The opposite of wolfing down pizzas at Mr Wolf, St Kilda

Mr Wolf
15 Inkerman Street
St Kilda
web: http://www.mrwolf.com.au

Mr Wolf had been on my wishlist for ages – close to home, known for its pizza, someone at work went and liked it – so one special occasion (I do believe Mr B got a payrise) we decided to head over and check it out. The pizzas aren’t cheap (ranging around $20 to $25) so we expected a good experience. Read on to discover how things turned out…

Celebration cocktail – from memory, this had Pimms in it.

The evening began well – they remembered our booking, we ordered drinks and an entree to share. The eggplant fritters with cumin salt and lemon mayonnaise went down a treat, as did the Pimms based cocktail I ordered and Mr B’s beer. Then – we waited.

The high point of the night.

And we waited. And we waited, and we finished our drinks, and then we waited for someone to notice we had finished our drinks and maybe offer us the chance to get another drink. Other tables got their food, ate it and left. And we kept on waiting.

Somewhere along the line, someone stuffed up, and after 2 hours, we were offered our pizzas finally. Except – they weren’t ours. We hadn’t ordered what had arrived at our table, so back the waiter went to the kitchen. We waited another half an hour, contemplating walking out – I mean the eggplant chips were nice and all, but that was 2.5 hours ago and we were pretty hungry by this stage. We ordered second drinks (finally) and just as they arrived, so did our pizzas.

Some fairly innocuous looking pizza there, after all that.

I’d ordered the broccolini (broccolini, garlic, mozzarella, pancetta and gorgonzola) and Mr B the pancetta pizza (tomato, olives, pancetta, mozzarella and oregano). Now, you might think – we’d finally got our pizzas, the night was being redeemed – but no.

Inedible pizza.

I do not know what happened in the kitchen that night, but the pancetta that was on both of our pizzas was UNBEARABLY salty. It was so salty that Mr B couldn’t finish his pancetta pizza, an out of character act for a 6’4 lover of pizza – and I choked down mine out of hunger rather than enjoyment. I’m not an expert in preparing pancetta, but I don’t think anyone in the kitchen had tasted this batch.

Now we are no strangers to salt. I love salt. I eat the salt out of the bottom of the pretzel packet, you know the salt that has taken on a slight hint of pretzel flavour? This pizza was saltier than that!

I. Freaking. Love. Salt. But yet – this was inedible. We were really disappointed.

So to sum up: nice cocktail, yummy eggplant chips, inattentive staff, and we waited for 2.5 hours with nary a drink comped on our bill (might have been a nice gesture guys? You were totally aware you stuffed up) to receive, at the end of all that, inedible pizza. Mr Wolf has a big name because of Karen Martini, but this night and with this table – dropped the ball.

Mr Behemoth would like me to mention as part of this review, that he is usually indifferent to the venues we go to, but this time he will remember the name Mr Wolf. And if anyone mentions it in passing to him, he will fight them not to go back. And then there will be tears, salty tears, which will still be less salty than the pizza. Direct quote!

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