Off the Beaten Track

24/12/2008

Historic Redesdale and rabbit pie lure Bob Hart out of the city.

The Redesdale
Expect to pay $55 a head plus wine for three courses.

It's the old story: one door closes and, before too many tears have been shed and/or teeth gnashed, another door opens. In this case, the door that closed had provided access to an admirable little CBD restaurant called De Lacy that came and went earlier this year. And the door that opened takes us fortuitously into The Redesdale, an equally good and more urgently needed restaurant, happily and surprisingly positioned in a tiny country pub.

Our directions were precise enough: hurtle up the Calder, take the Kyneton exit and swing right, following the signs towards Heathcote. In 25 km, provided you remember not to blink, you will detect the village of Redesdale, population very few. And when you do, you will be outside a single-level, 1850s bluestone pub. The only one in the village as it happens. Fight your way through the public bar where one, possibly two, locals may be sinking very cold beers in a bid to loosen the dust eaten in the course of a day's work. And there before you is the dining room- modestly allured but warm and welcoming, with seating for about 45. But if stumbling into this place is surprising, the elegance, excellence and seasonality of the food, you will discover, is even more so.

Consider this: I began with asparagus, as I often do at this time of year. But on this occasion, the thin, green, locally grown stalks has been lightly steamed, touched with truffled oil, topped with a crumbed, soft-poached egg and draped generously in a frothy, walnut emulsion. And though I can't even begin to imagine how one might crumb, a soft poached egg, the effort was enhancing: the seasoned golden crumbs added texture to the crisp, green stalks while the runny yolk blended with the emulsion to provide a miraculous sauce. My mate, meanwhile, was wallowing in offal as happily as a pig wallows in the proverbial- dispatching meltingly tenders silvers of poached veal tongue topped with golden nuggets of crisped sweetbreads, all of it resting on a smear of impeccable salsa verde. But look, how this could be: food of distinction in Redesdale? Until that morning, I'd never even heard of Redesdale...

Call me old-fashioned, but when I see wild rabbit pie made with leek and sage served with silky mash and a perfect gravy on a menu, I need look no further.
Chef Daniel Whelan makes his own puff pastry with only the finest butter, thereby doing justice to the extra flavour of these hounding bunnies, harvested from adjacent paddocks by a local game dealer called, I kid you not, Peter Rabbit. Magnificent, and a fine excuse for progressing to the house red. My mate, however, had ordered the roasted free-range chicken: local, of course, jointed, roasted, and served with pancetta, basil gnocchi and a glorious jus. The standard, naturally, was maintained through pudding: my mate's chocolate terrine topped with summer berries and cleverly frosted pistachios was a thing of considerable beauty. As indeed, was my house-made vanilla yoghurt (recipe below), served in a glass cup and groaning under the weight of roasted stone fruits and an almond crumble. Mine was a dessert, in fact, that pretty much summarises the entire experience: the silky yoghurt was house-made, the stone fruit local, the almond crumble ingenious.

My mate and I were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves- delighted to discover that the brilliant food the operators of this place, Dean Bamford and the talented Whelan, had delivered in their short stay in Melbourne's De Lacy earlier this year, had survived the journey and more. And when we finally left, some hours later, and drove back to the Calder- through Heathcote this time, by way of a change- we were feeling replete, strangely contented, and pleased at having made the journey. I fully intend to travel north and eat there again, very soon.

What we drank
The wine list here celebrates local production as vigorously as does the menu. Which means very vigorously indeed. In fact, every wine on the list is local; all offer excellent value and examples of some very fine winemaking. And if you find something you like, chances are you can drive there after lunch and pick up a few more bottles at the cellar door. We began with the rich and delectable '06 McIvor Estate marsanne-roussane from Tooborac, just down the road towards Heathcote.
It's a ripper of a white for a realistic $8 a glass, $40 a bottle. And from there, we zoned in on the stylish '03 Redesdale cabernets - a fine example of the classical red blend- and a steal at $12 a glass, $60 a bottle.

Whelan's hand crafted yoghurt
Chef Daniel Whelan is a master of simple, wholesome digestible dishes, made with hand-crafted components. Whelan makes his own puff pastry, for example. And his own biscuits that he serves with cheese. And best of all, he makes his own silky vanilla yoghurt for glorious summer desserts. Here's how (6 portions):
Soak 2 leaves gelatine in cold water.
Mix, in pot, 500ml whole milk, 175ml unthickened, pouring cream (Whelan uses organic milk and cream), 65g caster sugar and two vanilla beans, split.
Heat to 90C, remove gelatine from cold water and squeeze, then add to mixture.
Stir to dissolve, cool to 45C, add 1 tsp frozen yoghurt culture (Whelan obtains his from Cheeselinks at Little River).
Rest yoghurt mixture in warm place for 4 hours, strain into bowls in which you intent to serve it and chill 12 hours.
Top with roasted, seasonal stone fruit, fresh berries or similar, and toasted almond slivers.