After months of donning jaunty neckties and emitting coital moans with each taste-test of a casserole, it was inevitable Lady Jaws would find her derrière balanced on a barstool at Matt Preston’s preferred Melbourne eatery, Cumulus Inc.
Like the man himself, it is a veritable gentleman of a dining establishment. So smooth, so satisfying, so easy to enjoy its company.
Why aren’t there more restaurants like this? I guess the natural look for restaurants is as difficult as its manicure equivalent.
Take the wine list, which as effortlessly lends itself to a bottle of something fabulous as it does to affordable glasses able to befriend the oncoming parade of shared dishes.
For us, a celebratory Prosecco and a cheeky Beechworth rosé held up to a selection from the lolly-shop-esque oyster menu, scallops swathed in gossamer-thin speck and all chapters of the charcuterie plate from the chunky duck terrine to the housemade salami.
Top-ups were required to cut through a voluptuous gnocchi and artichoke bake smeared with taleggio and truffle, as well as a 12 hour pork strap, a cut that flops all over the ubiquitous belly, particularly when crackled to perfection by McConnell’s gallant kitchen.
Tis quite a healthful menu, vegetable and shellfish heavy. Not surprisingly, our token gesture to the fibrous – a cracked wheat salad, spotted with tangy berries, preserved lemon, herbs-a-plenty and blobs of crème fraiche eventuated as the meal’s highlight.
Equal first to the enlightened desserts, that is.
Think fluffy rum baba with a bottle of Havana Club in tow, or an ice-cream sandwich of stout parfait, offset with a blackcurrant sorbet, Liverpool Kiss stylie.
Food that whips your heart into a frenzy, is wholesome and reliable and will be there in the morning (check out the brunch menu).
Cumulus Inc, 45 Flinders Lane, Melbourne.