Under the Prive Group, The Wolf of Club Street, with no relation to Leonard DiCRAPio, is a nose-to-tail dining restaurant (meaning it uses all parts of the animal from nose to tail without wastage), and is different from the Australian nose-to-tail restaurants I’ve been. The focus at Wolf is pork, not beef, and Prive wasted no oppunity (opportunity to pun), embossing 3 little pigs on its tables, and putting 3 little pigs on its coasters. You may huff, you may puff, but you won’t blow down the solid, first rate decor; a careful attention to details. (See, I can have my oppunity moment too.) If you’re sitting at the bar, pay attention at the stubs of animals under it.
Speaking of careful attention, we were very well looked after. The male (I assume) manager was articulated, knew his stuff, dignified without being condescending. Midway through our meal, I saw him at the corner of my eyes, waiting for us to end our conversation (that should be the right way of service). I finished what I was saying to my partner, turned to the manager, and he asked, “How is the meal so far?”
“It is OK,” I replied.
He said, “If you have any feedback or request, or if you find anything wrong, please let me know. I’ll see what I can do.” And he left us alone for the rest of the meal. This was exemplary service. Service staff should just check in once, not 49 times, and leave patrons alone. 10/10 for service.
The food was better than OK. Our set lunch ($32 for 2 courses, $36 for 3) started with Nduja, a spicy spreadable pork sausage (like a pate), which wasn’t spicy; and Iberico pork cheek nuggets (+$2, above) on salad, which despite its minor faults (too salty, I said; too “porky” my partner said), was quite tasty.
For mains, the sea bass was accomplished, moist with a crispy skin, but the piece de resistance was the grilled Dingley Dell Duroc pork collar (above), amazing skills, not greasy, cooked medium well so that it was still tender but won’t give you swine flu. High quality ingredients too, evident by the sweet cherry tomatoes.
The desserts were tour de force. The pear tart tatin (+$2) was a MUST ORDER. The rustic tart shell tasted like croissant shell drenched in caramel, very sticky, sticking to teeth; pear remained crunchy; and combined with a good homemade (I guess) vanilla ice cream, it was a dream out of a French grandma’s kitchen. The other dessert, rosemary lemon posset with pistachio shortbread (above), wasn’t as showy, but equally good. Though I couldn’t taste the rosemary and pistachio, the chilled posset, or curdled milk tinged with lemon, was light and refreshing, contrasting with the crumbly but soft texture of shortbread.
Every year, I scout for restaurants to host RERG’s annual Christmas dinner. Found it. Doubtlessly there are some restaurants I ate this year that are better than Wolf, but the ease and tenderness Wolf affords are as comforting as wool on a newborn sheep. You can say Wolf is a sheep in wolf’s clothing. We spent $90 for two persons.
Written by A. Nathanael Ho.