DOWN SOUTH: Cullen Wines, Elliott's, and the bread I'm still thinking about

If you're going to celebrate an anniversary in Margaret River, you may as well do it properly. My partner booked us in for the Elliott's x Cullen Wines pop-up - what a good man.

We'd already been to Elliott's during a recent staycation and become slightly obsessed as we’re big steak eaters. Elliott trained in Michelin-starred restaurants in the UK - his whole philosophy is built around produce grown on site or sourced from nearby, seasonality, and letting the ingredients do the work. At Cullen Wines, with their biodynamic garden and over 50 years of genuinely caring about the land - it made complete sense.

Cullen itself is one of those places that earns the word institution. Founded in 1971, family owned and now into its third generation, it has real history without making you feel like you're being lectured about it. They were pairing wine with local food back in 1976, when Shel Cullen was putting out cheese platters and soups for guests. That kind of thing doesn't surprise you once you're there.

Before the meal we did a tasting to figure out what we wanted to drink with the food. In theory: a lovely idea. In practice: slightly overwhelming. Trying to match wines to a menu you haven't eaten yet, across a range that goes from very accessible to very special, is harder than it sounds. The staff were helpful but we still felt like we were mostly guessing. My recommendation: a pre-set pairing at two price points would make this so much easier. One for a nice lunch, one for a very nice lunch. Just tell me what to drink and I'll drink it.

We settled on the Elvie Clarke SBS to start - a Sauvignon Blanc Semillon named for Elvie Alice Clarke, a gifted pianist whose musical career was cut short by the first World War. Crisp, fresh, exactly right for sitting outside overlooking the vines while you wait for the bread.

And then the bread arrived.

I need to talk about the bread. The buckwheat brioche, warm, topped with chives and flaky salt, with a nettle and anchovy butter alongside that was this vivid, almost neon green colour. It sounds a bit witchy but it was brilliant. Other diners were savouring theirs thoughtfully. We inhaled ours and felt no remorse whatsoever.

Next up — Kojonup beef tartare, which is not usually my thing at all. I spent most of the time before it arrived quietly telling my partner he'd probably love it while planning to have one polite bite and leave the rest for him. However, my friend, I ate it all. The egg yolk was creamy, the beef was beautifully seasoned, and the hash brown had this satisfying crunch. It came out on a vintage rose-patterned plate (the kind your nan would have had), which I just loved and was very Instagrammable.

The coal roasted Shark Bay prawns were smoky and rich, sitting in a corn chowder that I would have happily had as its own course. Then the lightly cured Augusta amberjack, which came with cucamelon and if you haven't encountered cucamelon yet please go and find one immediately. Looks like a tiny watermelon, tastes like a cross between a tomato and a cucumber. I stared at mine for an unreasonable amount of time before eating it. Genuinely the cutest vegetable I have ever been served.

The duck was the main event and it delivered. Dry aged Wagin duck, biodynamic eggplant, Chardonnay block honey, and a duck leg pasty on the side - delicious, though slightly on the salty side for me personally. I still ate the whole thing so take that for what it's worth. There were also roast potatoes, which arrived in a little black bowl and were a genuinely welcome surprise - you don't exactly expect a proper carb moment on a tasting menu, but there they were and we were very glad about it.

By this point we'd moved onto red. I had the 2024 Red Moon — named for the total lunar eclipse that occurred just after harvest here in May 2022, when the Earth's atmosphere cast the moon in that deep red glow. My partner had the 2023 Ephraim, a Malbec and Petit Verdot blend named for Ephraim Mayo Clarke, Kevin Cullen's grandfather, who ran a winery in Bunbury in the late 1800s until it was inherited by his teetotalling son and promptly run into the ground. Clearly the winemaking gene skipped a generation and found its way to the right people eventually. Both wines were excellent.

Dessert was chocolate mousse with garden figs, spiced red wine ice cream, almond crumb (no nuts for the allergic one) and pumpkin seed praline — and we finished with a glass of the 2025 Late Harvest Chenin Blanc, picked at end of harvest on a specific day according to the biodynamic calendar. Fresh, naturally acidic, just sweet enough. The exact right way to end a meal.

The whole thing was $110pp + our glasses of wine. Worth every cent. The pop-up runs through to the end of May — book ahead, it was busy!

After lunch we headed to Vasse Felix - because of course we did. If Cullen is a Margaret River institution, Vasse Felix is the Margaret River institution. Established in 1967 by Dr Thomas Brendan Cullity, it's the region's founding wine estate - the place that essentially proved Margaret River could make serious wine in the first place. His first vintages came out in 1972, a Cabernet Sauvignon Malbec and a Riesling, and the rest is history. The Holmes à Court family have been at the helm since 1987 with a pretty clear brief: make Vasse Felix and Margaret River world-regarded for the next 100 years. Based on the afternoon we had, they're on track.

The tasting area itself is relaxed in the best way - you all stand around a big central bar, it doesn't feel stuffy or precious, and the woman who served us was an absolute gem. Chatty, knowledgeable, made the whole thing feel like catching up with someone who just happens to know a lot about wine. We were genuinely sad when her shift ended mid-tasting and someone else took over.

I always come here for the Idée Fixe Brut Rosé - it's my go-to celebration drink, has been for a while. Pale salmon, strawberry and cherry, that creamy finish. If you know, you know. Worth noting that Idée Fixe is Vasse Felix's sparkling range and from what I can gather they're in the process of launching it as its own dedicated Blanc de Blancs house — a whole separate thing with its own salon and cellar door experience. I don't fully understand it yet but I am extremely excited about it and will absolutely be reporting back.

Anyway. Something about that particular afternoon had me reaching for the Blanc de Blancs over my usual rosé, which surprised even me. Crisp, a bit celebratory in a different way, felt right. Into the bag it went.

My partner, who is a self-confessed Chardonnay convert (a recent discovery — turns out he loves oak and herbs — gross), went straight for the 2024 Chardonnay. Margaret River style, elegant, powerful, apparently full of wild complexity. He was very happy. I remain unconvinced by oaky Chardonnay but I'm glad he's found his thing.

My standout from the tasting was the 2023 Filius Cabernet Sauvignon — the Filius range is my favourite of theirs, Filius meaning 'son of', sitting below their older more serious wines but honestly punching well above its $30 price point. A Cab blended with Malbec, bright and fruit-forward with a savoury edge.

We did however leave with a Idée Fixe Premier Brut Blanc de Blancs and a 2024 Cane Cut Semillon, because apparently I have no self control after a six course lunch and a wine tasting.

We arrived home very content, very much looking forward to popping open the Brut and watching the footy. 🍾