Set up by a cabal of young experimental artists, the vegetarian restaurant (named after one of the owner’s art projects) blends equal parts Chez Panisse and boho chic. The walls have been stripped back to raw brickwork and framed by concrete floors, high ceilings, curlicued window grilles that cast pretty shadows on the walls at night, and twirling ceiling fans. The air-conditioning is rarely turned on, but with the cross-ventilation provided by the open doors at both ends of the restaurant, you never really notice the difference. 

The whole set-up, with its co-op and hippy vibe, is a terrific idea with abundant potential. While waiting for your orders to arrive, pop next door to the lovely gallery space – a former brothel – which is partially funded by Food #03. In fact, it’s exactly the kind of place that Dempsey Hill so desperately needs to shake up its aura of smug elitism. Now, if only it could do something about the service and kitchen operations. 

Though it’s not a Malay restaurant, the vegetarian menu is halal. Clearly, much thought has gone into the food. It all comes through in each dish (marked on the menu as vegan or onion- and garlic-free), whether it’s the velvety smoothness of a beetroot soup that had the ruby-red hue of pomegranates, or the excellent home-made breads (chewy and crusty, with no preservatives or flavourings) that are also available for takeaway for about $3.50 a loaf. 

At one meal, the roasted pumpkin and yellow peppers soup charmed with its vivid sunburst colour, while the accompanying slice of fenugreek-scented bread was a perfect counterpoint. And at another, a pizza – its crisp wholemeal crust heaped with a pile of wilted spinach, peppers, feta and egg – put to shame just about every other self-styled authentic pizza joint in town. The tempeh burger started out low in the approval ratings, but by the end of the meal, was memorable for its piquancy, faux-meatiness and generous sides of roasted capsicum, zucchini and fried egg. Memorable, too, was a linguine stirred through with thick cuts of mushrooms, a vigorous shake of pepper and, of all things, peanut butter. The nuttiness of the latter was an unexpectedly good foil for the earthiness of the mushrooms, and proof that there is still plenty of room for successful experimentation in the kitchen. 


On that note, the Caesar salad was less successful, a dish that’s surely the restaurant world’s most abused lab rat. Food #03’s attempt is no better: a salad that comprises two over-fried eggs blanketing a nest of bitter cress and leaves, no dressing to speak of, no garlic, no croutons and no anchovies has no business calling itself a Caesar. 

Desserts are, like everything else on the menu, a little amateurish, but not in a bad way. There was, at one dinner, a burnt – but still nicely sweet – brownie that, disconcertingly, crumbled like rubble at the touch of a fork; and at another, a sizzling Banana Cow turned out to be a stodgy, but tasty, banana pancake bubbling on a hot plate with spiced orange jus. 

Where Food #03 is particularly let down is the service, including between course waits that are sometimes interminable. And unless you can pin down the manager, the wait-staff are generally clueless about the menu. It helps too to know that the kitchen is parsimonious with its salt which, in this case, works because of the clever combination of fresh ingredients – after a few bites, the base flavours take over and the whole saltiness issue becomes (for most) a non-issue. Also in Food #03’s favour is its cheap drinks menu, including organic or fair-trade teas. There is no GST or service charge, and when you factor in the relatively low prices for mains and the kitchen’s obvious enthusiasm, the missteps are soon forgiven.  

Further information on Food #03.