Colonial Tramcar Restaurant
Melbourne
www.tramrestaurant.com.au

Let’s say from the outset I hate tourist attraction restaurants. Especially revolving ones. They are usually there for the view and not the food.

It was ever thus. I remember back in the 1970s when the Hungry Hinch first pulled on the nosebag as a restaurant reviewer for the now defunct Sydney Sun newspaper. Of which his alter ego was also The Editor.

More than thirty years later the intro is still etched in my mind. I wrote of the revolving restaurant called The Summit atop Sydney’s new Centrepoint Tower: “If nothing else, and there is nothing else, the view is fantastic”.  At the famed Fishermen’s Wharf in San Francisco the cardboard punnets of shrimps were almost inedible as well as the slabs of fishy in greasy batter.

To be honest, there have been rare exceptions. The fish and oysters at the revolving eatery on top of the Wrest Point Casino in Hobart, Tasmania, were faultless. Ditto the revolving restaurant on top of Star City casino needle towering over Auckland, New Zealand.

So, on to another revolving excursion. Although this one revolves around tram tracks meandering through the CBD and suburban Melbourne. Welcome to the world’s first restaurant on a tramcar.

And this, easily, is the best of the lot. It is not even touristy. The Saturday night we were on it – there are now four restaurant trams operating – it was patronised by Melbourne couples, people from country Victoria and some tourists.

It was a great night. And remember I went on board with a load of biased conceptions. That was partly because I had seen the distinctive original tram restaurant trundling around Melbourne from back in the early-1980s. Its original reputation – especially for food --- was not good. Mainly because, in the fledgling days, the restaurant tram did not have a kitchen. Instead, they would stop at about four restaurants along the route, pick up tinfoil trays of food and zap the meals in a microwave oven.  And, I was told, the meals tasted like food that had been zapped in the microwave.

Not any more. Our tram had an on-board kitchen and a toilet. The food was well-prepared, well-cooked,  well-presented and there was too much of it. In fact it was a menu that would have lived up to the fare at any good restaurant – that did not move.

Try these.  The appetisers:  cream, liver and cognac pate topped with a port wine and juniper jelly. And a roasted red capsicum dip. For vegetarian/ fishetarian Mrs. Nosebag there was a tangy avocado dip.

The entrees on offer were a grilled kangaroo fillet marinated in lemon myrtle and honey and served with a berry blini and spiced tomato chutney. We both passed on that and went for generous flakes of Goulburn River smoked trout.

For mains there was a huge eye fillet of beef (both passed again) and I had a grilled chicken breast. It was served with a morish Mediterranean vegetable risotto that included interesting spices and sliced black olives. Mrs. Nosebag had a fillet of pre-ordered fish.

Then, as the belt stretched, there was a selection of cheese including a good, mouldy, blue vein with a pear paste, and dried muscatels and fruit bread.

For dessert there was a choice of a warm, sticky date pudding, surrounded by a moat of butterscotch and caramel sauce, or a white chocolate and  passionfruit mousse with a raspberry sauce to cut the sweetness.

Then coffee and liqueurs. Through out the three-and-a half hour dinner on wheels Victorian white and red wines flowed generously. As you would expect for $110 a head. It’s cheaper for lunch and for an early dinner and on nights other than Friday and Saturday.

The quality of the food did surprise me. And don’t forget where you are. Not that that is easy. The newest, refurbished tram looks a bit like something out of Moulin Rouge. Red velvet and gold tassels on the pelmets and polished wood and leather seats and floor length mirrors on the doors.

Cooking and serving the dinners must be a space and logistical nightmare but you don’t get any inkling of that inside.

My only regret is that we weren’t  in America. Then  I could close by saying:  A streetcar named desire.

April 24, 2006