Call us suckers, if you will, but as soon as we find out a restaurant kitchen revolves around an enormous wood-fired oven, we're whipping out our phones to make the first booking we can. And when a venue is so bold to name themselves after that most crucial element, fire, then they'd better have the goods to back it up. Ates, or 'fire' in Ottoman Turkish is the name of the game at this cosy and casual piece of Blackheath history.
The heart of the restaurant is the W. J. Amos wood-fuelled oven, originally installed back in the 1870s, and has been a major player at Vesta, Fumo, and, most famously, of Vulcan's, run by chef Phillip Searle and Barry Ross from 1994 to 2014, all of whom inhabited the Ates space. The Amos wafts iron-bark wood into the earthy terracotta hued dining space, warmed by a constantly tended bed of coals, and sets the mood for the menu that leans heavily on local.
Headed up by Will Cowan-Lunn, the concise and considered menu changes seasonally and it is clear the chef has brought his years at Tetsuya's and Rockpool Bar and Grill to the Blue Mountains, albeit with fewer tweezers and microherbs. Mammoth wedges of sweet blackened pumpkin, whole crsip ducks with a five spice caramel sauce, and fluffy olive-spiked focaccia are just a few of the smoke-infused numbers you'll spy in the Amos at any given time, all sourced from local producers like Malfroy's Gold wild honey, Farm It Forward in Hazelbrook and Epicurean Harvest in Hartley.
The locavore ethos doesn't end in the kitchen however, with a drinks list that doesn't extend much further than the Megalong Valley with Darragh Wines, natural numbers from Frankly Bob Made This, and everyone's favourite Blue Mountains export, Mountain Culture.
Those hearty family style share dishes are offset by the more delicate 'fancy' snacks like scallop and prawn toast; a crisp-fried whitebread topped with brassica rich cauliflower purée, avruga caviar and a single slender chive. It seems you can take the boy out of fine-dining but you can't take fine-dining out of the boy. It's a nice contrast and when restaurants of this calibre are few and far between in the vast expanse of the Blue Mountains, it's a welcome touch.
The Turkish influence at Ates is subtle but clear when you look closely. That blistered pumpkin we mentioned earlier is paired with heady garlic yoghurt and a shocking green pool of coriander oil. Chunky and sweet beetroots are served with mellow tahini and brightened with cheeks of green olive. With that said, you're as likely to find here flavours from China like the mandarin and five spice duck, as you are the more continental gnocchi Parisienne, all butter and flecks of woody truffle with a perfect, round parmesan crisp.
This is the kind of approachable yet still very high-end cooking that the Mountains needs at large. And while the stirrings of that new wave have been building for a while now, Ates has well and truly set the benchmark for cool eating.