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Time Out
3 days ago
- Time Out
Melbourne is the fifth best city in the world for green space and access to nature
Hot on the heels of news that the Royal Botanic Gardens Cranbourne has been named among the world's top ten gardens, comes the big reveal that Melbourne has been ranked the fifth greenest city in a global list compiled by Time Out. Excuse us while we adjust our (flower) crown. It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's had the pleasure of strolling through our city's many lush parks and gardens. From the grand beauty of the Royal Botanic Gardens to the peaceful tranquility of Fitzroy Gardens – and let's not forget the city's biggest bushland reserve, Yarra Bend Park – we Melburnians really are spoiled when it comes to easy access to nature. And have you even done Melbourne right if you haven't had a picnic and cheeky bev with mates in Eddy Gardens? That's right – so much of our socialising takes place in the city's green spaces. To determine the rankings, Time Out quizzed 18,500 locals across the planet about their green spaces and the access they have to nature. The 20 that made the list had the highest share of 'good' or 'amazing' ratings. Melbourne really did knock it out of the park, receiving an 86 per cent positive rating that saw it share fifth spot with Austin and Edinburgh. Dubbed the 'city of eternal spring', Medellín in Colombia ranks as the top city for green thumbs and nature lovers, where a whopping 92 per cent of locals positively rated its green spaces and access to nature. Boston claims second place with 88 per cent 'good' or 'amazing' ratings, while Sydney shares third place with London, both scoring 87 per cent. The only other Aussie city to (just) crack the top 20 was Brisbane, with 76 per cent of locals giving its nature spaces a big (green) thumbs-up. You can check out the full rankings below or study the results here. Here are the 20 greenest cities in the world according to locals: 1. Medellín, Colombia 2. Boston, US 3. Sydney, Australia = London, UK 5. Austin, US = Edinburgh, UK = Melbourne, Australia 8. Denver, US 9. Abu Dhabi, UAE = Cape Town, South Africa = Chicago, US 12. San Francisco, US = Stockholm, Sweden 14. Montreal, Canada = Munich, Germany 16. Mumbai, India 17. Beijing, China 18. Zurich, Switzerland = Ottawa, Canada 20. Brisbane, Australia Stay in the loop: sign up for our free Time Out Melbourne newsletter for the best of the city, straight to your inbox.
Time Out
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
And Then There Were None
Hold on to your alibis, dear readers. Hot on the heels of the recent national tour of The Mousetrap, another classic from Agatha Christie's playbook of murder mystery mayhem lands on the stage at Sydney's Theatre Royal. *** Time Out Melbourne reviewed And Then There Were None when it played at the Comedy Theatre in February. Read on for that three-star review: Somewhere off the coast of Devon is a dreary little island with high cliffs, higher tides and no way to escape. It's Soldier Island: a lovely place to put your feet up, take a dip, meet nine strangers and watch as you all get slowly picked off one-by-one. This is the wickedly thrilling premise of Agatha Christie's 1939 classic And Then There Were None. A favourite among Christie fans (and Christie herself), it arrives in a production that once again proves that the master of the whodunnit can still thrill us nearly 100 years on. Yet, this revival from director Robyn Nevin – her second of Christie's following 2023's The Mousetrap – rests on the laurels of its author too often, offering a passable but ultimately thin restaging that I think might signal the end of the recent resurgence of British classics in our theatres. It's 1939. Ten people have been invited to Soldier Island under suspicious pretences. They have little in common apart from the skeletons in their closets. For much of the show's bloated first act, we're watching this motley crew of potential victims introduce themselves to each other. Christie is famous for her ability to construct a complete impression of a person