In Review: Laura
Pt. Leo Estate's showpiece restaurant, in long-form.
Feeling a bit left out by the recent World’s 50 Best party in Vegas and yearning for the Basque-esque ultra-fine dining that the list covets (while still being forced to barely subsist in the marrow-hardening chill of a Melbourne winter), I decided it was time to take action. Laura, the fine dining jewel in the Gandel family’s property crown, helmed by Spanish chef Josep Espuga, has long been on my to-do list, and would serve as the perfect Sunday getaway to scratch my fine dining itch. Not quite a trip to San Sebastian, but the closest I could conjure.
When Pt. Leo Estate opened in 2017, the culinary program was overseen by Sydney chef Phil Wood, fresh from his celebrated tenure as Neil Perry’s main man at the still intact Rockpool Group. I’m a massive fan of Wood’s cooking, blending classic French technique with a fearless flourish of fusion. Wood now lives the owner/operator life in Sydney, where he runs Ursula’s in Paddington. Having failed to dine at Pt. Leo under Wood’s tenure, I was excited to visit the Merricks monolith under the new direction of Espuga. With a CV littered with Michelin stars and a reputation for naturalistic, produce-championing cuisine, I was curious to see what direction Espuga had taken Pt. Leo, and more specifically, its cordoned off premium space, Laura. In this post, I’ll be going through Espuga’s winter menu course by course, discussing how each dish is executed, and how the menu itself unfolds.
To begin, under the recommendation of the staff, I opted for a seasonal blueberry gimlet made with locally produced Bass & Flinders gin. Strong, cold, tart and fresh, it did everything an aperitif should, awakening the palate and alerting the taste buds to the oncoming influx of flavour. Suitably boozy and not oversweet, it sets the table nicely. Speaking of tables, the space is immaculately appointed, with its fresh linen tablecloths and achromatic, restrained decor.
Oysters are offered as an optional opening course, here served with spherified horseradish pearls and a yuzu oil. Refined bitterness and restraint is the initial reaction, the garnishes designed not to conflict with the flavour of the Royal Miyagi oyster, which is creamy and astringent. Fine dining doesn’t have to be interventionist, and this presentation was bracing and respectful of the bivalve.
Outside on a clear winter’s day, children in Ralph Lauren cable knits play amongst the estate’s sculpture park. Groups of daytrippers roam, taking in works from the likes of KAWS, Yayoi Kusama, George Rickey and Tony Cragg, glasses in hand. It’s a picturesque vista, but inside Laura, the view of the plate is just as captivating.
A single mussel arrives, artfully arranged on local coastal seaherbs. Fine dining is indulgence, particularly when it finds a way into your pleasure centres by bringing to mind something comfortable in an exciting, innovative way. This dish is that: the ineffable and refined cleanliness of high level kitchen wizardry, with the nourishing mouth feel and umami hit of Ritz French onion dip. Utterly delicious and aesthetically seductive in a not entirely unintentional manner.
Our next course is introduced as a sea urchin dish, but comes to encompass so much more. Words can escape when luxury meets generosity; even the most jaded bon vivant can be occasionally stopped dead by a plate of food. Already present in Josep’s menu is a willingness to deliver on the core human requirements of edible pleasure. Warmth. Fat. Salt. Sweetness. Texture. Comfort. Surprise. I wasn’t expecting a dish that marries Catalan cheese rice with the exceptional elegance of truffle, sea urchin, and the central nervous system bioshock of Kraft mac & cheese, but now I don’t know how I lived without it. This may take some unseating as the best dish of 2024.
A pasta course is next, playfully introduced as a “potsticker”, the crispy lattice cage that covers the single agnolotti blurring the line between east and west. Candidly, I’m already behind the 8 ball of objectivity here: rabbit and artichoke are two of my all time favourite ingredients, and both are expressed flawlessly here. A third thing I’m a sucker for: a playful and creative wine pairing. A Kyoto red rice sake brought surprising sweetness to this dish, the glazed rabbit loin adding the “Japanese” element with a sticky glaze, and the pot stick aesthetic revealing an overwise traditional pasta course. Nicely to the tooth, the confit bunny filling is enlightened by citrus, a jammy quail egg in the centre bolstering the dish luxuriously.
After a brief interlude, a signature preparation of Espuga arrives, and one that serves as not only a grand expansion of the menu’s ambition to this point, but as a celebration of technique. What an aesthetic flex. Look at the elegance of this plating, the ornate consideration put into every element. From the perfect char on the cod, to the precise symmetry of the garlic purée that contains the pil pil sauce, to the shimmering velvet drape of exemplary jamon.
The adornments served alongside are just as beautiful. A recent review of Vue de Monde spoke about the lack of accoutrements and little luxuries that surprise and delight, and the importance of providing ample vegetation to balance and counter rich dishes. This exquisite bouquet of hand picked leaves did that; a simple, thoughtful gesture towards a holistic, complete course of food. And who can help but be charmed by such an ornate butter stamp!
