Cloudstreet – Chef Rishi's Rebirth
When Rishi Nalendra, esteemed Michelin-starred chef announced the closure of the much beloved Cheek By Jowl, or Cheek as the regulars called it, the local F&B scene wept. An establishment that had for so long been known for its well-executed modern Australian fare was gone too soon, shockingly less than a year after receiving its first star. I too, mourned the loss on a personal level. It was at Cheek that I had my very first Michelin-starred dining experience, decided upon after carefully reading reviews and heavily researching and comparing various local restaurants of the same calibre.
To say I was excited, when Chef Rishi announced his new concept Cloudstreet, set to open in July 2019 would be an understatement. But life got in the way for the latter half of 2019 as I got swept up in work, friends’ weddings and overseas trips. Then in early 2020 as I made plans with friends to book Cloudstreet in March, the COVID-19 lockdown happened. Finally, almost a year later in early January 2021, the stars seemed to align and with the help of a friend I managed to get a dinner slot on a Thursday evening.
***
On entering Cloudstreet, I was greeted by Manuela Toniolo, head of service and Chef Rishi’s wife, my temperature taken as part of COVID prevention protocol and brought to the counter area. Work and rain got in the way of my 7pm seating so I was slightly late and my friends were already seated by the counter. After scanning a QR code to check-in, sanitising my hands and placing my mask in a fancy paper envelop provided by the restaurant, dinner service began.
We started off with a single oyster, grilled and wrapped in a betel leaf and topped with finger limes, probably one of Australia’s most well-known gourmet exports. The flavours blended smoothly, ending off with a bright tang from the limes. In fact, it reminded me of one of the favourites from Cheek’s old menu, an oyster topped with a tomato granita. Perhaps it was an homage of sorts to Cheek.
If you are expecting the dishes to be something even remotely similar to the old Cheek by Jowl, then this oyster dish is where the similarities end. What came next was a trio of appetisers, each perfectly executed. A pickled mussel mousse sandwiched between two dark green wafers that resembled a shell, a potato and egg yolk concoction so fragile I could barely snap a photo before having to eat it in one bite and finally a mini tart filled with pate and topped with cranberry caviar. Alone, each bite was a harmonious individual experience, but together, they set the tone for the dinner, each one pushing the diners out of their comfort zones bit by bit. Teasing and challenging our palettes for what was to come.
After two more equally interesting starters, it was time for the first main dish. As the server lay the plates in front of us, the anticipation was palpable. At first glance, it just looks like a heap of froth you get from a sudsy bubble bath or as the server joked with us “scooped out from the sink after we washed the plates”. A white sea of foam in the middle of a matte black plate. Simple, unassuming, yet mysterious and exciting all at once. I dug in like a kid on Christmas morning ripping through wrapping paper. The scent of citrusy bergamot foam hit my nose first while juicy Korean muscat grapes brought out the sweetness of the succulent Korean pen shell clams. Briny trout roe added the final note that brought the entire symphony of flavours and textures to a crescendo. This was mind-blowing, and I wanted more.
The next few dishes did not disappoint. One was a millefeuille carefully constructed with wafer-thin pieces of celeriac and shaved perigord truffle, or as one of my dining companions so eloquently put it, “it’s like fancy kueh lapis” referring to the local colourful Chinese dessert. This was followed by a the crowd favourite of the night – Marron with a spicy coconut milk broth, similar to that of a Tom Yum soup. The presentation was immaculate – a piece of gleaming Marron sat atop a spoonful of grits and millet, a dollop of browned butter on the opposite side, sprinkled with edible flowers. It almost looked too beautiful to eat. Like the dishes that preceded this one, it was a sublime. The sweet fish complementing the salty grits and savoury butter. A sip of spicy broth in between bites added another layer of complexity to the already fine balance of flavours swirling around in my mouth. It was a masterpiece.
In between dishes, Chef Rishi came by to greet us and ask us how the dinner was going so far. When we asked about the difference between Cheek and Cloudstreet, he said that he was never really happy with the menu and concept at Cheek, even after the Michelin Star. It wasn’t serving true to his vision. “Cheek was here,” he said as he raised his left hand to his waist, “ but with Cloudstreet, I think we’ve brought it here.” He adds as he brings up his right hand, motioning to the difference in standard and menu between the two concepts. “I was never really happy at Cheek, but I’m happier here at with what we’ve done at Cloudstreet.”
After a few more small plates, it was time for the bread course. While I love my carbs, bread is something you don’t really write about when reviewing a meal at a Michelin-starred establishment. But this – this was something else entirely. A small unassuming roll of brown Guinness Stout bread, glazed with molasses and served with a slab of French butter and flakes of sea salt looked innocuous enough until I had a bite. The warm bread was slightly sticky and sweet on the outside, with a savoury earthy flavour, it reminded me of molasses fruitcakes at Christmas. Perfectly warm, soft and comforting – a brief respite from the past two hours of wild flavour profiles and unimaginable ingredient combinations bordering on absurd.
We had now come to final main course, the supposed piéce de resistance, a generous slice of dry aged Australian wagyu beef topped with freshly shaved Perigord Truffle. For all the pomp and spice, unfortunately this dish failed to live up to my expectations. While the beef and the accompanying sauce had a rich, clean taste, the truffle did not add much to elevate the dish. Overall it was a decent dish, nothing to shout about, but nothing to complain about either.
As the server cleared our plates, it was finally for my favourite part of the meal (well any meal really) – dessert. When one thinks of dessert, sweet treats usually containing ingredients like chocolate, cream, fruit and nuts come to mind, but not here at Cloudstreet.
Like the opening appetisers, dessert came in the form of three bites. The first, a galangal sorbet sitting atop a cloud of goat’s cheese marshmallow and a base of apple chunks and onion jam. Second, a bite of cherry pie spiked with black garlic pieces. And finally, a red miso ice cream paired with an herbaceous artichoke tea. Chef Rishi’s wife Manuela, who was explaining the idea behind the dish, joked that they like to make their guests eat their veggies and disguise them in the form of desserts. Where a lesser chef might have struggled with these unconventional ingredients in a dessert course, here Chef Rishi made them sing. My personal favourite of the three was the first one. Galangal, the fruitier more floral cousin of ginger, in the form of a sorbet was at once spicy yet refreshing. The creamy goat’s cheese marshmallow and onion jam added a savoury dimension to the dish.
True to his style of fusing Australian influences into his food, we ended off with small snacks, one of which was a Vegemite biscuit. And just like that, our four-hour gastronomic rollercoaster ride was over.
***
To have a meal at Cloudstreet is to experience everything that Chef Rishi has become. Braver, bolder, no longer burdened by the expectations of others to create fine dining as they saw it, but fine dining as he envisioned it. It is a sum of his travels, his experiences and his relationships with the places he lived and loved. It is his life in a series of bites big and small. This is a Chef that has dug deep, who has tried to express his vision with utmost honesty, baring himself on every plate. And the fine dining world is a better off place for it.
“So why Cloudstreet?” we asked him at the end of our meal. “I named it after a novel,” he said referring to the popular Australian novel by Tim Winton. “Sometimes, there doesn’t have to be a meaning you know. I just liked the name Cloudstreet, so that’s what I named my restaurant.” Chef Rishi revealed shyly, as if letting us in on a secret.
Indeed Chef Rishi, keep doing things your way, exactly how you like it.