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Each dish carries at least one rescued or repurposed element, and the menu is entirely unembarrassed about it. Egg white garum on the broccoli, spent citrus in the kosho under the octopus, spent coffee beside the passionfruit ice cream and a retired dairy cow with garum butter.

The Great Ocean Road begins at Torquay and ends at Allansford, and most people spend the drive looking at rocks. This list is for the passengers who would rather look at lunch, dinner or afternoon tea.

The service deserves its own paragraph. It was busy enough to excuse a lot and nothing needed excusing. Orders came out in the right sequence and water appeared without a request. The tables on the footpath where we sat were looked after as well as the ones inside, which is not a given on a morning like this.

From Cooloongatta to Cairns, Queensland is seeing a dining boom. The state is longer than most people remember. We drove the whole thing from the Gold Coast tot he Far North and ate accordingly. Like the tourism slogan of years past. Where else but Queensland.

The menu leans classic European with quiet Asian inflections running throughout. They're subtle enough so you might not notice until the third or fourth course, at which point you realise they have been there all along. Premium seafood sits alongside heritage breed proteins, Belgian chocolate desserts nod to Van Camp's origins without tipping into novelty.

The food is where Dempsey's training asserts itself. The menu is compact and changes with the seasons and with what's available locally.

The word prodigy gets used about young chefs so often it's lost most of its force, but Allen is a reasonable candidate for the real version of it.

The Meringandan does not have a chef's bar or a natural wine list or a seasonal tasting menu with a chef's note explaining the provenance of the soil. It has chicken parmigiana. It has bangers and mash.

The six course tasting menu reads like a love letter to a fifty kilometre radius

Lunch moves at its own pace, not slow for effect, just steady. Dishes land clean and exacting, vegetables leading more often than not, treated with the kind of reverence usually reserved for proteins.

The menu reads familiar at first. Dumplings, barbecue, seafood, fried rice, the kind of ordering muscle memory Sydney diners know well, but it doesn’t lean on nostalgia in the way you expect.

It’s got the look of a New York chophouse and the confidence of a footy player in a suit jacket and tie.

A cosy, nostalgic drinking hole that makes you feel like you’ve stumbled into someone’s gloriously curated living room. The sprawling verandah, communal tables, reclaimed jarrah and charcoal grills give it warmth without fuss.

The Little Plate might be bowing out after 13 years, but they’re definitely going out swinging. A splendid visit for a couple of hardened foodies who have very high expectations.

When you set out to create a fine dining version of street food, with a nod to a specific regional cuisine, you ha...e to get it right. From end to end, you are setting yourself up to be judged. Kolkata Cricket Club is a mix of triumphant innings but very poor work in the field from Mischa Tropp.

The space is airy, nay gallery like, but without the cold pretension. It's all natural light, soft timber, and a little sense of hush, the kind that makes your first bite feel like an event. Residence isn’t just a restaurant. It’s a living, breathing chef’s notebook in real time. It’s generous, it’s curious, and it’s got just enough arrogance to know it’s special without needing to shout about it.

The hours run blessedly late so whether you’re ending a big night, starting one or just chasing the soul healing crunch of a perfect Korean dumpling, May Q is your spicy little salvation in the City of Churches.

The man who helped define the city’s dining scene in the 2000s, gave it edge with The Smith, and heat with Lucy Liu has returned after a few quiet years up north, and he’s not here to warm the bench.

Perched beside the ghostly bones of the former Pentridge Prison, The Glass Den is part greenhouse and part minimalist fever dream. There are so many hanging plants it’s unclear whether they’re decorating or plotting something. Either way, they frame what might be the best brunch in the north

Don’t bother arriving with a posse because this place isn’t built for brunch mobs or laptop loiterers, nor is it the haven of the pouty lipped influencer. It’s for those who appreciate the fine art of sitting still with a soft-boiled egg, anchovy-laced toast and something chilled in a stemmed glass.