I’ve been waiting for my autumn restaurant. In winter, I want a country pub, muddy boots drying by an open fire, velvety stout and proper gravy reanimating my frozen bones. In spring, find me around the table of a garden kitchen, the pick of the season on my plate, a fizzing champagne firework detonating in my glass. In summer, show me balconies and something pleasant to look at, deftly dressed vegetation, chilled riesling, some fish that’s run afoul of an open fire. Autumn is another matter entirely.
The sun still shines through the falling leaves, but it’s fleeting, and soon enough has become night, cool and still. I want somewhere just outside of the CBD, so that I can manage it on a weeknight, and am not surrounded by concrete. I want somewhere with wine, good wine, that is familiar but informative. I want a warm room, a warmer welcome, and after a summer of barbecues, stir frys and salads, I am ready for pasta. Augie March said There Is No Such Place, but there is.
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Opening in 2017 but now under new stewardship, Park Street Pasta is the sort of beloved local that’s easy to overlook. It’s unflashy, refined, the sort of restaurant that rewards deeper examination. I was pleased to find a buzzing, huddled dining room on a Wednesday evening, the room equal parts local devotees and optimistic first dates. Housed in a stunning corner building, you’re instantly embraced by a warm hello and the gentle crackle of a fireplace. Suddenly, you feel at home, out from the cold and into the embrace of Italianality (™).
To begin, a “welcome plate” of house made focaccia, served simply with whipped ricotta and olive oil. Chewy and sweet, the delight of well made bread is almost supplanted by the shock of a high-end restaurant providing free bread in 2024. Truly a shock, and a most welcome one. It’s in keeping with the warmth and sense of purpose of Park Street; they want to feed you.
Myself and others have written about what I’ve christened “the great Hiramasa kingfish scourge”. The result of savvy sales reps and Benjamin Cooper’s undeniable Chin Chin favourite, we’ve seen raw kingfish dishes become a Melbourne restaurant staple, no matter the cuisine. It remains, despite ubiquity, an uncommonly excellent and versatile fish, and at Park Street our meal begins with a crudo of said fish.
Ours arrives neatly reposing in a velvety parsley cream, accentuated by the surprisingly textural addition of coarse black salt. The show is well and truly stolen by marshmallowy globs of smoked oyster mayonnaise. As noted chilli oil intellectual property baron David Chang once famously said, a BLT is a mayonnaise sandwich, the B, L and T only there to give the star condiment a chance to shine. This dish isn’t quite to that extreme, but this smoked oyster version ties everything together triumphantly.
A carozza of golden fried buffalo mozzarella is next, the sweet smell of panko bringing to mind memories of Bird’s Eye fish fingers long forgotten. But these fish fingers are of a different class. Spread with nduja and decorated with thick slices of chilled octopus, it’s an exercise in texture and temperature. The hot crunch of the fried cheese. The deep dry spice of nduja. The sweet, gelatinous chew of good octopus. It eats a little unevenly, but it’s not far off; thinner octopus slices and an acidic element could bring this fun dish into the elite tier of Melbourne snacks.
We are, however, here for what the sign on the door says, or as the legendary Texas Longhorns coach Darrell K. Royal would say; “dance with who brung ya”. As nice as it is that Park Street offers a market fish and a scotch fillet, we are most definitely here for the pasta.
A plate of Park Street’s ravioli doesn’t so much live “rent free” in my head as it does squat defiantly, refusing to move out no matter what other foods I try to distract myself with. Perfectly symmetrical pockets of pasta are filled with gently smoked ricotta, though the accompanying sauce is anything but gentle. The dish comes decorated with slow fermented and roasted tomatoes, providing an almost pornographic hit of umami, and the requisite texture and lift of caperberry and lemon zest. A stunning plate of food that looks simplistic, but resonates with complexity and care.
Carbonara, so often overrated, is easily tinged with nostalgic favour. Memories of beautifully emulsified, miraculously creamy Roman pastas in a sunny piazza on holiday can easily mask the fact that carbonara, in an unskilled hand, is sloppy and atonal. No such issues here, as Park Street’s rendition riffs on the classic with a sense of modernity and maturity. All of Park Street’s pastas are made fatto e mano, or by hand, and this bucatini shows a particularly skilled hand. A saffron and lemon cream lifts the savoury punch of crispy pancetta even higher, the ingenious addition of bitter braised chicory arriving to bring balance to the richness. Happiness is a cool Melbourne evening, twirling a fork through something like this, in between glugs of Chianti.
A special mention to the wine program, which is engaged and thoughtful, and provided plenty of creative and informative matches for the evening. It’s in keeping with Park Street’s energia, professional, passionate, and just enough cheekiness to keep you entertained.
Park Street Pasta
268 Park St, South Melbourne VIC 3205
(03) 9042 8871
Five More Wonderful Autumn Restaurants
Whether it be a city stroll or a weekend away, Autumn is the perfect time to rug up and soak in the cool and the colourful. The best part of any nature walk is the glass of red by the fireplace afterwards, so here are five more of our preferred Autumn dining destinations.
Du Fermier
You can do no better on a cool Autumn day than throw yourself at the mercy of Annie Smithers’ warmth, generosity and exquisite French farmhouse cuisine. Adding to the sense of relaxation is a set shared menu, highlighting the best of the season. All you need to do is settle in and enjoy the leaves falling through the window.
Provenance
The wide gold rush era streets of Beechworth are where you’ll find Victoria’s most beautiful autumnal trees, a mostly overrated bakery, and one of the best modern kaiseki restaurants outside of Japan. Michael Ryan’s Provenance has all the accolades imaginable, and is the perfect reason to plan a cold weather country escape.
Marquis Of Lorne
Closer to town, few inner suburban Melbourne venues have the cosy warmth of the Marquis, and even fewer offer the sort of rib-lining pub grub I crave in the cooler months. There is a special palace in heaven for pubs that produce properly made gravies.
Bistro Gitan
If chasing autumnal colours southside, you could do worse than a leisurely amble through the botanical gardens, cutting across Toorak road to soak in the long lines of Moreton Bay figs in Fawkner Park, and doubling back for a bite at this classical bistro. The heirs to the Reymond empire do his name justice, serving tremendous French cooking in a comfortable, elegant space.
Leonardo’s Pizza Palace
For those a little younger at heart, an autumn Carlton Gardens stroll is best debriefed at nearby Leonardo’s, where stoner-chic pizzas are dipped in ranch dressing, and the tins are always ice cold. The jalapeno pie is on my personal Melbourne pizza Mount Rushmore, and few venues provide as much pure fun as Leo’s.
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