It's 2024, and I don't want to be painted like one of your French girls – I want to be fed like one of your Italian nonnas. Enter King & Godfree, who will do just that. Let me introduce you to this nonna – or rather, nonno Carlo.
It was the 1950’s, and not long after arriving from Italy, Carlo began working at Agostino’s grocer on Swanston Street. He had a schtick for speciality goods, and eventually opened grocers across the city. Throughout his life, he sold many, but retained one – King & Godfree, a real Italian institution.
While the store remains in the family, it has certainly evolved over the years. By day, you can still get paper-thin bresaola and Montalbano Gold evoo. Yet, come nightfall, things truly step-up a notch. This Italian grocer turned diner has some of the best Bucatini this side of town, and the Torta di Verdure is equally as good.
Remember – tutto finisce a tarallucci e vino (it all ends with biscuits and wine).
*By biscuit, I mean gelato – Pidapipóis open until 11 pm. You're welcome.
When it comes to cult followings and sheer obsession, there is no one restaurant more deserving. Named after the ultra-milled pasta flour, Tipo 00 has done the rounds of Chinese whispers since its inception. A friend of a friend will confidently declare it the best pasta in town. Every ingredient is considered and intentional; thus, I'm not indulging in your faux-gluten-sensitivities (yes, myself included). You’ve just gotta go with it...
Andreas Papadakis, chef and co-owner, once led the Vue de Monde kitchen. Transitioning from fine-dining to a 'simple done really well' approach may seem paradoxical, but the two aren’t so dissimilar. Both have a profound respect for the purity of ingredients and the mastery of fundamental techniques.
Back to the food—it really is *that good. I still think of the Tagliolini al Nero - the pasta is thin like capellini, and comes lounging in an oil-kissed pit of umami.
There are no reservations, so come early and come hungry.
It began in 1959 with a hand-pumped Faema Urania espresso machine. Pasquale Zampogna dedicated his life to pulling the levers on a serious Italian espresso.
Today, Sila proudly hosts Melbourne's oldest espresso machine, yet, you'll now find Pasquale's son Dominic pulling the shots.
Sila stands as the last of its kind—a small, Italian business that has maintained its integrity for over 60 years.