House of Crabs

Believe it or not, House of Crabs is a step in a classier direction for the basement below Newmarket Hotel. This was once the notorious dive pub famed for its "Tits-n-Schnitz" nights. Even under the Melbourne Pub Group, who reinvented the Inkerman venue as a designer boozer slinging Paul Wilson's Cal-Mex, there was a questionable revival of the nudes'n'food concept here in the Cellar Bar.

Now that Dixon Hospitality is in charge (they who have recently bought up the Newmarket, Middle Park and Station Hotels and in Sydney, the original House-of-Crabs home, the Norfolk) it's a place to don gloves and smash into crustaceans.

The space is actually ideal. The original cabaret club decor of red velvet drapery, stained-glass lights and deep booths unites with a new layer of nautical gear (fishing nets, stripy beach umbrellas and some raw wood planks hammered over crimson pillars) to create a high-class-hillbilly vibe that channels New Orleans. Budweiser six packs act as cutlery holders stocked with crab tines and hot sauce. It's a party just waiting to happen.

If you were to look for its original inspiration you might land on Boiling Crab in Los Angeles – a cultural mash-up run by a Vietnamese-Texan family where you get your crustaceans searing hot, Asian-style, lemon peppered or done with the garlic butters and Old Bay spices more particular to the American South. It's all dumped from plastic bag straight to papered tabletop for fragrant finger-led dismemberment. So it is here.

Order Alaskan king or snow crab, local blue swimmers or prawns by the half kilo, with identical sauce options. Here, they've spread the risk with a grill section, ceviche, and punter-pleasing sides like lobster fries – a sort of shellfish poutine of chips and bacon napped in an OK lobster-fragrant gravy – and "Sizzler" cheese bread, which is a tasty, garlicky grilled cheese toastie, though nothing like the greasy wonder you remember from the long-lost chain.

Throw into that mix some icy Budweiser beers, a decent, (if slightly sweet) sazerac and some belting Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash, and how could you possibly go wrong?

We show up geared to party, but what should be a wild dining experience is lukewarm. Staff don't lack enthusiasm, but turning that into service proves a hurdle. We're the only people in the joint at 7pm and yet we watch five waiters talking drinks for 10 minutes before someone actually offers one. Later, beers we order fail to appear, and when we ask if the sweet, crumbling and deeply coloured doughnut holding a chilled dollop of slipper lobster and Kewpie mayo is overcooked (as well you might at $12 for two bites), the waiter pauses, shrugs and assures us it's meant to be this way.

And sure, does service matter when Fleetwood Mac is causing a room-wide nostalgia high and you've just been furnished with a bib? Arguably not.

But hey, team kitchen, why is the smashed corn – charred kernels capped with a Doritos crumb – lukewarm and uniformly soft? Ditto the limp minty slaw?

The St Louis pork rib, on the other hand, is sweet, smoky and falls off the bone in a way a lot of people will like.

To the main event. Alaskan king crab legs ($50 for 500 grams) give greater yield over the snow or blue swimmers, but the latter are our pick given our imported friends come into the country frozen and you might find the spiny legs a little soft.

Supposedly, there's Old Bay spice (America's seasoning mic drop of paprika, celery salt, and the rest of the spice rack) in the boil, but there's minimal flavour penetration in ours, and our meagre splash of a light-on Cajun gravy does little to boost the game. Next time we'd go garlic butter and amp with Louisiana hot sauce. 

The bar (if you actually sit at it) and the soundtrack are great, but for our money, it's worth the $4 and 30-minute tram ride to Miss Katie's for a shell-cracking high.

THE LOWDOWN
Pro tip How about a fishbowl cocktail?
Go-to dish Blue swimmer crab with garlic butter ($32/500g).
Like this? Try a low country boil with potatoes and corn at Miss Katie's Crab Shack, 202 Johnston Street, Fitzroy.