Kirbie review 2024: Kara Monssen visits South Melbourne restaurant

South Melbourne’s new neighbourhood hang isn’t exactly new, but with city restaurants leaning into its ‘what’s old is new again’ era, you can see why it’s popular.

Welcome to the Restaurant 2.0 era.

Think same venue – just different name, concept, fit-out and sometimes, chef.

Everybody’s doing it.

Torquay’s Samesyn had a Covid change of heart and is now a not-for-profit powerforce with a squeaky ethos.

A million-dollar nip/tuck and new chef in the driver’s seat has arguably made 21-year-old Vue de monde better than it’s ever been.

In South Melbourne last month, restaurateur Kirbie Tate rebranded her posh Japanese and Korean slashie JAMES into snack haven and wine hang, Kirbie.

At JAMES, the food was clever, refined and maybe a little fancy for its own good.

I know many still adore upper-echelon eats, it’s just the household budget has been a buzz kill for that lately.

Which explains why more restaurants are shifting to approachable and inexpensive, without compromising quality or approach.

It’s less foam and fiddling and more chicken soup for the soul.

Kirbie in South Melbourne is a new neighbourhood wine and snack hang.

After the restyle, Kirbie now feels like it’s finally wearing the right-size shirt.

The vibe is more neighbourly and relaxed, the food and drink supporting this nicely.

Locals have more reason for a spontaneous midweek drop-in for vinos in the ice-bucket and oysters in the sun.

Affordable Aussie pours by the glass? Tick. Fancy foreign friends to swirl at your expense? Sure. Decent non-alchs if you’re off the gear? Hear hear.

Without the Korean/Japanese cuisine harness, Tate (who works with the kitchen and three sous chefs), is deliberately fluid in Kirbie’s cuisine, border-skipping through Spain, France, Greece, Italy and even Thailand.

Does menu cohesion matter if it all tastes bloody delicious? I think not.

Stress ball squishy flatbread ($9.50 for one), smothered in Kirbie’s “secret” is a good place to start, just pack the breath mints for later.

Follow through with an iron-rich two-biter of chicken pate on toast ($14 for three) to a classic take on Japanese scallops wrapped into porky lardo parcels and bubbling in burnt butter($22 for four).

Come for the small plates and wine, stay for the good times.

Kirbie is home to a functional wine list.

Maybe you’ll inject a random Greek chicken soup course here, which is off the menu for now, but I am told will be back. Things change thick and fast at this joint.

Thankfully Kirbie’s front-of- house team masters meal-pacing to avoid flavour clashes.

That chicken lemon soup ($22) followed an avgolemono model with a gelatinous broth and acidic backbone, fleshed out by tender meat tresses and rice.

Swordfish ($42), wading in a coconut cream pool with pipis, zingy with lemongrass, green chilli and crinkly fried curry leaf, kicks Kirbie up a notch.

Lick-the- plate-clean yum, it crowbarred into my brain as the showstopper.

After something more traditional? Kirbie’s got you.

If you’ve been to JAMES, Kirbie will give you deja vu.

There is also a daily changing steak, this visit a rump cap ($52), cooked to a perfect medium-rare smothered in a herby Kirbie green butter sauce with fries (extra $10).

Or try the roast chook ($39), spanner crab linguine ($38) or even a pot of mussels ($33).

Kirbie shows real commitment to veg plates.

No longer a lanky side or afterthought, greens take centre stage with sensational expressions seen in the cucumbers slicked in ajo blanco (white Spanish soup of bead, almonds, garlic, olive oil) and smoked almonds ($16) and white zucchini with a yoghurty ricotta and snappy radishes ($17).

Reasonably priced, revolving door of global deliciousness, fine and functional drinks list and warm hospitality – Kirbie is the place you want in your hood.