PUNKED IN PARADISE

It boasts the latest in liquid alchemy and an expensive fitout, but is Australia’s first authentic steampunk venue a well-oiled machine?

STEAMPUNK SURFERS PARADISE

LEVEL 1, 3113 SURFERS PARADISE BOULEVARD

5538 1650

Daily from 11am – late Steampunk Surfers Paradise must get a lot of runners.

It’s the only explanation I can come up with for having to hand over my driver’s licence before I order my meal. The requested ransom is held behind the bar until you settle the bill at the end, or you can choose to pay upfront as you go.

I’ve never come across a policy like this in a casualdining context and it’s not the most auspicious introduction to what they say is Australia’s first authentic steampunk venue.

Fortunately, chirpy service goes some way to soothing ruffled feathers, as does a sizeable refreshment list (although the ratty paper menus could do with a spruce up). The wine list is broadly appealing, but boundarypushing cocktails are the house specialty. My cauldroncoloured Sticky Riddle (Vanilla Galliano, fireball, caramel and fig) hisses and bubbles around its speared-apple and cinnamon centrepiece.

I stared at the blood-orange garnish topping the Amarettobased Pegasus Rage waiting for it to do something. It didn’t.

Underwhelming when one of the listed ingredients is “science”, but it did taste good.

While the cocktail presentation wasn’t as innovative or interactive as the theme led me to expect, the premium pricetag was reflected in the potency.

The food is, quite simply, a genius support act for Steampunk’s liquid assets.

It’s an accessibly priced and generously portioned collection of cravings and those as weak-willed as me will find themselves easily led into a fried fest, albeit one at the better-quality end of the spectrum.

Everything – starters and mains – was delivered to the table at once. Our food-comainducing spread included porkand-prawn-stuffed potstickers ($14), croquettes crammed with cheesy pork ($12) and crab and corn risotto balls with chipotle mayo ($12).

The fat, rough-cut chips soaked up more of their loaded cheese and bacon-bit goodness than a flimsier fry ($11). We tunnelled down to find treasure: huge chunks of blue cheese.

Some green things (spinach and fried sage) were sighted in the house-made gnocchi – lovely little pillows bunking down with haloumi. This chef likes cheese as much as I do.

Of course, you could make more mature dining decisions, including local snapper fillet on lemon and zucchini risotto ($26) or hearty lamb shanks ($27.90).

As you may have gathered by now, the menu is not authentic to the Victorian-era – a pretty good call, really.

Instead it’s the fitout that does most of the talking and does it well, from gleaming copper cladding to an exposed ceiling alive with moving parts.

In case you were wondering, I was way too full to do a runner.