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The new restaurant at the Royal Hotel speaks many languages

There is little about Fleur, the new restaurant at the revamped Royal Hotel on Wellington Street in Perth, that is French – expect perhaps the excellent bread and butter that began the six-ish course chef's menu. Despite being named after the French word for 'flower', neither the décor nor the food is particularly française, which makes the restaurant's title seem like a strange choice. When it does make sense, perhaps, is when you draw the comparison between the understated elegance of the name, the food, and the interior design - and also the abundance of flowers physically in the space, and in the restaurant's artwork and branding.

The room gives off a distinct New York skyscraper lounge vibe – the first thing you'll notice is the lush carpeting and mixture of dark and chestnut timbers in the chairs and tables. Hanging paintings adorning the walls consist largely of depictions of mundanely-attired human torsos bursting with colourful flowers. It's a modern touch for a space that could otherwise be said to teeter on the edge of austere. Leafy indoor palms placed at intervals provide splashes of green, albeit muted by the dim lights. Facing into the dining room are the large doors of the elevator, the industrial nature of which you'd think would be jarring against the plushness of the rest of the space. Here, however, the elevator actually adds to the atmosphere; you half-expect at any moment to hear a muted ding and see the lift slide open to reveal a bellhop carrying a tray of Manhattans.

The food here is best described as technique-driven, focussed plates, featuring seafood and local ingredients with an obvious Japanese influence. For example, Mandurah blue swimmer crab is paired with a dashi custard; Abrolhos Island octopus is given the teriyaki treatment, accompanied by seaweed paste; and Donnybrook marron comes with kombu butter, yuzu noodle and tobiko, which is flying fish roe. We're a sucker for a chef's choice menu, however, and at fleur two experiences are offered at different price points - $89 or $110. We opted for the former, hopefully shorter, option; memories of struggling through wave after wave of food at other venues fresh in our heads.

A welcome drink, a zesty citrusy number served in a port sipper, topped with crushed ice and Peychaud's bitters, was a nice touch. Out came Miller & Baker ciabatta with miso butter – delicious. First cab off the rank was Shark Bay clam miso soup, served with a small bowl of pickled lemon balm ($9 a la carte). The soup was deeply flavourful – a far cry from the polystyrene cups of lukewarm broth that come out of an urn at your local teriyaki takeaway. And no soggy, rubbery tofu! The soup was crowded with tiny, sweet clams in the shell, strings of salty wakame, and delicate orange tobiko which burst in the mouth like popping candy.

Next, we received small bowls of chopped Abrolhos scallop sitting in a neon green oil of apple, wakame and virgin soy, the word "virgin" here being used as it is used to denote particular gradings of olive oil ($14 a la carte). Accompanying this was a dish of heirloom tomato, shiro oil, kombu and whipped soy ($16 a la carte). The scallops were simply outrageous - the flesh translucent and chewy – and the neon green oil was tart and sweet from the apple, with hints of savoury saltiness from the soy and seaweed. An extremely well balanced dish. The heirloom tomato salad was serviceable, if not banging with flavour. The nuttiness of the sesame shiro oil paired well with the fresh acidity of the tomatoes, but there was nothing to particularly lift the dish.

The same could not be said for Skull Island king prawns with shell tare, chili and brown rice vinegar ($21 a la carte); shell-less, butterflied out and cooked to juicy, oceanic perfection. The tare - a sauce made typically with soy, vinegar, ginger and sugar – incorporated the prawns' shells as flavouring in the same way a stock might incorporate bones – along with a good hit of brown rice vinegar and chili. The result is a rich, spicy, almost smoky sauce that kicks but doesn’t overpower the freshness of the prawns; another balanced plate that was as delicious as it looked.

Glacier 51 Toothfish is fished in the Australian Antarctic, and is a relatively rare find on restaurant menus. It presents a beautiful, white scalloped flesh and a chewy, toothsome texture. At fleur, the fish comes coated in a sweet, umami-filled miso glaze, and paired with tomato dashi and ribboned daikon ($37 a la carte). The result was an exciting plate of rich, savoury flavours and complementary textures – the translucent ribbons of daikon a particular highlight. The final full course that came out on the chef's menu for our visit was duck breast, served with ume, an Asian plum, two little spiced crumpets also topped with duck, and generous quenelles of fruity duck jam ($39 a la carte). We were simultaneously given a small bowl of crunchy, fresh garlic shoots topped with togarashi, to act as the "vegetable" component of this last course. The duck was plated as long, blush-pink fillets, bursting with flavour and juiciness. The accompanying jam was tart and paired well with the moreish meat. The crumpet was a fun touch; proof the kitchen has a less serious side. Another tasty, technique-driven plate.

The meal finished with a small, citrusy palate cleanser; it seems dessert is not included with the $89pp chef's menu option, but can be ordered separately from a short menu, which also lists a handful of clever Japanese-influenced digestifs. On account of our fullness, we decided against something sweet (especially as our palates had already been cleansed!). It strikes me that the chef's menu at fleur is less of a "feed me" affair than a quasi-tasting menu – it's a carefully considered vehicle to showcase the food, rather than a option to simplify feeding a group.

As I mentioned, fleur is an elegant restaurant. The space is comfortable, classy and a bit arty, without being stuffy. The food is refined; technically superb, inventive, replete with local ingredients and a Japanese focus, and plated beautifully. There's real thought going on in the kitchen here. I hope that as time passes, fleur stays true to the tenets set out in the previous sentence; if it does, it'll remain a unique, worthwhile offering.

* We visited Fleur just prior to the COVID-19 restrictions taking effect. We understand that as of 4 June 2020, Fleur will be reopening for limited bookings.