Bob’s Steak & Chop House - 4.5 stars

I’ve got to admit, when I was told Docklands’ newest restaurant was called Bob’s Steak & Chop House, my first thought was I’d be reviewing some sort of sub-standard Chinese take-away. I’m sorry – is that racist?

My second thought, after being told it was actually a “premium” American steakhouse, was “Does Docklands really need another American steakhouse?”

The answer, I’m pleased to say, is yes. Because Docklands really doesn’t have anything quite like Bob’s, which manages to fuse steak and fine-dining in a surprisingly effective and distinctly “un-American” way.

The latest addition to Village Street sits beneath the National Foods building, next to The Goods Shed and opposite Etihad Stadium. It is perfectly positioned to capture the latest influx of corporate and “developer” types.

On the day I dined, there were indeed lots of big men in dark suits engaging in hard-core power lunches, sinking some very nice drops of red.

I’d purposely gone without breakfast, anticipating one of those over-sized Yankee-doodle kind of lunches with meat hanging off the plate, lashings of crazy rich sauces and enough wedges to feed Kansas.

Time for surprise number one. While the concept for Bob’s may hail from the States, the menu revealed there was quite a focus on Australian produce, with steaks from the Hopkins River lining up alongside Milawa chicken and Tasmanian salmon.

Surprise number two was the meals themselves. Constraint, not largesse, is the word that comes to mind.

A $19 crab cake initially had us raising an eyebrow, questioning our decision to share. But the rich, intense claw meat tightly packed within the cake was generous, while the honey mustard sauce was rightly drizzled with caution. Half each did us just fine – and had us issuing a respectful nod to each and every cent.

My companion’s 350g striploin was certainly not lacking but, rather than fighting for space with an unnecessarily large serving of carbs, was instead coupled politely with a respectful serving of “skillet” potatoes – doused, not drowning – in a peppercorn gravy.

My own Gourmet Black Angus Burger was equally impressive. With cheese, onion and all the usual condiments, it also featured a subtle chipotle mayonnaise and a fried egg. It was all there, but rather than spilling out allover my hands and plate, it sat neatly on the plate with an equally concise serving of “Bad Boy” steak fries – that looked as though they’d never misbehaved a day in their lives.

And while every mouthful of the broiled, medium rare burger was moist and bursting with flavour, the ingredients married together perfectly, refusing to stray from the wedlock of their bun. Which was lucky – cause Bob’s is not the kind of place where you lick yolk from between your fingers.

A lemon and lime tart provided the perfect finish to a meal that should have left me feeling heavy – but did not. Maybe the choice of a Tasmanian Pinot over the Heathcote Shiraz had something to do with that. The wine list is expansive and well-travelled – taking you from New Zealand, to Italy, France, Spain and of course, Australia and the States.

The interior matched the sophistication of both the wine and food and what the staff lacked in experience they made up for in eagerness (but note: no need to ask me if I’m enjoying my meal Sweetheart).

Honestly? It was hard to find fault with Bob’s. I have no doubt it will make a name for itself – if patrons are willing to look past its um … name.