DINING / The Marion, Regatta Point High-tea inspires lunch date

RESTAURANTS are like people. They have good days and bad days.

The Marion now has an à la carte lunch menu and we were keen to visit having been treated like queens during our high-tea experience.

The service on this visit was the opposite, but more on that later. Let’s talk food.

Lunch is two courses for $65 or three courses for $75, Monday to Friday. Choose from four entrées, four mains and four desserts. Add $9 for sides, whether French beans, a salad or frites.

The menu is a lovely read and selecting was a struggle since so many dishes sounded delicious.

The lobster bisque entrée (an additional $6) looked pretty on the plate, with the large ravioli stuffed with lobster tail. It was perched on French petite peas. One of our party felt the bisque wasn’t intense enough.

I ordered the superb smoked fillet of beef tonnato. I was drawn to the crispy capers and finger limes, which I adore. The sauce was well-balanced and thin slices of red and purple radish and rocket adorned the dish. The shaved, aged parmesan rounded out the flavour profile.

Mains hit the spot, especially the herb-crusted lamb backstrap, juicy and caponata was bold and the labneh thick and creamy. The bit of basil oil poured on top was gorgeous.

The Marion’s dishes are inspired by the globe and effort is invested in sourcing top-quality, seasonable and sustainable produce. That includes the Aquna Sustainable Murray Cod. This premium, pond-grown cod offered wonderful flavour and married well with roasted cauliflower, and a browned almond and caper butter sauce. Toasted almonds added texture.

Desserts didn’t disappoint, although my lemon and lavender crème brûlée was too sweet for my personal taste. I should have stuck to the Canadian component of my palette and ordered the steamed maple syrup sponge. I stole a taste of my friend’s and it was lovely with the tonka bean Chantilly cream. Also gorgeous was the pear and gingerbread crumble.

The Marion showcases sensational views of Canberra all-year round. The restaurant is managed by the Grand Pacific Group (Sydney) which boasts it’s an iconic hospitality leader. The service was painfully slow from go to whoa and our waitress was wobbly on the menu (it was her first day).

We waited and waited for every course and more than once went to the bar ourselves to order. Eventually, this was acknowledged, and we were told the restaurant was one staff member down and struggling to deal with the group in the function room. We were offered a free drink each, which we enjoyed while exer cising more patience before desserts finally arrived.

“Rabbits are known to be incredibly witty, outgoing, well-spoken, creative, empathetic, thoughtful and meditative; the water element of 2023 means this year will bring even more introspection, peace and hope.”

Cute and fluffy? Chinese symbolism may attribute glorious characteristics that beckon peace and hope but in this neck of the woods, they are a curse. The myxoma virus killed them in vast numbers in the ‘50s but they resurged. The Australian and NZ bush is still alight with their pestilence despite myxomatosis and calicivirus.

In our lexicon, rabbits are not soft, warm, fluffy creatures but thin, brown, ugly devastators of pasture and native plants. They should be treated as such. My view is that the best way to celebrate the Lunar New Year is to eat the rabbit.

Farmed rabbits are good to eat but Richard Odell, of the Griffith Butchery, told me he has given up stocking rabbit, farmed or otherwise: “The prices of farmed rabbits are exorbitant and you can’t get local rabbit meat for love or money. Nobody can trap or shoot them, yet they are all around Canberra rooting themselves silly.”

On the off chance that the White Rabbit Cocktail room on Northbourne Avenue might offer its namesake on a plate, I called and spoke with Grace Cousins, a manager there: “Not that particular cuisine”, she said, “I don’t think our clientele would go for it. We’re an ‘Alice in Wonderland’ theme.”

So I couldn’t go any further down the rabbit hole of culinary inquiry. But I do remember eating farmed rabbit at the Green Door restaurant in Beechworth, Victoria. That place now seems to be closed. My then partner and I had an expensive pinot noir with the rabbit and whatever she ordered. The wine and her choice are both lost to memory. I know at the time I thought the match of pinot noir and rabbit excellent. But is that because I’m biased, especially towards good Otago Kiwi pinots? It seems not.

If you ask the internet: why pinot noir with rabbit, you get a couple of vindicating answers? The UK Wine Society says that pinot noir or a light gamay “marries beautifully” with rabbit, but gives no justification. The “Wine Spectator” question and answer web link says: “Since it’s a mild-tasting and lean meat, if it’s prepared simply, I’d recommend a light-bodied wine that wouldn’t overpower it, such as a delicate pinot noir or a white Rhône-style wine.

“If it’s prepared in a sauce, do your best to match the wine with the sauce.”

I believe that the Rhone-style whites referred to in this quotation would be wines based on viognier, Roussanne or Marsanne. I’d match the rabbit with a 2017 Burge Family Wines’ 2017 Roussanne Semillon, which has a great herbal, full-textured flavour.

The point is that rabbits cause hundreds of millions of dollars a year in damage to the Australian economy. One researcher in 2009 estimated that this figure was about $206 million a year, a figure that has surely increased over time.

Sure, give a respectful nod to the Chinese horoscope but don’t be fooled that these creatures are, in reality, beneficent. Eat them.