Victor Churchill Melbourne
On Anthony Puharich's beef boutique, and the curiosities of value.
The original Victor Churchill in the leafy seclusion of Sydney’s Woollahra grew into a bouchier of international renown. The immaculate fit out and ornate, artfully presented displays treated meat with the reverence of the finest European fashion boutiques- think Vuitton for veal, Chanel for charcuterie, Bulgari for bresaola. Here, butchers aren’t hidden in cold white rooms hacking away at great slabs of livestock; instead, they are proudly displayed like master craftsmen in elegantly lit showrooms, breaking down cuts and slicing steaks on ceremonial wooden pulpits.
VC is the luxury arm of Anthony Puharich's meat processing empire. The gregarious and charismatic Puharich has forged tight connections with Australia’s culinary elite, and through a canny knack for networking and branding, has created a highly lucrative organization. Puharich also has a social agenda that would make Paris Hilton feel as though she needed a night in on the couch; after all, when you supply the best restaurants in Australia, why wouldn’t you take advantage of your rolodex? A memorable appearance on Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations”, and the tentative plan for Bourdain and Puharich to bring VC to New York, further solidified the Vic’s Meats empire as Australia preeminent premium protein purveyors.
For obvious and tragic reasons, plans for an NYC outlet of Victor Churchill fell through. Perhaps in its stead, we now have Victor Churchill Melbourne, in the city’s wedding dress and vintage poster heartland, Armadale. The main distinction between the two sites is that Melbourne is, in addition to being a very flash butcher shop, a functioning restaurant. Come the evening, the lights are dimmed and opaque shutters cover the display fridges. Tables are placed around the venue, but the prime seats are at the venue’s rear marble horseshoe bar. Here, in the smouldering glow of Josper grill embers, to the convivial clink of wine glasses and the satisfying tap of expense accounts emptying, I dined on a Wednesday evening. Here’s how it was.
We commence, as all civilised folk do, with freshly shucked oysters. Tight, fresh Sydney rocks served with chilled mignonette over crushed ice, let’s not labour too long on something so simplistic and ethereal.
The menu at Victor Churchill is about as classic as one can expect from a French-leaning steakhouse. The flourishes are minimal, sticking tautly to classic preparations and combinations, almost exclusively highlighting premium produce. More names are dropped than a Kendrick diss track: Oscietra. Abrolhos. Iberico. It’s a who’s who of COGS-exploding ingredients, with a price tag to match.
Where Victor Churchill shines is the almost perverse quality of the meat on offer. A steak tartare verges on formulaic, but for the comically tiny Tabasco bottle served alongside. As classic a version as you will encounter, the silky tenderness of the beef is what recommends the dish most, almost buttery to the tooth, delicious when scooped onto crunchy gaufrette potatoes.
While VC are rightly lauded for their beef selection, the charcuterie shines just as brightly. Rarely has bresaola, the inferior bovine version of prosciutto, stolen the show on a cured meats selection, but this offering is exquisite. Utilising wagyu beef, the marbling is absurd, dense flavourful tracts of fat more convoluted than the Tokyo subway system. House-made terrines have long been a VC signature, the pork and rabbit iterations on show here a pleasing balance of density and fatty smoothness, along with expertly sliced spicy salami and peach-pink ribbons of jamon. The price ($48) may turn off a few, but this is a generous portion, a more than comfortable shared entree for two, and a fantastic indulgence for those advocates for the air-dried arts.
To finish, what else but steak. As it so happens, my favourite cut of steak is also the cheapest on the VC menu: the bavette. A rarity on Australian menus, this is the most common cut you’ll find served as steak frites in France, but never one of this quality. A civilised 280g, 270 day grain fed MS5+ slab of flank is expertly grilled over wood, justly rested, and served sliced. Adornments are numerous, and again, generous; more french fries than this rapidly filling belly could handle, and an almost overwhelming number of complimentary condiments. I opted for peppercorn sauce, my date an exquisitely reduced red wine jus, but neither were needed; the juicy fattiness of the beef was more than enough, though a controlled smear of well-made horseradish cream is a luxury I refuse to pass up.
At $68 for the entry level steak, this is by no means a cheap meal, but when the complimentary sides and condiments are taken into consideration, I believe it is a curiously good value one. After all, this is an economy where vastly inferior beef on average pub menus regularly soars into the mid to high $40s. Victor Churchill offers world class produce, cooked from raw (not a piece of ashen grey par-boiled sous vide meat in sight), by a skilled and hard-working two person kitchen. Oysters are shucked to order, charcuterie sliced fresh, tartares dressed a la minute. Service is polished, verging on stiff, and occasionally veers on pushy; getting a refill of your wine glass won’t be a problem.
Victor Churchill is the edible equivalent of a Patek Philippe wrist watch. You wouldn’t wear it every day, and in fact, would probably lose appreciation for it if you did. But if you covet the art of dining and the fine historical tradition of reverence for protein, there are few better investments you could make than a trip to Victor Churchill’s marble showroom.
953 High St, Armadale VIC 3143
(03) 9978 1968
Another great review with interesting background. Their window displays in Woollahra are usually playful and intriguing - similar in Melbourne?