


After the Tears

Dani Valent, Reviewer
March 18, 2008

Those looking for a pre-flick meal, post-movie nibbles or vodka will enjoy this new restaurant.

After the Tears.

After the Tears.

9B Gordon St, Elsternwick
(03) 9523 0969
Other European
Daily, 11am to 11pm
Visa, EFTPOS, AMEX, Mastercard, Diners Club
Price Guide
Entrees $9.50-$13.50, mains $20-$23, desserts $7-$10

Andrzej Kaczmarski, one of the owners of Windsor's Borsch, Vodka and Tears, has extended the brand of soupy, alcoholic, lachrymal fun a little further south and opened a branch adjoining Elsternwick's Classic Cinema. What a good idea. The new restaurant is a little more Mitteleurope than its Chapel Street cousin, and it works for a pre-flick meal and for post-movie nibbles, so long as your film doesn't finish after 11pm.

The food is Polish: come hungry. The borsch (beetroot soup) is very good, with a light vegetable base, grated beetroot, white beans, potato, carrot and cabbage. Dill, a splash of vinegar and a blob of sour cream give the soup zing and lift. Nice, doughy rye bread is on hand. A trio of sausages is surprisingly pretty, with contrasting colours and a vague windmill arrangement. There's a Kransky with angry-looking cross-hatches, a blushing Vienna frankfurter and a forthright Polish bratwurst. They're accompanied by piquant tomato relish, sharp horseradish cream and a nose-clearing mustard. There's more meat in the bigos, a complex and hearty stew of sausage, pork shoulder, pickled cabbage, prunes and dried mushrooms. This traditional hunter's meal is an end-of-winter mash-up of pantry leftovers. Chef Philip Tait reckons it's also a sure-fire hangover cure, which would be handy knowledge around here.

After all, the Tears calls itself a vodka bar and fair enough too. I got giddy just looking at the long list of spirits on offer. There's vodka infused with herbs, spices, fruits, probably even with bear barf if you scour the menu long enough. I started with a medicinal vodka and finished with the flaming absinthe - if it's on fire, I have to try it. The waitress arrived with water, sugar and the evil spirit, created a mini-inferno, then left me to it. The spectacle was great but I can't say I loved the taste - meths, maybe, with a hint of turpentine. It probably wasn't the best drink to knock back before sitting down to watch Daniel Day-Lewis descend into madness. I think I was ahead of him.

Service was cheery to the point of cuddly. Our touchy-feely waitress clutched my date's shoulder and declared that she liked him. That's great, so do I. The love-in was undercut by minor hiccups with order-taking, plate-clearing and bill-bringing. Prompt service is always important but it's absolutely crucial when you're feeding people with movie tickets in their hands. There's nothing nice about stumbling late into row D still chewing your sauerkraut. An express menu lists antipasti, soups and stews for those with 30 minutes or less to eat.

I'm sure it doesn't happen every night, but there were tears on the night we ate here. One customer sobbed, supported by a clutch of friends, not a vodka in sight. It was a very windy night and there were gusts every time the front door opened. One man, sick of his microclimate, moved himself and his food to a more sheltered spot. He did it without a word to his wife, who stayed pinned to her original chair, spooning her borsch in the breeze. Another table complained histrionically about the bill, hairspray and comb-overs aquiver. Flames, floods of tears, fighting: with restaurant theatre like this, who needs the movies?

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