Katherine MacAlister falls down a rabbithole into Michael Von Hruschka’s surreal new restaurant

My surreal evening at MVH was so unlikely it would have impressed Salvador Dali and rendered Magritte green with envy.

In fact, when I returned home and Mr Greedy asked how it went I was momentarily speechless. Where to start? With the deranged Kiwi mindreader who sat next to us at dinner and pretended she was one of our party? With the wonderfully eccentric staff and loopy menu? With the bizarre but delicious food?

Throw my Italian friend into the mix and we it made for a truly cosmopolitan evening even Harry Hill would have found hard to quantify. “I’m not sure,” was all I managed, “but Alice would have felt at home in this Wonderland.”

And yet it was an itch that needed scratching. The new restaurant had opened recently in North Parade on the site of the former Luna Caprese, Oxford’s oldest Italian which closed after 50 years. It now boasts Michael Von Hruschka who was awarded a Michelin star at his former restaurant The Birdcage in the West End, was executive head chef at Bangkok’s Oriental, I-Thai at London’s Hempel Hotel and more recently ran Michael’s Kitchen at Gloucester Green.

The smell of damp when we arrived indicated, however, that his cage is a bit tarnished now and that he was clutching on to his former accolades with both hands. Decor-wise, it was as if a student landlord had redecorated, hung some dodgy paintings, wheeled some strange ornaments into place to stop the punters falling down the stairs, and then shuffled into the kitchen to start cooking.

But the charming staff got us settled in, and ignoring our Antipodean fortune teller on the next table, we began chatting.

“I can tell you’re a career woman,” the New Zealander interrupted immediately, “and I’d like to guess what you do if you don’t mind, although I can tell it’s something unladylike. And you...”, she said pointing at my Italian friend who had been discussing the merits of pizza dough with great energy. “You’re so opinionated, you must be a journalist.”

Enter our lovely and extremely English Eric Morecombe lookalike waiter, stage left, who served us our first appetiser; steamed lentil bread with a tomato salsa, and the scene began to resemble an Inspector Clouseau movie.

Thanking him kindly and trying to ignore the continuing taunts of the mind-reading Kiwi, we tried to make head or tail of the menu. There were two, one by Michael, and one by someone called Jack. Jack’s was a daily offering, while Michael offered everything from Hungarian chilli pig with dumplings to fish and chips or jungle curry. Dishes from the Philippines, Malaysia and Thailand rubbed shoulders with the Austro-Hungarian empire as well as British staples. It was like a Second World War reunion dinner. The good news was that it was £23 for two courses or £29 for three, with coffee and petit fours, and I’m sure Michael was up to the job, wherever he chooses to lay his hat.

Opting for the mussels in a coriander, cucumber and lime broth, and the pea, mint and pumpkin seed soup, we were then surprised by the arrival of an unexpected amuse bouche of beetroot and ginger soup in a tiny teacup, which certainly woke up the taste buds.

Had I known, I wouldn’t have ordered soup for my starter, although the nutty-tasting green pea soup was also very nice, save for the American-style melted cheese sandwich which accompanied it. The mussels, however, were delicious: a great take on a classic dish, with the silky textures of Thailand sweeping through.

Oxford Mail:
Nibbles: Some of the table offerings

Next up was the chilli pig with handmade spätzle which sparked a fierce debate with my Italian companion on their comparison to gnocchi. The dish was basically a refined goulash with dumplings, the spätzle appearing as twists in the sweet pork dish which wasn’t as fiery as its title suggested. Neither was the jungle curry which we were warned off because of its inferno-like properties, capable of scalding my throat and melting my stomach lining if our waiter was anything to go by.

Appearing in an ornate clay pot with a lid, I tested it with great trepidation, but was unable to ascertain what all the fuss was about. Either I need to take up fire-eating as a hobby or it wasn’t as spicy as advertised. Accompanied by fragrant rice and yoghurt, like being taken into the middle of the Amazon and left there, leaving me vaguely disconcerted.

The eavesdropping Kiwi was by this time, busy telling anyone who would listen, that we were journalists, utterly blowing my cover, but we couldn’t quit now, not when the end was nigh. A pineapple semifreddo quencher appeared in a tiny ramekin, as we browsed the dessert menu.

“What’s a kalamansi I enquired? “It’s a lime that’s a lemon, in that it looks like a lemon but tastes like a lime, which is amazing because you’d never have thought a lemon could be a lime or the other way around...,” our waiter said, petering out. I tried it anyway, and the Italian picked the pear gratin.

The puddings turned out to be really good; the crème brûlée had the same exotic twist as the mussels, and was served with stewed raspberries. The pear was caramelized in discs like flattened banana fritters and served with handmade ice cream and nuts, like a deconstructed peach melba.

Cramming in the petit fours, “don’t review the coffee whatever you do,” my Italian friend spluttered, and we were out again on to the pavement, breathing deeply and wondering what on earth had gone on. “What are you going to write?” she asked me, only to find my car complete with parking ticket stuck to the window.

But on awakening the next morning, things were much clearer; the ambushing Kiwi spy was a mere decoy, and wasn’t a mind-reader at all but a busybody. And Michael’s food had elements of brilliance, but the fusion aspect didnt work for me and the menu was too confusing. Choose one or the other and stick to it and we will all be much clearer about what MVH is about.

Oxford Mail:
Star: Michael Von Hruschka

MVH Oxford 
4 North Parade, 
Oxford, OX2 6LX 
01865 604 041 mvhoxford.com

Opening times: Monday to Friday, 12-2.30pm and 6-10pm. Saturday and Sunday also serving brunch 10-2.30pm
Parking: You’ll be lucky
Key personnel: Michael Von Hrushcka and Jack Scoines, assistant chef and partner
Make sure you try the... value. With menus changing all the time, choose from the £23 for two courses or £29 for three, with coffee and petit fours.
In ten words: Needs some fine tuning but there is definite potential there.