Close-up of Peking duck plated with hoisin sauce, cucumber batons and steamed pancakes on a ceramic bowl
Food Drink

Mott 32 picks Crown Melbourne. I keep thinking about Lee Ho Fook.

Hong Kong-founded Mott 32, with its 42-day applewood duck and Michelin recognition, opens at Crown Melbourne in March 2027 as part of a $200m Riverwalk redevelopment. It will be magnificent, and I am still working out what it is for.

By Henry Macarthur9 min read
Henry Macarthur
Henry Macarthur
9 min read

Lee Ho Fook on a Thursday night. Helen had ordered the slow-cooked Berkshire pork, I had the soy-and-vinegar wagyu, and we were halfway down a bottle of bone-dry Yarra rosé when her phone went off. The news was Mott 32, the Hong Kong franchise that runs eight outposts from Vancouver to Cebu, will open its first Australian room at Crown Melbourne in March 2027. Helen grew up around the corner from the original Mott 32 on Hollywood Road. She put her chopsticks down and said one word I cannot print.

I have eaten at Mott 32 twice. Once in Vancouver, once in Singapore. The 42-day applewood Peking duck is the real thing. The dim sum is precise. Joyce Wang’s interiors are theatrical without tipping into kitsch. None of this is a problem. Mott 32 is a competent restaurant.

The problem is not the restaurant. The problem is the question of what a 200-seat luxury Cantonese room inside Crown is supposed to do for Melbourne in 2026. Two hundred seats of glossy Cantonese. A tableside duck programme. A wagyu and lobster section calibrated for international tourists, a wine list that climbs to four figures. Crown gets its marquee operator. Mott 32 gets the missing Australasian pin on its map. Both parties win.

What gets lost, if anything does, is the more useful question. Mott 32 is selling Melbourne the idea that Chinese food can sit at the top tier of global luxury hospitality. Melbourne, for the past decade, has been making the case in the opposite direction. That Chinese-Australian food does its best work in small rooms, run by people who know their suppliers by first name.

Three blocks from the casino

Walk three blocks from the Crown forecourt and you can eat extraordinary Chinese food. Flower Drum has been at it since 1975, and although it has lost some of the room-temperature drama it had under Gilbert Lau, the kitchen on Market Lane is still doing pipi xo sauce and san choi bao that Sydney people fly down for. Lau’s Family Kitchen, which Gilbert opened with his son Anthony around the corner, is more relaxed but no less serious, and the cellar is the kind that ruins you for chardonnay anywhere else for a week. Lee Ho Fook, where Helen and I were sitting, has been Melbourne’s case for what a Chinese-Australian kitchen could be since 2014, a producer-direct project that braises David Blackmore wagyu in soy and grandmother’s vinegar and gets away with it. Then there is Sunda for when the table wants to argue, Supernormal for the noise, and the Lui Bar for whatever is finishing the night.

None of these places are exactly Hong Kong Cantonese, and that is the point. They are the answer Melbourne worked out for the last decade about what dim sum gets to be in 2026. Serious. Regional. Sometimes weird. Almost always producer-led. Mott 32’s pitch, as founder Malcolm Wood put it when the announcement landed, is the opposite. “We’ve always positioned Mott 32 to show that Chinese cuisine belongs on the same stage as any cuisine in the world,” he said, “in the top tiers of the most discerning global cities.”

That sentence is doing a lot. It is selling Mott 32 to Melbourne as a kind of inevitability, the global tier finally noticing us. The unspoken half is that Mott 32 has been arriving in cities at this same tier for ten years, and the brand has built a recognisable house style somewhere between Hong Kong colonial nostalgia and Vegas-pit luxury. It works in the lobby of a five-star hotel. Whether it works in a city that has spent twenty years building Lee Ho Fook is the question Wood’s quote leaves on the table.

The Crown problem

The wider context is the $200 million Crown is pouring into a Southbank redevelopment that will deliver more than fifteen new restaurants and bars to the Riverwalk. Mott 32 is the centrepiece. Coming with it: a Victor Churchill grill, a Modern Mexican called Amaya, a gastropub called Bellevue Bar and Terrace opening this November. Then a barbershop-cum-cocktail bar in early 2028. Read as a single document, the precinct looks less like a Melbourne dining strip and more like an airport business lounge that grew up.

Crown has cause to spend this kind of money. After the 2021 royal commission found the Melbourne licensee unfit to hold its casino licence, the property spent years on probation, fronting up to monitors and rebuilding its compliance department. The hospitality program was always going to be part of the rehabilitation, because hospitality is the bit a city can love independent of the gambling floor. Restaurants are how casinos rejoin polite company.

In that frame, Mott 32 makes complete sense. It is a brand built to glide into prestige locations and bring a curated version of luxury with it. If the brief is to make Crown the kind of place a Melbourne couple celebrating an anniversary will book without flinching, Mott 32 is roughly the most efficient single move the property could make. The applewood duck does most of the talking before the wine list even opens.

