Japanese leaning with fine dining pretensions, is this what Perth is looking for right now?
Perth has quickly taken to The Royal, an upscale pub that cements John Parker as one of the city’s canniest operators. It’s sister restaurant Fleur feels like a much riskier, esoteric venture, and a more serious platform on which to demonstrate the talents of executive chef Chase Weber.
There is, I’d say, always room for singular Asian concepts or wider pan-Asian menus in the right hands; it’s very much where Perth’s tastes lay. But fine dining? A more difficult question, as is what constitutes it when paring down on everything is the current trajectory for many.
The dining room at Fleur is dark, from the carpets to the walls. Illuminated art – a lightbox of tropical parrots by Joseph McGlennon – shine, along with iPhone torches, as diners tackle the one-page menu. I’m all for mood lighting but when it’s dialed down so far that you burn battery life just to make your order I’d question what it does for the experience.
Fleur perth
The menu is tight. Just five each of what you’d maybe term as snack, entree and main plates, with four sides. There’s a palate cleanser from the kitchen to start, a fruit concoction served in a tiny glass teapot. Hints of the surreal, to match more art – a series of “flower heads” by artist Miguel Vallinas. In the low light I’m unsure whether to sip from the brim or drink from the spout. I take a dab on my finger and push it aside. Too sweet and not the start I’m looking for. Crisp puffs of tapioca starch are served as an amuse (a pretention to fine dining) with macadamia whip and small house pickles. A nice touch.
Katsu sando reads as a snack, the price denoted as MP (market price). Tonight’s cut I’m told is the top of the sirloin. There’s salt and fat, and crisp crumb in places, a rich layer of miso and Bull-Dog sauce (think Japanese BBQ sauce), the soft white bread soaking up fat and sauce. It’s an intersection of ingredients and texture that works as it should: delivering a bold dish to be shared and savoured quietly but for the odd satisfied groan. I’m dining alone, stifling those groans. A plate I’d come back for.
Fleur entree
Skull Island prawns deliver what you’d expect from what’s said to be Australia’s biggest prawns, caught in the Gulf of Carpentaria. Two to a plate, simply presented with chilli and brown vinegar they’ve thankfully let the produce do the talking. Torched beef tataki, however, says nothing of the finely cut beef, overdressed in a smoked housemade soy dressing.
Service is attentive, with a glint of fun even; there’s little of the drilled service you’d find in true fine dining. A case in point: at no point am I asked rhetorically whether I can be introduced to my next plate, before an enforced show and tell ensues. Questions are asked, questions are answered, albeit often with reference back to the kitchen. I ask whether the beef in the katsu sando is wagyu, such is the fat content, taste and its presence elsewhere on the menu. I’m initially told they think not, before a later correction. I’d think that servers would at least know the provenance of a dish sold at market price; often a crafty vehicle for restaurateurs to denote exclusivity and a bump in price that many don’t ask before ordering. $24 as it goes.
Octopus from the Abrolhos islands, off the Mid West coast of WA, embodies a mantra of let the product do the talking. In the past I’ve thought Weber’s food, at times, to be pushed too far: preened not pared back. But the octopus, presented as two large tentacles, excellently cooked, charred and draped with nori sheets is a masterstroke.
Clumsily presented tiny teapots and palate cleansers are pure frippery. They detract from what’s blooming at Fleur: a grown-up city dining room, with good service, their Asian-inspired menu driven by the vim and vigour of the modern Australian kitchen.