Copperhead Restaurant Brewery, reviewed by Trevor Pepys
Trevor Pepys has never been much of a fan of boutique breweries or craft beer, for that matter, having regarded XXXX as the gold standard and Bintang as an impossibly exotic guilty pleasure for nigh on half a century now.
When he was learning his chops in the journalism game at a newspaper factory (and I use the term advisedly) in a far-off city, a large brewery was strategically situated across the street, and toilers on the graveyard shifts of the paper were occasionally invited to late night sessions in the tasting room. Now this was drinking in a brewery. The olfactory assault of hops and human sweat that hit you as you entered still sends shivers up the spine in the telling, and the foamy libations poured off the wood, and the blokes in blue aprons and the naughty songs into the wee hours … ah, you had to be there. But you understand why Trevor Pepys might find the modern industrial chic version just a little second-rate.
But even an old dog can learn new tricks, and pre-Covid your reviewer was occasionally to be seen learning to love an India Pale Ale or a Japanese Lager at one of the many brew-houses in the factory zones. The other day in Cooroy however, I found myself at the luncheon hour, following a ramble through rough country that no man has seen since Walter Hay blazed the Cobb and Co track, with a thirst you could photograph and an appetite to match.
A good old pub counter lunch seemed the go, but at the Victory Hotel we were defeated by shuttered doors, and were on our way to Tewantin when the Copperhead Brewery beckoned. The rambling companion (in more ways than one) pulled up in front and declared, “This’ll do.”
“This’ll do” is not an expression that fits within the philosophy of Tucker With Trevor, but the thirst was making breathing difficult, so we entered at pace and demanded a beer list. Rambling Man took a schooner of the Copper Mid ($9) while I opted for the Cooroy Lager ($10), both of which had disappeared before our waitress had turned around. She made haste to recharge our glasses while we surveyed the menu and our surroundings, which were pleasant, tasteful and sun-splashed on a warm winter afternoon. A bit too much of club dining room decor for Trevor’s taste, but apart from the Best of Barry Manilow on the turntable, certainly nothing to offend, and the Covid-distanced tables enabled the Rambling Man and I to conduct a private conversation about overthrowing the world order without fear of foreign ears.
But the tucker! You knew Trev would get to it and here he is.
To soak up the damn fine beer, Rambler and I shared an entree of lamb meat balls, Greek-smoked tomato sauce, tzatziki, herbs and flat bread ($16), followed by a main of confit duck, ancient grains, grape jelly, pan juices and watercress ($32), and a side of good old-fashioned chips ($9), just to remind us that we were meant to be having a counter lunch.
The meat balls were delicious, the smokiness of the sauce required a little imagination, but then again, Trevor Pepys has been spoiled by the smoky sauces simmering outside a favoured cafe just above Megalos Mourtias Beach on the island of Alonnisos in the Aegean Sea, to which he will return, perhaps in another life the way the pandemic is going. But for now, my Copperhead balls served with delicious flat bread were just fine.
Our shared confit duck also transported me to Europe, this time to the pays Basque, where it was always a toss of a coin in the tantina between the cod and the duck, and neither disappointed. Nor did our Copperhead confit, which was succulent but just firm enough to know that it once quacked. Asked for his opinion, Rambling Man astounded with this: “Quite elegant in its combination of flavours. And the chips were crispy too.”
The verdict: so much more than a pub lunch and, of course, you pay for the difference. But chef Mark Potter is doing a fine job of adding the flavours of the world to the best of local produce. And then there’s the beer. The list is very more-ish. Designate a driver.
Copperhead Restaurant Brewery, 52 Kauri Street, Cooroy
5442 6975, copperheadbrewery.com.au
