FOOD & WINE
BROOKE ST LARDER
Ground floor, Brooke St Pier, Hobart Open daily, 8am–3pm. Licensed. 6225 6932 M ussels, crabs and perhaps even crayfish are among the marine menagerie lurking beneath the Brooke St Pier development in Hobart. I read with interest recently that a new ecosystem had established itself beneath the floating shed, which also houses Mona’s ferry terminal, a range of pop-up style shops peddling Tassie wares and two top-deck eateries in Aloft and the Glass House.
Perched beneath the Glass House – just above said ecosystem – is the much more casual and wallet-friendly Brooke St Larder. Boasting “Downton Abbey downstairs” decor and a providore, it shares an executive chef in David Ball with its upper-glass neighbour and a distinctly Tasmanian menu.
We visit on a sunny weekday, when the temperature is expected to hit the low 30s and there’s yet another cruise ship in town. Hobart is at her sparkling best, with the waterfront the perfect place to sit and catch a breeze. After a warm welcome, we are encouraged to take a seat wherever we like. We step through to the covered deck outside and grab a table a few steps away from the River Derwent.
It’s 12.20pm and some lucky folk are heading off down the river on their yacht. A helicopter buzzes overhead and a crew of workers clad in high-vis is hard at work preparing nearby Princes Wharf for the Taste of Tasmania festival, which is just weeks away.
Within minutes a waitress with a delightful French accent takes our order. I ask for the Derwent Estate rosé. “A bottle?” she asks with a cheeky smile. “Just a glass,” I reply, and my companion orders the same.
Three grey-haired ladies are doing lunch nearby, while a pair of 40-somethings sip beers on a comfortable lounge directly behind them. One of two women at a neighbouring table waxes lyrical about her trip to Santiago. The other counters with a tale of a day trip to Florence from the ancient walled city of Lucca in Italy.
As much as I love earwigging, I am infinitely more interested in lunch. When our friend from France returns with our wine, we order the local five-spiced calamari and the Tasmanian stockman’s platter.
The calamari lands first. It’s tender inside a light and golden coating, but I struggle to detect much of the advertised spice. Mixed leaves, thinly sliced radish and shaved fennel complete a satisfying light lunch, drizzled with a sweet red shallot dressing and scattered with black and white sesame seeds.
The platter is more substantial. Served on a long wooden board, it boasts cured meats including salami and prosciutto, as well as Sicilian olives, relish, pesto, pickled carrot with mustard seeds, a triangle of sharp cheddar and creamy preserved cloves of garlic. I valiantly help my companion demolish the lot, nibbling on prosciutto-wrapped grissini, and topping the lavosh with chunks of relish-smeared cheese.
It’s certainly a welcome change from my usual workday lunch of a hastily made sandwich from my own kitchen, more often than not scoffed at my desk, or a banh mi from the cheap and cheerful Vietnamese Pho at Battery Point.
As we leave, the Mona Roma ferry is preparing to drop off yet another load of culturally enlightened tourists, and more visitors are lined up dockside to take the next trip out. Looking in envy at those living a life of leisure, I wish I could delay my return to work a little longer to finish off that bottle of wine. C’est la vie.