How many more high-end restaurants does Melbourne really need?
As families start subbing out beef for beans in the weekly shop, I wonder who’s really bumping caviar or forking out almost $400 for steak on a weeknight.
Yet plenty of restaurants still do this, including new kid on the block The Frog Club.
This is the first restaurant by the team behind South Yarra’s pleasant but pretentious cafe, Gilson.
The Frog Club isn’t quite this fussy, yet it’s taking a page out of the Chris Lucas restaurant playbook with chest-beating prestige.
Unlike its predecessor, Morris Jones, the Chapel St venue has an unassuming street facade, black curtains at the entry, a bouncer at the door, and not many favourable dinner reservation spots on weekends between 5pm and 9pm.
It’s certainly been cleaned up since its Morris Jones days, with three distinct eating spaces depending on your mood.
The dapper main dining room, filled with cosy leather-booth nooks and a mix of long-reaching and smaller round tables, the courtyard with a red glow and retractable roof, and the sleek gold bar where I find myself tonight. There’s also another bar upstairs to start or finish the meal.
The restaurant doesn’t seem as busy as you’d expect, given how near impossible it was to nab a 6pm or 6.30pm booking, which is not a bad thing.
Service is sharp and efficient, with some old hat hospo pros understanding the assignment for a restaurant at this price point.
I’m not waiting long for something in my glass, though I spend a while picking my jaw up from the floor when I see the prices.
Of the 30 by-the-glass wines, only eight cost less than $20. The most expensive? $175. Yes, that is for red Burgundy. Champagne isn’t far behind, with some bottles costing as much as a return ticket to France.
Former Botswana Butchery and Victor Churchill chef Angel Fernandez is calling the shots here – drawing from his experience at New York’s Dante with what’s thrust over the woodfire grill.
That’s the showpony here, and boy oh boy will you pay for it.
The snacks are also up there, with some better than others. Frog Club signature caviar tart ($26 each), brilliant. The lobster roll ($21), under seasoned. Clam empanada ($11), cheesy and chewy.
On the other end of the scale, the gloriously salty and cheesy gougere puffs ($7 each), soft as a whisper, filled with luscious comte curd and topped with wagyu bresaola. More please.
The crab gratin, for an eye-popping $42, was so light it reminded me of the Japanese savoury egg custard chawanmushi. Here sweet spanner crab does the work, in a creamy crab bisque topped with golden breadcrumb and parmesan gravel. Big yum.
There are many ways to tackle the larger shares, but the main way is with money. Lots of it. It’s 280 big ones for a cold seafood platter or $380 for 1kg of bone-in wagyu rib steak.
Though the cheapish cheeseburger ($32) would suffice – it’s seriously good and, while not the best I’ve had around town, would go down a treat after a big night out.
You must try the roasted duck ($60), with crisp and fine bubble-wrap skin, perfectly rendered fat and pink sunset sky centre. Easily one of my favourite things eaten this year.
If you’re really looking to max the card, the DIY Frog Club sundae is charged by the scoop ($6 each), toppings ($4) and sauces ($4) – a financial recipe for disaster for big kids.
The Frog Club shoots for the stars, but lands somewhere I can only define as Society lite.
I had a blast, most of the food was great, but the price is something to croak about.