in one short phrase. But here, these characters have a tendency to over-explain themselves, and it can get a bit tedious. You can feel Nevin trying to amplify comedic beats or attempt more creative blocking to avoid this exposition-heavy first half from getting too stale. For this, she has an incredibly talented cast at her disposal. As the ex-soldier Philip Lombard, Tom Stokes keeps things moving with witty jabs and arrogant take downs that strike the perfect balance between Hugh Grant-style arrogance and charisma. His sparring matches with the entitled Cambridge student Anthony Marston (Jack Bannister) and condescending love for the dowdy cop William Blore (Peter O'Brien) inject a much-needed liveliness to these on-stage relationships. Eden Falk is perfect as the authoritative Dr. Armstrong; and Grant Piro is suitably frenetic as the panicked servant, Rogers. Meanwhile, Jennifer Flowers lends a much-needed gravitas to the crocheting traditionalist, Emily Brent. Watching her butt heads with the strong-willed Vera Claythorne (Mia Morrissey) over ideas of feminine modesty stands out as one of those breathtaking moments when you feel an audience suddenly in awe of Christie's enduring relevance. But while her humour comes easily to this cast, the deeper themes that elevate her novel are given short shrift. This is one of Christie's most psychological thrillers. We're watching people unravel at the hands of their guilt and fallibility, as much as the threat of their demise. Without Miss Marple or Detective Poirot, our investigation is weighted with a near-existential hopelessness. Nicholas Hammond doesn't quite land the tragedy of the absent-minded General Mackenzie, Anthony Phelan seems more comfortable performing Sir Lawrence Wargrave's stoicism than his anger, and Morrissey doesn't have enough of a handle on the complex twists and turns in Vera's mental state. Set and costume designer Dale Ferguson situates us in the play's interwar context beautifully by dressing the cast in a well-chosen mix of high-waisted pants, three-piece suits and silk blazers. Their navy blues, beiges and egg-shell whites are brought out by Trudy Dalgleish 's preference for bright white washes and sunny tones in her lighting design. But I wish more was done to amplify the horrors of the show's final act. Occasional glimpses of severe lighting, and ominous shadows are ultimately too tepid to contribute much to any overall atmosphere, leaving us with an emotional climax that feels frustratingly stale. Reviewing an Agatha Christie play can sometimes feel like you're critiquing a Christmas classic. This is hallowed ground, and familiar to many. Some might call it unfair to expect so much. It's a museum piece; a time capsule that should be evaluated as an intriguing glimpse into our past. In recent years, this idea has become the bankable logic that has driven many of the revivals seen in Melbourne's larger venues. Nevin's production of The Mousetrap is one example. But 2024 also saw revivals of A Woman in Black, Gaslight and the annual A Christmas Carol carve out a little West End corner in our nation's stages. Economically, this trend makes sense. These aren't spectacle-heavy productions that require big budgets, and they still have enough cultural clout to ensure good ticket sales. Producers of plays don't have a pool of jukebox musicals or film adaptations to choose from like their musical counterparts. If they want to bring a play to one of our larger venues, it seems they have two options: an Arthur Miller revival or a classic British thriller. With this production of And Then There Were None you can feel this trend nearing its end. It's not that we expect modern takes of these slices of theatrical history. But we can tell when fidelity is used as a crouch to avoid doing more with them. Reverence doesn't need to be an excuse for laziness. This is Christie's best novel, but for all its thrilling twists and still enlivening themes, you won't come out of this show thinking it's her best play. I came out of it feeling nothing but the sense that an opportunity to do something more with it had ultimately been wasted.
