CATCH OF THE DAY

PHAT FISH 61 Salamanca Pl, Hobart Open daily from 11am-late; kitchen open from 11.30am-10pm daily. 6245 3874

Phat and happy” reads the neon sign on the wall in one of the newest arrivals on the Salamanca restaurant/bar strip. It’s early on a Thursday evening and Phat Fish is full to the bream, if you’ll pardon the pun. Although I had called ahead to book a table, it’s pretty hard to catch the attention of the two staff run ragged behind the bar. We wait and wait some more before growing tired and nabbing the only remaining table, which also happens to be sporting a “reserved” sign.

It’s a banquette seat and high-chair affair in a revamped space that for many years housed the Vietnamese Kitchen, which shut down its bain-marie only a few months ago. Thankfully, a very good Vietnamese joint is located nearby in Montpelier Retreat, so those in dire need of a good pho don’t have too far to go. And, in a nostalgic touch, there’s a VK “tribute laksa” on the Phat menu.

The once nondescript interior now boasts a polished concrete floor, glass pendant lighting, dark ceiling and dark wooden tables, with herringbone aqua tiles on the bar providing a pop of colour.

Partner Robert Jubb – who’s also GM at Customs House Hotel – recently told the

the new venue aimed to provide a “good quality casual feed” highlighting local produce and good craft beer.

Noticing numbers on sticks on the surrounding tables, we realise this is an order-at-the-bar eatery and so quickly peruse the menu.

“It’s going to be a 30 or 35-minute wait,” the friendly but clearly harried young chap informs me as he takes my order above the din of six tradie-looking types buying pints of craft beer as they too consider their dining options. “Sorry, there are a lot of people here.”

Unperturbed, I place an order and grab a couple of glasses of pinot gris to soften the wait. In the interim we discover we are sitting at a table set for six, not just we three. But the problem is solved with minimal fuss. The gaggle of six 20-something girls who eventually arrive settle for a more intimate booth towards the back. And, just as the young man promised, our food begins to arrive just as the wine starts to run out.

First to land are three tennis-ball-sized fish croquettes, crispy crumb coated on the outside and filled with a fishy ragu reminiscent of my all-time favourite bitterballen – a Dutch meat-based croquette particularly prized by my Hague-born other half. Like bitterballen on steroids, they sit atop a generous dollop of aioli and are sprinkled with curiously delicate edible flowers.

Eschewing the battered asparagus, we also enjoy the warm asparagus salad with walnuts and parmesan. It’s heavy on rocket and light on asparagus, but what is present is lightly charred and delicious. Next come the pan-seared scallops, panko-crumbed fish and chips, and a soft-shell crab burger, the latter also served with fat crispy chips.

My uni student niece, who’s a born-again Novocastrian, has been looking forward to some Tassie scallops on her semester break. She’s a tad dismayed when presented with just three scallops atop potato rounds on a cauliflower and parsnip puree. It’s accompanied by a few slices of chargrilled bread and a slice of lemon. While tasty, it’s a far smaller portion than a much more refined scallop and cauliflower dish we enjoyed a few weeks earlier at Brother Mine.

But we have many more chips than we can handle and the Dutchman is happy to share his pink ling. The soft-shell crab, encased in a soft white bun, is well executed but a little overwhelmed by cajun mayo, which oozes out all over my hands.

By the time the uni student has demolished all but a handful of chips, the tradie blokes are beginning to get rowdy – perhaps fuelled by a mountain of onion rings. The 20-somethings are chatting away and a table of tourists are ordering another round of beers.

While my niece would probably be content to stay on with the predominantly younger crowd, we’re ready to depart Phat (and reasonably happy).