It feels fresh and vibrant now. Conversely you can almost smell the old Becco. Walking in, Seinfeld enthusiasts would pleasantly recall Kramer talking about levels. The many levels of Côte Basque are again filled with happy diners, today during a roaring Sunday trade for Father’s Day.
The Trader House combination of Andrew McConnell and Jo McGann has the “Midas touch”. The sister restaurants are incredibly good, creating a portfolio that is the envy of all others hospitality groups around the country. Unlike King Midas’ touch though, the food not only is edible, but is absolutely delicious. For the tale goes that while being able to turn everything to gold, unfortunately the food touched by Midas was rather difficult to swallow. Gladly the ability of Trader House to run a successful restaurant has not become a cautionary tale.
To give you an indication of my inclination to investigate this new venture, the only booking we could secure was for 3.30pm. There is a certain dedication necessary to have several courses of food at the midpoint between lunch and dinner. Outside of Margaret River, my favourite country town is San Sebastián, and not far behind is its French Basque neighbour, Biarritz. The Basque coast fills me with delight, and upon hearing about the theme I was completely Jerry Maguired. They had me at “Basque”.
If you’ve seen a modern menu in Australia recently you’ll be aware that there is no longer a need to indicate snacks, entrees, mains and sides, because almost every menu is the same format. Here there is another side to the menu though, and this features the seafood and beef from the grill, with prices making it clear what is what. The selections are generally enticing, and there’s a few questions to ask (or words to look up), but it is relatively straightforward.
Currently my addiction to martinis led to a house martini order, while the “bringing back cosmos” theme led Catherine in another direction. The sweet accent on the martini made it dangerously drinkable, and the cosmo was ridiculously good. Queue the arrival of “anchovy matrimony” which takes me back to being newlyweds at the Hotel de Londres in San Sebastián. The idea is two anchovies that strike a balance between oil and acid, salty indulgence and brightness. We had this along with the crab tart. The first thought I had was comparatively excellent snack sizes, and the second was how insanely delicious both (especially the tart) are.
Next we’ve chosen to go straight to mains, and we have a keen agenda to have more than one dessert later. The Rohne pasture-fed tenderloin steak from the grill side of the menu comes out looking radiant. It is about as close to bright red as I’ve ever seen a steak, and the red roasted capsicum on top brings out even more redness. Catherine is somewhat taken aback. As sides we have some chips (sensational, and Syd has already had a bowl), and the leafy salad, that is properly and beautifully dressed. I love the tenderloin, though it is expensive for the serving. Catherine is still getting over the colour.
As we’ve been enjoying these dishes, we also have been smashing the ridiculously good bread. Having ordered a serve for Syd, they accidentally brought an extra to our table, and this was my invitation towards excess. It didn’t matter though, we still ordered two desserts to share and this is where things got even more exciting.
The Gateaux Basque is a dreamy tart with cherry and vanilla custard. The chocolate soufflé with vanilla gelato is a decadent ode to rich desserts. Between them we are enthralled. As if trying to get from one side of an Olympic swimming pool to another, we are out of breath trying to down the sweet offerings, and checking the calendar for dates to get back here for some more.
Along the way we spoke to one of the managers who we recognised from both Gimlet, and Napier Quarter – two of our favourites. As you’d expect with that kind of resume, service had been excellent. The wine list has high quality selections at a range of price points, many around the $20 mark. I started with an Albarino by Weathercraft in Beechworth, which was a great expression of this versatile grape. Catherine’s Julien Brocard Chablis won the day, but at its price you’d expect that. Keeping it reasonable, I went to a Chianti Sangiovese by Le Corti, which went nicely with the beef.
Becco was such an interesting restaurant to me. I found myself there regularly, often at the invitation of others, and often with tourists looking for something iconic in Melbourne. There are not many restaurants that are so instantly recognisable. Côte Basque has maintained much of the old feel, but with food that is entirely different. I’m picturing a future with a few wines on the terrace outside, washing down some of these delightful snacks, or a light entree. Though I’d be quite pleased to replicate this family meal on Father’s Day many times over too.
