Dinner by Heston Melbourne

Ashley Palmer-Watts is Heston Blumenthal’s right-hand man. Executive chef of the two-Michelin-starred Dinner by Heston in London and of the recently launched establishment of the same name in Melbourne, Australia, he’s like no chef I’ve met before – calm in nature, concise in his words and utterly down to earth. At 38 years of age he is a picture of health: bright-eyed, smooth skin, slicked back hair and with energy to burn.

I sit with him at the plush bar of Dinner by Heston Melbourne, soaking up the medieval textures of the modern room interior and Yarra River views. I listen to Ashley intently as he sips an espresso and explains that Dinner Melbourne was always designed to be a permanent fixture, and tells how he’s enjoyed his Melbourne stints so much that it has without a doubt become his much-cherished second home. He points to the front of the bar, riverside, a point at which the dining room begins.

‘The Fat Duck pop-up was a concept that developed as we were planning Dinner. It was a completely different restaurant, much smaller with different seating arrangements and with the centre console table as a feature. A false wall was erected to completely hide the bar; nobody knew it was here. The focus of visitors to The Duck was more about the dramatic entry and what lay inside.’

Today, banks of wine display-cabinets paint a line extending through and separating the bar from the dining room. Textures including leather, stone, dark velvet, iron and glass lend a subterranean mood. Just as spilt black ink can pool and reflect light glamorously, this restaurant’s interior darker edge is the foundation to what is otherwise grand palatial scenery. Metal sculptures, both kinetic and still dot the restaurant: these feel in part children’s storybook whimsical but also do a job of connecting the medieval past to the present. The kitchen rotisserie made to spit-roast pineapple connects to a kinetic sculpture beside the dining room. Its design, like a Tim Burton fairy-tale, features clockwork gears, crank shafts and iron and brass elements. It is the restaurant’s visual connection to medieval England.   

‘Most of our menu is influenced by medieval times and historic dishes,’ explains Ashley. ‘Many people have helped us achieve this: for example we’ve spent a lot of time visiting and talking with Marc Meltonville, one of two food historians at Hampton Court Palace, home to King Henry V. We also worked with Ivan Day, from the Lake District – one of the most prolific food historians in England – and Polly Russell, curator and researcher from the British library.’

The scale of food production here is astonishing. Ashley takes me via the restaurant-kitchen lift down to the basement prep kitchens. Here we explore a labyrinth of cool stores, meat butchering and fish preparation areas, a vegetable prep kitchen and another for pastry and desserts. We pass a shelf racked up with a bank of 12 sous vide water bath cookers.

‘We cook the chicken here, duck hearts, confit for two hours, and lots of vegetables’, says Ashley.

‘Our mashed potato never sees water, so we make that sous vide. With this method we don’t dilute any flavour away from the potato. We also cook things in flavoured liquids, like a fragrant vegetable braises and other vegetables like salsify, radishes, fennel and artichokes. You can cook and add to things in a sympathetic way to get extra depth and acidity into dishes.’

Dinner by Heston now produces between 1350 covers a week made possible only by an army of kitchen staff who spend part of their day underground, far below the restaurant floor before seeing the light of day, or twinkle of twilight, as they begin service in the massive glass-walled restaurant kitchen on level 3.

Exiting the cavelike food-prep network we have to wait for the lift, which is now carrying a man-sized tank of liquid nitrogen. Access is barred, for safety reasons, as the operator uses radio to negotiate the vessel’s safe delivery. Only then are we allowed to request a ride back up to the top.

Inside the lift Ashley tells of Marc Meltonville’s vast knowledge, the relatively recent discovery of an ancient royal chocolate kitchen at Hampton Court and a medieval recipe name that stood out to both Heston and Ashley.

‘Frumenty was a food dish name that we always had written down and so we returned to explore that further with Marc. He told us that frumenty was a dish that you would take to someone’s house at Christmas time or during the festive season. You’d take a hot broth with cracked wheat or barley, fruit or elements of fruit – currants or citrus – and meat or fish. One of the very early recipes was made with porpoise meat in 1390.’

Perhaps the most famous historic menu item served at Dinner by Heston is the Meat Fruit, which looks exactly like a freshly picked mandarin,  based on a recipe from about 1500. So far it’s clocked up 4,112 Instagram hash-tagged posts (and counting) so it is most certainly popular. It is, in fact, chicken liver parfait dipped in a bright tasting mandarin jelly with real leaf and stem attached. Ashley explains that rolled parfait balls are blast chilled to -32C and then dipped in jelly warmed to precisely 28C. The jelly, made of mandarin juice with gelatine and essential oil of mandarin, is held at temperature with the aid of a bain marie. As it cools around the parfait ball the layer of jelly freezes from the inside out, forming small dimples all over. It takes about two minutes for the jelly to set fully, then the process of cooling and immersion is repeated a second time.

