eightysix

After all the hype - desserts on the cover of glossy food magazines, a chef's hat and crowds of diners expressing passionate views for and against the "brash young newcomer" - expectations are high as you enter this tall, narrow establishment. And so they should be - the prices are up there along with the noise levels and the energy in the room. 

But soon we are settled on our bar stools, peering into the kitchen that is the beating heart of this place, and it is good, really good.

Our waiter asks if we understand how Eightysix works: the menu's on the wall opposite, dishes are all to share, and the chefs can choose for you if you like. He can explain more if we want him to and when we call him back to ask questions he answers in an enthusiastic and informed manner.

The sharing ethos is taken seriously. Every dish is pretty much complete in itself – no need for sides – and they are the right size to share.

Eightysix is not yet two years old, yet on every visit I have worried that its youthful vim might fade - "success auto pilot" taking over. Sure, there have been changes in its short life - co-owner Sean Royle has gone, leaving partner Gus Armstrong in charge.

But there has been no crash and burn. Instead Eightysix seems to have settled into its vibe - the innovation and personality are still there albeit at a slightly less frenetic pace, and the food just keeps getting better.

The Emilia-Romagna classic gnocco fritto ($24) is first: little pieces of fried dough topped with freshly sliced, tender pink prosciutto. This dish relies on skill and freshness, its just-cooked puffs of dough topped with a perfect pile of air-dried ham to make the ultimate bar snack. An indulgent glass of Pommery champagne ($24) is a sinfully good match, and sets us off and running.

The wine list is broad and spans the globe, with some local offerings, but don't expect to find too many cheap and cheerfuls. Get advice from the barman if you're unsure.

The bream ceviche (raw fish "cooked" in lime juice, $27) arrives in a generous bowl, jumping with loads of citrus, a hint of chilli, herbs and batons of crunchy flatbread for scooping. This is a brilliantly balanced dish that you could eat all day.

If you think gnocchi ($28) are nasty, bouncy dumplings that are better thrown than eaten, think again. Light-as-air pillows of tender gnocchi mingle wonderfully with bright, crisp asparagus and the perfect butter sauce. This dish is light, simple, subtle and lovely.

Ghetto beef ($48) is a menu staple and flavour-packed standout. Crusted chunks of rare beef cut into wedges and scattered about a plate are set off by decent dollops of punchy salsa verde, lemon wedges and rocket and parmesan shavings. A Saint Agur blue cheese and witlof salad ($26) doesn't so much accompany mains as present as its own beautifully balanced dish. The terrific, creamy, double-cream cheese is dotted about on little boats of crisp, slightly bitter witlof, with a scattering of julienned apple and just the right amount of dressing. A generous serve, this really should be enough to send us off into the night, but there's dessert.

Banoffee (banana and toffee) pie ($16) is a tart for the starving hedonist, its good biscuit crust filled with excellent dulce de leche filling and thin banana slices. This is a smashing, if not subtle, end to a great meal.

If you want a quiet night out, where your every whim is acted on by hushed dinner servants, go somewhere else. Eightysix has woken us up. The team deliver great food, with attitude and excitement, and long may they continue to do so.