Mocan and Green Grout

An odd thing has happened in the past year which has thrown a bug in the salad of restaurant reviewing – and that is a newfound aversion to alcohol.

We can still appreciate a wine list, admiring the knowledge of what is good and bad on the local scene, abhorring boredom and evidence of corporate infiltration in choices, celebrating efforts to hunt out the small-scale and unclean wines from the bowels of Italy. But we no longer drink the stuff, which doesn't seem very in keeping with the feel at higher-end restaurants where you're eating three courses and expected to be discarding caution in favour of fun and excess.

We did intend to continue drinking wine at restaurants and social events, but once you stop drinking as a matter of course, you lose the taste. Turns out alcohol, like coffee, is an acquired taste that needs to be reinforced with regular drinking to keep it alive. Scary that wine has been such a friend for so many years that I forgot the teenage effort I must have made to develop a taste for it.

But tonight this flaw in the game plan is no flaw at all, because Mocan and Green Grout has no wine list, no booze at all in fact. You can head up to A Baker and buy a bottle of wine at a discount, but you clearly can't buy by the glass this way, so unless you think ahead and bring a bottle from home, you will be drinking water – and if you're joining us on an exploration of the sparkling waters of the world (do they taste different or are we in a dream tinged with desperation?), you will be fascinated to be served a bottle of Apani from the Snowy Mountains ($7.50). Good-looking bottle, clean taste, a slight edge of extra sparkling freshness, or is this mountain minerals? It's a brand aimed at restaurants and possibly overpriced, but we like it.

We're also enjoying Mocan tonight. The place takes bookings now, in two seatings – we take the early slot and are seated at what amounts to little more than a small coffee table, perched on stools, trying with limited success to lean against one of the chunky wooden shelves that are the decorative theme of this place. Like a practice version of Hotel Hotel, perhaps even the inspiration for the bizarre hotel foyer that Bryan Martin likened with such piercing accuracy to a Bunnings timberyard, ✓Mocan and Green Grout is adorned with random planks of demolition timber and over-engineered wooden shelves. The concrete floor is decidedly not polished.

It wouldn't work at home, but it's pretty cool at dinner. The music, too, is well pitched and the feel is just right – casual, cool, a little unusual. The menu is small – just nine dishes, of which you might choose four to share between two people.

They're focussed affairs – one ingredient forming the basis of each dish and vegetables playing a central role. The heirloom carrots are excellent, the yellow, purple and orange carrots still firm, roasted and caramelised, sweet with honey. Alongside are little lumps of licorice root that the kitchen has dried then shattered so they have a faintly charcoal taste, airy and subtle. There are also earthy rounds of thick-sliced beetroot and a load of yoghurt underneath. It's a good dish.

The zucchini dish ($18) is a less coherent collection, intriguing and likable but a little weird, especially in the pile of wild rice, beautifully chewy and textural but tasting strangely of honey. It doesn't strike me as the best combination. The zucchinis, though, are excellent like the carrots, sliced long, cooked delicately, sweet and like themselves. There are also zucchini flowers, a rich broad bean puree with tofu, and little squares of coconut tofu. Odd, interesting, a little difficult to understand.

Steak tartare ($21) is a dish we always order here, the sparkling freshness of the meat giving you confidence about eating it raw and the commitment to local sourcing likewise allaying worries about raw eggs. We love the classic simplicity of Mocan's version of this dish, the pile of mince chopped fine with capers, the egg on top, alongside a little bowl of hot green-chilli sauce and a big pile of salty crisp toasts.

The lamb shoulder ($26) equally hits a high note for us. The lamb with all its excellent slow-cooked texture, has been rolled into a big cylinder and fried crisp and salty on one side. It's served on smoked yoghurt, which is a gorgeous combination, and if you share our annoyance at the excessive use of brash smoke in our restaurants, you will be happy at the subtlety and appropriate use of smoke here. It works. There is crisp, dried earthy kale alongside and burst-fresh pomegranate seeds. Another good dish.

There are two desserts. We grab the chocolate ($16), which is a light kind of soft chocolate mousse, a big serve, with excellent fresh berries alongside – strawberry, blueberry and raspberry, plus young mint leaves, and thank goodness no crumbs. It's a good end to a very good meal. 

Mocan has got things right tonight. We like the intimacy of the set-up with the chefs and wait staff all working at an open bench, with diners opposite them. You can watch the goings on, hear what they're saying to each other and to that extent share in the process of preparing dinner, and that seems to us to add to the sense that your meal has been put together with respect and care.