Give The Galloper Its Head

Sydney Morning Herald

Saturday December 8, 2007

Helen Greenwood

Grand National

161 Underwood Street, Paddington, 9363 3096

Fri-Sun, noon-3pm; Tue-Sat, 6-10.30pm; Sun 6-9pm

The pedigreed pub nosh performs well but could do with a little more insouciance.

DO YOU know the dessert Eton mess? It's a wickedly good, British boarding-school scrum of meringue, cream and fruit flopped into a bowl.

At the Grand National, Eton mess arrives neat and tidy, gussied up in a glass like a scrubbed debutante. And it sums up my minor misgivings with the National's much-praised, much-awarded food.

The Nash is a pub known for its grub. The renovated, yet rakish bar, where locals unwind over a schooner, has a stonking big blackboard menu listing alluring counter nibblies.

Outside and down the side is the real gastronomic action, through a modern glass entrance into a space twice the size of the front bar. This room has been renovated, with a capital R. It has been opened up and stripped back to soft white walls, parquet floor and a glass roof. Classic bentwood chairs, tablecloths and a handsome art deco-inspired bar are its only accessories.

These good looks are matched by excellent manners. I am "madam" when I book, I am attended to graciously when I arrive and I can tell you that Emmanuel Bernados who runs the floor is the antithesis of his Fawlty Towers near-namesake.

With what is almost a bow, he takes us to a privately positioned table behind one of the columns. He reads the hesitation on my face instantly. Would we prefer another table? I choose one near the open kitchen, a throwback to the '80s when some of Sydney's best chefs cooked in pubs. But there the resemblance ends.

Where they were flinging their refined techniques at bistro-type dishes, the Grand National's Ian Oakes plates up refined dishes in a highly mannered fashion. Oakes's aspirations have earned him, and his brigade, a hat in The Sydney Morning Herald Good Food Guide 2008. You'd think that this accolade would fill seats, even on a Sunday night, but you would be wrong. There are a few couples and a well-groomed group of family and friends of various ages (think adolescent to late adult) finishing their entrees.

For us, an amuse-bouche of white bean and truffle in a tiny demi-tasse sets the polite tone and continues with a salad of roast quail, mache and speck.

Not only are the birds' breasts pale (plea to growers: bring back the dark gamy flesh), they are lined up like toy ducks in a shooting gallery and the salad is a scattering of microscopic mache tendrils.

The other entrees are more interesting. Seared scallops are juicy and fat, a great punching partner for the liquid serrano ham while the white bean puree acts as a creamy referee.

The yellowfin tuna is just-seared with a mild parsley crust and ringed with tender calamari. I doubt whether our local tomatoes will be of much use in a salad with baby artichokes and St Maure goat's cheese but I am wrong. Oakes gets the balance just right.

Doubts surface again with the risotto. The truffle paste rings loud and clear but the roast mushroom, chestnuts and mascarpone are barely a whisper.

An open lasagne of john dory, tiger prawn, scallop and beurre blanc is a more melodic composition while confit of Aylesbury duck leg is only let down by the under-dressed celeriac remoulade. The powerful tea-smoked ocean trout owes some of its potency to the thick blood line under the skin and its beans fricassee is al dente to the point of undercooked.

The gorgeous wine list lets us go wild with a Paringa Estate pinot noir which I'd like to make my house wine and then we come to the desserts and the Eton mess.

You already know how contained it is. Well, the milk chocolate and fig parfait could do with that kind of corset. It slumps, half-way eaten, stiffened only by a lovely, perfumed, Christmassy iced ginger biscuit.

The coconut bavarois, on the other hand, has the right amount of wiggle and so do the fruity cubes of mandarin jelly. But why the under-ripe rockmelon?

Spiced baked peach, apple and pear with a goat's cheese and yoghurt sorbet is the most relaxed dessert and the most successful. You can sense each element and its warm, tangy whole.

I would welcome more of this insouciant, carefree approach in this fine restaurant's food. It would free up its soul. In fact, the rakishness of the front bar needs to find its way down the back.

Let the mess be messy because, sometimes, you don't mind a bit of grub in the pub.

DIGEST

Food

Skilled and composed, yet you long for the chef to throw off his corsets and let his flavours run free.

Service

Faultless, from the polite phone manner to the gracious greeting and the final wave.

Atmosphere

Art deco elegance and a parquet floor fit for a ball.

Value

Predictable one-hat prices: entrees $16-$19, mains $28-$32, desserts $14-$16

Noise level

Moderate

Recommended dishes

Seared scallops, parsley crusted yellowfin tuna, tomato salad, open lasagne of john dory, confit of Aylesbury duck, spicy baked peach, apple and pear, coconut bavarois.

© 2007 Sydney Morning Herald

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