The Melbourne Wine Room restaurant and bar

I arrived home raving about The Melbourne Wine Room. Twice. And then I came home moaning. The last experience was awful.And this is the trouble with eating out, not inconsistency but sabotage.But first the good news. There was the wine. I was able to taste half a dozen glasses to find the Wirra Wirra grenache as a match for a fish and meat meal. Now that’s what I call service.Then there was the disciplined bustle of the waiters that is always so good here (and at their pizza joint Mr Wolf). They bustle around serving, collecting glasses and swapping ashtrays with an almost military precision.Finally there was the pork. With memories of pale white dried-out steaks, I don’t usually eat pork.This pork was different. Served on a bed of celeriac and apple and topped with kipfler chips it wasn’t like any pork I’d tasted. Yes, it was very garlicky. Some would say it’s over seasoned but I enjoyed it. Yes, it was pink and succulent. Yes, it was delicious.The same goes for the barramundi. Jackie reckons she always orders the wrong things. But tonight the wild barra was spot-on. Served with pearl barley, parsley and chopped green pepper (the large green mild ones) it was a perfect serving in a not-too-small not-too-large way.I enjoy this dilapidated, noising smoky room and it was this raving pork that took me back. This time with friends who tend to use the restaurant as an after cinema canteen.The restaurant side, still noisy but not smoky.This menu offers great value for money at $65 and is devised from what is fresh on the day. I found something that pandered to my country roots –a salad of confit rabbit, crayfish and pancetta with a poached free-range egg and picked baby artichokes. I was forced to resist the carpaccio of yellow fin tuna with smoked eel, horseradish and crispy shallots. My three friends couldn’t.I couldn’t resist paying a little extra for a Livornese Fish Stew a tasty stock with prawn, scallop and a handful of mussels, clams and a fillet of fish that seemed native to Mediterranean waters rather than the Pacific.The others went for the Gnoccetti with Gorgonzola and leek and the roasted WA lamp rump with Cavolo nero, a tomato, rosemary, cannelini and butter bean braise.Being greedy, and with a blog entry in mind I decided to find out the different between Back Forest Gateaux and the Black Forest cake on this menu (it was delicious).We left the win to the experts and it was worth it.This is a place with an extensive list and unless you are an expert I’d take their guidance.As we left Michael Sapountsis, who runs the joint an selected our wines, said it was good to see me again. I don’t know whether he’d recognized me as I’m local or from when Tomato Magazine when I interviewed chef Karen Martini.Whatever, we left with pleasing memories with a memo to visit again.And I did, midweek for a snack. Jackie ordered the wine and a Bistecinni. Remember I said that this place is noisy. It has been likened to having the acoustics of an empty swimming pool.We visit often enough to know the difference between the hulking great bistecca and the thinner cousin lying next to it on the menu tonight.She points and shouts. Half an hour later the bistecca arrives. The waiters make us feel bad and point out the difference as if we were idiots.The food is fairly well seasoned here. And it was not until I’d wolfed most of my way through it did I realise why the extra salt was there. It was the story in Don’t Try This at Home by Kimberly Witherspoon and Andrew Friedman that made me realize. It was about the chef who flipped out mid service and left throwing fistfuls of salt in all the sauces on his way out.So the customers are idiots. But not that stupid.