We have friends visiting from Spain, wonderful friends we met in Manila a dozen years ago or more. Friends with whom we have wined and dined at many beautiful restaurants that have featured in my blog over the years, usually at Fred’s suggestion, as he is the gourmand extraordinaire. At last, we have an opportunity to reciprocate.
Our choice? The Salopian Inn, a pretty, stone homestead among the vines in McLaren Vale. Built in 1851, its name comes from the county of Salop in England, now known as Shropshire, and its inhabitants.
I am not the first to write about this charming spot, and I certainly won’t be the last. In fact, I have mentioned it once before, many moons ago. Which is simply proof that its reputation as a McLaren Vale ‘institution’ and its ‘Jewel in the Crown’ has been brilliantly maintained. It has even been topped with a Chef’s Hat from the Good Food Guide. And deservedly so.
Faced with the menu, we quickly succumb to the idea that the Chef should decide for us, as there are far too many choices, far too much room for argument. So we opt for the Feed Me menu, which thanks to one of our renowned companions, is particually generous. Having made that decision, some of us head down to the wine cellar to select a bottle or two, while others kept their seats warm over a large G&T. The wild gin from KIS, on Kangaroo Island is my own local favourite, but if that is not your particular tipple, there are 199 others to choose from.
Chef and joint owner, Karena Armstong is keen on the Paddock to Plate philosophy, and her menu is crammed full of seasonal produce, much of it grown in the restaurant’s own kitchen garden. There is also a distinctly Asian flavour to the menu, perhaps influenced by her time at Kylie Kwong’s restaurant, Billy Kwong. She has also worked at Bondi’s gloriously situated Iceberg restaurant, and excels at adding her own twist to traditional recipes.
While we wait for the wine gatherers to return, our waiter turns up with plates of homemade sourdough bread fresh from the oven, with lashings of butter; a timely arrival that quenches the slight rumbling in my stomach. As the others reappear, armed with a bottle of red, two plates of Parmesan Gougères land on the centre of the table. Soft, cushiony pyramids that melt in the mouth, these savory choux pastry cheese puffs are usually made with Gruyere or Emmenthal, but the Parmesan gives a lovely, light, feathery touch.
The next two cabs off the rank are a toothsome and spicy beef tartare, and fresh anchovies on crispy fingers of gnocco fritto. A traditional snack from Emilio Romagna, gnocci fritti are usually crisp pillows of leavened, lard-enriched dough fried in even more lard, traditionally topped with mortadella or proscuitto. This variation, with fresh Olasagasti anchovies, produced on Spain’s Cantabrian coast, are light as a whisper and full of flavour.
Sashimi, as you probably know, is a Japanese delicacy of fresh raw fish (or meat) sliced into thin pieces and often eaten with soy sauce. The fish is caught with a handline, and as soon as it is landed, its brain is pierced with a sharp spike, and it is placed in slurried ice. This is known as the ikejime process, which will help to keep the fish fresh for about ten days. Hiramasa or Yellow Kingfish is renowned for its versatility and its quality. For sashimi, it is perfect. Smooth and creamy, this one is delicately smoky in flavour, perhaps due to the burnt citrus vinaigrette. Draped over pickled cucumber and peppers, I could nibble this all afternoon. And I must say, it goes rather well with my wild gin.
Chef Karina is famous for her dumplings, and it’s easy to see why when you bite into her Salopian Dumplings made from Spencer Gulf prawns with roasted chilli, cotriander and ginger dressing. We are given a bowl with two dumplings each, and I try to savour every morsel, although, like oysters, they slip down the throat far too quickly. Aphrodisiac? Undoubtedly!
The calamari salad is also quite divine. Think of the Thai dish larb gai (minced chicken salad) and this is larb with a marine twist, mixed with zucchini and lemon balm. Add in a crispy crunch from lightly fried rice, and you get a great Rice-Bubbles-style texture to the dish. In fact, I am reminded of the Philipino pinipigs we used to love in Manila. Pinipigs are made by pounding rice flat with a mortar and pestle, then toasting or baking the flattened grains until crisp. I’m guessing the Salopian’s crispy rice is created by a similar process.
Paroo Kangaroo is simply served on skewers, but it needs little else, for this ‘roo is as tasty as its reputation as the finest wild-game-kangaroo-meat suggests. Paroo Kangaroo originated on the Paroo Darling River, an area known for an abundance of native vegetation, and is now sourced from four regions: Far West New South Wales, the Warrego River in Queensland, and the Central West and Northern Pastoral regions of South Australia. These yummy skewers were followed by more roo: a serving of kangaroo tail, reminiscent of osso bucco, cooked in a sweetly spicy sauce. This dish may not have been to my taste – and I am not convinced that the effort required to eat the tiny morsel of meat is worth the mess I made – but my friends did not end up needing my help to empty the bowl…
Watermelon and mint sorbet is an effective palate cleanser, but this one is also very sweet, more sugar than flavour. As the Queen of Savoury, I let it pass after an initial lick, and move on to the delectable Coorong Wild Mullet, lightly grilled, and accompanied by lentils, roast carrots and almonds. Magic!
As the grand finale of the savoury courses, we are served a succulent Kangarilla T-bone as large as a dinosaur steak, served with charred onions and shoestring fries cooked to a crisp. I think we all struggled to find the room in our over-stretched stomachs by this point. Yet somehow we managed. However, we were happy to take a breather before dessert. In fact, I remember hearing several companionds deny the need for anything more. Yet again, temptation proved too strong, and the platters were licked clean. By us all.
Dessert was a fabulous platter of truly scrumptious, highly calorific offerings: a rich and creamy baked chocolate tart with rhubarb and strawberry sorbet; a Paris Brest filled with Hazelnut Mousse, and a Lemon Cheesecake Parfait. It all looked amazing, but needless to say, I’m afraid I tipped towards the cheese platter. Much to the amusement of our European guests, these were not local cheeses at all, but French ones: a gloriously creamy bleu d’auvergne, and an even creamier Brillat Savarin Triple Cream Brie. We assumed the third piece was also French – a generous slice of Comté, that semi-hard, nuttily sweet cheese made from unpasteurized cow’s milk, produced in the Jura Massif region of Eastern France. Yet, as I check the menu online, it might actually have been one of Kris Lloyd’s own versions of Comté, made in the Adelaide Hills from a slightly sharper goat’s milk. Whichever it was, it got the thumbs up from everyone at the table.
The Salopian Inn is comfortable, cosy and full of warm and helpful staff. It is the perfect spot for a special celebration, or simply for an afternoon of joyful self-indulgence. And, as promised, we did not leave hungry. Sadly, however, I was far too distracted by all this fine food to remember to take any photos. And, as I was driving, all three bottles of wine consumed at our table, passed me by. I am assured they were excellent.