Impressed by The Press Club

The first thing I noticed about The Press Club as we were being shown to our table was the understated simplicity of the decor. Tables were dressed in white linens that stood out in stark contrast to the rest of the room where warm browns and oranges ruled. The dining room itself has a very angular look with all the tables being a square or rectangle shape.

We had a lovely table for two near a window overlooking Exhibition Street. Bench seats ran along the wall with sleek wooden chairs holding the opposing positions. Squeezing between the tables to reach the bench seating was a delicate exercise. The tables are very close together and getting in was just the first dilemma. Trying not to eavesdrop on your neighbours was the next. I listened word for word as a fellow expatriate in Melbourne for business, talked endlessly about her life in Sydney. She was a very interesting woman, but I did take note that this was not the place for delicate discussions with your partner or the unveiling of secret business plans unless of course you wanted to share that information with the closest 10 or 12 diners.

Once we'd settled in at our table, I noticed an unmarked envelope with the restaurant's logo on the back. The Handsome Australian noticed it too. He picked it up and opened it to peek inside. There was a card inside that he opened and read and then said, "Oh, this is actually for you." He handed it across the table and I had a look. It read, "Welcome to The Press Club. We hope you enjoy your evening and have a wonderful birthday. Best Wishes from our staff." Wow. That's a nice touch, I thought.

Before we could blink, the sommelier approached and asked us if we'd received the card. We said yes and thanked him and he wished me a Happy Birthday too. He got us sorted with some sparkling San Pellegrino and then our waitress appeared dressed in the starched long sleeve orange collared shirt and brown apron that identified the staff. She gave us the menus and explained their layout. On one side are your typical entrees and main courses and on the other side there is a selection of set menus or Kerasma where you determine how many courses you'd like to have and the boys in the kitchen do the rest. They'll pick and choose your dishes for you. Then on a separate sheet, she presented us with the "Symposium" menu which is Chef George Calombaris' 6 course degustation menu. As the waitress explained, "George" as she familiarly referred to him, has taken all of his favourite flavours and tastes from his travels around the world and put them together in this menu. "It's George's baby," she remarked.

So we were left to ponder our options and the tight table arrangements came in handy as we had a bird's eye view of what other people were eating. All the food looked amazing. There wasn't a single thing I saw that didn't appeal to me. I could have eaten any of it. The Handsome Australian and I decided we'd go the whole hog and see what "George's baby" was all about. When the waitress returned, we told her we'd be having the Symposium menu with the wine match. "Easy," she said as she collected the menus and went to inform the kitchen.

She wasn't gone for long and returned with the most cutlery I've ever seen set in one place setting in a restaurant. There were three forks, two knives, a spoon..."We are going to be busy this evening aren't we?" I asked. "You certainly are," she replied with a smile. Our odyssey was underway.

The rest of the evening went like clock work. The sommelier would appear with the wine selection for the course and would give us a brief explanation of the origins of the wine, flavours we could expect to find and why he'd chosen it to match the particular dish we were about to have. He was knowledgeable, friendly and very informative. We enjoyed his visits. We also enjoyed his wines.

As soon as our wine loving friend would step away from the table, our reliable waitress would return and present us with our food. Each dish came with an explanation of ingredients and some required finishing touches at the table which she performed with grace and confidence. We wanted for nothing the entire evening.

Choosing a favourite course from the six is a difficult task (I'll spare you the entire list of courses here but if you are interested go to the The Press Club website and follow the "Menu" link to the "Symposium" menu for complete details), but I adored the chicken and apricot 'horiatiki' while the Handsome Australian was a fan of the slow cooked duck in olive oil, mushrooms, garlic, parsley, Greek kafe and sokolata soil. Both dishes are difficult to describe and walked the fine line between food and art. In a word, delicious.

We ended our meals with coffees, more out of habit than necessity. We were well and truly full to the brim with good wine and good food. It was well after 11pm when we finally settled the bill and strolled out of The Press Club to the sound of a final birthday greeting from our waitress who said, "Oh and Happy Birthday again, Ma'am". I was with her until she hit me with the "Ma'am" at which point I was looking over my shoulder for my mother.

I'm not in a hurry to celebrate another birthday, but if it involves another evening at The Press Club, I might be persuaded to age more rapidly. I'm only kidding...I think.

Ah-ha! The Press Club

When the Handsome Australian rang to make a dinner booking at The Press Club, it was obvious Friday or Saturday nights were not available for several weeks. Keen for a night out and not wanting to postpone our plans, we settled for a Sunday evening. At the time of making the booking, the Handsome Australian was asked if we were celebrating a special occasion. He responded in the affirmative as I'd recently reached a chronological milestone (of which we will never speak again...got it?) and this dinner was partially a tribute to my reaching said milestone. Done. Sunday evening at 7:30pm we had a date with The Press Club.

