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Does anyone else remember when Spanish food was all the rage in Perth? When the entire city seemed to be on a C-food diet (croquettas, chorizo and churros). When establishments such as Pata Negra, pioneering small bar Andaluz and Leederville veteran Duende were the hot tables everyone was gunning for. When Spanish chefs were kings of the fine dining world, and the media swooned over the kitchen wizardry of El Bulli’s Ferran Adria and the high-minded, occasionally challenging food of Andoni Luis Aduriz at Mugaritz.

As with all trends Perth’s Spanish revolution quietly subsided and was replaced by movements such as New Nordic locavorism (still going strong) and the calorific adventures of the dude food era (not so much, thankfully). But that’s not to say that the city has completely forgotten about its Spanish fling.

Despite being more than two decades old, Duende continues to fly the flag for Spanish eating and drinking. This long-stayer is joined by newcomers such as nearby Pinchos, Justin Bell’s seven-day tapas bar, and a new crop of other Latin and South American-focused eateries. Think venues such as suburban small bar Pantano and Argentine butcher Churras where staff light up the barbie for Saturday brunch and sling bolshy sandwiches groaning under the weight of smoky steak and sausages.

Then there’s Picada, a contemporary, grown-up Spanish bar and restaurant within the city’s Hibernian Place precinct, a largely manmade pocket of the city that gently hums with energy on a sunny, uncharacteristically warm May day. Pale blue beanbags are strewn across a small lawn. Outdoor tables that are Bumblebee Transformer-golden dot the thoroughfare. Staff and students from nearby Royal Perth Hospital share their lunch break with office workers. The Westin Perth monolith looms overhead.

I imagine this landscape after dark and my mind goes straight to el paseo: the Spanish ritual of the leisurely, destination-less evening stroll where participants walk the city streets and stop to drink, eat, chat then wander some more. The less-romantic Australian translation, I think, might be “bar crawl”.

Whatever people call a night out on the town, Picada’s Glasgow-born chef Graham Arthur has been cooking for them for more than three decades. Since arriving in Perth in the 1990s, Arthur has been on the tools at some of the city’s favourite European spots, including E’Cucina, Balthazar and Duende) and is regarded by many cooks as a chef’s chef. The breadth of the Picada menu suggests this praise isn’t ill-founded.

Although Picada pitches itself as a tapas restaurant, only about a third of the menu is what would traditionally be considered tapas or perhaps pintxos. These are little snack-sized bites to accompany their on-theme drinks offering – Iberian wines, dry, salty sherries that taste of the sea – and hopefully keep you at the bar spending your pesos.

Think things like olives ($9); the ubiquitous croquettes flavoured with Spain’s famous jamon (three for $13); and gildas ($6), two tiny skewers threaded with sliced cornichons, olives, white anchovy and pickled guindilla chillies. Picada’s gildas are especially briny and mouth-puckering: you’re best nibbling off a piece at a time rather than chomping off a bunch all at once.

If time isn’t on your side, you can easily and pleasurably while away a half-hour with a few of these items, finish your drink, then happily head home or head to your next stop.

But it’s when you move onto the bigger, share-friendly dishes – what the Spanish might label raciones – that you’ll get to taste Arthur’s full range and grasp of Spanish cooking. Like the Argentine empanada ($8) starring gently spiced beef mince entombed in a pastie-like wheat half-moon. Or the outgoing chickpea and tomato dip presented with crusty country-style bread ($17), something of a kissing cousin to both hummus and the classic Catalan dish pan con tomate (toast rubbed with garlic and topped with raw, crushed tomato).

Arthur, like most working cooks in this city, has no interest in slavishly reproducing the classics. Rather, Spanish cooking is his star in the CBD’s East End that helps him decide how to proceed with the contents of his shopping trolley. I’m not sure how prominently the Spanish souffle ($22) features in Spanish cookbooks, but Picada’s version – a lush dome of just-cooked Manchego, parmesan and cream cheese ringed by charry florets of cauliflower – is a good time. I also wonder how many home cooks in Madrid would think of using toasted buckwheat to crunch up verdant twigs of grilled broccoli dressed with a bright spring onion sauce and dried paprika ($20) but I’m glad Arthur trusted his instincts. I also dig the way he left his broccoli on the stem and sliced the brassica whole into attractive, gutsy chunks: all the better to appreciate the vegetable’s different textures.

The barramundi ceviche ($28) – barramundi cured in citrus, cucumbers and peeled oranges, all diced and mixed – is fine, though the plus-sized slick of avocado it’s served on makes it feel like a brunch dish that left the kitchen without that all-important plinth of toasted sourdough. No issues with the tender lamb leg ($39), grilled until rosy and artfully arranged on a bed of labne, what Arthur calls a Catalan ratatouille. Think of the Provencal original starring slow-cooked tomato, eggplant and capscium, only supercharged with white anchovies, capers and lemon juice.

Perth, as restaurant watchers will know, is crushing big-time on Basque cheesecakes. (The version that Sofika Boulton is doing at Sonny’s continues to live rent-free in my head.) While Picada’s fluffy, almost cupcake-esque version ($17) has none of the jiggle or blackened bits one expects to find in a Basque cheesecake – not just an aesthetic consideration but essential to help counter the sweetness of the curd – it’s still a nice up-note to finish on. As is another look at the drinks list and a chat with well-spoken manager Darren Graham about what you should be ordering to round things off.

Perhaps Arthur’s storied career, or the angular, strong geometric look that Mata Design’s Paul Lim dreamed up for the space, is shaping my thinking, but Picada feels like a polished, grown-up establishment. Hip wine bars and cocktail joints lit with neon might be the flavours of the month, but Picada stays true to the restaurant DNA pulsing through its veins via considered service and a food offering pitched at diners, while not leaving snackers out in the cold. Now factor in snappy menu prices, plus a kitchen that stays open from lunch till late, and it’s hard not to fall to wondering: could now be a nice time for a little getaway to Spain?