Every seat in this wine bar is hot property. Squeeze onto a stool at the bar,crowded with Balwyn’s svelte,loafer-wearing dads,and you’ll have unrivalled views of blue cheese and rosy prosciutto legs.

The slinky dining room down the back is better for languorous lunches of smoke-kissed calamari (enjoying a Mediterranean moment with lemon and capers),charcoal-grilled duck with sticky skin and deep-pink meat,and bowls of buttery pappardelle strewn with soulful rabbit ragu. Each bite is backed by a cellar of big Italian names and unsung grapes such as briny timorasso,and come midweek there’s BYO.

A frou-frou finale of ginger,apple and caramel in four textures makes the familiar exciting,while around you concrete,steel and marble inject more new into the old without diluting Italy’s holy trinity:great wine,conversation and food.

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Melbourne’s Eastern Suburbs

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