Review: The Mayflower

But then there were the power lunches: high-end dining in the middle of the day, drinking just enough to get you through to after five without tipping off the boss. Of course we order Chardonnay first. The Mayflower’s classic prawn cocktail is as far from memories of barely thawed scampi and insipid iceberg lettuce as possible. This is served in the most fabulous retro glass, complete with house-made dressing, lemon, and crisp leaves of baby gem lettuce. All of this sits on a paper doily (but I’m drawing a tawdry line right about here). Steak tartar with classic condiments is as pretty on the plate as raw beef and egg yolk can be. The meat is seasoned ever so lightly, and wholegrain mustard adds robust tartness. Fried onions add crunch and texture, too often missed in tartar. Duck and tangerine pie looks too good to miss and arrives fresh from the oven, sitting in a shallow reduction, with a side of roasted shallots. The delicate pastry is all kinds of good and the filling is a stew of wondrous flavour, with a good hit of citrus balanced by sweetness from generous pieces of duck. A side of barely roasted Brussels sprouts with speck and chestnuts swim in a buttery sauce, slightly woody but pleasant, and the perfect addition to forkfuls of pastry. In the 80s there was another poultry dish at the height of culinary prominence: chicken Kiev. This was one of the first grown-up dishes I mastered in my youth. That precarious balance, peering into the oven to ensure that it was cooked to the perfect brownness but not so much that the garlic butter escaped from the centre. A burnt base stuck to the pan the ultimate disaster. But today there is no chicken Kiev. My inner 12-year-old cries a little on the inside. Instead, a salt grilled salmon fillet with nori, rice and Japanese seasoning. A nod to the introduction of Japanese cuisine to the western diet around the time, perhaps. This is an example of the best kind of reinvention. A crispy strip of salmon fillet sits aside rice wrapped in a cucumber ribbon. A piece of deep fried salmon crackling is perched on top. Below, a sweet sticky soy syrup ties the flavours of the dish together. Finally, a dessert trolley laden with all kinds of mouthwatering retro treats is wheeled across the dining room floor. Choux pastry swans filled with fresh cream sits gracefully next to tiramisu and trifle. Slices of decadent chocolate torte topped with fresh raspberries tower over chocolate mousse. Wine-soaked pears with skirts of toasted meringue showcase the artistry of a talented pastry chef. We settle on just three, served tableside by the most adorable waitress. The ultimate crème caramel is silky and has a light caramel sweetness without being sickly. A slice of layered chocolate gateaux melts in the mouth and added honeycomb is teeth-sticking decent, but the May flower’s Tiramisu is ultimate proof that classic dishes don’t need to stay the same. Whipped co ffee cream atop delicate sponge is sprinkled with cocoa of the finest quality, the subtle flavours a far cry from packet sponge fingers soaked in too much instant espresso. The Mayfair Hotel’s restaurant has defiantly revived the best of decades past with reinvented dishes and a much improved drinks list. Let’s call it nostalgic fusion, entwined with upper class service and a touch of elegance. But for now it’s back to work. The Mayflower 45 King William Street mayfairhotel.com.au/may flowerrestaurant-and-bar