Flower Drum

It’s been 50 years since Flower Drum first opened its doors, and in that half-century, it has become something more than a restaurant—it’s a rite of passage. Melbourne’s moneyed and well-fed have long treated it as their club, their canteen, their constant. Come Lunar New Year, tables are booked years ahead. Race-day winners toast their luck beneath its glowing lanterns. Continuity is the point: many of the waiters have worked here for decades; chef Anthony Lui has been in the kitchen since the 70s; and his son, Jason Lui, now runs the floor with unflappable grace.

But longevity at Flower Drum isn’t the same as stasis. Beneath the gilt and nostalgia, this is a living, breathing restaurant, one that quietly evolves while staying true to its Cantonese heart. The menu may read like a greatest-hits list—rock lobster, roast duck, abalone—but the details shift with the seasons and the city. You might find Paspaley pearl meat tossed with garlic chives and asparagus, or a claypot of Bultarra saltbush lamb brisket, melting with red dates and ginger, proving that the classics can still surprise.

Yes, the décor is resolutely old-school, and yes, the service choreography could be studied in hospitality schools. But that’s exactly the point: Flower Drum’s mastery lies in its unwavering standards. It’s not chasing relevance; it simply is relevant by virtue of doing what it’s always done beautifully.

Tatler Tip

Can’t get a booking? Don’t panic. The bar takes walk-ins and offers choice bites from the kitchen, plus a cocktail list that’s far friskier than you’d expect from a half-century-old legend.