Red Cabbage

     Tonight was a "night out" for Kev and me.  Occasionally a restaurant will come to our attention and hold it until we finally say "do we have a coupon? Let's go!".  The Red Cabbage was  just such a place and it is listed in the Entertainment Book. Woo hoo! So I dressed up in a nice light, cream-colored outfit my mother sent, Kev put on a shirt that only I appreciate  and we set out into the mild evening.
    The interior rather matches the name-  it's contemporary, but not without a little quirk. A nod to its upscale placement is wonderful artwork of Dom Perignon himself painted on a wall and a five-foot champagne bottle on the veranda. The table linen is white with a sheet of white paper on top. Our waiter is a Dutch guy named Mees (pronounced mace). The menu is short but interesting.  We each order an appetizer, a main and a steamed vegetable to share.
    Oh, look. An amuse buche is delivered to our table before any food. It is a mini cup of bacon potato soup. Yum.  Our appetizers arrive: marron and a sliver of salmon on a cupcake of shredded cabbage for Kev, confit of pork belly with apple squares delicately decorated with a single purple herb stem.  So artsy, so beautiful, so tasty.  Look again, a shot glass of gelati  lemon mousse to cleanse our palates before the main entree.  Nice touch.  Here comes Kev's partridge dish and my venison dusted with cocoa powder on beet puree with ravioli of feta.    And if I had a magnifying glass, I could tell you what it looked like.  Both venison tournedos were hiding beneath a single ravioli.  Kev's partridge came in three different ways: a leg, in a pie and as part of a pairing --and all in miniature. 
     The food was all very good to eat.  The service was  attentive. The prices were not 'other worldly' for Perth.  But microdot servings are what keep people like Kev and I away from restaurants I would otherwise like to try every blue moon.  Even the 25% off coupon  could not bring this otherwise very delicious food into value for money.  Many a restaurant could be doing the public's health some good by reducing portion sizes, but expensive restaurants defy this supersize trend in a serious way. Perhaps a microscope could be made available at each table so people can see what they are eating. And tissues at the register when customers have to part with money for the illusion.
      Kev is now munching on crackers and dip.  And restauranteurs here wonder why business is down.