What I keep getting hung up on is what the city loses if that becomes the new shape of Melbourne fine dining. We have been here before. Twenty years ago every Melbourne hotel had a destination Chinese. Most of them were polite, expensive, and forgettable, and the dim sum scene was carried by family rooms in Box Hill and Glen Waverley while the CBD rooms collected gift-voucher diners. The current scene, the one Time Out’s panel celebrated in this year’s awards, reversed that. The interesting Chinese-Australian kitchens were the small, opinionated, producer-led ones. The boardroom restaurants closed without much noise or got reimagined as steakhouses.

Why this is not 2005

There are two things that make me hesitate to write the Mott 32 announcement off as a return of the boardroom era.

The first is that Mott 32 is not, by global Chinese-restaurant standards, a stale brand. It came up through the Maximal Concepts group, opened in 2014, and has stayed sharp enough to keep its Asia’s 50 Best ranking and Michelin recognition through a decade. The Vancouver outpost in particular has stayed credible inside a city with the world’s most adventurous Cantonese scene outside of Hong Kong itself. Wood and his partners Xuan Mu and Matt Reid have run the brand with discipline. They source locally where they can, and the Melbourne kitchen is committed to Australian Wagyu and South Australian lobster. The menu has not been allowed to calcify around the duck.

The second thing is that there are notes in Wood’s interview that suggest the Melbourne project is being thought about with at least some awareness of where it is landing. “You’d never go to a restaurant that’s really good and busy that does all of the classic signatures,” he told Broadsheet, on why Mott 32 does not try to be a wholesale tour of Cantonese, Sichuanese, Shanghainese and Beijing cuisine all at once. That is the right instinct in a town where Sunda and Embla and Reine and La Rue all built their identities by refusing to be everything.

So Mott 32 is not arriving stupid. It is arriving big.

The Quay shadow

The harder backdrop for any new fine-dining project in Australia right now is the closure of Quay in Sydney, which I wrote about a few days ago. When Quay shuts after twenty-eight years, it tells you something about the economics of a 200-seat hatted Sydney dining room in 2026. The Mott 32 model is different in important ways. It is a global brand with shared overhead. It sits slightly lower on the tasting-menu spectrum and slightly higher on the volume one. Its margins lean on duck and dim sum, not on degustation. None of that is a guarantee, but it does suggest Mott 32 is reading the market correctly. Melbourne diners are not asking for more eleven-course menus. They are asking for places that can do a long lunch.

The thing Quay had, and Mott 32 will not have, is a sense of place. Quay was Sydney Harbour. It belonged there. Mott 32 will be inside Crown, which is to say it will belong nowhere in particular, the way airline first-class lounges belong nowhere. The interior, however lovely Joyce Wang makes it, is going to feel approximately the same as the Mott 32 in Singapore Marina Bay Sands or the Mott 32 in Vegas. That is the price of the franchise model. The trade is that the food gets to be very good.

What I’ll do anyway

I will book it. I am a restaurant critic in this country and Mott 32 is opening a 200-seat room within walking distance of my office, of course I will book it. The siu mai will be very good. The duck will be excellent. The lobster mapo tofu, which trades pork mince for South Australian lobster, is going to do absurd business on Instagram.

What I will keep doing on a Tuesday night, though, is the same thing I have been doing on Tuesday nights for a decade. Lee Ho Fook for the wagyu and ginger. Lau’s for the cellar. Flower Drum if the room matters more than the menu that night. Mott 32 will join Melbourne’s dining infrastructure without quite joining its identity.

The question that interests me about Melbourne is not whether Mott 32 succeeds. It will. Of the fifteen-odd venues opening on Crown’s Riverwalk in the next three years, Mott 32 will be the busiest, and probably the best-reviewed. The question is what happens to rents on Smith Street and Gertrude Street, and on Lygon and on Spring Street near Flower Drum, when international visitors learn they can do their Chinese-dinner ticking inside Crown and never leave the casino floor.

Helen finished her glass of Yarra chardonnay before she answered. “The duck will be good,” she said. “I just keep eating here.” She tilted her chin at the room. The duck on her plate was a Lee Ho Fook duck, slow-cooked Berkshire pork in soy and rice vinegar, the kind of thing where you stop talking for a minute and just eat.

Whether Melbourne can keep doing that, in the rooms where it has been doing it, when Crown’s $200 million pulls fifteen new operators into a single precinct, is the actual question. The casino floor is a strong gravity well. Even when the restaurants on top of it are good.

Mott 32 opens in March 2027. Book it. Eat the duck. Then walk three blocks back into Chinatown and eat there too.

chinese restaurantcrown melbournefine diningmelbourne diningmott 32
Henry Macarthur

Henry Macarthur

Melbourne restaurant critic and drinks writer. Files from kitchens, bars and the long lunches in between.