Our surroundings were gorgeously appointed but undeniably deserted. They agreed it was all beautiful and sounded fantastic. But it was so quiet. Where was everyone? This from baby boomers who have known Perth a long time, and visited for extended periods over decades. I explained, rather apologetically, that we’d spent all our mining boom money on these spaces. Now we had jobs and a tanking economy and no one was out spending, rather sheltering inside until they rebuilt the equity in their mortgage. In short, we had “built it” but no one had come.

Never mind. I’d heard the food was good at this new place. Loading It had already struck a wrong note. I’d called to book, sick of having to do everything online, sign up to booking websites that then add me to email lists I have to then unsubscribe to. I just wanted to ring up, give a surname and number, have a friendly human jot it down. I know, I’m a dinosaur. I spoke to a friendly human, but then he asked for my email. I sighed and gave it. I got an email “delighted to confirm my booking”.

It gave me information about the experience I was about to have. It sounded rather like warnings. “Please note our dining area consists of a variety of high bar tables and low line seating,” it warned. “Your table will be held for 15 minutes after your reservation time. Please advise us if you will be late.” It went on to warn I would only have the table for two hours. If I required longer I was to contact the restaurant. But I was NOT TO REPLY to the email, because it was system-generated.

Jeez, I thought. Didn’t know Perth restaurants were so busy at the moment they needed to enforce two-hour turnaround. But at least the email was just a confirmation and didn’t require any duplicated action. Then, that very evening, I received another email. It repeated all the warnings. It asked me to confirm the booking I had rung and made and had confirmed that very morning. I sighed again and obediently clicked to confirm. ...we had “built it” but no one had come. When we arrived, the place was thankfully less dead than outside, though it was by no means full.

Our reserved table, in old-school terms, would have been called a booth. But they weren’t high-backed comfy seats you could slide into and settle cosily down at like you think of when you think of a booth. This was like a church pew, hard and narrow. Loading The seats were filled with innumerable cushions that reduced us to perching on the very edge of the pew with our knees sideways against the table that was not table height but by our knees. We solved this problem by removing all the big hard cushions — I know, somehow they managed to buy hard cushions — and piled them between us and the window so we could sit back a little. Our waiter greeted us, warning again that we only had two hours, despite the restaurant being half empty.

When our food arrived my 70-year-old aunt and uncle ate crouched forward, craned over their plates on the table in front of their knees. I just brought my plate up to my lap. To hell with it. The seating was much like what I described some months ago, just after East Perth's major Ku De Ta venture close, when I wrote about why it was doomed from the start. I’d said Ku De Ta expected you to sit at casual pub-style seats and get informal, indifferent pub-style service but still expected you to pay top restaurant prices for restaurant-style food and wine. This new place ain’t a pub but a restaurant, with table service, low lighting, thoughtful decor and not a bottle of wine under $50. The food prices are reasonable, the service pleasant if slow, the food itself excellent. I definitely had a better experience than at Ku De Ta. But it was uncomfortable. I spied on everyone else, awkwardly perched on backless stools at high tables, or crouched over their knees at low tables. It was fine to have a drink, but we were eating a multi-course meal.

After the dinner I got yet another email asking to provide feedback. Well, here it is. Loading I don’t think the emails or seats or all the warnings and rules are big deals in themselves. Hell, at least they take bookings and I understand table turnaround is necessary sometimes (though still doubt Perth restaurant demand justifies it right now). But it all combined into something a bit impersonal, a bit cold, like they cared less about the experience and more about what interior designers thought would look great in photographs. After Ku De Ta closed there was much commentary about how Perth doesn’t measure up to the east for dining. I do think Perth has all the ingredients to make for a world-class dining scene but the the experience I just had is ammunition for such critics.