was everything you would wish for – a fine mélange of fresh local flavours: delicate moist flesh with artichokes, punctuated with the tang and firmness of olives, then vine leaves and finally the verjuice, which made me think of Steve’s days with Maggie Beer in the Barossa.

Thirdly, we shared the duck neck sausage which was a thick, coarse, almost terrine like item, sliced and served with a wee jar of smooth, rich pâté, celeriac remoulade and some cornichons. The lot sat on a thin, long wooden board which was also graced by thick char-grilled slices of Steve’s famous bread, baked in the Restaurant’s original Scotch oven.

The pâté had Mr Sticky hooked, so silky and flavorsome was it. Perfectly rustic & slightly gamey, the total combination of textures and deep flavours in this entrée made it subtly sophisticated, and yet had me imagining that it would have been the ideal picnic dish for sitting by the water, watching the pod of whales that had recently graced the locals with a sighting.

When the main courses arrived, I was feeling nearly full already. But we forged on. Before me sat an impressive thick cut, crumbed pork Cotoletta upon a mound of velvety parmesan enriched mashed potato. Greed took over. Slicing in, it was perfectly moist and satisfied my wicked desire for crunchy, crumbed and fried meat. Baby rocket rounded out the vegetable content and a wicked dish of aioli flecked with local truffles sat alongside, enriching the palate further.

It crossed my tongue with a sigh of satisfaction. Whilst the execution was technically perfect, what made this special was that the integrity of the high quality produce was not compromised or gussied up as to become pretentious. It was a homely Mittle European style dish and for those who might be wary of modern ways, did not make a song-and-dance about the skill required to produce and prepare it.

The slow roasted leg of lamb rendered Mr Sticky speechless with admiration. Slow cooked for five hours, then pressed and finished again in the oven, it was a melt in the mouth, rib-sticking piece of deliciousness. The seasoning added richness. The lamb lost none of the honesty of its flavor in the process and did not have the cloying fattiness that some lamb dishes suffer. With the Cassoulet like braise of Cannelini beans, spinach and another side - this time of anchovy mayonnaise - it was a hearty dish that I could see my beloved was almost loathe to part with as we swapped plates. In my opinion it was an exemplary dish, the likes of which one might have presumed ought to have earned RVL a place in the 09 Gourmet Traveller Food Guide had they tried it.

I was thankful that the restaurant was quiet that night, as it allowed Steve the chance to come out and chat. At this point, chatting excitedly - albeit with food still left on our plates - I was already in a food coma. Mr Sticki however was tempted to order dessert. His choice was the chocolate mousse with peppermint praline. He may have felt full, but this slipped down quickly, lubricated with cream.

I took one mouthful and it was a trip to chocolate heaven, smooth and rich, offset by the crunch of the crumbled sugary mint candy. It was elegant and unbound by gimicry. My coffee sufficed to end my meal. Enlivened by good conversation and a fine repast, I was thoroughly sated.

One of the things I admire and respect in Steve is his optimistic and humble nature. He keeps his head down and charts his own course without hype or braggadocio. Early in his career he worked at Melbourne’s famous Tsindos Bistrot, under Ray Tsindos, son of iconic Chef George Tsindos, the man who for 40 years brought Florentino’s high repute.

Later Steve joined Maggie Beer’s Pheasant Farm Restaurant in The Barossa Valley, at that time regarded as Australia’s equivalent to Alice Waters. Other highlights include launching Soul Mama with Paul Mathis, raising the reputations of the Zampelis Restaurant Group and later winning Vogue Entertaining’s Award for use of local produce at Tasmania’s Peppermint Bay Restaurant. Not that he’ll wave any of that in your face. Steve is a thinker, an artisan, a talented chef and family man with his feet planted firmly in the ground while he dreams up beautiful recipes.

Similarly the venue is humble. Like a big warm hug from Nana, the venue allows you to rest in the comfort of its vaguely retro bosom. A former double fronted General store, the café-cum-restaurant features a counter and display cases showcasing Steve’s breads, jams and preserves. An open kitchen is disguised at night by an enormous floor to ceiling red curtain. There is a wood combustion stove, leather couches and heavy tables and chairs. It walks a dignified line between a busy casual breakfast and lunch café for most of the week, and an approachable rustic restaurant on Friday and Saturday evenings that doesn’t intimidate the old school locals.

Evidently Steve’s taken the softly-softly approach here, evolving the venue’s approach gradually from Crusty-Wholefood café to City style dining. So it was no surprise when Cygnet locals told us “they went spare” when RVL closed for renovations, feeling bereft without Steve’s handmade bread, asking if he could continue to service them in spite of the closure. Also the Tree-changers declaring that RVL had “The best coffee for miles” who suffered in silence before they could again enjoy their ritual caffeine hit.

After enjoying both, I can totally understand their loyalty and why the people of Hobart and beyond will drive out of their way to eat Steve’s food. For at the heart of this place is a quiet, determined passion within a spirited thinker who cares not a jot for fashion, but for what is intrinsically good in the world. If you’re visiting Hobart, I highly recommend that you book a table there one night and see for yourself....and tell him Sticky sent you.

The Red Velvet Lounge
24 Mary Street, Cygnet, Tasmania, Australia
03 6295 0466