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For a suburb with high disposable income, Brighton has fewer smart, spendy
restaurants than you’d expect. Henrys redresses the imbalance.

The 140-seat, two-level restaurant opened just before Christmas and was instantly swamped by the soignee and the suave, here for lunch with the ladies, posh pizza with the kids, a first date or a 40th birthday, all of it rolled out with aplomb and a lack of pretension, if with a slight breathlessness from the constant thrum.

“We knew Brighton needed this, but we weren’t aware the passion would be so ardent,” is the unspoken undercurrent from the hands-on owners.

They bring a wealth of experience to the project: Alex Mouzos launched Jardin Tan for the Vue Group and worked at Chancery Lane in the city; George Loupos owns 20-year veteran Basilico in Albert Park; and chef George Bilionis is a Brighton boy who cooked with Greg Malouf and most recently headed up Elwood Bathers.

The offering here is clever, straightforward, fire-kissed, with a menu that features poised, sun-drenched dishes similar to those the patrons will snap for their social media in Sicily or Santorini later in the year.

We’re talking peeled peppers, as red as a Porsche 911, parked on herb oil and draped with preserved anchovies: there’s a waft of oregano, a tickle of red wine vinegar.

Octopus is softened slowly in the sous vide machine, then hit with the grill. It flops around with white tarama and lush drizzles of salmoriglio, a parsley, garlic and lemon dressing.

Every table seems to order the chilli crab linguine and I get it, I really do. Fraser Island spanner crab is gently sauteed with thyme, chilli and tomatoes, a little zucchini and finished with white wine and plenty of butter. The flavours, textures and seasoning are all bang on.

Pair it with a glass of flinty, aromatic Malagouzia Roditis, a Greek white-wine blend, and you’ll wonder if you really need a Euro summer when bayside Melbourne seems to have it sorted. Later this year, an outdoor plaza will offer even more opportunities for sandals and sunnies.

Poised, sun-drenched dishes are similar to those the patrons will snap for their social media in Sicily or Santorini later in the year.

Seafood is the vibe, but there’s plenty of other stuff. Chicken and pumpkin are roasted over fruit woods such as cherry and apple, while the steaks are cooked over heavier, robust ironbark.

Henrys launched with six cuts of beef, thinking to trim the offering back to the most popular. Unfortunately for their kitchen logistics, everything, from the grassfed tenderloin to the full-blood, grain-finished wagyu, is proving popular.

People are also returning for the exemplary bombe Alaska, a spherical dessert adventure wrapped in blowtorched meringue which reveals gingerbread and, finally, a raspberry sorbet centre. I was as happy as any gem prospector to find the ruby ice confection within.

A note on the name. In 1840, English squire Henry Dendy was sold a huge parcel of land in the young colony of Port Phillip for £1 an acre. In 1841, he sailed to Melbourne – where land prices were up to £60 an acre – and was eventually granted the coastal plains which are now Brighton. Dendy envisioned a manorial estate by the sea but three years later, through bad luck and lax management, he was destitute and retreated to Geelong to try his luck as a brewer.

No doubt the vagaries of business will be discussed at Henrys, the light streaming in like honesty, the colours picked out in olive, emerald and aquamarine. Unlike its namesake, though, the host restaurant seems set for long-term prosperity.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine