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Did you hear the one about the Irishman, the Frenchman and the Australian who opened a restaurant? The trio knew what they were doing, made the place charming and it wasn’t actually that funny at all. High-spirited, yes. Nice, definitely. Delicious: I’ll tell you shortly. But if you want hilarity, you can arrive with your own jolly anecdotes and unspool them for your dinner companions at this congenial 40-seat restaurant.

Omen opened in April at the beach end of Victoria Avenue near the number-one tram terminus. Public transport is a decent option, not just because Pierre-Marie Caillaud’s wine list – yes, he’s the Frenchman – is a lovely romp (and includes his own Vino Pierrot Sauvignon Blanc, $75) but because parking around here is a demoralising festoon of one-hour (until 10pm!) and resident-permit zones. It makes Albert Park feel like a gated community. After a 20-minute drive before I took a one-hour spot with a prayer, Omen was a welcoming balm. It was a good omen, too: the parking inspectors must have been dining out that night.

The menu is more or less French ... smart for the postcode (moneyed) and the times (tight).

Caillaud and chefs Declan Carroll (Irish) and Dean Stagno (Aussie) all worked together at Crown’s Rockpool Bar and Grill. It was at that swanky 200-seat institution that they concocted a plan for something smaller, more intimate – and their own. It took a while: there was a pandemic to sit out and they had to find the right site – a pleasant corner, previously occupied by Thai restaurant Thanon.

With costs up and spending down, it’s not the easiest time to open a restaurant, but the way Caillaud, Carroll and Stagno rationalised it, as they painted the walls, built a bar and hung some art, business is never going to be easy, so you may as well start at the hardest point in the curve.

The menu is more or less French, with the excitement residing in the fine cooking and attuned service rather than innovation. This is down to the classically trained background of the owners, of course, but is probably smart for the postcode (moneyed) and the times (tight). Prices are keen when you consider the excellent ingredients and careful techniques. Three owners who probably aren’t paying themselves yet means the value seesaw tips towards the diner.

Sourdough ($5 a piece) is baked using a starter that’s been nurtured for six years. It’s oven-baked, then rested above the Green Egg ceramic charcoal grill that handles much of the cooking. The crust is lightly smoke-tinged, the interior squishy and moist.

Brioche doughnuts ($9 each) are stuffed with chicken-liver parfait, glazed with sherry and dotted with hazelnut and cornichon. They’re a cheeky, one-bite rendezvous of indulgence and sophistication.

Duck croquettes ($10 each) are coated in a tapioca crumb crafted over five days using an extraordinarily complex process that Stagno learnt while working for three-Michelin-star UK chef Simon Rogan.

I’m honestly not sure all the mixing, steaming, drying, freezing, grating and frying pay off, but this multi-textural version of panko does make an apposite casing for gently braised duck mixed with its crisped skin.

Larger dishes to hit the Green Egg include wagyu rump cap ($65) cooked just so and served simply with condiments a la Rockpool.

Pork cheeks ($35) are slow-smoked for 16 hours with a honey-ginger glaze and served with roasted root vegetables. They’re lipsmackingly sticky and satisfying.

Cod fillet ($45) is lovingly butter-poached and topped with a shower of beer-batter bits: the contrast of fancy and fish ‘n’ chippie made me think of a poised princess in silken garb collapsing into gleeful giggles.

If there’s a gap in the menu, it’s the sides. The steak comes with salad and there are vegetable components with the pork and fish, but I’m surprised no greens are offered separately. Diners often share these days, rounding out a spontaneous banquet with roast veg or dressed leaves. It seems a missed opportunity, not only for diners but also for a restaurant that needs to make the most of every mouth that comes to visit.

To finish, apple tart and blue cheese are served together ($16.50), neatly side-stepping a restaurant conundrum I always find challenging: instead of choosing between cheese and dessert, you get both on the same plate.

The tatin-style tart is flipped so the caramelised fruit faces the diner. The cheese is Stilton, a sharp counterpoint. Blue cheese and apple are fine bedfellows: pairing them like this is clever and fun.

Omen’s owners may not be the set-up for a joke, but this sweet-tart assembly does make a terrific punchline.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine