On its website, The International bills itself as a place “for those who want the world”. Having launched in November last year, it’s probably a tad early to affirm whether it makes good on that promise. But if you’re looking to Dine (with a capital “D”) somewhere opulence is front and centre, bookended by two of architect Harry Seidler’s modernist icons no less, you’ve come to the right spot.
More specifically, that “spot” is The Grill, or the middle of The International’s three levels, sandwiched between The Wine Bar and a loungey rooftop, The Panorama Bar. Should this venues-within-a-venue format trigger a sense of déjà vu, it’s no coincidence: The International is brought to you by The Point group, the squad behind nearby Shell House.
The common thread, mostly, is a proclivity for bling, both on a menu skirting 65 dishes (beluga caviar, big-name beef, lobster) and off (marble floors, custom Italian furniture, wood-panelled ceilings buffed to a mirror-like gleam). There’s an obvious fondness for the past at work, too, in the clubby, curvaceous and semi-alfresco room’s maroon and mustard tones, along with typeface and graphics that salute the precinct’s ’60s aesthetic.
Yet, even among all the usual expense-account bait, you’ll also find refinement of the more unexpected kind. Take the fancified snacks, such as a cuttlefish-stuffed chicken wing brushed in burnt-onion caramel, or a malted rye crumpet crowned with raw minced prawn and a creamy anchovy emulsion. Or a subversive take on surf ‘n’ turf starring marshmallow-soft veal sweetbreads and gently poached yabbies on a swipe of turnip purée.
Ultimately, people are here for sirloins, rump caps or whole flounders hot off the wood-burning grill. Culinary director Joel Bickford and his brigade know it, too, but they’re quietly flexing even while keeping things by the book.
Why not crumb cauliflower like a cotoletta, they ask, and garland it with petals, fioretto, garlic scapes and (albeit slightly underpowered) vegan peppercorn sauce? Why stick to duck breast when you can fashion the neck and other parts into a springy pistachio-studded sausage and serve both side-by-side with peaches, beluga lentils and a Sherry glaze?
Come dessert, you might question whether another ritzy entry to the CBD’s steak and seafood metaverse is really necessary. Let the faultless nectarine tarte Tatin with full-throttle vanilla ice-cream be your answer: you probably don’t need it, but you certainly wouldn’t turn it down.
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