Time Out
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Cumulus Inc
Time Out Melbourne never writes starred reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills for reviews so that readers can trust our critique. If you were to plan the perfect Melbourne night out for a first-time visitor, what would you include in the itinerary? I love this question, since it's not only a great conversation starter, but there's also something inherently romantic in the exercise. Seeing a city's virtues through another's eyes tends to make you fall in love with it anew. My ideal night starts on the Paris End of Flinders Lane in the form of your classic 'dinner and a show'. After all, you can't go wrong with a meal at Cumulus Inc, the winner of our Legend Award in 2018 and the first hugely successful Melbourne bar and 'eating house' from legendary local chef Andrew McConnell (whose hospo empire today includes the likes of Supernormal, Cutler, Marion, Gimlet and Apollo Inn – all respective Melbourne icons in their own right). And after dessert, you needn't go far for entertainment. Simply descend into the basement of Fortyfivedownstairs, also housed in Collins Place, to feed your second stomach – your stomach for life, of course – with a program of independent art, theatre and music. This is exactly the evening I'd planned a few months ago to coincide with my tickets to a performance of Hamlet presented by the Melbourne Shakespeare Company. While the latter turned out to be extraordinary, a cocktail and snack (spring garlic and ricotta conchiglioni pasta stuffed with tomato and parmesan) at Cumulus Inc before the show were far more pleasurable than I'd anticipated. Like many resident Melbournians interested in eating out, I'd dined at Cumulus Inc before and I knew it was good, but I didn't remember it being this good. Something stirred me to rebook a table immediately for a larger meal. Frankly, not much has changed since Time Out last made an official visit. That dish of tuna tartare, goat's curd, green pea and mint so fresh it sings is still on the menu, as is the much celebrated 1.2-kilogram slow-roasted lamb shoulder with almond and red pepper – perfect for two to share on a date. While these are historically the highlights, there's seductive power in a trio of buttery Abrolhos Island scallops drenched in carrot curry and lime, or a plate of robust gildas ferrying pickled pepper, olive and Freo octopus into our liquor-slackened mouths. Nearly two decades on, McConnell's cracked wheat salad with labneh, preserved lemon and barberry is still one of the most wholesome (yet intriguing) restaurant salads money can buy, and that's not even the end of our praises. The superb staff still welcome you in as enthusiastically as they did back in 2009, their knowledge of the menu and drinks list far broader and more passionate in scope than most venues these days. And like mousse from the heavens, Valrhona soft chocolate is the idyllic crowd-pleaser dessert, served with an Earl Grey-infused cream, orange caramel and flecks of pistachio. My partner and I are smitten. Perhaps people don't talk a lot about Cumulus Inc anymore because there's not a lot that's new to say. There's a new wave of all-day diners following in its footsteps and you're far more likely to find news splashed about these all over the 'gram. But isn't it natural that evolution should stall when perfection has been reached? And if the recipe at this perpetually buzzing venue has been so passionately appreciated by all for so long, then why gussy it up to compete with trends of the '20s? It'd be like a longtime lover switching their cologne and then expecting you to feel the same good feelings when you sniff their sweater.
Time Out
02-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Ishizuka
May 2025 update: Could Ishizuka have created the most stunning Mother's Day gift box in Melbourne? We certainly think so. Check out their limited-edition floral-decorated package of castella cake and special gyokuro tea. Executive chef Katsuji Yoshino's beloved Japanese dessert is reminiscent of a honey sponge cake. Spoiler alert: we taste-tested it and it's insanely impressive – a not-too-sweet, cloud-like fluffy rectangle of pure technical mastery. The handcrafted box is topped with a vibrant floral arrangement, and also encloses two bottles of premium green tea from the heart of Kyoto, so you can enjoy the ritual with mum over a cuppa. Go here and scroll down to the Mother's Day gift box for more details. Read on for our original review of Ishizuka from December 2024. ***** Time Out Melbourne never writes starred restaurant and bar reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills, and anonymously reviews, so that readers can trust our critique. F Searching for Ishizuka feels a bit like geocaching. On a stroll up Bourke Street, you take a sharp right into a nondescript apartment building and then punch a code into a lift before being buzzed in. Down you plummet into a subterranean foyer and even then, the restaurant is still concealed behind an ethereal white dome that's like a giant Japanese lantern. It's otherworldly down here. But once your host checks your reservation