Ciao Cielo in Port Melbourne serves contemporary Italian with flair, sets benchmark for tiramisu
WANT to try a contender for Melbourne’s best tiramisu? Better head down to Port Melbourne where nonna’s finest sets the benchmark for brilliant, writes Dan Stock.
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IT means “pick me up”, but if there’s a dessert likely to leave you feeling flat, it’s tiramisu.
This ubiquitous Italian that should’ve gone the way of the raffia-covered Chianti bottles in the gingham-clad trattoria is a cliche for all the wrong reasons. Ruined by lazy chefs serving up violently sweet cream and soggy cake, it is little more than boozy baby food for adults.
In the wrong hands, that is.
But in the right ones, tiramisu can be truly historic.
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Scooped tableside from a ceramic bowl onto a plate that’s already dressed with an orb of great coffee ice cream that’s wearing a dark chocolate tuille, this balanced blend of sticky/silky mascarpone and still-defined sponge is like eating a caffe corretto sweetened with a hug.
“Nonna’s tiramisu” at Ciao Cielo is affirimingly brilliant, thanks to co-owner Kate Dixon’s nonna, Mary, whose recipe has been passed down through the generations and now incarnations of this Port Melbourne restaurant.
Kate and husband Bryan Nelson first opened Ciao Cielo on Bay St 2010 in homage to Mary and over the past eight years built up a firm following for Bryan’s contempo-Italian fare. They moved down the road into the glorious heritage-listed one-time courthouse and after some interior work — and an exterior addition, more on that later — reopened this much bigger version mid April.
It’s a magnificent building, as those who dined in the Argentinian/Spanish Corte that was its last custodian will remember. Now the distressed stone walls and original oak beams in the soaring ceiling are juxtaposed by (slightly uncomfortable) powder blue banquettes, dark wooden tables and bentwood chairs, an open fire crackling away adding warmth to the sun that’s streaming through the windows in the roof on this winter’s day.
Add some Sinatra floating across the room, a glass of the palest pink Provence rose in hand and a plate of signature “suppli” and you have a scene set most elegant.
Suppli are to Rome as arancini are to Sicily — they’re both basically fried rice balls — with the Romans sneaking mozzarella into their version.
Here, generously duck-strewn, parsley-flecked rice surrounds a hunk of molten cheese, golden-crunchy crumbs covering the golf ball-sized lot. Sitting on a spiced orange aioli whipped light, this suppli is indicative of Bryan’s take on Italian that’s two-parts tradition, one-part today. It’s also completely, addictively, delicious ($8 each).
So, too, is a plate of scallops.
Three perfectly cooked wobbly fat discs — a pan-fried-in-butter golden exterior giving way to an ever-so-slightly translucent inner — come on a macadamia crumble adding creamy nuttiness to the delicate shellfish. A vibrant green olive puree and shards of chewy prosciutto add salty allure, with a smoked fish croquette completing with another hit of crunchy-fried crumbs.
It’s a pretty plate that’s executed with class ($20).
More crunchy crumbs come scattered atop the signature Sardinian goat stew that’s served in a pot bubbling away hot from the oven. The garlicky pangrattato (breadcrumbs) add texture countered by cheesy soft polenta dumplings. The lean, mild-flavoured goat is superb, with a few gnarly bits caramelised by the oven adding chew to the rest that’s tenderly swimming in a rustic braise of olives, fennel and tomato. It’s the perfect winter’s dish ($34); a plate of bitter cima di rape tossed through anchovies, tiny capers and garlic is the perfect accompaniment ($10).
Rippled Italian stemware complements a great on-theme cellar that traverses a $50 verdicchio through $550 Brunello di Montalcino, with lots of good drinking in between from there and here. Though I’m not sure why tables are set with glassware if wines by the glass aren’t poured tableside. It’s an oversight in service that’s otherwise charming, with friendly young internationals led from the front by manager Christian Zumstein.
And while a bowl of spanner crab spaghetti ($34) hardly transported me to Italian Riviera — more tomato than crab that needed more seasoning and chilli to properly sing of summer — the casual Ciao Cucina outside has a pastel-hued beachy vibe that channels Capri. Set up to be one of southside’s great beergardens come the sun, the winter marquee is heated toasty helped by the bling-tastic mosaicked wood-fired oven in which a dozen white-and-red based pizzas are cooked.
It’s a fun companion to the more serious — though not stuffy — styles inside, a one-two team that admirably has the gamut of Port Melbourne’s old terrace and new apartment dwellers covered. For that Ciao Cielo should be applauded. But it’s for that tiramisu those from further afield should come down and say ciao.
Ciao Cielo
115 Bay St, Port Melbourne
Ph: 9646 7697
Open: Lunch and dinner daily
Go to dish: Nonna’s tiramisu
Score: 14/20