The new Fremantle bar and kitchen that wants to party like it’s 1989

Previous SlideNext Slide

Jody and Kenny McHardy walk into in a pre-loved dining room in Fremantle’s east end and take a good look around. Where others might see dirty windows and the ghosts of restaurants past, the McHardys see potential, opportunity and the foundations for a vibrant, community eatery and bar.

The year is 2015. The dining room is the former home of the upbeat, clickety-fingered Box Pizza and, before that, the aptly titled fish cafe, Sardine. Perth eaters now know it as Manuka Woodfire Kitchen: a rousing endorsement for West Australian producers and the magic of wood-fired ovens. The restaurant’s success is a testament to the hard graft, patience and – perhaps most importantly – optimism of the McHardys.

Nine years on, and that McHardy optimism is still going strong. So much so that the couple, clearly of the belief that it is possible for lightning to strike the same pocket of High Street twice, have turned their attention to another Freo address: the former port city outpost of aburi (blow-torched) sushi specialist, The Modern Eatery. In March, three months after getting the keys to their new space, the couple announced the arrival of Shirley’s, a cosy wine bar encapsulating the enthusiasm powering modern-day Freo.

Not that the McHardys simply copied and transplanted their first child 40 metres around the corner. Whereas Manuka is stripped back and dark, team Shirley’s have the lights and colour turned up. Soft pastel pinks are played off against the grey off the polished concrete floor. Plants abound. The bar’s name is immortalised in white neon cursive against a red patch of wallpaper featuring native birds.

And while Manuka is unquestionably a restaurant, Shirley’s identity is a little more fluid. You can snack here, you can dine here, you can drop in just to drink. (Having said that, for a self-proclaimed wine bar, Shirley’s would benefit from pumping up the voltage of its tame, albeit serviceable, by-the-glass options. If you’re buying by the bottle, however, there’s more to get excited about, especially within that $50 to $65 bracket where management have packed a lot of cool stuff.)

The biggest difference between Shirley’s and Manuka, however, is the cooking. Whereas Manuka uses smoking, pickling, roasting, grilling, fermenting and other à la mode kitchen techniques to win over diners, the food at Shirley’s goes the other way by borrowing liberally from the past and serving what could reasonably be called “Aussie classics” in all their CWA, Australian Women’s Weekly splendour. Considering Shirley’s is named after Jody’s octogenarian grandmother, perhaps we should have seen this plot twist coming.

Take the smoked fish party pie ($7; which seems to be the going rate for all the snacks), a four-bite wonder that’s as comforting as it is nostalgic. Buttery house-made pastry enveloping flakes of juicy Mandurah mullet off-set by a loose tartare sauce equals the tuna bake of our dreams. Kin to the fish pie is the steak and cheese party pie ($7) with house ketchup: another micronised pastry teeming with big “country servo” energy.

In addition to his shortcrust pie pastry, Kenny (he’s the chef, Jody has worked, on and off, front-of-house – the couple met at the Bunbury Lighthouse Beach Resort in 2005 when he was the chef and she was the receptionist) also makes a crisp and sturdy hot water tart shell that he might fill with sheep’s curd then top with a cooling jumble of diced tomatoes plus a basil pesto ($7). If you like, this tart shell reappears at meal’s end freighting a sweet, pale custard ($7).

House-baked spelt rolls are transformed into garlic bread ($7; somewhat on the subtle side which kind of misses the point of garlic bread) while a gluten-free focaccia with saltbush butter ($7; also house-made) ensures everyone can carb-load together. Or maybe it’ll be the wobbly baked polenta ($24) fortified with melted smoked mozzarella and pickled mushrooms – a dish that’s equally at home playing the role of side or main – that anchors your dinner?

When opening Manuka, Kenny inherited a wood-fired oven that he built the restaurant’s menu and identity around. No such luck this time, however. Instead, he’s picked up a second-hand Jagrd wood-fired grill, stuck it in his kitchen behind the bar and is now happily exploring a new discipline of open fire-cooking. So far, so very good.

Skewers ($14) might feature beef with chimichurri, a Siamese-inflected lemongrass chicken, or tender pennies of octopus dressed with a sauce made with the spicy spreadable Italian salami, nduja. The menu’s biggest-ticket dish is the sirloin with bone marrow butter and caramelised onions ($48). The beef comes from Binningup Butchers, is dry-aged at Shirley’s, grilled over wood, and comes in just a shade over the requested medium-rare requested.

Those that like their steak – especially a cut like sirloin – buttery and ultra-fatty might feel like there’s a bit too much chewing being asked of guests. Those that like texture and using their teeth at the dinner table (guilty!) will be fine.

And sometimes the grill’s influence is a little more understated. Why are the peeled, tail-on prawns in the prawn cocktail ($28) approximately one thousand times more delicious than the tiny, insipid crustaceans so frequently found in lesser prawn cocktails? Because they’re from Shark Bay, poached, refrigerated, then quickly and gently warmed on the grill before being coated with a herb oil. Kenny, it’s worth mentioning, isn’t the only chef in Perth raiding the Margaret Fulton archives and old family albums for inspiration. But whereas some cooks like playing fast and loose with the classics, our man’s approach of cooking the familiar with quiet reverence and confidence feels almost wholesome.

“You’ve got to look for the dinge,” said a friend to me that I bumped into at the Shirley’s bar. We were discussing Freo’s gradual shapeshift from underdog working class stronghold to something a little more cosmopolitan.

He wasn’t wrong. Although Freo still has an abundance of character and character, change is afoot. Perch yourself at one of the stools in the Shirley’s window and you’ll spy the sleek, modern-day stylings of Walyalup Koort (nee Kings Square) and FOMO, the born-again Myer building. The outdoor TV screen of a nearby sports bar is big and clear enough to pick out the red and white jerseys of the Sydney Swans that are playing West Coast. By opening venue number two, the McHardys are publicly expressing that they want in on the new Fremantle.

When whispers of Shirley’s began circulating through the local rumour mill, I built up this narrative in my head that it would be a holding station for Manuka: perhaps what Tania Nicolo and Ryan Bookless – the owners of Wembley’s Monsterella – envisioned when they opened Mummucc a few doors down from their wildly popular family restaurant. The story I had sold myself was wrong.

Shirley’s is its (her?) own venue and more than capable of, like Mummucc, standing unassisted on its own feet. Sure, Shirley’s would be an excellent option for an aperitif or pre-dinner party pie ahead of a meal at Manuka or any other nearby restaurant (I’ve heard promising early reports about the new H&C Urban Winery nearby). It also seemed to slot effortlessly into the late-night itinerary of a small hen’s group working its way through Freo on Saturday.

But for anyone who decides to make Shirley’s the main event of a night out, the only FOMO you’ll likely contend with is the one across the road. The evolution of the port city continues apace.