Fred's
There is something of the painterly about Fred's: a joint of meat swings over flames in an open hearth; a bowl of red and yellow capsicums sits on a bench; waiters in pale-blue shirts and cream waistcoats glide as through some Côte d'Azur dream sequence. The hues are ivory and bone and slate and chestnut. The textures are stone and wood, pewter and linen.
A clue lies in a pile of cookbooks under a kitchen bench: Chez Panisse Fruit and Chez Panisse Desserts. Written by California's famed Alice Waters, they are indications of both the pedigree and approach of Fred's chef, Danielle Alvarez.
Alvarez spent some years at the Berkeley icon, a restaurant with a reverence for ingredients – fruit and vegetables particularly – and for culinary minimalism.
Now, with the backing of Justin Hemmes's Merivale group, the Miami-raised Alvarez has brought that philosophy – and her own exceptional abilities – to Oxford Street.
Here, she invites you into her kitchen, where the movement between chef's bench and diner's table is seamless. To enhance this impression, at two of the substantial, marble-topped kitchen benches where her chefs work, there are places for patrons.
If you're at a table, Alvarez herself might be the one to put plates before you, perhaps a miraculous appetiser of "sandy sprats" – immeasurably superior to most whitebait and tumbled with lemon mayo and sparkling green peppers. Salad-style dishes taste like gardens: shaved zucchini gleaming with basil and cherry tomatoes, pine-nuts and burrata; or sashimi of bonito with pickled green tomato and the smokiest mashed eggplant.
Seafood here changes with the tides and is rarely anything but outstanding. Perhaps pippies and spaghetti will be served smeared with a radiantly green herb sauce and bottarga. Or sand whiting might be grilled and dressed with leeks and spring onions and a light, Japaneseinspired dressing.
If coral trout or crayfish are on the menu, you would be foolish to ignore them.
The provenance of the red meats on offer is considered – beef from Tasmania's Robbins Island or Moorlands biodynamic lamb, for example – but Alvarez's greatest knack is in giving her vegetable-driven dishes an irresistible appeal.
And at Fred's, Justin Hemmes' knack for creating restaurants of transporting presence is evident yet again. Here, only the smallest leap of imagination will have you in some far-flung rural idyll.
308 Oxford Street, Paddington; (02) 9240 3000; merivale.com.au/freds
Fancy Hank's/Good Heavens
Fancy Hank's was anything but fancy when it started out as a barbecue food truck in Carlton's Princes Park. Five years on, the evolution feels complete: its premises are now the first floor of a stately art deco building in the heart of the city (the truck still roams Melbourne on occasion) and there's a new rooftop bar called Good Heavens, offering spanking views of Bourke Street, a Palm Springs-inspired colour palette and a respite from Puffing Billie, the restaurant's 2½-tonne smoker downstairs. (If you're not feeling hungry when you arrive, you soon will be.)
Unlike at Hank's, drinks are the focus at Good Heavens – in more ways than one. The bar is tiered, revealing a covetable collection of liquors used to make cheeky, colourful cocktails.
Harvey Danger is a ramped-up Harvey Wallbanger made with "Melbourne moonshine"; Licor 43 freshly squeezed OJ with a head of house-smoked orange foam. The Poco Loco, meanwhile, brings the piña colada bang up to date with Havana Club rum that's been "washed" with coconut fat, pineapple juice, agave and a dash of Coco Lopez cream of coconut.
Just the sort of thing you feel like sipping on a rooftop accented with turquoise walls and chairs. The bar bites, however – which borrow from Hank's menu – feel better matched to beer than such summery libations: think deepfried cauliflower with ranch dressing and hot sauce, nachos with brisket mole and queso, and Hank's cheeseburger, oozing with its slice of melted, American-yellow cheddar.
Speaking of that brisket, if you do feel like something more substantial, pop downstairs where the vibe is more New Orleans than Coachella Valley (taxidermied boar heads, rusty saw belts and mahogany booths). Seasoned with a black pepper rub, it collapses on contact with a knife and tastes like the ultimate corned beef (albeit a pricey one).
Don't leave without trying the boudin, a supremely tasty sausage of pork liver, fat, onion, rice and myriad seasonings, served with a snappy mustard chutney (they call it chow chow).
With 12 craft beers on tap (and another 18 available upstairs), the combined Fancy Hank's/Good Heavens offering really has something to suit all comers.
79 Bourke Street, Melbourne; 1300 274 753; fancyhanks.com; goodheavens.com.au