A couple of months ago I wrote about my favourite restaurants in the Melbourne CBD, and I’ve expanded that list to include my favourites outside of the CBD too. This is my list of the Best Restaurants in Melbourne.
Taking a very keen interest in the best of fine dining makes me a willing target for the question “what’s the best restaurant in Melbourne?” “Where do we need to go on our next trip to Melbourne” is the other open ended question for which there is no succinct answer. My usual response is to ask a series of questions to better understand the preferences of the particular contact, as usually my friend is asking for a friend.
I love these questions. I put down whatever I’m doing and I busily begin daydreaming of recent and memorable restaurant visits, where I love to go back to, and where I’ve been with Catherine or in groups, that I’ve really enjoyed. Lists are fun. Lists are never right; never wrong. In an effort to take a view I’m going to give you sixteen restaurants where over a period of time of your choosing I suggest you go to in Melbourne.
There’s no actual order below but I’ve added those outside of the CBD first, and written about the places that I love as I’ve thought of them.
There are many things I love about O.MY. The service staff led by Chayse Bertoncello, and the kitchen led by his brother Blayne are the two main ones though.
O.MY has evolved. From the beginning the script was written. The vision was pursued vigorously, and even a heartbreaking fire couldn’t stop the Bertoncello tornado from making waves.
We’ve been back recently with friends. There are dishes and wine choices that make you grin the broadest grin. It’s a special place.
How can a neighbourhood wine bar get under my skin like Napier Quarter? This place just doesn’t miss. These days I take some expectations, but part of the charm is the quaintness, as if it has been mastered.
The wines are superbly chosen and reasonably priced. The food always screams freshness and vibrancy. The service is as polished as a wine bar in Fitzroy gets.
Big time. It doesn’t get more big time than Stokehouse. This St Kilda icon has also survived fire, and has risen from the ashes with even more strength and meaning. Catherine and I utterly love our time here.
It’s expensive but it is always worth it. I find it to be the most delightful place to dine at with a view in Melbourne. Unlike other tourist spots, it backs it up with immaculate food and wine.
Yes it has gotten to the height of exclusiveness with the cost of the tasting menu, but it is still cheaper than three Michelin Stars in Paris or New York.
From incredible and modern; to native and experimental; to iconic and assured; Attica has had a journey for the ages. I wasn’t around to say I was dining there at the start, but I’ve seen every act since, and they are all show stoppers.
If you want a caring big night out experience, Cutler & Co. will deliver on every front. I’ve accumulated many meals here over the years and the fabric that binds is the collective experience.
It’s a place I haven’t yet dined alone, but besides that I’ve been with Catherine, in small groups, and large groups. At one time even the now Marion was part of Cutler as a function space.
This is the place that gave Gimlet its rocket launcher, and perhaps would be even more popular if Gimlet was never born.
The essence of extraordinary Japanese food comes down to preciseness, quality, and mastery. In a backstreet of Richmond, this is all on show. The treatment of nigiri sushi course after course is stunning.
Putting aside the expense, being at Minamishima is as close to a sushi joint on the border of the Tokyo Fish Market that you can have. Now it has over ten years on the board and nothing needs to change.
Our experience at Yiaga was magnificent. Hugh Allen’s purposeful, architecturally pleasing restaurant showed the incredible learnings he has had over years at Vue Du Monde and Noma.
The degustation only menu is expensive, but wonderful. Service is sharp, showing a very high quality of training, and professional ease. One of the hardest and hottest tables to book since it opened in October 2025, its a matter of forward planning or luck that will get you in.
From the time Catherine and I dined on the bar, watching the fire torched proteins making their way to our space on the bench, Matilda has been an indulgence.
Finishing with a tarte tatin is fitting. Eating everything on the menu is appropriate. Not appropriate is my mate ordering negronis to chase our beers and wines!
The place I keep going back to. A restaurant that I would return to for dinner, or for lunch again the next day. I go at 11.30am for espresso, pasta, and a glass of wine or a negroni. I go at 10pm for a mushroom and truffle risotto with a night cap glass of Italian red. I try to book and always struggle, vowing to remember for next time, but ultimately waiting at 11.30am for a seat at the bar again.
