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Trevor Pepys reviews GT’s Bar and Restaurant
This was a spur of the moment thing. Having been sent out on a late afternoon supplies run, Trev was cycling along Gympie Terrace when he espied the unthinkable.
On the terrace at GT’s Bar and Restaurant some uncouth piece of riffraff was leaning on the Elvis statue, slopping beer onto his gold lame jacket while his girl took a photo of this heresy. You don’t lean on The King, and Trev quickly geared down, spun the e-bike around and climbed the stairs to tell him so, and came out with a dinner reservation for two in 30 minutes.
Look, Elvis and Trev were not particularly close, although I did advise him to wear bigger trunks during the Blue Hawaii phase, but he is the true father of white trash rock and roll, and although his kitsch memorial long predates the GT’s mob, and several times Elvis has indeed left the building, souvenired by tourists or stashed in a storage shed somewhere, only to mysteriously return to his riverside lookout, he deserves a bit of respect. And the GT’s founders seem to be providing that, so there’s a bonus point before we even start.
Trev seems to remember GT’s starting off a few years ago as more of a party house, the joint venture of a bunch of mates who enjoyed letting their hair down as the sun disappeared in a blaze of colour even more than their customers did. On several occasions when Trev wandered up the steps for sundowner or three he had the distinct impression he was gate-crashing a private party, but all of that has now been replaced by a friendly but highly professional approach from a trimmed-down management team.
Dismounting elegantly from her side-saddle position, the missus scampered up the steps and claimed a table while Trev locked the bike to a lamp post. By the time he joined her, she was already halfway through a bottle of Wildflower Pinot Grigio ($32), a good value gargle from Margaret River, so well done on the choice, but I had to dock her pocket money for starting without me.
Looking around the neighbouring tables, we noticed the starters were rather large, so we decided to focus on them, thereby enabling Trev to order another Wildflower. A platter of Bitterballen ($12) got us going, followed by the pork belly ($19) kingfish ceviche ($23) and a side of shoestring fries ($9). This might not sound like much for two grown people, but, as The King used to say as he downed another bowl of grits, oh boy.
For those of you who have never snacked on bar food in Amsterdam, bitterballen is a tasty crumbed and deep-fried ball of savoury ragout and mustard. Wicked but good. Could have done with a bit more zest, but there were plenty of them and they all disappeared. Likewise the ceviche was a giant stack of fish, bulked out by tomato, onion and avocado. Filling, but a little on the bland side, as ceviche should never be.
The star of the evening was the pork belly, slow roasted just so with a Hervey Bay scallop or two for a bonus, and rounded out with apple, coriander and jus. And the fries were a good accompaniment.
The verdict: Hard to beat for the sunset, but you could say that about a dozen places along Gympie Terrace. GT’s is fun, friendly and offers good value if you order wisely. The tucker didn’t send Trev into paroxysms of glee, but it was pretty good and certainly filled the hole. And it’s always good to pay homage to The King.
GT’s Bar and Restaurant, 287 Gympie Terrace, Noosaville. Phone 5449 8249.