• More reviews from Besha Rodell

Think back over 2023. Where were you sitting when moments of great culinary joy overcame you? This is the question I ask myself each December as I scroll through my memories and articles and notes on my phone. What stood out? Where do I long to sit again, eat again, drink again?

This year, the answers were decidedly low-key. Neighbourhood-based. If there was a thread, it was one of ground-level excellence. This, to me, is a good thing. Melbourne has always shone in this way – it’s the very quality that I speak about most often to visitors or when writing for national or international readers. This city is rife with everyday transcendence, and as a result, our everyday existence is, well, transcendent.

It would be easy to look at the slate of Melbourne restaurant openings in 2023 and declare this year to be a slow one. The number of large, flashy or wildly ambitious projects was lower than usual, perhaps. There were exceptions – Reine & La Rue, Atria, Totti’s. Each of these openings felt like an event, a grand bang of excitement.

And this was the year that Melbourne seriously stepped up its high-end sushi game, with newcomers such as Aoi Tsuki and Uminono leading the way. But as much as I appreciate these new stars on the scene, my favourite moments of the year were more down-to-earth.

I think about eating perfect golden-crisped sweetbreads and home-style Greek stews at Kafeneion, the CBD pop-up from Con Christopoulos – I do so hope it becomes a permanent fixture, in its current location or another.

I think about the fantastic French/Vietnamese food at Rue de Thanh. I think about Bar Bellamy and Bahama Gold and Commis, all fantastic additions to their neighbourhoods.

“As much as I love wheel reinvention, the thing I love most about Melbourne restaurants is the knowledge that you’ll be taken care of at every level.”

I’ve become a regular at Bar Bellamy, and my job’s hectic eating schedule only allows for a few places that earn that distinction.

I think about Little Picket in Lorne, which is passionately ambitious in its own way, putting sustainability front and centre while reimagining the possibilities of the country town bowlo. But at its heart, that’s exactly what Little Picket is – a small-town community hub, serving comfort food that’s grown and cooked with love.

On a recent gloomy summer evening (what could be more Melbourne than that?) I ventured back to Alta, the Piedmontese trattoria tucked off Brunswick Street in Fitzroy. In March, I proclaimed their tajarin pasta with rabbit ragu one of my favourite dishes of the year, and I wanted to see if the magic of the place – and the dish – persisted.

It was early in the week, and most seats were full, but we were able to walk in and grab a table without a booking. The rabbit pasta was as good as I remembered; perhaps a little heavier on the olives in the ragu, but delicious and simple and comforting nonetheless. The cocktails were on point. The wine list was a delight of fun Italian finds, and the sommelier was smart and helpful and gracious.

But the best thing about it was its ease, its quiet assurance, its quintessential Melbourne shopfront elegance. In some ways, it’s just a neighbourhood trattoria – a very good one, and one that is more specific and considered than many. But there’s no pretension here, no grand egos at play, no reinvention of the wheel.

And as much as I love wheel reinvention, the thing I love most about Melbourne restaurants is the knowledge that you’ll be taken care of at every level, that special food is a daily occurrence for those lucky enough to be able to afford it.

A word about affordability. This was certainly not the year for that. I remember when I started this job, less than two years ago, the average bill for dinner at a mid-priced restaurant – including cocktails, wine, and three or so courses – was about $220. These days, it’s at least $100 more than that, and the gap between casual eating and fine dining is shrinking in the economic sense, if not in other ways.

I hope that means people are being paid better. That we’re creating a more sustainable industry. In 2024, I’d like to see a respite from the uncertainty of the last few years. I’d like to see some good news. I’d like to see some more swing-for-the-fences, all-out ambition, sure. But sustainability, in the industry, in the city, in our way of life, is much more about low-key, steady and consistent excellence. I’ll never tire of that.