(No more) the Cream of the crop..

For Mr K’s birthday recently, I booked a table at one of my long-standing favourite restaurants, Cream. Its tucked away in East Perth, and I have been going there regularly since it opened - I have always loved the furry walls and mood lighting, as well as the food and wine list. The service has always been solid as well. You can therefore see my logic; Birthday + Romantic Dinner a deux = Cream. My mathematical genius is clearly an inverse of how often I use Excel, because my calculations were well out of alignment (perhaps I forgot to carry the one?).

We booked into the 8pm dinner service (they only do two, 6:30 and 8pm), therefore arriving around the same time as everyone else did. We had been placed at a table right at the front of the restaurant, directly opposite the cash register, so as people came in to be seated, or went to pay, their bottoms were perching on the edge of our table (this could have been an edifying view for some, perhaps I just wasn’t in the right mood) . The front door does not close properly, and all night as people left or went out to smoke we were treated to gusts of frigid air amidst the SLAM of the door in the wind. Our drinks orders were taken reasonably quickly, and we got a bottle of sparkling, Stefano Lubiano NV Brut ($70) to share over entrée. It wasn’t anything special, but their bubbles list is n0t extensive, and it did the job.

Occasionally, the wait for food at Cream has become a little tedious, and knowing this, when we ordered dinner I ordered bread, olives, and their very more-ish homemade pate ($3.5pp for bread, $5.5 for pate) so we didn’t starve to death. It took 45 minutes to get out to us, and only arrived after one of the staff asked why a bread plate was still sitting on the pass after half an hour (we were close enough to hear). During this wait, the rest of the restaurant had their orders taken, and were served their entrée courses, and ours was the only table that missed out - I must have accidentally worn my Invisibility Cloak (I normally keep it for when my Mum drops around). Despite the arduous and frustrating wait, I very rarely complain in a restaurant, and it was Mr K’s birthday, so we waited it out until I finally cracked and asked a passing staff member whether we might be having dinner…

An hour and a half after we arrived at the restaurant, after everyone else was finished their main course, our entrees of a Fried Parmesan Polenta ‘Egg’, with a ‘Molten Gorgonzola Core’ and Spanish Salt Cod & Potato Croquettes (both $23.5) were delivered to our table. My polenta egg was tasty, but I found no gorgonzola ‘core’ in it, molten or otherwise. I ended up trading with Mr. K, because he was bitterly disappointed with his Salt Cod croquettes (if you want excellent specimens of this genre, may I suggest Duende?). As you can imagine, after the wait, these were very speedily disposed of, and only 15 minutes after our entrees made their grand entrance, our main courses of Marinated Lamb Fillet and Braised Baby Beef ($36.5 and $35.5 respectively) were served.

Mr K lucked out there – the baby beef was absolutely superb, melt in your mouth gorgeousness accompanied by potatoes, green beans and a beautiful jus. The marinated lamb was tender and flavourful, but no comparison, and although I adore garlic, the sweet potato mash tasted of it to the point of bitterness. We had ordered a bottle of Te Whare Ra (pronounced: Teh Ferry Rah) Pinot Noir ($75) to go with our mains, and after its 90 minute breather on the table, it was fabulous. We stumbled across this winery on our NZ holiday, and it was so lovely to see it on a menu, even if the waiter did keep looking at me as though I was pronouncing the name wrong (helpful hint: they tell you how on the back of the bottle if you’ve not had the good fortune to pay a visit to the vineyard).

Due to the speediness of the main course, the bottle was only half drunk by the time the last morsel of beef had been eaten, but we waited in vain to be given a cheese or dessert menu. It eventually appeared, but wasn’t followed with anyone to take an order until well after our patience was exhausted. Finally a lovely waitperson appeared who apologised profusely for the service and blamed it on a ‘function’ of twelve. I gently (honestly!) explained that as everyone else in the restaurant was served and satisfied prior to us even receiving entrees, I had difficulty accepting that as a suitable excuse, particularly as the table of two behind us had service and food all evening. She was unable to fault our logic and credited the cost of our entrees off the bill without us asking for recompense but as you know, this rarely reconciles one to the loss of what should be a fabulous dining experience. The feeling of loss is all the more bitter when you have had wonderful experiences in the past, and it’ll be awhile before I am brave enough to try again, if at all.

Verdict? Have a snack before you go, or borrow a high visibility vest (with a whistle and a light for attracting attention).