So when Sunday evening rolled around, we caught a train into the City and walked the short distance from Flinder's Street Station (the heart of Melbourne's rail network) down to the corner of Flinder's and Exhibition Streets. I knew very little about The Press Club before we made our dinner booking. I'd heard it described as "modern Greek" and I recognised Owner and Chef George Calombaris from his appearances on channel ten's "Ready Steady Cook" (a somewhat average cooking show that my four year old adores). Beyond these little bits and pieces of information, I had very little to go on.

As we approached the corner of Flinder's and Exhibition Street, the Handsome Australian began to explain to me that the building which now houses The Press Club was previously the home of the Herald and Weekly Times, publishers of Melbourne's Herald Sun Newspaper. The building is architecturally significant and is heritage listed. This is when the little cogs in my head began to turn and the light bulb switched on--the name! That is where the name for the restaurant came from. I never knew the history of the building until this moment and had been wondering why a "modern Greek" restaurant would be called The Press Club. There you have it, the eureka moment. As I explained my excitement in making this connection to the Handsome Australian, he looked at me sideways with a broad smile as if to say, "Aw you silly Texan. You've still got a lot to learn about this city."

History lessons aside, I knew we were heading into somewhere special when I saw the gold plated signs out the front of the building with the words The Press Club printed on them. The signs were simple and elegant but bold at the same time. The doors to the building were heavy and large and seemed the appropriate entrance to the grand adventure on which we were about to embark.

We arrived just after 7pm and since our booking wasn't until 7:30pm the hostess asked if we'd like to have a drink at the bar while we waited for our table. We had all ready made cocktail plans on our train ride in to the city so we were more than happy to oblige. A well dressed host in a business suit, collared shirt, but no tie directed us back out the doors, across the entry way and into The Press Club Bar.

The bar was long and narrow and very quiet on a Sunday night. We sat down on some couches near a window and surveyed the Bar menu. When I say menu I should say novella--it was a book. The wine list was expansive if not exhaustive--there were wines from all over the world: red, white, sparkling--the choice was ours to make. There were liqueurs, aperitifs, digestives, ouzos and a couple of pages of cocktails. We chose a couple of cocktails and settled in for a little while.

The service in the bar was a bit slow and the cocktails left us unimpressed. Having said that, ordering cocktails from their Bar menu was probably the equivalent to ordering a vegetarian meal at a steakhouse--it's not their speciality and it's going to be average at best. Note to us: next time order one of the amazing wines, you'll be better off.

7:30pm rolled around and we were itching to ditch the bar and get to the main event. The Handsome Australian gave the bartender a nod and asked him to check on the availability of our table. He came back and told us jokingly, "I had to twist some arms, but I got you in." We provided the requisite laughter he was after and he personally escorted us out of the bar and back across the entry way into the main restaurant.

This is when the evening really began...

Hard pressed to decide

Recently, the always hard working, Handsome Australian was commended by his employer. To show their appreciation for his dedication and capable performance they told him to take his wife to dinner--their shout! These are the kind of rewards I like...ones that include me having a nice dinner somewhere with my handsome food loving husband.

In Melbourne, the proposition of a nice dinner out on the town can be the beginning of a dizzying search for the perfect place. It's so difficult to narrow the choices down to a single venue. Melbourne has so many SPECTACULAR restaurants that choosing only one is well, next to impossible. A lot of careful planning goes into such an important decision.

When faced with this dilemma, the Handsome Australian will always defer to his food bible, The Age Good Food Guide. He'll carefully peruse the pages and thoughtfully consider the advice of John Lethlean and his co-conspirators. Once he's zeroed in on a few possibilities he'll suggest a few to me whilst reading highlights from the review the restaurant received. There will be a debate and most likely a stalemate.

It's at this point, we bring in reinforcements. I'll begin to ring like minded food loving friends and ask them about their recent experiences. Have they been anywhere new and interesting? What's the word on the street? Any hidden gems we should consider?

It was the advice of a friend confirmed by the Handsome Australian's youngest brother that led us to choose The Press Club for our special night out. Of course The Press Club's inclusion in The Age Good Food Guide and its receipt of various awards in said guide was what really cemented the deal with the Handsome Australian. What can I say? He loves the critics. I love the people. In this particular instance--the critics agreed with the people.

The stars were in alignment and we managed to get a booking. Would The Press Club be all that we'd been promised? Only time would tell...