If you fear that Josh and Julie Niland have exhausted all their tricks, order some oysters at the newly relocated Saint Peter. They’ll show up on an undulating plate made by Melbourne ceramicist Claudia Lau, fashioned in part by the bivalves’ crushed shells, sent down by the kitchen to be worked into the clay aggregate. Those shells have also been dissolved into the accompanying peppery mignonette, so that you’re effectively seasoning your oyster – a sweetly salty four-year-old from Merimbula, or a more vegetal three-year-old from Wagonga Inlet – with even more oyster.
Advertisement
The stunts don’t stop there. Coral trout bones are pressure-cooked down to a sticky paste and rolled into matchstick-sized noodles that lie low in a mug of warm, enveloping coral trout consommé. Big-eye tuna persuasively plays the part of beef in an exquisitely constructed Wellington. Caramel derived from Murray cod fat forms the centre of a smoked chocolate petit four built on a coral trout bone sablé. Nannygai eyes are whisked into a delicious vanilla crème pâtissière that binds a brûléed almond-flour macaron.
Chef-owner Josh Niland greeting guests at the new iteration of Saint Peter in the Grand National Hotel, Paddington.
Uncovering the limitless potential of marine life has always been the Nilands’ aim, since they first dropped anchor on Oxford Street in 2016. But now that their flagship has taken the form of a cloistered 40-seater at The Grand National Hotel (complete with a more casual 30-seat bar, private dining room and two floors of accommodation on the way), its sense of purpose seems to have crystallised. Dinner is not so much nine courses for $275 as it is a succession of lessons taught with dazzling grace and assurance.
Early on, when a tray of charcuterie is brandished at the table before re-emerging as a Gilda, you’ll understand how much virtuoso skill goes into crafting the likes of Murray cod chorizo and a slippery wodge of rock flathead mortadella. About halfway through, you’ll come to learn that a ramekin of crumbed and chermoula-spiced nannygai milt and the same fish’s “tripe” churned through parsley butter can, despite the odds, border on the sublime. You’ll also be pleasantly reminded that signatures, such as the “spag Bol” of Southern calamari noodles and yellowfin tuna ’nduja or Julie’s unsurpassed lemon tart, remain ironclad.
Those who’ve had the privilege of charting the restaurant’s evolution from the start will appreciate how far it has come. Those who haven’t won’t need to look too hard to see the signs of what has matured into a grown-up dining experience, be it the iPad-formatted wine list, the staff uniforms or the art curated by Ken Done and the Olsen Gallery. And while service has never been a shortcoming, it’s now more committed to the restaurant’s strive for excellence.
While that strive has been a constant, it too has evolved. Saint Peter may have once set its sights on being among the country’s best; now, it’s clearly angling for something greater. Today, Australia. Tomorrow, the world.
The façade of Saint Peter at the Grand National Hotel in Paddington
