Time Out Melbourne never writes starred reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills for reviews so that readers can trust our critique.
When word first arrived that the Tipo 00 crew were opening a polished French-ish spot in the CBD, nobody knew quite what to expect. Andreas Papadakis’ iconic laneway institution has always been so laser-focused in its offering that one can only imagine it’s the specificity – aka masterful contemporary pasta forked out with a dash of irreverent Italian flair – that’s fuelled its consistent perfection throughout the years.
Harriot’s offering, loosely pitched as a refined European bistro with Melbourne soul, initially seems indefinable. Yet unsurprisingly, this mysterious newcomer is already one of the city’s hottest new restaurants. Harriot delivers on playfully executed dishes that make the most of classical French cooking techniques and Victorian produce, cleverly pairing them with sommelier Justin Howe’s picks from the outstanding wine list. Along with the rest of Melbourne, we’re sat – and we’ve been utterly seduced.
The vibe
By nightfall, this red-hot restaurant smolders and slinks along more like a happening wine bar than a hoity-toity upscale diner. We stroll in on a Wednesday night to find the space aglow with dim, irresistibly warm lighting and happy diners. Tucked discreetly in the bottom of an office building, it’s almost completely packed out but far from chaotic. The smooth operation is expertly steered by smart, friendly staff who usher us to our table immediately. Sweet and briny aromas (courtesy of tonight’s lobster special, perhaps) fill the dining room, and we marvel at the chic aesthetics: translucent white curtains, curved burnt sienna-hued banquettes and bottles of European wine lining the shelves – complete with a charming drinks trolley of post-dinner spirits by the pass. A lo-fi tune from psych-pop artist Connan Mockasin hums in the background, further proof that while Harriot may be serious about its food, it’s certainly not stiff or old-fashioned; it’s got its own Melbourne groove going on.
The food
Harriot’s contemporary seasonal menu entices with both the familiar and new – a perfect mishmash of recognisable French favourites (scotch fillet with tarragon mustard, country pâté, beef tartare) and somewhat more daring revelations.
Our first round of oysters arrive in a black olive dressing, speckled with preserved cumquat – decidedly adult, salty-sour flavours that lean bolder on the palate than a sprightly, more traditional vinaigrette. We then luxuriate in tender and creamy Murray cod rillettes, served with green fig atop nutty seeded crackers. They’re delicious snacks to start with, but when we overhear our neighbours singing the praises of their choice – housemade rye shells filled with bluefin tuna and fermented porcini – we mentally make a note to try those next time. We’ve since learnt they’re a Harriot favourite.
Globe artichoke hunks appear disarmingly simple on the plate, scattered with witlof and fennel pollen, but the savoury, broth-y vinegar sauce they’ve been dressed in defies expectation. The dish is a velvety, mouthwatering dream. We’ve also ordered a risotto-like stew of black barley with sweet lobster, and its delicately balanced, foam-lidded gravy is yet another example of French sauce expertise.
Whatever you do at Harriot, don’t skip the lamb sweetbreads – buttery, softly cooked morsels that sing beautifully in their glistening, silken juices of sage and preserved lemon. While we still have room to share the Black Opal Wagyu rump with green peppercorn sauce (it’s hard to say no to steak when you’re hungry), we probably didn’t need to order a side of asparagus, since the latter is served with sprouting broccoli. But we’re glad we did, because it’s as good as asparagus gets.
Same goes with our dessert: a blood orange tart with goats’ milk yoghurt. It’s a grounding way to end the night, the dish gently floating us back down to Earth in its humble, not-too-sweet, grand-mère-reminiscent preparation. Again, the mastery here is all in the balance.
Harriot offers an incredible meal – perfectly paced and portioned, and each dish a highlight in its own right. We’re glad our kind waiter assured us we hadn’t ordered too much!
The drinks
Wine is a major drawcard at Harriot, but if you’ve got the time to dally over a cocktail first you absolutely should. The lemon-hued signature French Pearl is like a refreshing grown-up’s cordial – lime, local gin and mint, underscored by a gentle kiss of pastis. The Americano also practices restraint, a less Campari-forward, more aromatic take on the classically bitter drink.
It’s particularly laudable that Harriot offers different serving sizes for its wines-by-the-glass – meaning you can opt for smaller 125ml-pours of various different wines (an excellent choice if you’ve chosen the pairing option), or stick to two or three of your favourite varietals via a 375ml pour.
If a wine goes well with more than one dish you’ve ordered, then the sommelier will say so. For example, our chenin blanc shapeshifts beautifully with both our artichoke and lobster, so the wine is brought out at the same time as those dishes are delivered in quick succession. It’s small touches like this that make Harriet’s service a stand-out.
Time Out tip:
If you’ve got the cash to splash and would rather focus on your date than leaf through all the drinks on offer, add on the curated beverage pairing for $120. You can still get an interesting rundown on each drop from the som, and it’s a more approachable way to tackle the hefty global wine list.
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