Ritz-Carlton’s sky-high Atria restaurant has the hype, glitz and views, but how’s the food?

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In recent years, I’ve occasionally wanted to scream this from the rooftops: Not all fancy restaurants need to rely upon a degustation format.

In the right hands, degustation has the potential to excite diners in exactly the way a chef intended, to tell a complete story. It also can be a useful tool in terms of pacing and economics.

But sometimes? You want all the pomp, all the trappings of fine dining, but you just want a steak and a salad.

This is one of the many gifts of Atria, the restaurant on the 80th floor of the new Ritz-Carlton on Lonsdale Street in the CBD. Because it functions as a hotel restaurant, it needs to be accommodating to guests as well as the public, and as such, it is now one of the fanciest restaurants we have in town that is also totally a la carte.

What do I mean when I say “fancy”? I mean a 24-carat gold wall facing the elevator bank in the lobby. I mean servers wearing gloves to set out the cutlery. I mean $30 to $60 entrees and $200 steaks.

The restaurant’s main design feature is the wall of windows and the stunning twinkling landscape laid out below: the skyscrapers of the CBD and the neighbourhoods to the north.

The best vantage point from which to take in this vista is from a long bar that doubles as a kind of kitchen counter. Larger tables are placed further back in the room, under a long chandelier that looks as though a cluster of glass mushrooms has erupted from a light sabre.

The food is a collaboration between culinary adviser Mark Best and executive chef Michael Greenlaw. This is Best’s first attachment to a single venue since he closed Marque in Sydney in 2016, and Greenlaw comes from a long background in hotel restaurants, most recently at Melbourne’s Westin. (He also spent some time cooking overseas, and at Vue de Monde from 2008 to 2010.)

The best vantage point ... is from a long bar that doubles as a kind of kitchen counter

The menu, we were told by our waiter, is inspired by traditional Indigenous seasons, this currently being the season of the Waring Wombat. I’m assuming they’re referring to the seasonal calendar of the Eastern Kulin Nation, though that wasn’t specified. Nor was it explained in what ways that calendar influenced the food we were eating. I greatly admire the intent here – to give this food a sense of place, a grounding in First Nations tradition – but it comes across as slightly cynical when the context is removed.

On the other hand, I’m heartened by the true sense of place that Best and Greenlaw are conjuring. There are native ingredients, yes; a rich and fragrant wallaby broth ($28) poured over raw slices of tender wallaby meat, topped with a flurry of herbs and flowers, like a modern Australian version of noodleless pho; hand-picked Tasmanian crab ($63) with coral custard, finger lime and makrut leaf.

A Victorian crudo plate ($32) is as simple as it is arresting, the freshest fish sliced and laid out with minimal accoutrements and white soy for dipping. Don’t expect kingfish or salmon; you’re more likely to find duckfish, its opalescent flesh firm and sweet, or pinkish snapper.

There is so much potential in the seafood of our state, and too few chefs are exploring that potential the way it is presented on this one plate.

Seafood is a strong point on the main courses, too, with a cheese ravioli ($39) draped in sea urchin so subtle and creamy it was almost floral, along with mussels and yuzu butter.

Half a rock lobster ($190) is one of the more expensive versions in town, but it does come with plates of reginette pasta, frilly at its edges and swathed in a simple tomato seafood sauce.

And, yes, if you just want a giant steak, you can get one; a dry-aged 1.2kg rib-eye ($210) that is a bloody, hulking glory of a thing.

Something happened during one of my visits to Atria that must be mentioned, as much as I’d like to ignore it or dismiss it as an unfortunate anomaly. We arrived, ordered from our extremely professional server, and then … sat. And sat, as guests at the tables around us moved from snacks to entrees to mains. We sat for more than an hour before any food hit the table – delicious little Jerusalem artichoke cigars ($10 each) – and then sat for another 30 minutes before our entrees arrived.

As I said, this was an anomaly. During other visits, the timing was perfect, and no one around me seemed to have any issues. A ticket got lost; accidents happen. And the staff worked hard to make it up to us, comping our desserts and apologising profusely.

But at a restaurant this expensive, with service this formal, it is astounding that no one noticed that we were sitting for so very long with nothing to eat.

Regardless, I will think of Atria when special occasions arise, or when friends come to town. There’s a dedication to presenting Australian ingredients in a way that’s unfussy and luxurious that is, at its best, thrilling. Add that to the beauty of our fine city stretching out before you, and you get an experience you just couldn’t have anywhere else.