Restaurant review: Fico, Hobart

Fico, the new kid on the block of Hobart’s blossoming food scene, serves a modern take on Italian-inspired food.

John Lethlean

2 min read

12:00AMFebruary 25, 2017

Pride of place: Youth, Italy and Tassie produce combine at Hobart’s Fico. Picture: Matthew Newton

Ten minutes over coffee with a well-informed local is all it takes to get up to speed on Hobart’s food scene. Who’s open, who’s closed, which chef has gone where and who pinched whose sommelier. Who’s run away to the mainland; who’s fled the mainland for a quieter life. The dearth of staff. The usual stuff.

And any chat about Hobart’s food scene will inevitably lead to Fico, new kid on the Macquarie Street block. The story so far: young chef Oskar Rossi, son of noted Hobart artist Tom Samek, returns from world travels, including a stint at Vue de Monde in Melbourne, with a beau on his arm, young Naples-born chef Federica Andrisani. They do pop-up events, which work well. They do a light, mature, modern take on Italian-inspired food. Everyone says: you should open a real restaurant. They say: let’s do it.

Fico is not much to look at, a small-budget makeover, although undoubtedly prettier than the newsagency that preceded it. It is old, spacious, with tables generously set around two adjoining rooms and a nondescript colour scheme lifted with OK furniture and a few quirky murals. A kind of eating bar/desk/waiters’ station is the only concession to modern, post-table eating.

But there’s a different warmth at Fico and it comes from well trained, unpretentious staff with an infectious pride in the kitchen’s product. You want to like Fico straight off, and the food doesn’t diminish the emotion. Youth, Italy and Tassie produce inform the dishes, but there’s no Tricolore jingoism. Plump for the set menu – $65; excellent value – and you’ll see fresh thinking, a tightly reined-in collection of flavours/elements, and time-consuming technique. It’s what you go out for.

Dishes such as the morsel of savoury brioche, like a baked doughnut, with a centre of smoked eel, a garnish of salty small roe and seaweed flakes: a riverfish heading for the sea. And cubes of perfect, firm, soy-cured kingfish with a slippery, gossamer sheath of bronze soy gel and a skullcap of wasabi creme fraiche. No, not Italian, but very impressive.

The finger of scored and crisp-grilled mackerel goes closer to the Continent, with tomato essence and olive oil in the dish, beautiful poached mini tomatoes, nasturtium, chive flower and green chilli, all foils to the fish’s inherent oiliness. Italia builds momentum. Along comes a lovely, super fresh zucchini flower stuffed with a smooth, house-made ricotta cream; it sits in a puddle of pure, vibrant tomato sauce with olive oil and basil. I didn’t think about extra seasoning all night.

Then a super-confident nest of firm, taupe-coloured tagliolini that relies on little other than an agrodolce roasted onion poaching broth, oil and parmesan for its success. I loved its power, austerity.

And half an expertly roasted pigeon (pictured) – dark, glossy-skinned yet pink-breasted – is plated with equal austerity with a simply brilliant beetroot jus.

I like that the tasting menu dishes differ from the carte. I like the sense of spontaneity a chef-driven restaurant can execute. And so we go off piste with a round of amaranth and yoghurt “pudding” topped with poached fig, fig leaf sorbet and a kind of baked milk cracker to crown it all. Liked the idea, but the fig itself was a little, er, subtle. Small beer.

Fico has energy and talent, in that gentle, modest Tassie manner. There’s pride of place and optimism on the plate. And we’ll hear more from Rossi/Andrisani, I suspect. It’s what people are saying over coffee.