AN AFTERNOON AT BACCHUS

Having opened in October, 2012, Bacchus truly radiates that sophisticated-yet-casual Southbank charm. Bacchus is luxurious, modern and chic, but with LA-based interior designer, Tracey Beckmann, behind the look and feel of the place, the result is hardly surprising but very impressive. The dark, polished wood and gleaming gold provide a sort of Parisian feel inside. Step outside, and onto the open poolside to which pops of colour come from cushions and small furnishings. I imagine that this space fills easily with gentlemen wearing Ray-Bans and women draped in colourful kaftans, all enjoying an array of sophisticated share plates, and drinks from the extensive beverages list.

With word of Bacchus’ fine cocktails in mind it was easy to feel overwhelmed by each quality option, so the waiter suggested the Aurum Tea for two - a mix of vodka, Havana Club 3 Anos, cointreau, tequila and passionfruit tea, served with Coca-cola. We were told it’s the Bacchus take on a Long Island Iced Tea, and what a refreshing take it was! The zingy yet subtle chilled passionfruit tea made the Aurum Tea perfect to enjoy as the sun peeked between rolling clouds and we waited for our food, which soon arrived.

On paper, the menu seems full of simple dishes, though they are anything but. Each dish has a solid foundation, with surprising quirks that make them memorable. Take, for example, the grilled chorizo with romesco, a dish that turned my mind’s eye on it’s head. The char-grilled chorizo, accompanied by a quenelle of velvety mashed potato, marries wonderfully with the neatly piped globes of smooth, smokey, flavoursome romesco sauce (of which they provide just enough). 

In speaking of just enough, the meatballs with capers, garlic and parmesan were well balanced. The combination of three strong, salty flavours worked well thanks to the tomato sauce atop those little meatballs. Along with the fries, these meatballs provided an intermission, of sorts, between two total stand-out dishes that represent typical Brisbane dining at it's best; that is innovative and produce-focused meals. 

Our final dish reminded me that good food means that you've enjoyed a dish so much that you wish you'd ordered two of it… and you sit back contemplating whether to order another serve. Introducing, the lamb chips with gribiche mayonnaise. They were too intriguing to resist, almost too good to share, and definitely left me wanting more. But, lamb chips? I had to ask too, so let me explain. Lamb chips are sticks of slow-cooked lamb, encased in crispy golden shells which are accompanied by a tangy gribiche mayonnaise. I was briefly reminded of eating fish fingers with tartare sauce as a kid, but it's fair to say that lamb chips are far superior and definitely more age-appropriate. 

Bacchus' innovative yet simple style is reflected throughout each aspect of the restaurant and injected into the menu, and this place is sure to grow more and more comfortable in its ever-developing skin that is Southbank.

Bacchus
Cnr Grey & Glenleg Streets
Southbank, Queensland


Note: Ell & guest were hosted by Bacchus for this experience.

IN SEASON

The artisan era 

Salami isn't seasonal, but it is definitely in. On the weekend, I made my way into Brisbane city to explore the Good Food and Wine Show. While wandering around I made the glorious mistake of entering 'Cheese Alley'. The Bruny Island, Ashgrove and High Valley cheeses stood up to their reputation, but it was the salami's nearby that truly impressed me.

The landjaeger from Barossa Fine Foods, the droewor from Springbok Foods, and the salsiccia sarda from Salumi Australia made me realise how far sausages, salami and the Australian food industry has come. They may be small producers, but that is part of the charm. We've moved on from the days when sausages were made from the ugly pieces nobody else used, and entered an era of artisan production and conscious consumerism.

As one who is quite wary of the horrors hiding within supermarket-bought sausages, I tried a shaving of landjaeger, and was pleasantly surprised. The cured sausage encases a collage of pork meat and specks of fat. The man from the Barossa tells me the intricate details of this sausage's creation, but I phase out while the fat melts away and compliments the subtly sweet, aromatic pork. He cuts a sliver of another cured sausage and hands a piece to everyone crowded around his little booth. Upon the first chew, it is a delicately spiced pork salami. Just as the man says that this sausage has been sweetened with brandy, it hits me. That sweet, fruity aftertaste makes itself welcome and cradles the little pieces of pork meat as I enjoy it a little longer. 

There is something special about meeting the people who create the products. You learn about where it all comes from, identify unique touches, and most importantly, you feel this appreciation for food that cannot be pulled out of a vacuum-sealed packet. It's wonderful to see these little producers sharing their work with a marvel-struck crowd.