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Joris Minne: Uluru
Aussie Rules
Monday, 8 June 2009
enlargeHow a wonder from Down Under is serving up seriously accomplished food in Armagh
Most nations can be personalised by the foods they produce. Burgers are big, juicy and addictive, just like many Americans; pasta and pizza dishes come in a million guises, all of them profoundly seductive, just like Italians; the French have croissants, the Spanish, paella, and the Japanese sushi and we have Irish stew, which makes us stormproof and fearless. Yet it is never fair to reach for stereotypes. Most nations have vast varieties of dishes which they can claim as unique to them but unless you count barbecues, it is difficult to link Australia to anything in particular.
I remember learning about Australia at school in the sixties when Rolf Harris was big and even then I got the impression that it was a country populated by orphans who’d grown up with a collective chip on their shoulders and chose to live solitary lives as sheep farmers.
Later in life, I learned about Australian cinema and read books by Peter Carey and Clive James and revised my outlook. Australia became really cool about 20 years ago when we started drinking Castlemaine Four X and Foster’s and many bars in England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland were run by handsome men and women from Sydney, Darwin, Perth or Melbourne. The Australians brought with them surf boards and funny boots to wear on building sites and both are now mandatory if you’re under 25.
But there was no sign of an Australian restaurant here until Uluru opened in Armagh a year ago. If the reputation of a good restaurant relies mainly on word of mouth, then talk about Uluru has spread as quickly as an Australian bush fire.
Beautifully situated in the heart of Armagh’s old town, Uluru is a pukka Australian restaurant (with the most extensive list of Australian wines and beers you’ll see this side of Earl’s Court) whose young chef patron is from Queensland. It’s an old story: boy meets Armagh girl, he moves to her home city and the two of them now run a great spot that has become a hub for relaxed and adventurous foodies.
The small dining room is like the converted lounge of an Australian cultural attaché with aboriginal artwork and carvings. It was managed by a lone but cheerful and confident server who couldn’t have been older than 20 but who knew enough to keep the most inquisitive diners happy.
She needed to be up to the job as there are things like Balinese chicken, kumera chips and other antipodean exotica that require explanation for the novice.
Admittedly, there are gimmicky things on the menu — kangaroo was a novelty first brought to us by the Morning Star along with crocodile and neither, frankly, is a threat to a decent Aberdeen angus steak — but the rest is seriously good (there’s also a great little kid’s menu).
A choice of three starters on a weekday lunchtime included spinach and chickpea soup, deep-fried goat’s cheese balls and a crab mousse on smoked salmon. All three were on the mark. The soup was a perfect choice for a bracing spring day with deep flavours and light consistency. The cheese balls came beautifully crisp on the outside, melting and hot on the inside with a quality salad of mixed leaves with plenty of dressing and the mousse was nothing short of astonishing, accompanied by another salad which included pine kernels and little cubes of fresh goat’s cheese.
As it happens, the Balinese chicken was a delicious stack of deep golden crispy battered goujons served up with interesting, floral and spicy sweet sauces reminiscent of Thailand and was quite brilliant. Pickled ginger with lemongrass infusion and chilli and garlic jam enhanced the already spiced-up batter to supply that peculiar flavour which encompasses all that is sweet, salty, sour and savoury.
The marinated kangaroo fillets were tender and earthy and gamey in a (and I’m guessing here) marsupial way. They were accompanied by a bowl of sweet potato chips (that’s the kumera chips), which were outstanding, and some very fresh and tender Mediterranean vegetables.
While I didn’t like the bit of kangaroo I tasted, my mother enjoyed the little fillets immensely. Mum said she normally had the whitebait at Uluru, which she described as heavenly crunchy little things that you could just keep eating for the rest of your life. Dean, the owner, said: “Aw mate, you should have said you were coming I would have got some in.”
Side orders of chips (the normal spud kind) were Blumenthal standard but the Asian noodles weren’t up to the levels set by everything else we’d had. You still have to go to Cayenne in Belfast for the best noodles.
The noodles aside, everything was an uplifting delight. The desserts were as carefully considered and well prepared as the rest. A top-class panacotta with diced pineapple and shredded mint leaves could have stood comparison with the best in the land, while the raspberry cheesecake with vanilla ice cream was as light as a cloud with plenty of fruity tang.
Uluru, the aboriginal name reappointed to the unique, massive and world-famous Ayer’s Rock, is the opposite of its namesake. It’s small and cute, cosy and welcoming. The food is that of someone who loves to cook and is very good at it. Northern Ireland doesn’t have an official Australian high commission but inspired little Uluru flies the flag for its nation admirably and should be anointed as the country’s informal diplomatic mission. For a country as relaxed as Australia, what could be more appropriate?
The Bill
Soup and bread: £2.95
Goats cheese starter: £2.95
Crab and salmon: £4
Kids lunch: £3.95
Balinese chicken: £5.95
Fish & chips: £5.95
Roo lunch: £5.95
Noodles: £1.99
Ice cream: £2
Cheesecake: £2
Pannacotta: £2
Glass wine: £3.30
Glass cider: £2.70
Toohey’s Beer: £2.70
Fanta: £1.30
Coffees: £3
Total: £53.99
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