In this age of meticulously managed publicity campaigns and social media blitzkriegs, I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to stumble across a place that just opened quietly of its own accord. Especially when it turns out that place is really quite good.
There are at least two dishes I had at Cucinetta that I’ve been reminiscing about since – the just-made curd that came wobbly and lukewarm from the kitchen, and a hot-poached cotechino sausage, heady with spice, on a knoll of barley smeared in salsa verde. Texture-wise, it was like burying your face in a hand-knitted jumper, and just as comforting.
Cucinetta has been winning local fans for just over a month. The tiny corner shopfront on Murphy Street in South Yarra, previously home to the cult Jamon Sushi bar with its $195-a-head omakase (chef’s selection) dinners, is now a snug 26-seater of petite, recycled oak tables so tightly spaced you’re likely to make friends with your neighbours as you both enthuse about the food.
There’s a bar area, which I’m assured will eventually have a zinc top but is, at the time of writing, still draped in a stripey tablecloth. Above it, the blackboard menu lists the day’s dishes – a handful of antipasti, four larger plates and one or two desserts.
The drinks list is similarly minimalist – just five whites, five reds, all of them Italian grapes made here or there. Perfectly adequate, as is the offering of aperitifs, digestives and grappas.
There’s a slight problem with reviewing Cucinetta because the chef changed between my visits. Originally it was John Paul Fiechtner, who, it turns out, spent last year working in Paris at the exalted bistro Le Chateaubriand, No. 18 in the World’s 50 Best Restaurants list. It’s safe to say he can cook.
On the second visit it was Jack Gould, about whom I know little, except that he can cook, too. Perhaps his dishes weren’t quite as thrilling as Fiechtner’s, who was there only to help out with the opening, but they’re good enough to have you coming back for more.
Cucinetta’s cluey young owner Ben Dinning is keeping prices keen while he finds his market. Two courses at dinner cost only $26; dessert is an extra $10-$12, depending on what’s on.
The first bit of food comes in a paper bag: warm bread from the kitchen, usually ciabatta or a focaccia seasoned with rosemary and roasted garlic.
First course might be a single antipasto dish, like the house-made curd with red peppers. Made from fresh milk that afternoon, the curd is so fragile it looks like it might revert to its original state at any minute. Draped with roasted red capsicum strips and some piquillo peppers for bite, it dissolves on the tongue.
On my second visit, Gould crumbled ricotta cheese over halved cherry tomatoes seasoned with virgin olive oil and pungent basil leaves. Simple and delicious.
Dinning might also offer a tasting plate of antipasti so diners can alternate between firm olives and silky pancetta cruda (pork belly bacon) with plump caperberries, and then maybe some pickled beetroot with walnuts.
Second course will likely be a pasta or light main. That terrific cotechino has been on the menu both visits, the second time served peasant style with white beans and tomato.
One of Gould’s specialties is gnocchi – so light and luscious – tossed in the simplest sauce of burnt butter and marjoram, using the herb so sparingly it is an aromatic undertone rather than overwhelming the delicate nuttiness of the darkened butter sauce.
We try the orzotto too – not a miniature pasta as its name suggests but barley, riddled with firm broccolini and softened leeks. Comfort food without the heaviness. Dinning doesn’t want diners rolling out the door.
Desserts are also considerate. They’re usually fruit-based, as in the roasted peaches with vanilla cream and little shards of hazelnut praline, and a banana poached in a coriander seed- and bay-infused syrup, from which Fiechtner had made a remarkable caramel to drench the fruit.
A dollop of creamy, organic yoghurt is the only defence against the double sugar hit of the caramel and “crystallised” chocolate crumbled on top. It’s not the prettiest dish but it pings around the brain’s pleasure centres like a pinball machine.
Regardless of who’s behind the stoves, Dinning’s little kitchen has won me over. I’m also sure there’ll be queues out the front within weeks.
CUCINETTA, 4/3 Murphy Street, South Yarra
Cuisine Italian
Chef Jack Gould
Hip Pocket Easy. $26 for two courses
Open Mon-Fri noon-3pm, Tues-Sat 6pm-10pm; aperitivo afternoons Thurs-Fri
Highlights The curd, the cotechino, the easy-going attitude
Lowlights Limited space
Bookings No
Phone 9942 2607
