From Here By Mike

Docklands: meh. A hotel restaurant: must we? Touting a sustainability mission: greenwashing, surely. But then you settle into a deep, linen-covered banquette and feel yourself at ease with the light-filled, plant-trimmed space by the water.

The first page of the menu is a map of Victoria dotted with farmers who feature. In Gippsland, Vintage Beef supplies the hero of your steak frites, a 200-gram scotch fillet that’s charred on a wood grill but still as tender as young love. Meredith Dairy’s goats are to thank for the singular tang of the cheese souffle, but it’s the chefs who create that golden crust that shields the rippling curds inside.

Spanking-fresh fish sliced for crudo – sometimes marlin, others snapper – is laid like a stack of precious dominoes in a pool of jewel-green onion oil and smoked ponzu. If there’s octopus or a vegetable dish touched by the fire, order it. This kitchen can handle the heat.

Staff are well-drilled in the needs of all kinds of diners, from hotel guests to business lunchers, and help to subvert expectations of what hotel dining can be.

Good to know: Weekday lunch deals, including $35 mains, are a steal for the quality.

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