THE
FAWKNER
52
Toorak Rd.
South Yarra
Melbourne
Tel: 03 9820 1000
About twenty years ago I
was offered a new job. Not a small one. I was offered the job
of Premier of Victoria.
The person who offered it was a
multi-millionaire. He was one of a group of schemers who offered
to spend more than a million dollars to get me into State Parliament
and into the leadership.
One of the politically powerful
lunchers owned the place where we were lunching. It was the restaurant
in a complex called The Fawkner Club or Tiffany’s on the
Park.
For a while it was a “buzz”
place. Especially big on weekends under the moveable roof. Then
they shut it down. Tore it down, in fact. And it has been reborn
as a block of apartments and a new restaurant called The Fawkner.
And that’s what I want to
talk about. Fawkner’s is a gem. A great bar. A great restaurant.
The man behind it is the man they just call Fonda. He used to
run Cavalli in Fitzroy Street, St Kilda.
His new place really works. I have
a personal bias here. With a partner I was actually offered the
space to build and open a restaurant there. I decided against
it. Thought it couldn’t be done in such a small space. I
was wrong. They cleverly did it.
And so we have The Fawkner. Across
the road from Fawkner Park and those expensive tennis courts.
They have done it well. They have
honoured the heritage of the old place. There are leather benches
and a marble-topped bar and an open fire. A cosy place to read
the Sunday papers. They have even brought back an old idea: The
Sunday roast. For $35 a head you can have a traditional roast
pork with crackling and trimmings. Plus some apple and cherry
crumble. Or roast beef or roast leg of lamb.
You have to order it on the preceding
Friday. On 9820 1000.
I had had pleasant Sunday drinks
there but then went back and had a rabbit and leek pie for dinner.
Beautiful. I was dining with my ex-wife Jacki Weaver. She had,
and raved about, a coq au vin. Her husband, Sean Taylor –
South Africa’s best actor – had roast chicken. That
dish is a bit tricky and it deceived us.
It looked underdone in the muted
lighting. There is nothing worse than under-cooked chicken and
I sent it back. But it was an illusion. They cook their chicken
in a beetroot-based juice. It looks pink and underdone. It’s
not. It is stained.
The Fawkner has a great future.
It should rise as well as the delicious mini loaves of bread they
serve.