FOG
142 Greville Street
Prahran, Melbourne
Ph: 03 9521 3571

You don’t usually associate food with the word ‘fog’.  I mean, there was Phineas Fogg in Around the World in Eighty Days and Heathcliff staggering through the mist and fog in Wuthering Heights. It even had a Royal connection. Princess Anne’s first husband, Capt. Mark Phillips, was known as Fog because he was so thick.

And it became corrupted as ‘I’ve got a frog in my throat’. (For pedants that started out as ‘to feel the fog in my throat’ in Prospice in 1864.)

Now, it’s a restaurant in Prahran but the name has everything to do with food and nothing to do with the weather  -- although a heavy fog is known as a ‘pea-souper’.

FOG, a new classy Melbourne eatery, is actually an acronym combining the name of the adventurous and successful restaurateur, Sam Frantzeskos and the location. Frantzeskos On Greville. FOG.

I have dined there three times. The first encounter was impressive – especially their signature entrée of tuna sashimi, toasted sesame seeds, Jalapeno pepper, red onion and raw soy. And their crab cakes.

The second visit wasn’t as good, mainly because Frantzeskos with his background in nightclubs, was still trying to find the balance between a classy restaurant and the long bar plus another cocktail bar down the back and an outdoor courtyard bar.

On that Saturday night Prahran’s clubbers (and a couple of scrubbers) were streaming through the dining room to the action down the back.

A recent third visit was stunning. Five of us celebrating one guest’s birthday. It was a throwback to a chilly wintry night but it didn’t matter. The courtyard heaters and a huge red gum brazier tossed enough heat to make pre-dinner drinks relaxing and comfortable.

There is an understandable American Southwest twang to some of the dishes. The three amigos heading up the kitchen are from the U.S. and the restaurant décor could easily be upmarket Manhattan or Chicago.

They have an oak smoker out the back which turned out a perfect rack of lamb.  The big meat dishes continue with a sirloin steak and what looked like a multi-deck of pork belly.

Mrs. Nosebag, who can be a harsh critic, gave a gold star to the Tasmanian salmon with its moist flesh topped by crispy skin. I wish I knew how they did that. By the time I could get the skin crisped to perfection I reckon the fish itself would look and taste like a slice of dried, almost ossified, cuttlefish that we used to feed to the pet budgies.

My simply named ‘seafood stew’ had  prawns and mussels and chunks of tasty white fish in a tasty wine-reduced broth that resembled an Aussie-style bouillabaisse.  The mains were all around $33 but I was a  little surprised that the rack of lamb was six bucks more expensive than the steak.

The bottom line though was that we had five great dishes, all served on time, all served hot, and all devoured with not one complaint.

There were reasonable wines at $9 a glass and $45 a bottle. And for the dwindling army of pathetic smokers there was the friendly courtyard for a fix.

Saving the best till last:  Their thick-cut chips are the best in Melbourne. They are cooked in cotton-seed oil for a golden, crispy outside and fluffy white potato inside. One bowl is enough for the whole table.

So next time when you ask a partner or a date where to eat and they respond with ‘wouldn’t have the foggiest’, just say ‘FOG’. You won’t regret it.

November 9. 2007