Classic survivors of the family-run restaurants
The well-run family restaurant is a mainstay of any city or rural setting popular with day-trippers or holiday-makers.
Bistro Molines, Mountview, NSW
Robert Molines may be a grandfather but it doesn’t stop the chef commanding the kitchen of his charming, Provencal-ish restaurant in the Hunter most days. And let’s face it, they need him. Even a quiet day is busy at this gorgeous, unpretentious home to what they proudly call “old school” food. “Old school with a fresh eye” might be a better descriptor. Bistro Molines is a gentle reminder of timeless combinations: light, French-ish food cooked expertly, good wine and excellent, knowledgeable hospitality. The site, overlooking a lush valley, vineyards and a few chilled cattle, doesn’t hurt either. It’s beautiful. Sit on the terrace with a Thomas Braemore semillon and a plate of poached crustaceans with leek terrine vinaigrette, and that French music in the background may just go to your head. Sourdough served with aioli; little vol-aux-vents with quail eggs and hollandaise; perfect braised moules mariniere; pan-fried (in butter) globe artichoke with an acidic dressing and feathery shaved pecorino; a salad of pigeon, lardons, radicchio and hazelnuts … This is a menu full of flavours and combinations that never stopped working, done expertly. As refreshing as the countryside itself.
Lucio’s, Paddington, NSW
Remember when the whole bloody going out to eat thing wasn’t about chefs? Nice, wasn’t it? I could name you some of my favourite places to eat without knowing who runs the kitchen because the places are about the culture created and the standards set by the owner, not the staff. This is in no way a slight on the talented individuals behind great, restaurateur-driven kitchens. Just acknowledgment of a different model. In Melbourne you might call it the Di Stasio model; in Sydney, Lucio’s, although it is, of course, traditional and neither S. Di Stasio nor S. Galletto invented the idea of a restaurant built around the owner’s preferences. I like it. Good restaurateurs are in touch. And they presumably have excellent relationships with their head chefs. At Lucio’s, which has been there for 33 years, you can feel history, smell the power and eat lovely, handcrafted Italian food. You can eat the best Genoa-inspired pesto in Australia, made at the table, with handmade pasta. You can be looked after by proper, experienced waiters. You can ask someone to recommend a barbera and get a meaningful response. When it works, this restaurateur-driven model, it really works. And Lucio’s has it sorted.
Lau’s Family Kitchen, St Kilda, Victoria
When Gilbert Lau AM, doyen of Melbourne’s Chinese restaurateurs, got out of the Flower Drum and opened a small bistro in 2006, it was supposed to be for his sons Jason and Michael, a transition to retirement after so many years as the public face of the nation’s most venerated Cantonese dining room. The place took off for all the right reasons: friendly service, warmth, a welcoming scale to the space, quality food, good wine and a certain family-derived je ne sais quoi. The new Flower Drum, said some. It wasn’t. It isn’t. But Lau’s is still wonderful for all the same reasons. And, at 75, Gilbert is there several nights of the week, much as he was at the start, “helping the boys a little bit”. He just knocks off a little earlier these days, and long may it last. But whether Lau Sr is there to greet the legions of regulars or “the boys” and several long-term staff members who seem to be honorary Lau family anyway, the delightful, unreconstructed Cantonese food is as strong as ever: poussin poached in a sweet and fragrant soy broth; battered oysters; and a seriously special fried rice with scallops and char siu pork. It’s reassuring, familiar and timeless, cooked with care using fine produce. It’s a good recipe. And the wine list is a little gem, well-priced and full of interest. It’s what neighbourhood restaurants should be.
Chianti, Adelaide, SA
If there is a common thread to this Fab Four, it is family. Just about every worthy classic is built around a strong, multi-generational family core. Adelaide’s Chianti, which opened in different premises but by the same family — the Favaros — in 1985 is no different. Frank and Maria Favaro are custodians of the Chianti DNA. Their kids are involved, too, at the same time as running Bar Torino next door. And if you want to know what makes a real institution, it’s all about hospitality. Yes, they have a strong, well-priced wine list, and the food, while it doesn’t push any envelopes, is comforting and well executed. The lovely, historic space is flooded with natural light (difficult in an old building), warm and comfortable. But it’s the way the staff interact with customers that explains its enduring success. The warm meet-and-greet; the strength of service; the sincerity of the patron who works the tables in a solicitous manner, never upselling, just happy to see her restaurant full. Bagna cauda with excellent bread and super-fresh crudites is a treat; their tagliolini with an emulsified butter and tomato sauce, blue swimmer crab meat and a little basil is bursting with flavour. And in Adelaide’s much-anticipated pipi season, spaghetti with Goolwa pipis (clams), fresh cherry tomato, chilli, oil, garlic and tiny bits of broccolini is simply textbook. And being Adelaide, the value for money should strike you as refreshing too.
