Stephanie Mikkelsen

Looking to shake up your next pint? The Local Taphouse on Carlisle St is a temple to enabling such exploration. This is, after all, the venue first established by Steve Jaffares and Guy Greenstone, and which would later spur the founding of Stomping Ground Brewing Co and the GABS Craft Beer & Cider Festival. So yes, craft beer is taken seriously and you’ll recognise some of the beers and be introduced for the first time to others. Helpfully, the beer list above the bar is denoted by strength - so afternoons and evenings can be planned accordingly. There's a strong old England-meets-Bavaria mood. Think dark timber panelling, in-laid mirrors, dim sconce lighting and a gallery of beer-dedicated frames, prints and portraits on the walls. Downstairs, there are high-top benches, round cabaret-esque tables flanking a small stage at the back, and a side room with larger tables (tip: groups of six to eight should make a left to snag the table in the cosy window nook for added privacy and a street outlook). The side room has the bonus of a dart board and worn brown Chesterfield sofas at the back. Upstairs is The Local Taphouse’s crowning glory: a rooftop beer garden that's a magnet for sesh and sun-seekers. Because this is Melbourne though, it's also fitted with a retractable roof, fireplace and heaters.  Service is casual and on an as-needed basis. We fend for ourselves when grabbing a table and are told all ordering can be done via QR code or up at the bars. For eats, the food menu h

Lona Misa, the ground floor occupant at Ovolo South Yarra on Toorak Rd, is ambitious with its Latin influences as a 90-seat bar and restaurant. The powerhouse pairing of Shannon Martinez (Smith & Daughters) and Ian Curley (Kirk’s Wine Bar) take up arms in the kitchen. Martinez is the long-reigning queen of Melbourne’s plant-based dining scene and here, riffs on her grandmother’s recipes - an apologetic footnote on the menu is a playful ode to her inspiration. Our group of two omnivores and a vegan are running a few minutes late, however our table also isn’t ready once we arrive. We loiter by the door in the front bar area and take time to appreciate the fit-out. The design is bold, vibrant and strong on the retro-chic throwbacks; a chequer-tiled floor, emerald and orange furnishings, and replica oil paintings. The restaurant’s da Vinci namesake is here too, wearing headphones as well as her famous coy smile. Lona Misa’s large space feel intimate - an achievement that so many other diners fall short of.  It isn’t long before we're welcomed through to the back room, where booths are roomy, well spaced and have USB and power points. Staff explain the menu but we opt to bypass the set offering even though it’s an absolute steal at $85pp or $135pp with matched wines. We go down the a la carte route instead, keen to try the mock meats for which Martinez is so well known, and vegetables given the barbecue treatment in the in-built charcoal Josper oven. For drinks, cocktails, wines a

‘Low-waste’ and ‘sustainable’ aren’t just buzzwords at Ends and Means. This Gertrude Street cocktail bar puts its money where its mouth is, fuelled by combatting the high-waste practices co-owners Marc Frew and Josh Hunt saw throughout their respective careers. Very little in the bar’s fitout is first-use. Timber is recycled, including from the previous tenant’s old bar, and the current L-shaped bartop is made from copper, resin and a storm-damaged elm from Melbourne’s Royal Botanic Gardens. Menus are printed on recycled paper, there are no single-serving packaged beers or ciders available, and any organic fruit waste left over from creating stocks, jams and cordials is composted at Collingwood Childrens’ Farm.  It’s this dedication to the cause that backs up Ends and Means as a go-to for style and substance – making you feel you’re actually doing something for the planet as you work your way through the well-crafted cocktail list. The bar gets a green flag the moment we walk in the door. A venue as small as this can be daunting for newcomers unsure where to sit or where to go amid a line-up of regulars and locals already on first-name basis with those behind the bar. Not here though. We’re greeted warmly and welcomed to take either of the two-seat tables along a wall that's part exposed brick, part floral wallpaper and part crumbled rendering. Inside seats are limited: a worn leather chaise up front, bar stools and the aforementioned two-seaters. Outside, there's a twinkle-