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Scorcher reviews: Angus and Bon

Angus and Bon
168 Greville St, Prahran

Click PLAY below to hear the full review on 3AW Breakfast

“I’m looking towards the rib-eye, I’m gonna eat a jailsteak.”

Ok, sincere apologies for that bad lyrical pun.

I feel I must warn you now, there may be more of those on the way, so proceed with caution.

I hope I don’t leave you, dear reader, thunderstruck by my riffs of punny lameness.

This week I duckwalked my way down to Angus and Bon, a swanky, rock-and-roller of a steakhouse named in honour of the two great men from AC/DC.

Perched in a prime possie on Greville St, Angus and Bon has got some serious swagger.

You feel it the moment you push through the tall doors and into the cavernous bistro-bar.

Housed in the former Prahran Post Office, the space has morphed into a monastery of meat.

Exposed brick walls, a bold, square marble bar that commands attention in the centre of the room and plush, brown-leather booths make Angus and Bon a pleasant highway to dwell.

We plonked down at an oversized booth, glass of Argentine malbec in hand, and I tell ya, it was a whole lotta cosy.

Given the restaurant’s name and its unstuffy mien you may expect to find the menu filled with items such as ‘TNT-bone’, ‘Back in Black Angus’ and ‘Long Way to the Chop’, but Angus and Bon takes its steak seriously.

The folk here, mercifully, don’t share my enthusiasm for bad puns.

Head chef Declan Carroll shoots to grill in the kitchen; he did five years as sous-chef at Rockpool before picking up the tongs at Angus and Bon.

This is a man who means business with his meat, a sergeant-at-arms of steak.

Dry-aged David Blackmore wagyu tip sirloin – beef that tastes like it’s been reared on massages by a Japanese monk and serenades of sweet lullabies – was succulent and smoky, beautifully charred and charming.

You know it has been given the attention it deserves.

Carroll may be the head of the kitchen but the wood grill is its beating heart.

“The grill is a living thing,” he tells me.

“Every single steak we cook is completely different than the one we cooked a few minutes ago.”

And you won’t find a timer anywhere near the kitchen.

“Our chefs are in touch with the beef – touching it and feeling it and looking at it and listening to it.

“Every single steak is treated the way it should be, rather than just chucked in the oven.”

The sides have been well thought out too.

I had serious bunny love for the slow-roasted carrots with carrot puree, goats curd and puffed grains – these were soft with punches of crunch, like the blast of a distortion pedal.

Grilled broccoli with anchovy, onion puree, crispy lamb and pangrattato joined the plate party and turned it into a tantalising ménage a trois.

Angus and Bon ain’t dirty feeds done dirt cheap (steaks range from $39 to $65) but I came away feeling far more cheery than I have done after dining at some of the fancier steak joints around the city; everyone has their favourites but this could be one to add to your list if you’re considering a special occasion steak night.

And on weekends, come for the bottomless brunches ($39), where bellinis, bloody marys and Aperol-spritzes flow as freely as Angus Young’s locks. Down a few of them and you’ll be shaking all night long.

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