At Flint, the new restaurant in Fitzroy on Smith Street, the best dish on the menu might also be the simplest. Listed only as "carrot, carrot" ($22), the side dish shows the depth of flavour that can be eked out using only fire.

Carrot puree pools on the plate, while chunks of roasted carrots stick out from the bright orange puree like charred stumps, dotted with cooling labne and sprigs of dill. It is sweet and crunchy and fudgy and kind of brilliant: carrot to the power of carrot. 

The dish is a great advertisement for the ethos that chef and owner Nicki Morrison is embracing at Flint, which is that everything is cooked with fire – there are no stoves or ovens in the open kitchen at the back of the sleek dark room, just a hearth with some grates and a woodfire beneath.

Morrison has plenty of experience with fire and smoke, running the barbecue catering company Sticks and Bones. But with Flint, she wanted to expand her repertoire beyond barbecue and return to her original love – modern creative cooking. 

The theme of Flint extends to the decor, meaning the walls and floors and bar are all a dark charcoal, bordering on black, with banquettes and bar stools a muted olive green.

Morrison is sometimes in the kitchen and sometimes on the floor, with her sous chef Yukio Endo handling cooking duties. It's a small and friendly operation, often staffed by only three people in total.

There's a fun cocktail list that is mainly twists on classics – a gin sour made with yuzu ($20); a vodka martini with umami bitters ($20) – and a short, predominantly Australian wine list. 

Morrison's food is creative and colourful. Oysters ($6 each) are topped with a mango mignonette that's been whipped into a foam the hue of sunshine and has just a hint of fruitiness – it looks far more overwhelming flavour-wise than it actually is, allowing the oyster to shine through.

There's a kingfish crudo ($26) in a sauce of charred cucumber, topped with beetroot, striking in its green and purple presentation.

Venison tartare ($28) is flavoured with beetroot cream, kohlrabi and cured egg yolk, and served with a large puffed rice cracker that hides a layer of nori underneath it. 

We are living in a golden age of butter (a ridiculous statement, I know, but it's true), with chefs putting their own creative spins on the ubiquitous spread, and Morrison has given us a fine addition with her smoked bone marrow butter that comes with hearty toasted bread ($5). The marrow flavour isn't overwhelming, but adds a layer of umami and richness that works fantastically well. 

The fire is put to its best use with main courses, like a whole flathead ($42) with vermouth cream swirled with herbs, or a duck breast ($58) cooked perfectly, its rosy flesh bolstered by stalks of charred spring onions and a thin jus made from fermented capsicum. 

The skill and creativity on display at Flint are undeniable, but there's one flaw to Morrison's cooking and it is almost universal: she is apt to go way overboard on the salt. I noticed this during multiple visits over the course of a few weeks, and I overheard other tables complain of the same thing.

Even dessert one night, a brown butter cake with fermented strawberry and cream cheese frosting, was unnervingly salty.

I speak as a salt fiend, and someone who thinks most desserts might benefit from more of the stuff, but there were times when I simply wasn't able to finish a dish here thanks to sodium overload. 

Thankfully, this is an easy fix. Flint is the type of place I'd love to see more of: owner-operated, small-scale, with a clear vision that's driven by passion.

With a little less salt and a little more time, I can see this restaurant becoming a clear neighbourhood favourite. 

Vibe Brooding and modern, an ode to smoke

Go-to dish Carrot, carrot 

Drinks Short and fun cocktail, beer and wine list

Cost About $130 for two, plus drinks.