Whether it’s the grand dining room or the sweet wine bar out the back, the food is decidedly French, a theme that extends to the wine list alongside a fine showing of local drops.
There’s lots to ogle here, and many details to delve into and savour. Reine is Gothic Revival excess, with decoration dripping from the walls, epic grey granite Corinthian columns, marble trim, stained glass and soaring ceilings, and luxe comfort in the newer restaurant fittings, from the raw bar to the bar-bar lining 10 metres of both long walls. La Rue, meanwhile, is as polished and direct as a darkly forged blade, just eight seats, all shadow and intrigue. It’s definitely a place that pays off on return visits.
And then, of course, there’s the food. Jacqui Challinor is best known for her work at Nomad, but if there was any grinding of gears for her as she switched from modern Middle Eastern cooking to contemporary French, she got that out of the way well before the doors opened. Her take on French cuisine is elegant, fresh and coherent – not to mention delicious.
French is the thing in the kitchen and so it is in the cellar. But while you can deep-dive all you want into the land of Champagne and Burgundy (there’s plenty of both), you’ve also got Beaujolais for days, options from lesser-known French regions, a surprisingly deep offering from the USA, plus a really good selection of local wine. If you want to taste just how Chablis-like the best Victorian chardonnays can be, for instance, or if you want to savour really serious pinot, the staff here have your back, whether it’s a bottle or a glass, at Reine or La Rue. And if you want Champagne by the glass? Reine is going to give it to you, with Ruinart and Dehours and Krug all on pour.
Happily, this wine focus doesn’t come at the expense of other drinks. You’ve got a creative line-up of cocktails (with good low/no-alc options) plus a sharp list of beers that goes long on local craft brewers La Sirène and Hop Nation.
It’s a very, very wine-friendly menu. If you’re talking fizz, you could spend a whole night just working your way through the oyster and caviar section, or across the tasty little things listed as hors d’oeuvres, whether it’s pissaladière (Provence’s favourite little puff pastry and anchovy snack), or a perfect tart of nutty Comté cheese draped with a thin round of celeriac and showered with gratings of horseradish.
White wine? How about leeks roasted over the wood fire ’til they’re sweet and gooey, then scattered with hazelnuts? Or mud crab, picked by hand from the shell and delivered to you with green apple and baby cos lettuce?
If you’re eager to really push the boat out with a bottle of serious (or just fun) red, there’s plenty more action where that came from on the wood-fired grill. The steaks would be a good place to start, a list of beauties from up and down the east coast, some whoppers served to share (hello, the kilo of Blackmore wagyu rib-eye), while others are suited for the diner who likes their own thing (here’s looking at you, 180-gram Rangers Valley onglet). But, then, this is a French restaurant, so the duck is a thing – half a Great Ocean bird, with sugarloaf cabbage and a finger-lickin’ jus. In any case, don’t skip the chips – they are truly excellent.
