MoVida

From its entrance on a much-photographed Melbourne laneway, the tapas bar that launched a score of imitators is deceptively low on fanfare. A moody, brick-and-bare-tables aesthetic and fast-moving floor staff barely hint at the artistry and fun of Frank Camorra’s take on modern Spanish – but all is revealed when the first tapa arrives, the now-legendary scoop of smoked tomato sorbet coupled with slippery anchovy on a whisper-thin rectangular crouton. Follow that with a bite-sized bacon-and-egg hit of slow-cooked quail egg with a sliver of duck ‘jamon’, or perhaps smoked eel sandwiched between fine brik pastry squares. Share plates might include a dark, deeply flavoured dish of squid-ink rice strewn with tender tentacles, or juicy char-grilled pork lightly dressed with Moorish spices. Finish with a dusky, luscious flan, marry the lot with a jaunty wine list priced for drinking, and you’ll see why the sheer verve of the growing MoVida empire continues to conquer all.

And … Can’t get a booking? Just turn up and try your luck at offshoot MoVida Next Door, on the corner.

THE LOW-DOWN
Vibe Melbourne channels Madrid.
Best bit Wow-factor tapas.
Worst bit Two dinner sittings, 6pm and 8.30pm.