FORGET the old farmers versus urbanites debate - the real modern history of Australia is written in the push-pull tension of the city versus the suburbs.

It applies just as much to the restaurant world. The hindsight goggles show the industry is stuck in a cyclical groove. One year it's all about the city - a fevered land-grab as people gravitate towards the excitement of dumpster-strewn laneways, or the thrill of the hard-to-find bunker in the bowels of an apartment building. A year or two later you've got a bunch of chefs rediscovering the great unspoken mass of people just dying for someone to open a worthy place close to home. They mightn't be as sexy, but there's gold in them hills.

Joe Vargetto is the latest member of the outwardly mobile push and he's more than usually well-placed to make a comment on any thesis on the city-'burbs divide. The co-owner of city Sicilian bistro Mezzo, he and business partner Silvio Sgarioto have taken over the site that once housed Svago, which was itself one of the revelations of the previous suburban crawl.

They're not alone in taking up residence along the Kew-Hawthorn axis. Mister Bianco joins the likes of Chester White and St Katherine's in spreading the cheer. There's been a fair bit of activity in this part of town over the past 12 months, but saturation point hasn't been reached.

Open a few months, Mister Bianco has proven so popular they quickly spruced up two rooms on the second floor to accommodate the flow-on. It's a perfectly fine place to enjoy your dinner while looking over the High Street rooftops, although if you're like me, you will judge it maddeningly removed from the action. The sadistic consolation comes from knowing the waiters are doing the equivalent of Denise Austin's Butt and Thigh Workout 20 times a shift, but downstairs is where you want to be.

The two adjoining rooms nail that smart-but-comfortable thing that's more difficult than it sounds. Set up in classic bistro fashion with the wooden bar dominating one wall and tables balanced around it, the colour scheme sticks to the bianco brief, the lighting is flattering and easy on the eyes, and the acoustics cope admirably with the challenges posed by a full restaurant with hard surfaces.

So who is Mister Bianco? Characterising this place as a single entity is a bit of a challenge. The style, while unified by a somewhat heavy hand with the salt, isn't wholly consistent - some dishes make a beeline for rustic southern Italian while others go for a fancied-up modern restaurant version of the aforementioned. The menu, divided into stuzzichini (little starters), entrees and mains and a separate heading for the chargrill and pasta and risotto, won't always let on which direction you're heading. Yet I'm thinking its occasional ostentations aren't exactly the worst ploy to meet the expectations of its diners.

Your average Sicilian would have trouble recognising the kitchen's way with zucchini flowers, which are stuffed with ricotta and fried, then served with a splodge of saffron-infused cream, slivered almonds and a ribbon of shaved carrot. And that's just on the stuzzichini list, where eating rarely broaches any intellectual considerations. But the salt cod and potato croquettes are straight from the village manual: fat golden footballs with chunks of fish and potato instead of a creamy mush and served with a mostly unadulterated parsley sauce, they're one of the better versions of this ubiquitous snack.

Heading to the entrees list, octopus - as tender as its braising in olive oil promises - comes on top of a rather refined potato salad dotted with slivers of black and green olive and crunchy nubs of celery. The crowning thicket of fried leek is pure French-influenced contemporary restaurant.

A really lovely terrine - big and chunky with pork, quail and duck bound in jelly and wrapped in bacon - takes the mood back to rustic. Head over to the pasta list for a Sicilian-to-its-terracotta-dish lasagne with smoked mozzarella, hard-boiled eggs, peas and eggplant backed by a memorable sugo.

Then the tipping point is upset again with a tuna carpaccio that finds six rounds of seared-edged raw tuna turned into three little hamburgers sandwiching a sort of tuna tartare with tomato, cucumber and bound with avocado. Around the plate there's compulsive ingredient-adding - shaved bottarga, sesame seeds, pistachios, fried capers. For all the busyness, I liked the flavours a hell of a lot. And for $16, it's damned good value.

Money goes a fair way here. The wine list, which is an honourable Australian-Italian collaboration with varietals ordered by price with more than tokenistic sub-$40 interest. And the sharing menu, which offers a choice of three courses from six options for $60.

Mains hover in the sub-$35 category, which in this suburb, is noteworthy in itself. At $32, a red wine-braised beef cheek is glossy with a sticky cooking-juice sauce pooled around the edges of an excellent, loose polenta. It's home-style cooking at its finest, although the silty gremolata is too polite and doesn't do its job of adding grunt to the mellow flavours.

The sweet end of the meal finishes in high-restaurant style. The flat, dense, glossy chocolate tart with a biscuity crunch wins points for intensity; on the other end of the spectrum, there's a girlish pink meringue nest with strawberries, sorbet and a sharpening dash of lime syrup. Both ought to fulfil dessert's fundamental brief of sending the crowds spilling happily into the night. That's what any restaurateur is aiming for and Mister Bianco (whoever he is) seems to have judged the balance about right.

Score14/20 - contemporary twists on classics