Squint and you could be in the Hamptons. Limed timbers, cornucopian displays and vases bursting with pastel roses mean the look is chic, relaxed and a little Martha Stewart. The service is even more chilled out, trained in the chummy school of 'How're we doing, guys?' that gets the job done. Food is equally relaxed. Ripe figs nestle among San Daniele ham ribbons, that sweet-salty combo offset with milky buffalo mozzarella and light balsamic. Carefully dressed caesar salad is all heart, the crunch factor amped up with croutons and crisp pancetta, the boiled egg nicely tacky-centred. Tarragon-spiked tartare sauce makes everything on the seafood plate taste better, especially the buttery scallops and golden battered flathead fillets. The chips, sadly, were a bit blah. The highlight of a less-than-crisp lime and lemon tart was the silky filling topped with torched Italian meringue, passionfruit pulp and creme fraiche. With those glittering Pittwater views, we'll take Palmie over the Hamptons any day.