The Town Mouse
312 Drummond St, Carlton

Winter hours: dinner Thursday-Sunday from 530/6pm, and lunch Friday-Sunday from midday (closed Tuesday and Wednesday)

Finishing our assessments for the semester yesterday along with an unspent Good Food Guide gift card meant a prime opportunity to try a normally out-of-price-range restaurant in Melbourne. The Town Mouse was an obvious choice, run by fellow New Zealanders originally from Wellington’s Matterhorn restaurant and recently rated 18th in Australia by the Australian Financial Review’s top restaurants (as voted by the nation’s top chefs and restauranteurs). From outside, a warm yellow glow emanates from the small and unpretentious eatery, the sort of place that tempts passersby to duck inside and escape cold Melbourne evenings. Inside, The Town Mouse is dominated by a curved dark oak bar, while sleek black tiled walls are made to glitter by hanging light fittings. Clean lined timber stools and tables create a simple but striking atmosphere: more wine bar than restaurant, but maybe that’s the aim. The service is smooth – efficient and unobtrusive but exceedingly friendly, offering advice when navigating the menu and ensuring dishes come quickly without seeming rushed. Bookings are in two hour slots, made to feel like the perfect time to eat leisurely and appreciate each successive offering.

You start with the complementary house-made sourdough – thick, warm and pillowy slabs of crusty bread served with a dollop of tahini-like sesame butter. Simple but elegant, and I had to restrain myself from asking for more. The menu is divided into four sections: to start, featuring bite sized appetizers, raw, with options like Oyster, chardonnay vinegar sorbet & lemon, and Calamari, grapefruit, clam, oregano and fermented elderflower, vegetables, and meat & fish to share.

The goat’s cheese profiteroles are a must-order: a small bite of crisp choux pastry sits on a bed of house-made honey (the hives are on the roof) and encases sharp, salty goat’s cheese mousse, matched with a touch of caraway and thyme. Layers on layers of flavour in an all-in-one mouthful. Next came the snapper, where meltingly tender fillets are topped with thick, woody spears of charred broccoli and a nutty, delicate crumb of clam, capers and olive. Perhaps the least punchy flavour of all of our dishes, but still one of my favourites.

We were granted a small reprieve before the bulk of our meal arrived – our two vegetable dishes acting as sides to the lamb. Of those, the cauliflower was the standout. Half a head of sweet and earthy roasted cauliflower, tender yet still holding crunch, is paired with roughly chopped almond and salty broad bean miso cream. Those of The Town Mouse do push boundaries with ordinary vegetables not normally considered pillars of culinary brilliance, demonstrated again by the famous red cabbage. A whole hunk of cabbage is cooked sous vide, losing its natural bitterness and becoming warm and tender, then slow roasted with prunes and chunks of caramelised apple and dusted with a layer of parmesan. Though not much to look at, this dense, rich (more than a touch of cream is in there!), and surprisingly sweet dish was easily the best cabbage I have encountered.

Braised lamb is our final main and arrives hidden beneath curly leaves of kale. Peeking underneath reveals the lamb – tender chunks of meat are paired with small artichoke cubes, a hint of lemony acidity, cardoons (artichoke thistles, I discovered, on looking them up) and the chargrilled fibrous kale.

The dessert menu presents another intriguing flavour mix. On recommendation, we try the lime posset, where a layer of lime is topped by green apple foam for a sour, tangy mouthful balanced by a coarse (and on trend) matcha and white chocolate crumb. Texture is lent by the thin, crisp shards of translucent sugar holding the whole structure together, while the fresh dill gives unique and subtle herb undertones.

Ordering the chocolate dessert was a no-brainer, though it was completely different to what I had envisaged. Layers of strongly cidered thin slices of pear are topped with a liquorice crumb and covered in a mound of chocolate mousse and crushed pumpkin seeds. Not dark enough to overwhelm the other flavours but sweet enough to offset the punch of alcohol, the mousse sits beside a scoop of brown bread ice cream. Yes, you read correctly – brown bread ice cream, actually cyclicly made from the very bread that we began our meal with. Unusual but a perfect combination, and hugely fun to eat.

Finally, I couldn’t bypass the final menu item – the little $6 bowl for when you are so full you can’t eat more, but can’t go past the temptation of dessert, particularly when it involves feijoas. Growing up in New Zealand with feijoa hedges everywhere, it is a shock to the system to realise that most Australians have never even heard of the fruit. Our waitress mentioned this to the NZ chefs making our dessert, who agreed that it also reminded them of home. The preserved feijoa pieces are cooked with hazelnut and topped with a creamy slice of tangy frozen yoghurt semifreddo: the smallest dessert on the menu, but, dare I say it, my favourite.

Overall, our meal cost us $125 – reasonable for two people for food of that calibre, and the unassuming yet glamorous atmosphere that makes The Town Mouse unique. The menu changes seasonally, so I am sure I will be back – the duck breast dish we saw on the table next to us is already calling my name!

Rating: 9/10
Don’t miss: the goat’s cheese profiteroles or lime posset dessert
Price range: $50-80 per person plus alcohol
Pro tip: book ahead online to avoid missing out

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