Blancmange

They say, as you get older, you tend to revisit the past more often. I can understand that. Hazy memories of far distant times can sometimes be a better choice than the harsh reality of right here, right now. I'm just not sure I want to revisit my past, restaurant-wise, to a time when chefs were invisible, hidden out the back, when windows were draped in filmy curtains and when menus were written in flowing italic script. It makes me realise I love the nature of the modern restaurant, with its shedding of traditional trappings, its open transparency and its general ''we're all in this together'' attitude.

All of which makes Blancmange an intriguing proposition. Here it sits on a spacious corner site by a park in Petersham, where it has built a faithful following in its six years. It has old-world filmy curtains over plate-glass windows, an eclectic mix of art on the walls, a vintage cabinet full of crockery, tables covered with cloth and paper, and carpet on the floor. There is nothing wrong and everything right with all those things, but, let's face it, Sixpenny it ain't.

And yet hands-on owner Ian Meggitt has recently hired two 24-year-olds - head chef Nathan Brindle, formerly of Lucio's and Sepia, and Jared Reeves, also from Lucio's and Ms G's. Most chefs their age are running out southern-fried pizza sliders, but these two are devotees of fine dining so, for them, it's more about tuna tartare, venison carpaccio, seafood boudin blanc, confit duck leg and braised lamb.

What's impressive is they make a lot of stuff from scratch, such as the sourdough bread and accompanying butter. OK, so the bread's a little steamy and the butter comes overly soft, but ''A'' for effort. Even the black pudding that comes as an appetiser ($4) with a white-bean puree and ''golden raisins'' (the American term for sultanas) is made in-house.

Perpetuating the retro spirit is a seafood boudin blanc ($20), set on a slice of kombu-infused lardo, topped with a bristle of crisp potato crumbs and dotted with splodges of chilli mayonnaise, pickled cucumber and dill. All well and good, but the sausage has been cut in half lengthways and without its structural casing has sort of imploded into creamy mousse.

Another first course of poached veal ($20) has a good, clean, lean flavour, the neat medallions strewn with strips of lightly cooked cuttlefish and toasted rye bread crumbs on a bed of black squid-ink sauce. It's one of your more unusual attempts at surf'n'turf, but it works.

The room warms up as it fills, although the lighting remains in that nether world between light and dark, and the pacing of the meal is measured, bordering on slow.

A dish of white asparagus with Jersey-milk tofu sounds interesting, but the asparagus is Peruvian so, instead, I get all meaty with a special of angus beef cheek and fillet ($42). It's hearty stuff, the medium-rare fillet and the ball of boldly flavoured pressed cheek arranged over a bed of braised eggplant, with plugs of bone marrow lurking in the caponata for extra richness. A swordfish steak ($34) is brined first, grilled, then smeared with a dark sticky bacon jam and topped with a crunchy, fresh apple and fennel salad. It's an interesting juxtaposition, but the bacon jam is a bit much for the fish to handle.

From a well-endowed wine list, complete with a separate Italian section, a savoury, zesty 2010 Punt Road pinot gris from the Yarra Valley is offered by glass, carafe and bottle ($12/$30/$40). It's a typically generous gesture.

''It has taken six years, but we now have a chef serving blancmange,'' Meggitt says as he sets down a sweet little pre-dessert, flavoured with a honey liqueur from Chain of Ponds winery in the Adelaide Hills, alongside honeyed oats and pickled rhubarb. The dessert list showcases some carefully nurtured ideas, such as ''chocolate negroni'' ($16), a layering of chocolate cream, Bombay Sapphire jelly, orange and Campari curd, and an orange and dry vermouth granita in a stemless glass that has enough tongue-in-cheekiness to be fun.

So, I say good luck to you, Blancmange, for sticking to your guns in terms of how you feel the dining experience should be - and you can bet a good proportion of Sydney diners will agree with you.

An intimate neighbourhood restaurant with a caring owner and hard-working chefs who put the wellbeing of their regulars before the latest modish fads will always be in fashion.

The low-down

Best bit Having a hands-on owner on the floor.

Worst bit Dull lighting.

Go-to dish Poached veal, cuttlefish, Russian rye, $20.

Open Dinner, Tues-Sat

Licensed Yes and BYO Tue-Thu, wine only (corkage $5.50 a head)

Cost About $130 for two, plus drinks; three-course menu Tue-Thu $60 a person; five-course menu Fri-Sat $75 a person.

tdurack@smh.com.au