Style And Substance

There’s drama in the look and on the plate at the new Kisumé, but does it all add up to good times? Michael Harden puts it through its paces.

- Michael Harden

Here are some of the things I’ve eaten at Kisumé. Gloriously fatty otoro nigiri, precision sliced that day from the belly of a whole bluefin. Wagyu meatballs stuffed with mozzarella and served with truffle mayo. Greasy pork and kimchi gyoza bewilderingly topped with salad greens, discs of striped beetroot and a balsamic reduction. Translucent King George whiting dusted with golden-yellow karasumi. Marinated olives, a pastry finger spotty with black truffles and truffled potato purée, complimentary snacks in the top-level Chablis Bar.

Try to get your head around that lot. Just what the hell kind of Japanese restaurant is this?

For starters, Kisumé is a Chris Lucas production, so getting your head around it is kind of beside the point. Nobody goes to a Lucas restaurant – Chin Chin, Baby, Kong, Hawker Hall – in search of a by-the-book culturally authentic-sensitive dining experience. His genre has long been restaurant as nightclub, all crowds, thumping tunes, flashy design and cocktails built for thrillseekers.

Even given the head-spinning amount of time and money (12 months for the build alone and a price tag in the millions) thrown at Kisumé’s design, recruitment and produce, and a reservations policy that eliminates the queue, it’s still very much a Lucas restaurant. So the better question to ask is: are we having fun yet?

The answer is a definite yes. Though there are pearl-clutching moments along the way.

The first of these comes with the décor.