Yarraville-Footscray Bowling Club — Restaurant in Melbourne

Let me start by saying: I love this place. I really do. I’m a local, a regular, and a repeat offender when it comes to schnitzels and schooners. This is my pub. My bowls club. My home turf. And I’ve had more good nights here than I can count (and a few I can’t).

The front-of-house crew are consistently warm, welcoming, and downright lovely. They’re the reason I keep coming back. So please read this review not as a takedown, but as a gentle nudge from a mate who just wants to see things lift to the level they could be.

Now, to the less-than-tasty bit.

Let’s start at the front door. I know you were recently ramraided (bloody hell), and I completely understand the decision to funnel that insurance money into a much-needed reno. But the makeshift chipboard façade and the taped-on "We’re still open" sign? Not exactly the warm, inviting beacon for the crowds pouring in from the car park each weekend. To put it bluntly — it looks more crack den than community hub. A basic printed banner could go a long way, just sayin...

Then there’s the food. Over the past year or two I’ve probably had 25–30 meals here. Most were good, many were great. But lately... it’s been a bit like Russian roulette with the menu. The last three meals? Ranged from average to “was that reheated in a shoe?”

Tonight was the tipping point. I ordered a medium-rare steak. What arrived was a medium-well slab of sadness, cooked (I assume?) via time travel or the mysterious power of the microwave. It landed on my table in under 10 minutes, which is impressive — unless you're expecting it to be cooked from raw. The outside was grey. The inside? Also grey. Somewhere, a cow wept.

When I politely raised this, the poor waitress found herself stuck in the middle of a bizarre defense from the kitchen — first insisting it was medium-rare, then telling me the chef thought I didn’t understand what medium-rare meant. (For the record: I’m a qualified chef. I’ve cooked more steaks than the Wiggles have sung “Hot Potato.”)

Rather than argue, I asked for a burger instead. But alas, the second steak was already underway. Okay, no problem — I asked again for medium-rare. What arrived was... medium. Maybe. Still grey. Still sweaty. Still suspiciously fast.

Look — mistakes happen. But the whole thing could’ve been fixed with a simple “Sorry mate, let’s fix that for you.” Instead, it felt like the chef dug in deeper than the steak ever did on the grill.

So here it is: I’m not angry. I’m disappointed. (Okay maybe a little angry. But mostly disappointed.) I want this place to thrive. I want to keep bringing my mates and family here. But you’ve got to sort the kitchen out — or at least make sure the steaks aren’t cooked in a VCR.

I’m not after miracles — just a steak that’s met a grill and a chef that’s met a meat thermometer. The chef might hate me, but my heart’s in the right place — and unlike the steak, it’s medium-rare.

Still love you. Still coming back. But maybe I’ll stick to the parmi...

After several years of going here (and being a member), tonight will be our last. Went for an evening meal, which was a bad experience from start to finish. We queued up at the bar area, as there was someone being served in front of us. Patiently waiting to be served, someone casually jumps the queue and orders a drink (what we were trying to do). After they leave, I politely ask the lady behind the bar (Maree) why she served the person who jumped the queue first - she informed me that priority was given to the queue jumper as they were playing bowls! I explained that we were waiting to order a meal and queried why one member would have priority over another but we were given no apology at all, she simply justified the action of the other member without hesitation. Zero care given and very rude. After that interaction, we entered the dining area and went to order our meal. 10 minutes later, the food arrived, one meal correct and the other meal incorrect. The guy brought both meals to the table, and when he was informed that one meal was incorrect, he looked at us as if it was our fault. I asked him to take the food away and requested the food that we ordered. He left the table, rolled his eyes and went to speak to the person that had taken our order. After a brief exchange, they went to the kitchen. A further 10 minutes later, the second meal arrived, which was what we ordered. We ordered chicken schnitzel’s (Wednesday specials). I’m not sure what has changed over the last few months (chef?) but the food has gone down hill. It used to be much better. What should have been a nice night out was ruined by rude and seemingly inexperienced staff who frankly have next no customer service experience. Always love to support a local business but it will be our...

My partner & I both ordered dishes with chips. The young waitress came to ask my partner if he wanted ketchup. She completed ignored me like I didn't exist. My partner said "yes", and I thought she will bring ketchup for the table. She got the ketchup, and put it near the table's edge on my partner's side, for him exclusively.

I was surprised, and then I looked around the venue and realised that I was the odd man out. I was the only person who is not Anglo-looking. Everyone in the venue is white Anglo. It would be illegal for them to advertise the venue as "whites only"; so I guess by making me unwelcome, they are making a point?

I then requested for ketchup; and it took a very long time for it to come out. You would think that pouring ketchup shouldn't take more than a minute. It was at least 5 minutes. Goodness knows what they put in my ketchup. I didn't use it. They later brought out my dessert, and I left it on the table without touching it. I don't trust them. The young waitress could've spat on it for all I know.

I guess I should say sorry to disturbing the racial harmony of the venue. Great place if you want an exclusively White Anglo venue to go in the multicultural Inner West...