HOT TO TROT
A Paddington bistro goes the whole hog with French classics and pub vibes, writes KARLIE VERKERK.
Until now, vol-au-vents have been the stuff of nightmares for me. Loaded with claggy béchamel sauce studded with tinned tuna and corn, they were a typical mid-week meal growing up – and I’d feign a mystery illness every time.
But there’s no need at Porcine. Here, the passé puff-pastry case has been elevated to contemporary heights with delicate chunks of scallop and sweet braised fennel. A decadent Champagne sauce pools underneath, like a moat around a fancy French château.
The reincarnated vol-au-vent is just one example of the confident cooking you can expect to find at Paddington’s latest arrival. Brought to you by an all-star cast – Nik Hill (The Old Fitz), Harry Levy (Don Peppino’s) and Matt Fitzgerald (Solotel Group) – the bistro fuses French classics with British pub vibes above a bottle shop by P&V Merchants.
The casual dining room, complete with roaring fireplace and an eclectic collection of art, feels just as welcoming in the day as it does at night. And while the changing menu may seem slightly intimidating on paper (or chalkboard) – chopped tongue, black pudding, chicken hearts – it’s the exact opposite on the palate. Take the calves’ shin, snail and garlic pie, for example, which is impaled with a hollandaise-filled bone. Once the sauce and rich, meaty filling is mixed together, you quickly realise the snails are there for texture not shock factor. Same goes for a whole roasted flathead, served with its head to the side. When deep-fried, it becomes an incredible fish cracker – not to mention, it’s zero waste.
But the real stars of the show are the porky plates. Suffice to say, Porcine is an altar for the humble swine. One artwork reads: Tout est bon dans l’cochon! (Everything is good in the pig!), and it couldn’t be more true. Hill is breaking down one Berkshire pig carcass a week from Dubbo’s Extraordinary Pork to create all manner of snout-to-trotter delights, such as jambon maison (house ham served with vibrant tarragon mustard), pork cretons (a rustic farmhouse pâté; not for the meek), or very approachable côtes de porc (chops).
For a guy whose craft is charcuterie, Hill’s desserts are truly superb. There’s a classic crème brûlée, its nicely bitter, almost burnt sugared top balancing the sweet custard beneath. Escorting it, a warm Madeira-spiked savarin that hits you with a boozy punch. A lighter but no less decadent offering is a buoyant Îles flottantes (floating islands) draped in tart passionfruit pulp. It’s appropriately set in a retro jelly mould and portioned to order as a quarter, half or full serve.
Grab a bottle on your way in and don’t be afraid to go the whole hog. ●