What does a bowl of gnocchi in a fancy wine bar restaurant have in common with a girl resting her head on a pillow stuffed with buckwheat husks? Everything, really. If Helen Xu didn’t have such fond memories of her parents harvesting buckwheat in China’s Zhejiang province, she would never have thought to put buckwheat “gnocchi” on the menu at Re’em, her new restaurant in the Yarra Valley.

In a cold winter, in a house without heating, the Xu family gathered to form “mice” out of buckwheat flour and water, so-called for their resemblance to the tiny rodents. These dough balls were simple and ordinary, with the mild flavors that Zhejiang cuisine is famous for. Young Helen felt warm and cozy in them.

It took a combination of ambition, determination, dreams and nostalgia to bring this memory to my plate. Helen Xu grew up as a farmer but studied science and became a food chemist at Nestle. In 2009, she moved to Australia with her husband, Joey Zeng, and they bought an 80-acre property an hour or two outside Melbourne that is now Helen and Joey Estate. We should mention the textile dye export company that helped finance it.

Re’em is stunning, but there’s also something modest and ambitious about her.

Late last year, a new cellar door, a barrel room, a 16-room hotel and a 110-seat restaurant opened between a cow pasture and a vineyard. It’s a luxury development helped by a $3.5 million contribution from the Victorian government, which promised to boost employment and tourism. I don’t see why the investment shouldn’t be made.

Back to the “gnocchi.” The name should be changed, as it conjures up a light and ethereal expectation, while the actual stuff is chewy in a way that recalls Korean tteokbokki, a glutinous rice cake. It’s absolutely thrilling, tossed with a mushroom ragu and doubanjiang, a spicy, fermented bean paste that harks back to the heady flavors of Zeng’s Sichuan heritage.

I don’t think this dish should be called lao shu (Chinese for mouse), even though the pickled shimeji mushrooms with which it is garnished have long tails, but then again, “gnocchi” doesn’t quite do it justice.

The naming error is a sign of the forces at work in the kitchen. Xu is clear about her Chinese culinary focus, but her ideas are interpreted through consultation with chef Mark Ebbels (formerly of Fat Duck) and chef Abe Yang, whose Korean heritage also infuses.

The menu structure is European, with individually served (but shareable) portions, and knives and forks instead of chopsticks, but there are also Asian elements. I love that.

Most wine restaurants tend to lean towards traditional wine country cuisine, but there’s no reason they should be so entrenched. Alongside Re’em, shaking up convention are nearby Levantine Hill, which showcases its owners’ Lebanese heritage, and Doot Doot Doot on the Mornington Peninsula, which leans towards Chinese cuisine.

Instead of bread, you get mantou, a shiny, steamed bun that in Zhejiang is stuffed with pork belly and offered to ancestors. Here, it’s simple—and could use some spice—but it’s a spherical expression of intent.

Lamb skewers are glazed with cumin and grilled, crisping the fat on the surface and the meat underneath. Fried wontons are filled with tofu and bean sprouts, with a crunchy chili oil for dipping. Grilled octopus doubles the smokiness with grilled turnip and gochujang mayo.

The duck races between Bordeaux and old Beijing: it’s marinated in vinegar like Peking duck, and the leg is confit with a hint of hoisin sauce, then served French-style with wonton and sliced ​​cucumber. Helen Xu thinks of how her grandmother used to make her herd the family’s poultry back to their safe house every evening. The duck loves pinot noir, but the 2022 Re’em Cabernets are a perfect match, bright and deeply dry.

Desserts include a delicious, layered honey cake with added lees, a yeast by-product of wine production, topped with refreshing bamboo shoot ice cream.

Here the staff is experienced and eager to help, and can advise guests on the choice of dishes.

Re’em is delightful, but there’s also something modest and ambitious about it, and I think that can be traced to its founder’s upbringing. Sitting in a wainscoted booth, I see Helen Xu kneeling by an ornamental lake, grabbing scattered reeds, tidying up and contemplating, passing one of the unicorn sculptures that are the restaurant’s patrons and talismans.

“Re’em” is a biblical word often translated as unicorn, and for Xu it symbolizes the courage to come to terms with her own nature, perhaps by moving to another country, changing careers and building a dream vineyard.

This review was originally published in Have a nice weekend! warehouse