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“How was dinner at A.P Bread and Wine?” I asked a friend who had just been to the new Darlinghurst joint a couple of weeks ago. “It’s pretty delicious,” he replied, “but, gee, there is a lot of bread.”

Well, yeah, I thought. “Bread” is in the name. And “A.P” is shorthand for All Purpose Bakery, co-founded by a group of mates, including chef Mat Lindsay, from Chippendale’s Ester, and baker Dougal Muffet. I’d be on to the competition regulator if there was anything less than enough carbs to power a half-marathon.

But I can see his point. Even the dinner menu lists a “petit croque monsieur”. Half a charred and juicy chook arrives on a plinth of sourdough French-onion-soupified with melting cheese and reviving broth; a formidable bread basket comes with naturally leavened brioche and whipped garlic butter; a fist-sized vol-au-vent is filled with mushy peas and gravy; anchovies, breadcrumbs and submissive zucchinis enhance, rather intensely, bitey spaghetti made with leftover bread.

A.P Bread and Wine opened in a sandstone cottage near Oxford Street in late January. It’s the perfect site for Muffet’s breads and pastries, many of which look as if they could have been baked in an ancient French farmhouse that smells of cassoulet and drying herbs. A fougasse loaf with dark, dramatic crust; sourdough made with heritage wheat and house-milled grain; thick, caramelised canelés; super-buttery kouign-amanns; sticky, individual peach galettes.

Whole pull-apart “country wheels” are available for home catering, or you might find individual segments filled with mortadella and a pistachio kind-of pesto. It’s the breakfast roll for when you’re not really having breakfast. Regulars of A.P’s locations in Surry Hills, Newtown and the CBD will be acquainted with the spicier-than-expected Aleppo pepper, Asiago cheese and sesame scroll (I know people who consider it a death-row brunch).

But it’s the Darlinghurst exclusive dine-in options, sent out from a kitchen helmed by chef Jono Fisher, that make the new digs worth repeat visits. A rissole sandwich is made on thick-cut Japanese milk bread, soft against the backyard-barbie crust of the patty. I need to return just to experience the chicken sausage, egg and cheese muffin at its full potential – that is, with a seat in the leafy downstairs courtyard, and a hangover, and a cocktail of wattle-infused tequila, dark rum and cold brew.

Left-field booze fancier Paul Guiney has pulled together a short, smart drinks list with plenty of personality, from fleshy Thierry Fournier champagne to a beautiful, root-based amaro from Iseya Distillery in Japan (terrific with a slice of fig and frangipane tart). He may also have a claim to the coldest, freezer-chilled martini in Sydney; I’ve never encountered a glass with visible icicles before.

Oysters Kilpatrick are essential if they’re on the specials board, each bivalve’s slice of bacon as thick as a novella. Throw in a celery-forward caesar salad, and you’ve got the ideal dinner for when you’re not really having dinner. Baked mulloway is the lightest large-plate option, the fish firm (but not dry) under braised leeks and a herb crust. The other week, there was also a $125 wagyu scotch fillet to share.

Rissoles. Steak. Bread baskets. Oysters Kilpatrick. “We’re just a posh RSL,” says Guiney, and he’s not far wrong. Paper napkins and a no-bookings policy keep to the theme, plus puddles of martini condensation on the table (more coasters would be good). It may not be aiming for the level of Ester’s two-hatted dining, but in terms of an all-day, casual bistro delivering on the promise of its name, Bread and Wine nails the brief.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine