Chich
Eastern European$
Once upon a time, there was the Court Wine Bar: a famous Beaufort Street clubhouse with a reputation for good drinking, trencherman European cooking and political skulduggery.
Opened in 1953 as a Macedonian café by Tominia and Nicola Andonovski, the Court gave Perth six action-packed decades before its street-level bar and cellar restaurant became The Dominion League and, later, Palace Arcade.
I bring up the Court because I see glimpses of it in Chich, a small bar in Osborne Park. I see it in Chich’s two-storey den of big booths, vintage print ads and custom furniture.
I see it in shelves saddled by rakija spirits and Macedonian wines made from vranec, temjanika and other indigenous grapes.
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But most of all, the insouciant spirit of the Court lives on via the energy and enthusiasm that Louis Mesev and sons Fil and Alek – Chich’s Macedonian owners – bring to the family business.
While the Mesevs have worked in many fields, feeding others is a recurring theme in their story. Before arriving in WA, Louis’ father owned a trafiki (roadside kiosk) in the Macedonian capital of Skopje.
The Mesevs’ previous businesses include cafés and North Perth’s popular Red Chilli Burger Bar. Staff go about their work with a vim that suggests they’re either family members or all-aboard with Chich’s easy-going brand of hospitality.
Despite the Mesevs’ strong ties to their homeland, Chich doesn’t cram Macedonia down anyone’s throats. (Except, perhaps, teaching guests that chich is Macedonian slang for “uncle” or an older male.)
The menu frames the cooking as “Balkan”: a broad catch-all that includes the cuisine’s Arabic, Levantine and European influences.
Yet at the same time, you could be oblivious to all this backstory and find yourself at Chich simply because its bold, Vegas-esque neon signage caught your eye.
You would also enjoy yourself just fine, even if you just wanted straight-up pub food. There are tacos. There are onion rings. There are saucy chicken wings. As per Aussie pub dining protocol, you order at the counter and staff run food to your table as it’s ready.
Then there’s the “traditional Balkan” part of the menu.
As someone that hasn’t seen the inside of a Balkan pub, I’m unqualified to comment on how true-to-type these dishes are. But for what it’s worth, things like sarma (rice-filled cabbage rolls) and mixed-meat casseroles chime with the region’s reputation for gutsy, agrarian cooking.
Grilled all-beef kebapi are the Mesevs’ contribution to caseless sausage diversity.
Compared to the crumblier, coarser cevapi usually seen around Perth, Chich’s specimens are springier and more emulsified in texture. They’re still plenty juicy and eat terrifically, especially when swiped through ajvar: the region’s vaunted red capsicum dip that deserves a place in your fridge door.
The menu’s best moments, though, are the mashups: dishes that channel both the Mesevs’ original and adopted homes to create new third culture dishes.
While Italian food and language purists may be triggered by “aranchini ala Balkan”, the rest of us can simply enjoy these fried cricket balls of first-use arborio rice – rather than repurposed leftover risotto – gussied up with feta and ajvar.
The kebapi’s fish ball-like bounce gets revisited in the burgers made with pljeskavica: dense, springy patties of beef that originated in Serbia before making their way across the region. The original Chich burger is a fine introduction to this Balkan favourite, ideally with the addition of the fermented, mayonnaise-like condiment kajmak.
Otherwise, the “Balkan beef parmi” offers another pathway to pljeskavica enlightenment. Here, the patty is stuffed kiev-style with cheese; crowned with rashers of bacon; and smothered in, you guessed it, ajvar. In theory, it sounds like too much. In practice, this alpha counter meal should be on more weekday line-ups.
Despite identifying as a small bar, Chich is more of a family-friendly Sizzler with A-1 drinks and less painfully hip cocktail den. Its well-oiled kitchen doesn’t just deal in big flavours. It serves these dishes at prices that are modest and in portions that are anything but. We weren’t alone in having to bring food home with us.
Sometimes our takeaway containers contained leftovers from dinner. Other times they concealed wedges of chunky walnut baklava: one of the house-made desserts introduced to Chich’s menu by Louis’ sister and former restaurateur Venera Trajcevski. If I understand Macedonian correctly, it would be incorrect to call her chich. But like the rest of her kin, she’s got a knack for brightening people’s lives.
The low-down
Atmosphere: a family-friendly neighbourhood bar that everyone can (and should) enjoy
Go-to dishes: Balkan beef parmi ($33), kebapi board ($30), “aranchini ala Balkan” ($15)
Drinks: a likeable one-two of contemporary pub favourites offered alongside Balkan beers, wines and cocktails
Cost: about $85 for two people, excluding drinks
Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.
Max Veenhuyzen is a journalist and photographer who has been writing about food, drink and travel for national and international publications for more than 20 years. He reviews restaurants for the Good Food Guide.
