I don't think I've ever been so excited to stand in front of a fridge. However, here I am, bright-eyed with delight, peering through tall glass doors into shelf after shelf of handmade cheese in a small, friendly Brunswick East wine bar. The handsome rounds of tomme-style cheese are made by pastry chef and curd nerd Lucy Whitlow under her Whitlow's Wheels label and she crafts them right here, in a cupboard-sized cheesery. 

As if it wasn't exciting enough to gaze into the fridge, there's also a window into the bijou cheese factory where baskets are stacked up in readiness and half-made cheese is tucked under tea towels, quivering its way through milky dreams.

Grana adjoins pizza restaurant Figlia, which opened last August as part of the lovely little restaurant group that also includes Tipo 00 and Osteria Ilaria in the city.

The bar operates as a holding pen for those waiting for a Figlia table, and perhaps also as a "Would you like to finish your wine next door?" gentle moving on when a table is required for the next booking.

Manager Ted James runs a cheery shop where you can prop at one long table for a glass of wine, a few oysters, artisan cheese and charcuterie, or fancy tinned seafood served with sourdough bread.

The wine offering – mostly French and Italian, low-intervention without being awfully freaky – is available to take home or drink here for $25 corkage.

Ted's by-the-glass blackboard is an ever-changing liquid feast: it's unlikely that anything pouring on Monday will still be available on Friday, and there's a desire to match the offering to the weather and the vibe. Jaunty rosé may step away and broody riesling elbow in as a hot day gives way to a thundery cool change.

Whitlow's cheeses are a niche but thrilling part of the offering. She applies a chef's knack for pairing flavours, meaning her tommes have a bold originality.

There's a semi-hard cheese matured under orange skins and lard, its bite shot through with a blossomy bouquet.

Another cheese is a tangy blend of buffalo and Gippsland Jersey milk that's been rubbed with burnt onion skins saved from the restaurant group's kitchens.

There's another young cheese in the fridge covered with blackened shallot "leather". It's early days, but Lucy thinks it smells like a caramelised onion toastie.

Cheese comes hot, too: brie is wrapped in delicate culatta (cured pork from Parma) and baked to a gentle ooze.

Lots of little bars do the job for their neighbourhood, offering snacks, tipples and a meeting place. Grana sets that as the baseline, but there's more going on here, most notably a nurturing of and investment in Lucy Whitlow, artisan, cook, nascent cheesemaker and – I reckon –  one of the coolest up-and-coming creatives in Melbourne's culinary culture.