The Italian

From the mezzanine-level of The Italian, looking south through acres of plate glass, you've got a first-class, bird's-eye view of Rosati across Flinders Lane. There's a nice symmetry to it.

The once-iconic bar-restaurant - set up in late 1986 by Piero Gesualdi and Ronnie di Stasio - almost instantly became the pre-Crash, must-visit, must drink, must eat, must coffee, see and be seen epicentre of buoyant Melbourne.

And it's where The Italian's namesake - Roberto Scheriani - started his career as a waiter.

I don't remember what was opposite Rosati back then, but it wasn't 101 Collins; the corporate Tower of Power didn't see its first tenant until March 1991 and as a young man bussing tables and learning the moves, I doubt Scheriani ever dreamt that one day the most important commercial building in the city would be directly opposite and that he'd have his name on the door of its only - huge - restaurant.

Life's road has taken many of us on an interesting, not always smooth, journey and there have been times - through the rise and fall of Ristorante Roberto and R-Bar - when Scheriani might have wondered if it could ever get this good. Clearly, he never stopped believing it could.

When he set up The Italian in premises off Flinders Lane a few years ago, who knew it would lead to this? A stylish, vast, multi-level diner occupying not only a brilliant, light-filled courtyard, but in a commercially amazing location at the back door of a building whose tenants might fill a business who's who.

This former gallery, where Scheriani reopened The Italian a few months back, is an amazing home for a restaurant. The cream of Melbourne's law firms and investment banks ascend and descend by lift daily, and most go right past Scheriani's front door.

There's a cafe-bar area with an apron that extends into the building's common space; up a few steps, there's a voluminous main dining room, all timber, glass and red leather with soaring ceilings and windows, some smart architectural accessories and a welcoming but inoffensive modern aesthetic.

It feels very much a restaurant of the bustling, commercial hub, a city restaurant that is the antithesis of the hidden laneway gems we so often identify as being the essence of Melbourne. I like it a lot.

And there's that mezzanine level: it doesn't get too much of a work-out by night, but at lunch every available chair has an expensive pair of suit pants on it. Beyond good service, an attractive wine list at fair prices and a degree of discretion when it comes to seating, Scheriani has learned plenty about catering to the corporates during his years in the city. The food is simple but well put together -flash rustic, you might call it - the flavours distinct, the menu presentation accessible, the value-for-money fair. For this he relies on chef Andy Logue, with him for three years (almost). It's Italian, but it's not laid on with a trowel.

And it works. Even if you're not with a major bank. It's honest food and consistent.

Things such as good house-made cotechino ($18.50) poached, sliced and grilled, served on chargrilled sourdough with strips of roasted red pepper, red onion, parsley leaves and olive oil.

Or poached and chargrilled veal tongue, a particularly successful dish served like a vitello tonnato with herby tuna sauce, grilled red chilli and fried basil leaves ($19.50).

Or a terrific combination of trimmed asparagus, sauteed and shredded radicchio and witlof, a poached egg, olive oil and bottarga, its salty finish ($19.50). But I'd question the use here - indeed the rampant use by chefs all over Melbourne - of the so-called white anchovies, the acidic pickled fillets.

Fresh pasta is made in-house daily; these dishes come from a separate section of pasta, risotto and the like in sizes somewhere between an entree and main that undoubtedly make good sense at lunch. I tried a tomato-based spaghettini with blue swimmer crab and chilli ($24.50) at lunch; at dinner, a special with fresh tagliatelle, red mullet and prawn meat, herbs and garlic ($23) is just as pleasant.

Fat, delicious, boned sardines are given a herby crumb and shallow-fried, served on a sweet-sour onion compote with olive oil and a tomato, pine nut and tarragon salsa (plus lemon wedges, $21). It exemplifies Logue's style.

The main courses are relative bargains if you feel you can do without any of the long list of side dishes.

A Ligurian fish stew ($29.50) is a nicely flavoured, terracotta soup nurturing prawns, mussels, pipis, a scampi and chargrilled crostini with a kind of thin aioli-like sauce drizzled on it.

It's difficult not to recommend a semi-boned jumbo quail, stuffed with ricotta and spinach, wrapped in pancetta and roasted alongside some chunky, unpretentious root vegetables ($29.50). It's served with a quite delicious, and subtly tart, pancetta and sage sauce based on chicken stock; sticky, brown and very satisfying.

Desserts occupy that same, unchallenging comfort zone. But they're done with the same consistent style as the rest. A vanilla pannacotta ($16) with morello cherries and lots of dark, semisweet syrup is as good as the species gets.

A whimsically named "plum pudding" ($16) is one of the most enjoyable winter desserts you could hope for: a baked creme anglaise-style eggs-sugar-cream-vanilla mixture with a bit of flour mixed through it and a preserved plum at the centre.

It's soft and rich, and comes with a good serving of vanilla ice-cream.

I found the service at a busy lunch a bit hit and miss, but at dinner, with far fewer customers, difficult to fault. Attentive, respectful, engaging.

The sort of place you go home - or back to the office - from happy. A very well-rounded package.

As was the case with the old Italian, the food won't have you wowed; there is far more creative Italian-inspired food to be found in Melbourne - but it is professional, satisfying and consistent.

It is completely in sync with its context.

Score: 1-9: Unacceptable, don't bother. 10-11: Just OK, some shortcomings. 12: Fair. 13: Getting there. 14: Recommended. 15: Good. 16: Really good. 17: Truly excellent. 18: An outstanding experience. 19-20: Approaching perfection, Victoria's best.