Nina tapas bar, Rosina St, Adelaide | SA Weekend restaurant review

A new tapas bar has opened in a trendy, tucked-away enclave in the city, adding further weight to its claim as one of the CBD’s hottest little hideaways.

Nina tapas bar has opened on Rosina St in the CBD.

The classic Spanish patatas bravas is a messy jumble of crunchy fried spud pieces doused with a spicy tomato and paprika sauce – hence the name that means something like fierce or angry potatoes.

The version at new city tapas bar Nina is much better behaved.

At first glance, these patatas look like an eclair or some other type of patisserie.

Thin slices of potato are stacked and trimmed into a neat block before frying, in the style of the French pave.

A carefully applied layer of the spicy sauce goes on top, followed by precise stripes of green chilli mojo, black garlic and straight aioli.

The reaction to the patatas bravas at Nina tapas bar in the city could set the scene for diners, Simon Wilkinson says.

The bar area at Nina, which is in trendy Rosina St in the CBD, near Sunny’s Pizza and Cry Baby.

How you react to this up-market interpretation (horrified/intrigued/can’t wait to try it) should serve as a pretty good indicator of how you will feel about quite a bit of the restaurant’s cooking.

There will be fewer arguments, I think, about Nina’s warm and approachable vibe.

The three owners – Brazilian chef Leonardo Loureiro, service whiz Jessica Purcell and food blogger Brenda Loveday – have taken over a narrow space down the side of a tower block, home of the swanky Adelaide Sofitel, and just around the corner from the super-cool enclave that includes Sunny’s Pizza and Cry Baby bar.

Brussels sprouts and manchego.

Pan con tomate and jamon.

While the Sofitel is the landlord, this is a separate business and has none of the trappings (rehearsed lines, bad muzak) that can be associated with an international hotel.

Instead, there is plenty of lively chat and a bass-heavy playlist in a squeezy, softly lit room decked out in earthy tones of terracotta, bronze, dark timber and marble.

The initial greeting is charming and flows smoothly into taking a seat, choosing a drink, and receiving helpful prompts when trying to wrangle a food order.

At first glance, Loureiro’s menu looks like it sticks mostly to the trad tapas playbook, but surprise sightings of dashi, bonito et cetera show he isn’t averse to going rogue where he feels it can be beneficial.

Popular food blogger Brenda Loveday is one of the trio behind Nina tapas bar. Picture: Keryn Stevens

Aiming for maximum variety without overindulging, we skip the quartet of main-sized plates (half chicken with fermented chilli) and stick with a succession of snacks and smaller servings.

Pan con tomate, like the patatas, is a tapas staple, best made by squeezing all the juice and innards of a ripe tomato over a piece of grilled and garlic-rubbed bread.

Here it is more like a bruschetta and uses diced tomatoes that have been pumped up with red yuzu kosho and a hefty splash of rice vinegar.

Smaller toasts slathered with tarragon aioli are the foundation for poached mussels soaked in a mild, sweet/sour escabeche marinade.

The voluptuous shellfish, accompanying vegetables and balance of a dressing that is spiked with pickled chilli juice are all spot on.

Cured tuna, creme fraiche and citrus.

Crème catalana at Nina tapas bar.

Raw yellowfin tuna is briefly cured and then dressed in a concoction including kombu (seaweed) and yuzu juice, arranged as the bullseye in a ring of lemony crème fraiche surrounded by a moat of green onion oil.

A final sprinkle of espelette pepper with a smoky, sweet heat helps connect this, tenuously, with the Basque Country.

The flavour amp is jacked up to 11 for brussels sprouts, fried until the outer leaves are well and truly toasted, tossed with an unctuous tahini-based sauce and buried beneath an avalanche of grated manchego (cheese).

Like Guns N’ Roses, one or two hits are enough, so definitely a plate to share.

Octopus is given more traditional treatment with a classic romesco sauce and ribbons of pickled fennel.

The tentacle has been poached and then hit hard on the grill, so the meat inside remains sweet and succulent, while the suckers are heavily charred and the tips turning brittle.

Controlled burning is the secret to a basque cheesecake that is Loureiro’s specialty and, during Covid, became a successful side business.

He adds lemon and orange to the cream cheese mixture and bakes it in a hot oven to create a jet-black lid with macaron glossiness. That bitter edge makes this sing.

Nina radiates true tapas bar spirit but, for a stick-in-the-mud traditionalist like myself, some of its tweaks are open to question. Does this include the patatas bravas? It’s over to you.