Is there anything better than a long lunch, especially on a Friday? Sure, we can debate the pros and cons of a solid brunch sesh, or a late-night, post-theatre cheeseburger and cocktail combo, but there’s just something about luxuriating over a gorgeous meal and a couple of cheeky tipples in the middle of the day that’s intoxicatingly addictive. Plus, who doesn’t love getting all their socialising out of the way by 5pm? It’s a no-brainer.
It’s with this fizz of excitement that I meet a friend at Lillian Brasserie in Melbourne’s swanky 80 Collins precinct. As Society’s more relaxed and – dare I say – cooler sibling, Lillian is a Euro-inspired bistro and bar named in honour of the legendary couture atelier proprietor and businesswoman, Lillian Wightman.
The moniker is apt, given the ultra-chic and sophisticated vibes of the space, which is flourished with fringed, almost flapper-esque pendant lights, curved caramel-hued banquettes and an enormous black-and-white piece of art that looks like it belongs in an issue of Vogue Italia. Having dined at Society once before and been suitably blown away by its opulent grandeur, but also a teeny bit like a fish out of water at such a fancy establishment, I’m happy to report there are no airs and graces here – Lillian is a genuinely comfortable, convivial venue, with the staff working hard to make you feel welcome the moment you exit the elevator doors.
As it’s an unseasonally warm spring day (24 degrees in September? In Melbourne? Unheard of), the mood calls for a drink that’s light, crisp and refreshing. I spot Whispering Angel rosé on the seasonal sommelier-curated wine list, and it’s an easy choice to make – especially at $12 a glass, what a steal. I’m a longtime fan of the pale pink drop from Provence in France, but my dining companion has never tried it before and comments on the subtle floral notes that remind her of those musky love heart-imprinted candies that have cute messages like ‘be mine’ or ‘first love’ on them. It’s something my palate had never picked up on before, and we’re suddenly deep in conversation, menus cast aside as we discuss how easy it is to get caught up in wanky wine chat when sometimes you just want to compare a rosé to a lolly.
Speaking of, we find ourselves with four menus to sift through (is there such a thing as too many menus? Four feels like it’s pushing it), and there are plenty of (surprisingly) well-priced offerings. While the wood-fired grill options are obviously impressive, and there are pastas that certainly catch my eye – I’ll be returning for the spanner crab linguine, mark my words – it’s the humble steak sanga on the lunchtime specials menu that make my eyes light up. The confit duck cassoulet is confirmed as my friend’s pick, and that’s our mains sorted.
But, as this is a long lunch we’re settling in for, we opt for some snacks to kick off proceedings. The lobster and leek croquettes arrive dressed with a herb emulsion and accompanied by a slice of lime, which, when squeezed on top, adds just the right amount of zest and acidity to balance out the rich creaminess of the filling. There are three golf ball-sized spheres per serving, and we graciously split the third one, neither of us wanting to deny the other an extra mouthful of deliciousness.
Next up are the scallops with labneh, oregano and sobrassada, delicately plated and topped with four singular violet petals. Our waiter comes to check in on us at this point, and as we exclaim our delight in the most sophisticated manner (“Oh my god, it’s soooo good!”), she nails it on the head, simply stating that “pork and scallops are the combo you didn’t know you needed”. And it’s true; while it may look slightly strange on paper, there’s something about this unexpected pairing that sings, elevating the dish to top-tier status.
My steak sandwich is placed in front of me, and I let out an audible gasp – this thing is huge, arguably the king of steak sandwiches in Melbourne, complete with silver pins holding each half together. There’s just enough char on the focaccia bread to create a satisfying crunch when you bite into it, and it’s loaded with tomato, smoked cheddar, lettuce, slaw and lashings of heavenly béarnaise sauce. The meat itself is lightly seared and still rare; it may not be everyone’s preferred level of ‘doneness’, but I can’t scoff these succulent morsels of steak fast enough.
The confit duck cassoulet looks resplendent in a silver serving dish, but is mellow and a tad watery, according to my friend. I dunk a spoon in to get a mouthful for myself and agree, but we both comment on how beautifully the duck is cooked – juicy, tender and with some flavoursome bits of fatty skin. The chunks of mushroom are a pleasing addition and complement the beans nicely.
Satisfyingly full from the sanga, I pass on dessert but my pal decides to finish on a sweet note with the namesake cocktail. The Lillian is a pretty and effervescent concoction of strawberry eucalyptus, gin, rose, Saint Felix bitter citrus aperitivo and lemon, with a dusting of pink sherbert on the champagne flute. One is probably the limit when it comes to this Barbie coded beverage, lest you want to bring on a post-lunch sugar crash, and just a swig is enough for me to get my hit.
It would be easy to assume that Lillian is all style over substance, playing second-fiddle to the splendour of Society. But like most free-spirited younger siblings, she’s not afraid to take some risks and steal the spotlight – and we’re locking in plans to hang out with her again, asap. So, who’s free for a long lunch?
