Restaurant Sixty Six (King William Road, Goodwood)

There’s a sense of doom that comes with forgetting your credit card when you’re supposed to be shouting someone a birthday dinner. Forgoing all the eateries up the ‘popular’ end of the street near the Hyde Park Tavern, we had zoomed merrily towards Restaurant 66 before I realised that my credit card was sitting patiently on my desk at home after making some pay-day eBay purchases earlier that afternoon.

Back home again on the other side of town with the required card now returned to its rightful top slot in my wallet, we called Restaurant 66 to ask them if we could still eat at the rather late (for Adelaide) hour of 9:45pm. ‘No problem’ came the reply, and so we sped back through the city to arrive to a nearly empty restaurant bar two women dissecting their relationships in great detail over some luscious looking desserts.

I’m always a bit nervous going to a new restaurant. You never know what might happen, especially as the last three months overseas had produced some Fawtly Towers like the time when I had asked for a spoon and been presented with two black coffees, spiked with whiskey. At Restaurant 66, the charming entrance down a lantern lit path and proprietor Greg’s friendly approach ensured we were in for a good night.

Offered the prime pick of tables in front of the window overlooking King William St, the atmosphere was cosy if a little quiet due to the lack of other diners. But no complaints, because it meant we had Greg’s full attention.

The menu showed somewhat schizophrenic tendencies, with elaborately sauced French style dishes sitting awkwardly alongside Asian style offerings including a pub-esque Salt n Pepper Squid, a Quail entrée which sounded more like a chocolate bar with its fruit and nut glaze, and a Massaman Chicken Curry that ended the list of French style main courses.

The special of the night ‘two things which turns into five’ was a red and green curry, which came with beef or duck for the red curry, and chicken, prawns or interestingly, salmon with the green.

The website describes Restaurant 66 as ‘Provincial French and Modern Australian’ but, on the night we were there at least, it was more accurately ‘Provincial French or Thai’. Don’t be fooled; there’s no fusion going on here.

Beginning with some sparkling mineral water and a bottle of Skillogallee Rose, which Greg told us was ‘in the style of Alicante’ and therefore our pick of the night, we pondered whether to go down the French or Asian path tonight before both settling on the European continent. I chose the Salmon Béarnaise ($30.50) with its asparagus, crushed potatoes, baby spinach and ‘66’s Sensational House Made Béarnaise Sauce’ while my companion went for the Duck Montmorency ($31.50), which appealed for the sour cherry and cherry brandy glaze.

On enquiring about how the salmon came (I have been wary ever since working at a restaurant where the default was ‘medium rare’) Greg assured me that Restaurant 66 was ‘traditional, not trendy’, and my salmon would be cooked through.

After an appropriate pause, say one or two glasses of wine, the food arrived on large, square plates. Now, decent plating will impress me anyday, but there was something special going on in front of me. Not only did my salmon proudly wear a corner of its crunchy crust under the béarnaise, but, perched on top of a few nicely crisped baby potatoes, it managed to still look like food, and good food at that. Extra points here in a time where artistically arranged titbits on a plate often masquerade as your meal.

The duck was similarly impressive, though a heavy note of rosemary, unmentioned in the menu, made it difficult for me to taste the sour cherry. Apparently it was splendid though. The ‘Snow White’ mashed potato was by all reports deliciously creamy, though it came moulded into a somewhat unnerving round shape. I prefer my mash served in a bit more of an anarchic fashion, sprawling across the plate so that it can do its job of looking after stray juices that escape from the meat.

After such an impressive meal, we were happy, pleasantly full and a little tipsy. The desserts we had seen looked luscious but looking over the menu Greg told us that our two choices weren’t available. ‘We just tried the pannacotta and it’s not set yet. It was horrible!’.

It’s not often that you’ll get such honesty from a restaurateur, but it was this charming candour form Greg that endeared him to us. Earlier, he had poured the wine in what he considered to be in the wrong order, and we assured him that we didn’t really mind about these things. Later, as we finished our mains, he rushed over looking a little sheepish. ‘It’s probably a bit late to ask, but is everything ok?’

With nothing else on the dessert menu that particularly appealed to us, we decided a cheese platter would be a good way to end the night, and our bottle of wine. It arrived with the heavy wooden board dwarfing the slivers of cheese. Now, it’s often the case that you feel slightly ripped off ordering a cheese platter – perhaps because it doesn’t seem like much effort or product for your money – but in this case, it seemed worse because the mains had been spot on.

Here we had a few slivers of cheese (including a delicious yet inexpensive cumin infused one I regularly buy at the Central Market) a single cherry tomato, a strawberry, a few sultanas, almonds and cashews, and some standard-issue crackers. It took us all of five minutes to inhale the morsels while we finished the wine.

Another sting came when the bill arrived. It turned out that my 300mL bottle of sparkling water, from some all natural granite source or other in Victoria, had cost me ten of my hard earned dollars. The bottle of wine we had enjoyed, which sold for $16 or so down the road shop had enjoyed a 100% mark up at $34. Though probably not uncommon in the restaurant industry, after the cheese platter and alongside a $10 bottle of water it didn’t slide down so well.

Win some; lose some. Restaurant 66 was a bit hit and miss for us, but the food is damn good, doing justice to its style, and worth the outlay for the mains. Assuming the Modern Australian sector performs equally well, then this restaurant has all the ticks where it counts – pricing issues and cheese portioning being issues only for those of us who are poor and starving – probably not Greg’s usual clientele. It’s friendly, not fussy, and certainly worth a visit for a special night out or a celebration.