Fresh from a bracing plunge in a Scandinavian-style pool, I walked into The Peacock Room at The Oriana Retro Hotel with the kind of optimism that usually precedes disappointment. In Orange, however, a regional city increasingly confident in its own charms, that optimism is often rewarded.
Orange has long been known for its cool-climate wines and rolling pastures, but in recent years it has quietly evolved into one of New South Wales’ most compelling weekend getaways. The region’s restaurants, many tucked inside renovated homesteads or retro hotels, now draw visitors as reliably as the cellar doors. Among them, The Peacock Room has emerged as a standout.
The restaurant’s reputation in town is well established; its top ranking on TripAdvisor is merely the digital echo of what locals already know. Led by hotelier Espen Harbitz and restaurant manager Brigita Navickaite, the team operates with an unfussy precision—warm in greeting, exacting in service.
Housed within the stylishly nostalgic Oriana Retro Hotel and just steps from the jewel-toned Bela Vista Bar, The Peacock Room embodies a sort of mid-century glamour. Velvet lounges, vintage chandeliers and jewel-coloured glassware glow against the soft shimmer of hundreds of fairy lights strung across the gardens outside. It feels like dining in a bygone era, but with a distinctly modern assurance.
The menu leans Nordic, though not strictly so. Ambitious offerings — Oxtail Risotto, Roasted Duck — sit comfortably alongside classics such as Coq au Vin and a notably well-executed Sir Thomas Angus MS3 Fillet Mignon. There is even a dedicated cheese menu, a flourish that seems entirely appropriate in a region so proud of its produce.
For my birthday dinner, a meal I wanted to feel both celebratory and slightly cinematic, I arrived dressed for the occasion, though one could just as easily slip in wearing jeans and a sweater. The room accommodates both moods.
We began with a Seafood Vol-au-Vent, a dish so seldom seen on contemporary menus that its appearance felt almost nostalgic. This version, topped with salmon roe and chervil, was anything but dated: the pastry precisely flaky, the velouté exquisite, the seafood delicate and expertly cooked. The Nordic Cured Venison followed, a compelling interplay of sweet and savoury that landed with surprising finesse.
Mains were equally assured. The Roasted Duck was rich yet restrained, the Fisherman’s Catch bright and impeccably fresh. But it was dessert that redefined the evening.
I’ve eaten more crème brûlées than I’d care to quantify, but this one stood apart. Its surface broke with a decisive crack, giving way to a custard that was impossibly smooth, scented with real vanilla. Candied orange peel and fresh biscotti added a note of playfulness. A twice-baked lemon soufflé offered competition, but the brûlée prevailed.
If you go—and you should—arrive an hour early for a lychee martini at the Bela Vista Bar. Its moody, jewel-box atmosphere sets the stage perfectly.
For me, The Peacock Room was the finest meal of the weekend, a reminder that Orange is no longer simply a food-and-wine stopover but a destination with its own culinary point of view. In a region defined by its quiet confidence, this restaurant feels perfectly at home.