I mean no disrespect to bogan shoppers when I say that battling one's way through Melbourne's modish, faddish dining / cafe scene can be pretty bloody brutal, akin to a Boxing Day sale crush at Highpoint. Once you've waited 45 minutes for a stool at the bar at Mamasitas, you and your dining companions will talk about your experience (a long wait peppered with inane conversation on a dark and steep staircase at the top end of Collins Street) in the hysterical tones of someone who's been wrestled to the ground by some hairy Maori security guard for accidentally walking out of Myer with a packet of discounted Chrissie cards.
Which is why Stellini bar in Little Collins Street is such a welcome experience. Small, cosy, with a familiar Italian menu of pastas and risottos, this is a terrific place for a quiet but elegant Friday night feed. Unusual when you consider it's my lunch venue of choice for scoffing a panini and talking pop-culture with my adopted brother Torn Karpitz. Somehow I never imagined it could morph into such a good dinner spot.
Muddy Karpitz had the pork sausage linguini and I had the fish of the day, a delicious salmon fillet cooked just right followed by dessert of tiramisu and creme brulee and great coffee. The wine and beer choices are excellent, and the staff friendly and attentive. And there's just enough weird eyewear and Mac stuff on the other patrons to give it the Melbourne White Person tick of approval.
So next time you feel like an uncomplicated, cosy and satisfying night out with a loved one, and don't feel like queueing, check out Stellini's.
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