Some striking combos on a wicked menu including such intriguing tempters as “Pigs Nipples” and “Ducks Knuckles”. The décor is modern, lighting is moody, and atmosphere vibrant. An open kitchen in the centre back adds to the excitement as well as the almost overwhelming garlic wafting throughout, enough to kill all vampires within a 50m radius of the place. But vampire slayers or not this wont make-up for the fact that I’ve been seated in the doorway, as a prominent lone diner who is fine dining alone. It is so tactless you almost have to wonder whether it was purposeful. They made such a big deal over me booking for one in the first place. The waitress made a point of asking the head chef where “Wendy” was sitting, falsely convincing me that I may have been mistaken for royalty (my Mother does have an uncanny resemblance to the Queen). Except they’ve sat me in the f#cking doorway. Just lucky I’m in Esperance where people don’t seem to stare as much, and even luckier they don’t charge corkage.

But to make matters worse an overzealous waitress starts removing the cutlery on the side closest to the door (which in itself is a mere 50cm away). This has the potential of leaving me facing-up to all the guests as they enter the restaurant, like a free matre’d. And as the people come in and wait to be seated, I only need look left to be greeted by someones fat butt no more than 40cm from my face, perhaps 35cm even.  

The rules at the start of the menu are just a little off-putting. But what a turn on…. a man who stands by his convictions. But like most customers I didn’t take much notice of them, some well thought-out words about not splitting the bill obviously didn’t concern me. Lucky the barbecue squid is delicious and defined by a refreshing zang thanks to the Asian vinaigrette. The massive entrée portions could almost pass as mains.

My main is duck and pig. Duck leg confit and mini pork mignon with beetroot risotto that is then strategically topped with bacon, mushroom, and doused in red wine sauce. The main is served piping hot and most importantly, on time. There’s a beguiling scent of rosemary, which I spy accusingly posing as a garnish. And the beetroot risotto has a divine porridge like consistency as God intended. But then a second overzealous waitress asks me how my meal is going before I’ve even taken the first bite.