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If you’re lucky enough to be an overnight guest at Ballarat’s elegant Hotel Vera, you’ll find yourself wandering into its restaurant Babae upon waking. In the mornings, sunlight streams in through wall-to-wall windows and the airy dining room’s chatter and clatter of breakfast invites you in.
Come lunch and dinner however, Babae gently shapeshifts into a sophisticated fine diner for hyperlocal Australian cuisine. Available to both hotel guests and external patrons, it’s not at all one of those ultra-contemporary restaurants where the degustation is a flex in molecular innovation or service is stiff in its formality. Sure, there’s a dish that features foam, and you’ll see some fancy plating decisions. But for the most part, Babae’s vibe is approachable high-end dining that toes the line between creativity and comfort – and gets it just right.
I’ve chosen the seasonal multi-course dinner experience ($190) on my visit. Lightly entertained by projection art illuminating a wall in the darkness outside, I’m eased into the night with a glass of bubbles from Mitchell Harris: the 2019 Sabre, a blend of chardonnay and pinot noir from Macedon, Henty and the Pyrenees. It’s the winery’s flagship drop and a smart pairing with the snacks to follow.
A creamy mushroom parfait arrives packaged in an upright pastry cigar topped with pickled quince from the owners’ farm in Sedgewick. Along its timorous passage to my mouth, a hardy pumpernickel canoe hugs precious gems of smoked Tuki trout, Yarra Valley roe and dill. And while both are pleasing to the eye and tongue, it’s the third (and perhaps simplest) snack I like best: a gougère filled with Long Paddock’s stunning Bluestone cheese, dusted with a sour sherbert-like snow of dehydrated kale. It’s a sensational bite, and its mild, lactic tang enlivens the brioche and white floras in my bubbles.
Babae on a wintry Thursday night is quiet, just a smattering of other couples seated nearby me – the sole solo diner. But our hostess is a warm guide to the evening and I find myself feeling cosy and looked after, even having a chat with the other guests who are Ballarat locals. It strikes me that if most fine diners align with masculine-leaning ‘yang’ principles: hard angles, bold flavours, clean and sharp lines, then Babae yawns softly into feminine-leaning ‘yin’ territory: shades of wood and whites, earthy, familiar flavours and – as it happens – cross-table conversation.
The rest of the dinner is immensely satisfying. A sort of deconstructed soup comes with mushroom foam, Jerusalem artichoke crisps, caramelised onion and a buttery-rich chestnut puree, which I’m instructed to emulsify with the aid of a coddled egg. It’s a fun, elevated take on a comforting winter soup.
You can tell a lot about a place by how it serves its bread – and safe to say, Babae takes it to the next level. The generous loaf arrives warm in a soft terracotta-hued pocket, served with black salt and dehydrated vegemite-speckled butter. A pale green dish of smoked yoghurt and radish bulbs adds a refreshing element to the spread.
Next, the table is graced with a pair of Abrolhos Island scallops; these chunky beauties are slightly charred from the grill and served with thin curls of guanciale from Salt Kitchen, celeriac and wood sorrel. The salt-baked kohlrabi and burnt orange sauce makes for the perfect accompaniment. I don’t normally use a spoon to try and scoop two millilitres of sauce off a plate (and then give up and use a finger instead), but here’s a dish so good it makes me forget my table manners.
In an era when starters and snacks are often more appealing than a dinner’s much-anticipated stars, I’m surprised to find the highlight of Babae is indeed the main meal. Looking starkly dramatic and not unlike something you might see from the film The Menu, my plate of Central Highlands corn-fed duck is a masterpiece – both aesthetically and gastronomically.
The marbled breast meat has been so evenly and beautifully cooked, it appears glistening and jewel-like, especially alongside the bright red pops of Tasmanian wolf berries and preserved plum sauce. An unexpected delight on the plate is a Savoy cabbage parcel of pearl barley and duck thigh meat. It’s like a fancified dim sim, and it goes with my Ballarat pinot noir from Tomboy Hill a treat.
The restaurant isn’t without a few snags, of course. I’m a little cold at one stage and note that others have been offered blankets. It’s hard to care about the temperature when you’re digging your fork into a dessert comprising a Harcourt pink lady apple, milk chocolate ganache, salted caramel, pistachios and cardamom ice cream – but still. In addition, and perhaps the fate of its being adjoined to a hotel, the restaurant feels a little private and shut-off from the surrounding CBD. It’s always a strange feeling when staff outnumber the guests, but I’ve been informed by my hostess that it’s much fuller on weekends.
In any case, a relationship to the Ballarat community is something Babae also nurtures through other means: its work with local suppliers and producers of the region in its provenance-driven menu. If you’re looking for an impressive dining experience to make someone feel special or swank up your weekend itinerary out in Western Victoria, this hotel restaurant fits the bill. Thanks to the team’s undeniable creativity in the kitchen, it’s set to be a destination in and of itself.