Merricote

Anyone who doesn’t love Merricote has serious issues in my book. It’s a mighty place. This is my favourite restaurant in the inner north. Consistently lovely and inventive food, terrific wines and very nice professional staff. I’ve lived in Northcote for over 30 years. My old school friends didn’t believe that my suburb has any good restaurants. They’re from the east and about as non hipster as you can possibly imagine. Crossing the river makes them exceptionally nervous. Well, they loved it. The visionary Bronwyn designed a menu that completely won over these hardened cynics. Stunning food and gorgeous wines. Genuinely friendly and witty service too. I was momentarily a hero. Merricote, I love you.

Textural contrast, perfect seasoning and flavour combinations that work, rather than trying to be outside of the box for the sake of it, are what make dishes rises above the rest and sing. It is often easy to find one or two of these elements in a dish and to walk away happy but not be blown away. At Northcote restaurant Merricote so many of the dishes ticked each box; a pastry wrapped prawn ‘cigar’ was the first thing I ate and had me mentioning to my partner, «It’s so nice to have something that is salted so well». However it was the play on textures evident in most of the dishes that had this meal joining my list of the best dining experiences of 2013 (and it has been a competitive year!).
Owned and run by chef Rob Kabboord (who has worked at 3 hat restaurants Claude’s and Quay in Sydney) along with his wife and front-​of-​house star Bronwyn, Merricote is that neighbourhood restaurant that will easily become a regular favourite (the name comes from a portmanteau of nearby Merri Creek and Northcote). Intended in the most complimentary way possible, it is like dining at your friends’ house; if one of your friends happens to be a talented chef and the other friend owns a very impressive wine cellar tucked away in the corner of the house. This is a warm, friendly and inviting spot, leaving any pretensions far behind; the dining room has a dash industrial with the bare bulbs hanging down from the ceiling but it is mostly a homely feel with animal prints and a stag’s head on the wall and a collection of cute animal figurines left to roam free, from napkin rings to paperweights. This feel carries through to the service, led by Bronwyn, which is open, honest and pitch perfect; they are there when you need them, happy to join in a conversation and a laugh but side step away when they need to.
The Dutch theme continued in the ‘Appeltje Eitje’ (literally translates to ‘Apple Egg’, but is also a phrase similar to ‘piece of cake’); this dish was anything but simple, probably the best blend of contrasting textures I have eaten for a long time. Sweet yet acidic apple, oozing slow-​cooked yolk, spring peas cooked to the point where they are both tender and al dente, a burst of freshness from micro-​herbs, crisp puffed rice, olive oil powder and more hidden morsels. It was a beautiful nest of flavours and textures that complimented and played off each other, and an easy highlight of the meal. The other entreé we ordered was roasted quail breast, crispy skin and tender meat, served with a scotch egg made with the leg meat of the quail wrapped around a quail egg. Quail is such a delicious meat when cooked properly, which it was, and was served with barley, corn, mushrooms and a swipe of purée.
Moving into mains, the chef’s choice was the John Dory, an immaculately well-​cooked piece of fish (even for my partner who is not the biggest lover of things from the sea), with a burst of sea succulents and a chamomile foam. Foams often reek of gimmickry unless they serve a purpose, as it did here, lending just a hint of chamomile to the dish, which could otherwise have overpowered the subtle John Dory. In another main, two generously thick slices of pork topped with crispy crackling were paired with a spring salad of asparagus, zucchini flowers, peas and white beans with a gentle kick of olive to round out the plate. I am a big lover of pork, and very unforgiving when it is dry and overcooked, so it was mouth-​watering to see it arrive lightly pink and juicy. The final main was a celebration of different cuts and preparations of Flinders Island lamb, by now it was no surprise they were all cooked perfectly, with a light crunch from green beans, creamy richness of broad beans, a hit of acid from pickled onion and a delicious L’Artisan Mountain Man cheese infused sauce (not a gluggy béchamel based one). A cube of braised lamb, crumbed and fried was a standout on the plate, something I could easily have eaten a bowl of as a snack.
Merricote had been lingering on my list of must-​visit restaurants for too long and I was glad to fix that huge oversight and discover why everyone raves about it and why they picked up a chef’s hat at the 2013 Age Good Food Guide awards. We are spoilt in Melbourne for restaurants that focus on top-​notch food and great service but without the fuss that you often find in fine dining establishments, and Merricote is one of the best examples of this. An easy way for me to judge how much I enjoy a restaurant is by how effortlessly the time I spend there flies by, it was after midnight before I finished grazing on the assortment of cheese, over five hours had disappeared in a haze of perfection. If you have not been to Merricote yet then it is time that you change that.
You can read the full review at my website.

Nestled between a heritage strip of buildings, Merricote is an unassuming space of rustic domesticity. In the front dining area, less than thirty may be seated at undressed hardwood tables. An increasing rarity in Melbourne’s dining landscape, these tables are well-​spaced and far apart, positioned over a well-​treaded Persian-​style rug. The galley bar that is the focal point of so many Melbourne restaurants is not here. Moved to one side, one’s gaze will instead fall upon figurines of farm animals clamouring for attention from a small display shelf, the snappy monochrome tiling work, and the impressive wine cellar. A large gilt mirror reflects the natural light that streams through the full glass frontage, and the electric lights from the exposed looped ceiling bulbs and the retro-​vintage lampshades. Merricote’s uncluttered, somewhat spartan, yet homely décor is at polar ends to the unexpected poetry of its contemporary culinary offerings.
…Cast aside one’s prejudices born of its low-​key rustic décor and its nondescript northern suburban location. Dining at Merricote is akin to discovering that first-​edition book in a dusty second-​hand book shop, or that priceless painting in the forgotten backroom of an antique store. MoMo & Coco haven’t been this excited about dining in Melbourne’s northern suburbs nor with modern-​Australian/​European food since the advent of Cutler & Co. At Merricote, you won’t partake in quotidian European bistro fare, nor will you find the contrived, lightweight, high-​falutin, over-​priced creations typical of many restaurants with the same modern-​Australian/​European orientation. Instead, Merricote is an embodiment of a gastronomical flight of fancy, but unlike the ill-​fated ambitious Icarus, it is steadfastly anchored with serious conviction and maturity. From start to finish, it never looses momentum, showcasing degrees of great creativity and originality. It all ends with a booming crescendo of three particularly exceptional sweet irresistibles. Overall, it’s a wonderfully realised dream of a dining experience.