‘We think the dimples have something to do with the water expansion within the juice when you freeze it. Obviously it expands and causes the structure of the jelly to not be smooth and flat – kind of disturbed’, says Ashley.

‘When we first started making it, some were turning out really shiny like glass and some had the dimples and duller appearance. To be fair, we didn’t know which of the two we preferred and we didn’t know exactly what we were doing, so we just had to figure it out. For example, if a new chef starts in the kitchen with us, every time, guaranteed, they miss the importance of letting the first layer really freeze before the second dip. So you end up with really shiny ones that we of course don’t serve. With the correct icy temperatures, the jelly skin cools to a beautiful waxy finish. Once completed the Meat Fruit needs to slowly defrost in a refrigerator and only then is it ready to be served.’

Head sommelier Loic Avril brings to the table a wine that magically crafts a spring garden-party sensory experience when paired with the Meat Fruit. The late harvest Tokaji wine from the Disznókő vineyard in Hungary features fragrances of bright mandarin and citrus oil – intense aromas that combine with the parfait and its mandarin jelly skin to create a fragrant sensation of being in an orchard, plucking fresh mandarins from the tree with citrus oil and leaf sap spraying at your nostrils. This wine choice is utterly clever, the whole experience joyous and fun.

The Hay Smoked Ocean Trout (c1730) with pickled lemon salad and gentleman’s relish, wood sorrel and smoked roe extends the multi-sensory dining experience. Its design is colourful and delicate but the texture and tastes are more robust. The fish, cured with coriander, salt, lemon and lime zest, is dusted with toasted kombu powder to add a fuller, umami punch. The seaweed powder adds a slightly grainy texture to the fish. But the real triumph here is the addition of the cold-smoked Siberian caviar.

This smoking process transforms the caviar, making it slightly darker colour and richer in flavour, similar to Beluga caviar in both appearance and texture.

Ashley explains that dining at Dinner by Heston can be as complex or as simple as you like: ‘For example you can book the chef’s table that seats four to six and learn about the origins of dishes, pulling apart the ingredients and cooking methods. Or you can simply come here to have steak and chips for dinner with a nice glass of red.’

Middle ground is a relaxed table for two or more, allowing the well-schooled wait staff to talk you through the menu. Their delivery is both entertaining and informative, the service perfect and unobtrusive. Our waiter Eric is keen to point out that many people avoid the Chicken cooked with Lettuces (c1670), as it sounds too simple – but he assures us that it is one of the most tender meat dishes on the menu. On his advice we place our order.

Dinner by Heston’s modernised version of Frumenty (c1390), is centred on octopus grilled in the Josper charcoal oven with toasted spelt grains, served with a smoked sea broth made from juices collected from Josper-roasted mussels and cockles combined with a rich stock of button mushrooms, seaweed, shiitake, garlic, white wine and parsley. The stock is reduced and then enhanced with bonito. It’s complex, fragrant and warming.

Added to this is tangy pickled red moss, divine sweet droplets of chervil emulsion and native coastal garnishes: samphire (a succulent sometimes called sea asparagus), cleansing and bright flavoured sea spray (known in Europe as sea blight or sea rosemary) and juicy beach banana.

The frumenty is a highly emotive dish. It encapsulates fire and wood smoke, sea flavours, field grains, a broth rich in umami and the elevated punch of wild coastal herbs. It transports the diner beyond the here and now. I might have been beside a beach-side campfire, huddling in the cool salt air before the open flames. I felt comforted by the depth of flavour anchored in those mouthfuls of cooked spelt and succulent smoke-charred octopus. A hearty meal combining both robust and extremely delicate elements, it was utterly moving and inspiring. Our sommelier pairs the Frumenty with a glass of Pennyweight (Beechworth) Woody’s Amontillado solera sherry, a wine selected over a Spanish version for its bold depth, slight saltiness and extra dryness behind a nose of marzipan. Oxidised characters born of extended contact with air inside the solera barrels extend the umami flavours: sautéd mushrooms and earth feature. This union of wine and food, of fire defying water, creates deep, brooding flavours now etched in memory for safekeeping. I’d relive this experience in a heartbeat.

