Sixpenny

Going forward is easy. Going back is never as exciting. The thrill of the new keeps us leaping out of bed - jostling to be the first to go to a film, a festival, or a newly opened restaurant. So what happens to those oh-so-exciting new restaurants two years on? Some reinvent themselves to keep turning heads; others keep evolving, hoping enough people will like what they do, and go back.

Cue a return visit to Sixpenny, two years and three months after it opened in Stanmore. No, it hasn't reinvented itself as Sixpenny Burgers, but it does appear to have evolved into something quietly, calmly exciting.

Owned by two young chefs, James Parry and Daniel Puskas, with partner Chris Sharp, it's both personal (the chefs bring the food to the tables themselves) and impersonal (they're gone before you can say thanks). Former Est head sommelier Dan Sharp and manager Romeo Lee, from Sepia, keep things humming along and engage when they can.

With its central serving station, Nordic-influenced design, wooden chairs and unclothed tables, the dining room remains serenely statement-free. There is a still a choice of six or eight-course tasting menus; and the food still feels just-picked and plated, with a focus on vegetables, many grown in the backyard or on the Parry family farm in Bowral. So what's new? The confidence, the clarity of flavours, and the sense of discovery, of treasures lurking under wilted leaves and beneath shells.

A rat-a-tat-tat barrage of snacky bibs-and-bobs kicks off with a little bowl of crunchy Mexican mouse melons and a tangle of admirable salt and vinegar chips; closely followed by a wodge of lightly pickled yacon (a South American tuber) dusted with rose geranium powder. Next, a puffy gougere filled with cheese and tomato jam, a deep-fried jerusalem artichoke "scallop", a slightly limp furl of charred radicchio with cured egg fluff, and a luminously sweet golden beetroot baked in wattleseed salt crust. Playful stuff.

The room starts quietly whispery, but warms up as people have a glass or two. You can do matching wines for each course (from $75), or let the somm suggest an intense, citrussy Jo Landron muscadet ($14 a glass), a beautifully balanced David Reynaud Crozes Hermitage ($15 a glass), or an elegant pinot noir from Journey Wines in the lighter style of the Yarra Valley ($70).

Mud crab, silky macadamia and camomile carries the same title as two years ago, but is vastly improved, the macadamia milk thickened, and the perfect disc coated with finely shaved macadamia to look like an intricate ivory carving. Another scene-stealer is a dish of teensy baby potatoes, dug up the day before, roasted in fresh mustard.

Lightly steamed Murray cod takes on an almost feral quality with a wildly green stinging nettle sauce and crisped nettle chips (nettle chips - the new kettle chips?). A manicured finger of melting pork jowl takes on the flavours of a pastrami cure, and comes with crackling-crisp skin. A final flurry of sweet treats runs from rice custard with mascarpone ice-cream and lime jelly to super-moist carrot cake and a jar of crisp Anzac biscuits and chocolate chip cookies.

It all takes time - for them to labour over, for us to eat, for me to write up - and could actually be cut to four and six courses without too much angst, and yet, wow. Respect, for quietly going about their business, being true to their produce, and making a degustation dinner so singular and graceful. I'll be back.

Terry Durack is chief restaurant critic for The Sydney Morning Herald and senior reviewer for the Good Food Guide. This rating is based on the Good Food Guide scoring system.

THE LOW-DOWN
Best bit: Chefs deliver food to tables
Worst bit: Men's loo outside.
Go-to dish: Pastrami pork jowl with baby gem lettuce and cider-braised garlic.