Restaurant Botanic, Adelaide

I will readily admit that in my late 20s and early 30s, I was a badge collector. Not ones you pin to your chest, no instead it was visiting restaurants festooned with Michelin Stars, often because I really wanted to see how creative the Chef really was, but all too often because of a company who entwined tyres and food had rated them. I wondered if someone might make Sous Vide radials with a slick (see what I did there) of something and a foam of something else, but never did that day come.

It’s not like I’ve gone cold turkey since. Readers of this site or my twitter feed will have seen me at similar places. There’s an in-depth review The French Laundry on this site which remains my best meal ever. But going because it has a star or more particularly, because it has a tasting menu, has become secondary. Here’s the thing with tasting menus; I love them because you get to see the skill and creativity of a kitchen, but at the same time, you have to be in the right frame of mind to enjoy them. The quantity of food can be problematic with some feeling like they need another meal (not me) or so stuffed that a waffer thin mint would be the end of them; very much me given how rich they always are. They are an investment in time. You are going to be at the table for 3+ hours in most cases so make sure you really want to spend that long talking to the people around you. And let’s face it, they aren’t cheap but get the right one and they are phenomenal value, that being in the eye of the beholder.

Against all of this, I found myself with a spare evening in Adelaide. I had known in advance that I’d have a spare evening so I spent time online working out where to eat. There was no shortage of choice, but I found myself returning time and again to the Restaurant Botanic website. This was something different. Set in the midst of Adelaide’s Botanical Gardens with ingredients sourced from the grounds and around Australia, it had won Gourmet Traveller’s Australian restaurant of the year in 2022 and remained the winner in South Australia 2023. With Justin James at the helm, this was just one of many accolades showered on the restaurant. Note, Justin James has now left Restaurant Botanic and a new Executive Chef, Jamie Musgrave has taken over stewardship of the kitchen.

I had never experienced a tasting menu by myself. Any concern that I would be sitting at a table with an unused place opposite me was quickly extinguished by discovering they had a U shaped bar counter around the open kitchen, perfect for the solo diner.

No, not a scene from Crimewatch

A brisk walk made brisker by failing to appreciate that the main gates to the gardens would be shut by the time I needed to use them. Round the gardens to find the one remaining entrance.

Restaurant Botanic menu and Botanic wine pairing, 16th May 2024.

Note, many of the items on the ‘trail’ were served in groups to form a course.

On arrival I was asked if I needed to leave by a certain time. No I did not. With that, my meal was perfectly paced as someone kept an eye on where I was up to, course by course, noting that I was taking pictures and writing a few notes here and there. What follows below are my verbatim notes, but typed so that you don’t have to decipher my handwriting / purple scrawl (delete as applicable). I wanted a balance of enjoying what I ate, taking great photos and making a note of the first thing that came to mind as I savoured each bite. If they don’t make sense, then I apologise. If perhaps you were expecting a pun or two, this post will be an outlier. (Equally, this might be your favourite post for the same reason). If you’re wondering why they sound like arrant nonsense, well, then, you must be new here.

Arriving 5 minutes later than planned called for a Negroni as I sat down. It hit all the right notes with a spike of Mezcal giving it an interesting twist. Moments later, the garden flower and green ants arrived. The edible part being on the yellow flower to the left.

A gummy sour apple but polen sweetness infused by the nasturtium on which it sat.

Scallop fatty and unctuous. Spice melts in. A zing of lime to refresh. Capers that punch sweet and salty.

Pinot Bianco cuts through the fat and spice to refresh.

Oyster: Smoke, sea and sweet.

Abalini thick but the juniper cuts through. Green strips with a lobster texture, a fresh Atlantic cod flavour along with the colour green. This is what green tastes like.

Rias Baixas is pears and cream. Almost Rhone like

Tuna: lively meaty slices enriched with nuts that that don’t compete but instead add depth. Just enough lime to keep you on your toes.

Cod sabayon: Wibble wibble. My mind thinks sweet, it’s hit with the sea, salt and a clean line of cod.

Potato ice cream with caviar: If crisps were ice cream this is what they would be. The caviar adding a decadence that it probably doesn’t need but hey, every tasting menu needs some caviar.

Lick the rock: I did as I was told. Now there’s a pinball machine in my mouth with cod roe, herbs and something crunchy all vying for attention

Chenin Blanc: Waxy, nutty almost fatty.

Roo (Yes, Kanagroo. No, not Skippy): Dense and buttery but without overfacing. Kelp assisted with richness

Mammolo: Refreshingly fruity. Acidic zing.

Crocodile: What I imagine a fish, meat hybrid to be. But is that my mind making assumptions? More honey than garum so it’s sweeter than I was expecting. The garum is playing a bit part and could punch up.

Sake: A perfect example. Smooth, holds its own but then hits Ctrl+Alt+Del to let you take the next bite

Marron: Sweet, wonderfully fresh with the slight spikiness seafood this good can bring. Emphasised by the myrtle which almost feels medicinal.

Marron donut: Light and fluffy, pairing nicely with clam butter and (Woah oh Black Betty!) clam jam

Deviation Road Brut: The fizz ate the spikes but played nicely with all the subtle flavours. Really drinkable by itself

The best seat in the house. Perfectly timed choreography in action.

Emu: Blue cheese notes of carefully dry aged beef.

Mushroom and black garlic: Two strong flavours with flat palms to high-five not clenched fists to fight

Chateau Musar: Fruit forward with some zing

Duck: Brittle glass skin cracks to yielding big, rambunctious flesh

Duck leg and emu skewer: On a bone that looks like a Rod, Hull-o this is great combination though the emu got lost at the end.

Garden liquor: Evokes memories of Badedas. Refreshing after a lot of big flavours.

Pear sorbet and whisky sabayon: The pear was giving the whisky a good run for it’s money, but it came off second. Flower dipper was a strange sensation

So many small pops of flavour as a final flourish. The whole finger lime (bottom left) was the perfect final slap to the face to punctuate an evening of new flavours and combinations.

Furmint: Sugar sugar and then a salty finish

Four and half hours later, I left. With a broad grin and an even broader education in local ingredients. This was a show, an experience and one where you might note, there was barely any cutlery. I felt involved with my food.

The service was impeccable with each dish and glass explained brilliantly, questions answered and enthusiasm imparted.