and lets you in, you're met with a familiar sight: a long wooden counter behind which chefs busily prepare food and serve just 16 customers at a time. At each setting, I note beautiful bonsai structures releasing scented vapours. My senses are already being charmed, though nothing yet has met my lips. The restaurant's offering is a hyper-seasonal, degustation-style kaiseki menu. Sometimes referred to as 'Japanese haute cuisine', kaiseki is a centuries-old Japanese culinary art designed to celebrate the purity of fresh ingredients through a meticulously prepared sequence of dishes. Having trained at several of France's Michelin-starred restaurants, executive chef Katsuji Yoshino comes highly equipped with skills in both innovative European and time-honoured Japanese techniques. The journey begins with 'zensai', a flower-painted, multi-dish stack of delicate appetisers that are almost too pretty to eat. One carries a ball of ume-sesame temari sushi and a sweet oyster in aosa-dashi jelly ('aosa' is sea lettuce), its shell artfully sprayed with a splash of gold. Another contains a gold-rimmed glass of Tasmanian lobster with fresh uni; a pink scroll of rich duck with a dot of plum paste; and awa-fu (a springy millet snack) with watercress miso and a kinome leaf garnish. The third comprises morsels of Western Australia octopus and firefly squid with bottarga miso. Every bite is incredible, but the pacing is faster than I expected; I must keep up. A very elegantly dressed Japanese couple chuckles at my nervousness, and given how clumsy I am with a pair of chopsticks, I probably deserve it. A single ornate glass of alfonsino fish soup (the 'sakisui' course) is a comforting breather, its homey dashi fragrance the familiar thread that weaves all strata of Japanese diners together. The following courses comprise several delights delivered with technical precision: heavenly snapper, kingfish and paradise prawn otsukuri; Tasmanian tiger prawn and asparagus tempura flecked with verdant salt; and a wonderfully tender piece of chargrilled hapuka fish with sugarloaf cabbage and black pearls of caviar. The latter's emulsified coating incorporates hapuka broth and shiso vinegar, and it's like the best white sauce you've ever tasted on steroids. Woah. A highlight for me is yet another soup course, a dish Yoshino has revealed he was particularly excited to feature in the spring menu. Ishizuka's signature clear soup of crab dashi and kunzu powder features a snow crab parcel wrapped in a vivid rainbow spectrum of spring vegetables. I'm particularly taken with the junsai (pond vegetables) that lend gelatinous pops of texture to the dish. Every dish is expertly matched with alcoholic pairings that the sommelier talks through with me patiently. He doesn't miss a beat, answering all my questions with passion; every Japanese tea, sake and wine has a story and I'm eager to hear it. Shabu-shabu (Japanese hot pot) is a self-guided ritual; a bowl of seasoning liquid flecked with mitsuba sits atop a boiler and I'm instructed to cook strips of A5 Yamagata Wagyu to my desired level. It's dreamily luxurious, of course – even more saucily seductive with its sancho pepper and chervil accompaniments. 'Do you want to try some truffle rice?' a waitress asks me, her convivial manner a pleasant contrast to the serious formality behind the bar. It's the perfect way to soak up the remainder of the juices. The final savoury course is toro (fatty tuna) and anago (cooked saltwater eel) sushi, served alongside a knock-out lobster miso soup. I use the lone lobster limb as a straw to suck out the meat and soup together, and admittedly, sneak a peek at the couple to make sure this isn't in serious breach of etiquette. Yoshino's European influence comes through in floral moulds of mascarpone cheese that hold their shape atop a stunning peach granita, castella and berry dessert, yet its presentation is reminiscent of a Japanese cherry blossom tree in full bloom. I've always felt terribly impressed – even somewhat intimidated – by the fastidious attention to detail and quality associated with Japanese culture. It's not just present in the realm of food; it's in theatre, literature, music, even cleanliness (shout out to Marie Kondo). It can seem that there is no room for imperfection, that not yet knowing the exact shape of my 'ikigai' (life purpose) or how to fold my socks in an aesthetically pleasing way might be unforgivably egregious in the eyes of a stoic Kyoto-dwelling elder. And yet the Japanese are known to revere nature, that wild and un-curated cycle of life and death, and an eternal force of change that's unpredictable, and ultimately, undefeatable. There's also 'kintsugi', the traditional philosophy-based art of repairing broken objects with gold to highlight their wounded history rather than disguise it. This contradiction between surrender and control is not jarring at Ishizuka. Instead, it's a harmonious marriage. The fruits of nature are curated into a sequence driven by man's necessity to derive meaning and pleasure from them. Technique, the elements, rich symbolism and the desire to nourish swim together in synchronicity. Here, the result is as beautiful as poetry.