The traditional table side service of classical French cooking lives on in Laura’s signature lobster flambé, an element of service under Phil Wood’s tenure that Josep says attracted him to working at the restaurant. Espuga skillfully flambees the lobster at tableside, using a local rum, all the while explaining the provenance of each element. The chef then plates the dish and presents it to the diner proudly.
A sauce made of invasive local wakame does environmental good whilst providing umami and mouth coating richness to the sweet spring of the flambéed lobster. An accompanying “donut” is more like a croustille, pleasingly crisp and giving way to the creme fraiche and caviar within. Braised endive rounds out the flavour profile with a mature bitterness, the seaspray-crunch of foraged beach herbs injecting coastal character.
As a final flourish, an expertly executed lobster bone soup, lifted with the Spanish flavours of romesco. Most lobster is an overpriced stunt addition to menus, but this dish and its many adornments pays regal, reverential tribute to the crustacean.
Our main protein course today is a considered combination of wagyu beef, beetroot and pine mushroom flan. I loved the way the disparate elements of beef jus, chestnut sauce and beetroot liqueur melded into one harmonious dish. The beetroot is audaciously firm, correctly so, and adds textural contrast. Fatty and extraordinary beef such as this Blackmore Full Blood wagyu should be served sparingly, and shines here as a component, rather than a focus. An airy mushroom flan is pure luxury and speaks to the season and terroir of the peninsula. The dish is the rib sticking, big-red loving crowd pleaser that every degustation needs, presented here essentially faultlessly.
A small tongue taco that accompanies the beef course was appreciated and added acidity with its sharp pickle, but was not essential to the dish.
A moment to reflect on the character of Laura, and the energy and intent of the professionals that work the floor. I believe one of the hallmarks of the Australian service style is the freedom and confidence to inject personality and warmth into their craft: we (or, given I’m semi-retired from the game, they) are liberated to sprinkle in moments of cheekiness and humour that are often discouraged in European and American restaurants. Laura is all the better for it; the diner feels at ease to give themselves over to the experience, and put themselves in the safe hands of the front of house team. It’s an incredibly well-drilled squad, delivering service with a deft and playful touch.
We move now to pre-dessert, which doubles as a sort of cheese course. It takes a skilled hand to transition from savoury to sweet; this riff on a cheesecake tapped into the aromas and textures of a dessert while remaining restrained and gentle with its use of sugar. The Main Ridge Dairy cheese is only faintly goaty, the ash a subtle, alluring presence. The finely diced apple and honey garnish is refined to the highest level, maintaining crunch and freshness. A dry Normandy cider served alongside is exploding with apple flavour, proving to be the perfect pair.
A little treat before the final course, something I’m calling a pumpkin mochi interval: gelatinous rice paper, pumpkin ice cream, caramel and gingerbread. I don’t like mochi. But I liked this. A small moment of appreciation for the impeccable stemware and crockery, too.
Dessert is listed as “Penninsula berries, Cuveee ‘Bianco’ white chocolate, pistachio, elderflower”, and is ostensibly a riff on the classic trifle. This dish felt like the pastry section unleashing the armoury; full on textural and flavour overload. Pebbly, tectonic, crunchy, smooth, cold, juicy, the vivid acidity of the berries bookending with the opening gimlet poetically. So enjoyable was this dish that I had a momentary leave of my senses and forgot to photograph it, so the recent Instagram post from Laura above will have to suffice. The version I tried was served in a deeper bowl, and I felt it ate marvellously.
Just when I thought the festivities were over, the chocolate trolley arrives. The romance of restaurants is alive again. Long-time readers will know I have a chocolate predilection that borders on obsession, so this was a welcome surprise. Incredibly ornate and precise chocolate work, with my personal favourite being the pastis flavour, which tasted like licorice bullets on human growth hormone. A sublime finish.
Laura is a comprehensively considered and executed restaurant. Dining here felt as cohesive and seamless as any fine dining degustation I’ve recently encountered in Australia, with barely an element to fault. The room and location are idyllic, the view across the water towards Phillip Island, decorated by world class sculptures, is as lovely as you’re likely to encounter. Service is precise, impeccably attentive, and warmly guides the diner through every facet of the meal. And all preconceptions that Espuga could not follow in Phil Wood’s footsteps were soundly allayed. This menu builds and fluctuates masterfully, combining technique and creativity, and never forgetting to deliver on fun.
Is this Australia’s best restaurant? I’m not the authority, but I have eaten at many that would pertain to be, and there is nothing here that would disqualify Laura from that discussion.
3649 Frankston - Flinders Rd, Merricks VIC 3916
(03) 5989 9011
Made me chuckle - “children in Ralph Lauren cable knits” because I have witnessed them several times at Pt Leo Estate too! Have not dined at Laura though, it’s on my list!