SEAGRASS
Mid-Level
Southgate Precinct
Southbank, Vic
03 9696 7655

With Mrs. Nosebag being a vegequarian and the Hungry Hinch edging into his dotage the quest for good seafood restaurants is endless. For me the days are long gone when I’d order a huge steak –and, when asked how I would like it cooked, would say ‘just walk it through the kitchen.’

In fact, my tastes have changed so dramatically that I have become a ‘grazer’. I’ll inevitably order an entrée and another entrée for a main course.

My red meat intake is miniscule these days except for thinly sliced lean beef, that you cook with cabbage and mushrooms and bamboo shoots and tofu in a seaweed broth, in my Japanese favourite dish called Shabu Shabu.

I have reviewed Shabu Shabu restaurants several times having eaten it from South Melbourne to Kyoto – including places like the old Kobe(replaced by Diamonji) in Clarendon Street, South Melbourne, and in Doncaster and Kenzan in the city.

It was actually my quest for Shabu Shabu  that caused me to stumble on Seagrass. I’d gone with another Shabu Shabu aficionado to Diamonji to discover it was no longer on the menu. Instead I had the worst Japanese dish I’d ever eaten. It was sliced beef, but served tough and dry on some shredded lettuce. Even slurps of soy sauce didn’t save it.

My friend, and former colleague, Laurenna, told me not to despair. She knew of a great Japanese place that served Shabu Shabu at Southgate a precinct that, foolishly I discovered, had not been on my radar for years.

The Cadillac always seemed to head on auto-pilot for Southgate’s Crown and places like Number 8 and  JJ’s and La Brasserie and Neil Perry’s and  recently the stunning Bistro Guillaume.

We settled in at a cheerful place that I won’t name because I wasn’t there long enough to remember it. It starts with M, next to the Red Emperor.

Our visit was brief because, for the first time in any restaurant in Sydney or Melbourne, they refused to allow me to drink my non-alcoholic sparkling cuvee and shiraz from Edenvale. The staff and managers were the ultimate inscrutables. A couple of places (Langham’s and Circa) had stung me $20 corkage but I’d never been banned before and so we left. Shaboo hoo.

But tears turned to cheers when I was introduced to nearby Seagrass. I’d heard about it. Food critic Stephen Downes said some nice things about it. ‘I get the feeling that everything at Seagrass has been thought through. It’s a professional brasserie, with a well-drilled corps of uniformed waiters, a charming manager who knows his stuff to the letter, and a stylish, minamalist ambience. But he took away a few points because in the end Downes decided ‘I prefer fish served more simply’.

I don’t agree. The place has a Japanese tinge to it in it’s presentation and I loved it. So much that, after dining there that first night, I took Mrs. Nosebag there a couple of nights later.

The ‘chef’s treats’ for starters were succulent both nights. One was a bright green pea veloute. The next visit it was a slice of tender kingfish in a light tempura case and seated on a brush stroke of blood orange sauce.

Among the entrees  the  Prawn Cocktail was a zillion miles from a few prawn sticking out of a tomato mayonnaise in the local  leagues’ club.

As with all dishes  the presentation showed that the pride in the dish started in the kitchen but was carried through to the waiters. The prawns came in a neat chimney stack with a tangy avocado salsa, confit tomato and marinated potato slices.

Both times I had the cured Petuna ocean trout with salmon pearls a cucumber and yogurt panna cotta . The cucumber was the thinnest Japanese-style slice on to of the yogurt mound and sitting on top was a perfect tempura oyster.

(Downes complained about the prices. I thought $16.90 for that and less than 20 bucks for the prawns was reasonable).

For a main I had another entrée and was glad I stuck to the smaller plate. Four char-grilled king prawns so big they looked like they could have pulled the trawler that caught them. They were served from a copper pan  at the table and laid out side by side on a stark white plate – shells removed except for heads and tails still attached. And finished off with a drizzle of anchovy butter.

After some hesitation Mrs. Nosebag went for the roast hapuka, a popular meaty fish from New Zealand. It was served with celeriac and a fricassee of mushrooms, lardons, pearl onions and sliced potato in a red wine reduction.

The hesitation was caused when I almost convinced her that a ‘lardon’ was a Chinese erection. It’s actually bacon – which they removed to meet her vegetarian standards.

Their side dishes are not only great value, they are great tasting. We shared a massive bowl of sugar snap peas, with garlic and ginger (there’s the oriental influence again) for $8.50 and too good Russet potato chips with the skin on.

Verdict:

These a hoary old joke about the  ‘seafood diet’. I see food and I eat it. Well, at the Seagrass  I saw a lot of tantalising food on the menu and wanted to eat it all. Well, over a number of visits.

May 19, 2008