A sassy yet intimate haunt as dark and enigmatic as its name, twisting modern Italian dishes in adventurous ways.
Don’t expect any of the usual suspects at this sultry Mount Hawthorn wine bar. Like its glass entry, inky walls and creative Italian menu, the trademark is originality. Instead of an obvious staple like crab linguine, you might meet housemade farfalle wrapping ground pork and veal into glossy folds glazed in ricotta whey, with crisp sage. Forget tuna tartare. Let’s have diced prawn and daikon in velvety mayo, teamed with the crunch, grit and smoke taint of grilled house focaccia. The roe-topped bites sit on a white doily; the rustic pasta presented in granny-chic crockery. It’s fun, like the familial service. But wait, a wildcard: quail on a bed of grated carrot and parmesan doused in warmed spiced honey, pickle juice and fish sauce. The kitchen is nothing if not daring. The chef spins magic in the four-metre-wide venue’s only luminous corner, while circular tables for two line a wine wall. Larger pews get the white tablecloth treatment; groups gravitate to a sausage dog-long high table. Yes, it gets noisy – perhaps a reflection of the exploratory, mainly Italian wine list. Calm the clang via a smooth chocolate tart with slices of fresh orange, drizzled in fragrant fernet branca syrup.
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