The chicken (from Mount Barker, WA) is brined and rolled, cooked sous vide and then roasted with a thin strip of salty, crispy skin on top. The chicken’s texture is smooth as butter: it’s firm enough to hold its shape but the knife glides through it. It lies atop a silk-textured parsnip purée that is simplistic yet pleasing. There’s just a hint of pepper seasoning cleverly adding body to the purée. To the side of the plate, a blanched and sautéed cos lettuce heart is topped with mayonnaise-like dots of onion emulsion made from Josper-roasted onions blitzed together with pickled-onion juice. A row of thin chicken skin crisps and a scattering of tiny potato chip cubes – looking like the best crunchy bits from the fish ’n’ chip shop – finish the dish and fool the mind into thinking that the skin is potato. It’s an unusual experience, hilariously mind-bending. On the flip side, there is something intrinsically comforting about this chicken dinner. The soft, moist roasted chicken combined with the lettuce and onion reminded me of typical Australian summer BBQ dinners with family, my sister and I pinching lettuce leaves from the salad bowl and my father forking pickled onions from the jar. I enjoyed this shifted mindset taking me back to my youth.

The Powdered Duck Breast (c1690) with smoked beetroot emulsion and grilled red cabbage is a classic. It is paired with a Gippsland Moondarra Samba Side 2013 Pinot Noir sporting a lavishly bright cherry nose. ‘Powdered’ is ye olde term meaning to salt cure, confirming the brining process that occurred before the duck was finished on one of the kitchen’s beautiful custom-made stainless plancha grills. Tonight’s duck is firm enough to add some bite, yet pink in colour, with a unique depth of flavour. House-made pickled Tasmanian cherries and slightly smoky char-grilled cabbage leaves add sweetness and body to the dish.

Desserts at Dinner excel both in historic context and diner’s choice. There’s everything here from rich and sweet to ultra-edgy, salty-savoury offerings. Classics include a medieval Sambocade (c1390), a goat’s milk cheese cake with elderflower and apple, the Taffety Tart (c1660), a very British recipe that has been modernised or perhaps Australianised with the addition of a wattleseed biscuit, eucalyptus and a refreshing blackcurrant sorbet. Ashley and Heston have even created their own take on the great Australian classic, the Lamington Cake (c1900). Delicate, light and fluffy, this vertical tower of symmetrical perfection is coated in toasted coconut and softly spray-painted in liquid chocolate. A sharp raspberry jam balances the weight of the rich dark chocolate mousse in its base. The house-made vanilla bean ice-cream topped with shaved coconut adds a delicate handcrafted final flourish.

Topping the list as the most edgy and simply awesome dessert has to be the magnificent Brown Bread Ice-Cream (c1830) with salted butter caramel, pear and malted yeast syrup. I simply couldn’t get enough of this dish. Ashley and Heston’s Victorian era delight is magnified with contrasting flavours – layers of deep dark malt, rye, yeasty syrup, an olive oil biscuit and lashings of sticky salted caramel. This wickedly indulgent concoction reminds me of the traditional slavic/baltic drink kvas, made from fermented black or rye bread. Like Kvas, the dessert has loads of malt character and a slightly-fermented yeasty goodness. While I enjoyed every single mouthful, I can see how that this dessert might present a significant culinary challenge for some diners. But be brave: I suggest you give it a go!

It’s just about impossible to visit Dinner by Heston with a group and for someone not to try the Tipsy Cake (c1810). Perhaps the most British of the dessert offerings, this pudding consists of brioche dough rolled in clarified butter and caster sugar and then baked in small cast-iron pots. Over the course of 45 minutes they are continually ladled with a mixture of Sauternes, brandy, sugar, vanilla and cream. A touch more alcohol is splashed on top before the cake is served with a decent chunk of golden-brown spit-roasted, basted pineapple. As you hoe in, the spit laden with pineapple continues to roast in the kitchen, the flickering fire behind it caramelising the juicy flesh that teases your mind. I’ll allow you to guess just how good it is. It is tradition at its finest and a great celebratory way to indulge in British history.

To complete the meal, Heston’s magical ice-cream trolly is wheeled out, complete with hand-cranked kitchen mixer, ice-cream cone holders and a silver jug housing that all-important liquid nitrogen. Our waitress, Ruby, describes tonight’s vanilla ice-cream ingredients then pours anglaise and liquid nitrogen into the mixer. As vapour erupts from her mixer/cauldron she tells the story about the experiments of the ‘Queen of Ices’, Mrs Agnes Bertha Marshall, who became famous for frozen desserts well before practical domestic refrigeration was invented. Ruby’s churning continues until at about a minute and 20 seconds, when her churning hand meets some resistance. As the vapour drifts away she begins spooning out the perfectly-formed silky ice-cream into brick pastry cones, dusted with icing sugar. Her wizardry and story telling matches the best of Heston’s crazed TV performances. And within a few licks, dinner by Heston is soon done.

Dinner by Heston Melbourne
Crown Towers, Level 3
8 Whiteman Street, Southbank, Victoria
Tel 03 9292 5779
www.dinnerbyheston.com.au