Shirley’s

A bar-cum-bistro where fire-led instincts meet a loose, lively Fremantle energy.

There’s an air of someone starting fresh without starting over; Kenny McHardy’s almost-decade of experience at Manuka (just around the corner) is evident in the room – the calm service, the confidence, the sense that nothing is being forced – yet the setting of his latest chapter is a different creature entirely. White brick walls, flashes of flamingo-pink, a neon glow; it’s breezy, bright and unselfconscious, the kind of place locals claim quickly. You can drop in for a cocktail at the granite bar – maybe the sharp, green verdita riff or a chocolate-and-cherry old fashioned. Perhaps add a couple of in-season Albany rock oysters with housemade hot sauce. Or you can settle in for the night, which plenty do, helped along by warm, quietly capable staff and a blues-and-funk soundtrack that softens the edges of the room. McHardy still works best over fire, and it shows. Wood-fired focaccia lands warm and fragrant beside a spiced carrot-and-bean dip with pickled cauliflower. Pork cushion is grilled until tender and paired with fiery, bright kimchi. Tiger prawns arrive gently charred under a caper-and-olive crumb; beef cheek collapses into a Southern Thai curry that’s layered, aromatic and properly comforting. McHardy’s relationship with growers has always been a part of his success and here he heroes vegies in a pumpkin malfatti, pan-fried and gently sweet, and a crisp potato terrine with miso sour cream. Both feel fully considered. Shirley’s is easy in all the right ways: a neighbourhood spot with enough depth and generosity to keep you at the table longer than you intended.