La Pinta restaurant review: Great value for money Spanish in Reservoir

Ridiculously cheap snacks, wine by the tap and a cool take on veggie dishes — is this the best suburban Spanish restaurant?

I’m not sure how long it took me to realise, but we barely ate any meat at La Pinta.

Not intentionally. Maybe I was too consumed with shoving hunks of warm sourdough into my mouth, one that’s baked in the Reservoir restaurant daily.

Or was I swooning over those woodfire-scorched carrots and blackened almonds drenched in smoky maple syrup? Possibly.

I just know it wasn’t before the beetroot — a $12 snack that’s shot right up there as one of my all-time favourite vegetable dishes.

It doesn’t look like much on the plate, thinly sliced purple discs covered by a canopy of fresh parsley and garlic scapes, bobbing in a vibrant orange galaxy of aleppo pepper butter.

But its brilliance lies in perfectly roasted beets. Overcooked it won’t slice fine enough to be threaded on a skewer and finished over coals, underdone and the texture’s off.

Mind blow. The beetroot and aleppo butter. Picture: Nicki Connolly

Owner and executive chef Adam Racina’s careful thought and execution, with not just this dish but his cooking across the board at the thriving neighbourhood eatery, is out of this world.

The snack is so fine I enjoyed catching the fragrant reminders on my fingers for many hours after. Please, no judgment.

Like most plates at La Pinta, it won’t be around for long. Things at the modest 55-seater change quickly.

Racina deliberately keeps his produce as local as possible, plucked from farms such as Keilor’s Days Walk, Remi’s Patch in Kilmore and Werribee’s Faranda Farm.

Vegetables take a front seat at La Pinta (a Spanish turn of phrase without any direct translation), but you can still order meat depending on what’s available at Sunbury’s Lakey Farm or Bundarra Berkshires at the time.

At $5 a pop, the tortilla is excellent value. Picture: Nicki Connolly

Charred pork scotch fillet strips or iron-rich lamb heart tiles with pickled plums were at the ready on our visit, as was the uncommon mutton leg that’s been cold-smoked and served with a salty, sweet caper-raisin mix.

Oddball seafood also gets a go at La Pinta, with Two Hands World calling on corner inlet fisherman to supply Tommy Ruff and Silver Trevally, and Racina leaning on a fellow Preston local for his Portarlington mussels.

La Pinta is a no-frills affair. It’s pretty relaxed eating and drinking.

There’s a pared back, white-walled dining room adorned with kitsch artwork and a chalkboard menu, anchored by a 20-seat horseshoe bar separating the kitchen.

Make sure you nab a ringside seat to see where the magic happens.

Start with a drink. Beer, cider and wine change with the seasons, with most of the latter on tap supplied by Lakey Farm, Bespoke and Blood Moon wines.

Don’t worry, La Pinta has meat. Pork Scotch Fillet. Picture: Nicki Connolly

It’s poured by the glass or carafe to enjoy over a few small plates. All drinks lean towards sustainable or organic, with La Pinta making its own tonic water and fruit syrups – it even has a house-fermented ginger beer in the works.

All food at La Pinta is designed to share, with no more than 20 things on the tapas-style menu.

Its lockdown-hit tortilla still proves a strong favourite, made simply with potatoes, onion, eggs and a good heaping of salt, as does that bread made from two types of organic flour, the cakes and basque cheesecake.

That Spanish breakfast staple is delightfully light, wolfed down in seconds and at $5 a pop we had zero hesitation in taking another slice to go.

Burnt Basque Cheesecake. Picture: Nicki Connolly

La Pinta in Reservoir. Picture: Nicki Connolly

The same went with dessert, a dense plum cake served with a good wad of cream, which like most things at La Pinta is excellent value.

It’s reassuring to know you’ll be kept full and won’t break the bank after trying a few small and large plates, which cost between $10-$20 each.

Plus with things changing often, you’ll be able to eat widely without fear of conquering it all and never returning.

There’s no bells and whistles or machine behind this restaurant. Just simple, honest, delicious, northside cooking that’ll have you questioning your veg game.