Italian food is clearly my favourite cuisine. Italy is one of my favourite countries, and Rome is one of my favourite cities. Catherine is half Italian. In a tiny Little Bourke Street restaurant, some of the finest Italian food in the world is served. There’s no pomp or finery, but this is fine dining without any doubt. The longer meals call for Tipomisu. The shorter meals can be less than 45 minutes. All are special.
Oh Bar Lourinha. From the first time “the boys” entered while on holiday after the races, to the times since, and several solo dining experiences, this has been awe inspiring. Bar Lourinha can pack substantial swathes of flavour into the tiniest of snacks, and the larger style plates, generally allowing a few delectable tastes that are shared by intimate groups that seem to grow in volume through the evening.
The beauty of this institution is the ease at which you can find a brilliant meal at the odd times. You can go early and graze with a drink before a show; you can go after a show for a few drinks too; you can have a full meal or just a snack. As good as the wine selection is, it is non-negotiable to have some food, even if just a few snacks. The last time I was here the tuna crisp was so good I reordered another before the kitchen ultimately closed. There is something about Lourinha.
From the first time we dined on the bar, to the most recent experience, Supernormal has been an oasis of comfort. You can rock up for a few snacks and turn a normal night into an extraordinary one. You can dine with friends in a group and do the whole menu. The consistency speaks volumes.
This was the first restaurant we took Sydney to after the pandemic had begun, when we got a rare reprieve. We’d supported with pick ups through Providore and it just made sense. I’ve tried most of the menu and I have so many favourite dishes that it is impossible to have them all in any one sitting. Throw in a clever drinks list, and a place good service staff seem to gravitate towards, and you have the perfect versatile venue, where no experience is entirely the same.
The epitome of a big lunch or dinner. Gimlet put a stamp on the Melbourne dining scene the minute it opened. The next minute there were more lockdowns. Holding back here is the only indulgence that is off-limits. Gimlet is a venue that feels fancy having a quick cocktail on the bar, through to a serve of lobster and Premier Cru Chablis.
While the building that houses Gimlet is historic, it was never a temple to gastronomy like it is now. Outside is not the prettiest intersection in Melbourne, but everything inside has its place. This is the Andrew McConnell restaurant where it all comes together seamlessly, and the expense is worth it.
When you walk into Reine & La Rue for the first time you miss a breath. It is impossibly beautiful, especially when full of happy diners. It needs to be busy because the brief is a lot of expensive produce, and a lot of people required to enjoy it night after night.
Intricate snacks, richly flavoured mains, expertly assembled drinks, and an occasional look around at the architecture. You can’t be sure you’re in Melbourne, but you know this city has made it when restaurants of this ilk have landed on the scene.
Having been a long time fan of the sister restaurants on the Peninsula, Patsy’s is one out of the box. The courage to present a purely vegetarian menu is matched by the location near the Queen Victoria Markets. In great dining cities like Melbourne, providing a first class experience night after night, and doubling as a wine bar, is a recipe for continued success.
There’s not a dish we’ve chosen at Patsy’s that has been ordinary. The intellect shown in the combinations and level of flavour is utterly impressive. When there are offerings this good, the vegetarian restriction melts away. The final ingredient is how cute and homely the courtyard, downstairs, and upstairs areas are.
I’m lucky Embla is not too close to home, because I would be there too often. It’s too easy to find an excuse to pop by the bar, take a pew on the kitchen bench, or organise a lengthy lunch or dinner. Going there unannounced and hungry means a very exciting hour or two are upon you.
Solo dining, date night, an intimate group, or a party of ten, are all sound options. On busy evenings it feels like they’ve packed a few extra in, but the elbow to elbow nature makes the experience all the more enticing. A glass of wine and a pasta turn into a mini celebration when I’m feeling spontaneous, but a long planned meal is even better.
Once this room housed Ezard. Much has changed, except for the level of cooking coming out of the kitchen. Nomad pushes the flavour profile up to top-notch, and offers some exquisite beverages to wash it down.
The sharing nature of the menu invites unbridled enthusiasm, and repeat visitors are the norm that keeps Nomad’s vibe up to the standard of the kitchen. The script is part of the dining landscape. Nomad just does it better than most, but you do pay for the privilege.
