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Emma Breheny

Emma Breheny

Listings and reviews (3)

O.My

O.My

Taking the easy road is not part of the Bertoncello family values. Blayne and Chayse, the brothers behind ambitious fine-diner O.My have overcome fire, a pandemic and a relocation in the last 12 months without skipping a beat or compromising any of their exacting standards.  Farm-to-plate is an overused term but that’s the most succinct way to describe what the brothers Bertoncello are doing at their 25-seat restaurant in Beaconsfield on Melbourne’s fringe. This is the third location of O.My, after a fire in November 2020 engulfed the old Beaconsfield post office that housed the restaurant. Disaster struck just one day after the restaurant reopened following Melbourne’s long second lockdown.  Luckily, the brothers had just purchased a corner building on the Princes Highway, intending to open a more casual pizza and pasta spot. They quickly flipped it into the subtly luxurious room you sit in today, after crowdfunding and completing the fit-out in less than a month. Nothing has been dumbed down in the move. The team still grow the majority of the food they serve, creatively using every part of beast, vegetable or comestible. They write a new menu each day to use what’s ripe and ready. And they’re still smiling. Sixteen kilometres away is the O.My farm that supplies 100 per cent of the fruit and vegetables that are seen on the menu, from tomatoes to melons, passionfruit, beans, herbs, brassicas and even honey. The plot has grown to one hectare since it was planted in 2013, a fe

Rascal

Rascal

3 out of 5 stars

Rascal brings something new to Sydney Road: a serious cellar, an ambitious team and a sophisticated place to unwind with a glass of something and a couple of snacks. Led by Elliott Pinn, a chef with Doot Doot Doot and Sepia part of his pedigree, this wine bar looks the part. Bentwood stools, dark walls and timber furniture are accented by native Australian flowers and touches of red neon in a gorgeous heritage building. It’s a good idea to order some charcuterie. Everything is made by Pinn and his team and the selection might include breasola, wattleseed salami or mortadella. Paired with a sour beer or one of the sherries on the list, it’s a neat way to end the day or start dinner.  The crab toast is also a winner. Brioche is lightly toasted, spread with a crab-flecked seaweed butter, then dusted with furikake, the nori and dried bonito working wonders with the crab meat. Vegetarians and meat-eaters alike will enjoy the mead-roasted carrots. Small bite-sized boats are loaded up with a thick layer of goat’s curd and crushed macadamias in a rich yet meat-free bar snack. Unfortunately, the dial is turned a little too far towards sweet. It’s a problem that plagues the cauliflower, too. The menu promises “Cauliflower, tamarind, pistachio, curry oil”, but instead of a savoury hit of curry, the tamarind’s sour notes and an attempt to balance them with sweetness translate to a dish that’s reminiscent of Warheads lollies. In other dishes, there’s no battle: it’s a straight-up assault

Hazel

Hazel

3 out of 5 stars

The best thing about Hazel is the toast. It isn’t an afterthought to accompany a star entrée; it is the star. The bread, made in the kitchen’s wood-fired oven, is topped with the likes of steak tartare, lightly pickled mussels or duck liver pâté, in a genius move that takes these time-honoured starters and the bread they’re often served with and turns them into a unified whole. And who doesn’t love a snack on toast? Hazel is about giving the people what they want. This is the first restaurant by the crew who elevated Melbourne’s breakfast game with cafés Higher Ground, Top Paddock and the Kettle Black, but the cooking here is unpretentious. Scan the menu and you’ll recognise just about everything on it, from fettuccine to grilled prawns. Eating here feels like a throwback to simpler times, with a country kitchen look to match. Chef Zac Nicholson and his team aren’t too cool for garlic butter, which is spooned over just-firm rings of calamari, and they aren’t above lamb chops, which are cut from the forequarter for an extra meaty dish, each chop charred by the wood-fired oven but juicy in all the right places. A chimichurri heavy on mint calls to mind Sunday roast with mint sauce. Slender fillets of rock flathead are less successful when we visit. The textbook crisp skin is there, but the flesh is cooked unevenly, saved only by a sunshine-yellow beurre blanc. The undeniably talented kitchen is almost too efficient, leading to some uneven pacing of the meal. We recommend orderi