Stefano's

YOU'VE heard of Stefano's, of course. Everyone's heard of Stefano's, the Mildura restaurant that's been on any self-respecting Victorian's restaurant bucket list for 20 years. But have you been to Stefano's? The location makes it the most geographically difficult of the state's gastro-destinations. For the average Melburnian who considers a trip to the other side of the river a chore, Stefano's demands a whole extra level of effort.

I'd recommend flying. Last visit, four years ago, I drove. Sum total: 12 travel hours and two speeding demerit points I'll never see again.

But it's worth the effort. That is to say, it's been inoculated against the curse of variables. It's one thing to travel all that way on a wing and a prayer that the kitchen is having a good night. It's another to clock up the frequent-flyer miles whetting the appetite on the certainty of time well spent.

Over the course of three visits I've developed the view that if Stefano's were to change, the world would have tilted slightly on its axis. Maybe it will, with all this talk of a Mildura casino and Stefano de Pieri's inevitable involvement. Despite any protestations to the contrary, it puts a question mark over his flagship continuing in the same way for another 20 years.

The funny thing about Stefano's is that the first encounter knocks your compass off kilter. The hotel in which it's housed is a behemoth with an adjoining network of loosely related restaurants, cafes and a brewery. It doesn't feel quite right until you start descending the cellar steps to the restaurant. That's when it all falls into place. It's one of the most romantic restaurants in the country - singular, old world, cliche-free.

There's a dining room, all white and calm, but I prefer to sit at one of the narrow, candle-lit tables lining a walkway decorated with all sorts of aged ephemera.

De Pieri wasn't there last time either. I'm not going to castigate the celebrity chef for his non-appearance. Maybe January is his time for holidays. It's so damned hot up north, you couldn't blame him for ditching the gondola on the Murray for the ski chalet in Japan. Or maybe he's off tending to another of his hats - politician, tour-guide leader, cookbook author, being all-round Mr Mildura. Whatever. What matters is that he's left the right people in charge.

Last time, the impression Stefano's left was of the sense of abundance and hospitality, wholly Italian, that his staff brought to the task at hand. It was the only time I've been asked if I want seconds in a restaurant. But that was five courses (at $110). This is eight ($150). A ridiculous, gluttonous surfeit of food, the memory of which makes me wish I could go back and do it all again.

The little starter of scallop with a fried quail egg and cured lardo with a spritzy blush of tomato reduction to get the gastric juices flowing. Thin slices of the full-fat flavoured, house-cured and smoked Wagyu - a second cousin to bresaola - teamed with curls of pickled onion, mayo, capers, red capsicum and cress. Not the stuff you have to think about deeply, quite clearly, but Italian food is at its best when it knocks you over with simplicity.

The deification of Stefano's might give the wrong impression it's one of those ''modern'' Italian dining experiences but it's blessedly free of smoke and mirrors. It doesn't get much more naked than zucchini flowers, ricotta-stuffed and fried, with a brown butter, caper and anchovy dressing and some perfect specimens of tomato and basil adding their sweet lilt. Or a piece of salmon cured in salt and Campari, forming a vessel for an aerated goat's curd dusted with a powder of beetroot and lime. Then the stand-out dish of the night, roasted yabbies with polenta made with dehydrated corn for a rough-textured but sweet result, with a chlorophyllically beautiful stinging nettle sauce. Spot-on cooking that dances on the sweet end of the spectrum.

Pasta? Naturally. Tagliolini with a soulfully earthy mushroom sauce, aged grana and (Spanish) black truffles grated at the table.

The meat course is roasted lamb, which comes via a breed that's smaller and therefore sweeter, the waitress says, and she's right: the rack and backstrap are delectably baby pink and light in flavour, although they would have been tastier if the fat had been rendered from chewy into crisp. Oh well. The bigger lamby taste is found in a gnarly piece of braised, then compressed, shoulder.

Then finally, when the soothing Bach fugues have given way to a bit of trad-jazz, dessert begins to arrive, heralded by an eggshell housing saffron panna cotta topped by yoghurt foam - one of a few restrained pieces of gastro-flummery that gently enhances the sense of occasion without falling into culinary wankery. The finale itself is a textbook creation of figs, almonds and honey ice-cream. Deep in the bunker, a sense of the Mildura terrain.

The wine list is the benchmark document required of the benchmark restaurant; a flexible approach to the selection by the glass gives a good chance to really delve into the more mysterious offerings on the Italian side. And the restaurant overcomes country staff problems by quarantining less-experienced members to running duties.

My only reservation is the utter lack of engagement with dietary requirements. A modern kitchen should do better than ignore a bunch of things flagged at the time of booking to offer the forbidden fruits of cured meats, mayo and more, especially to someone with a notable lack of self-restraint. My obstetrician will be mad. Guilt aside, I couldn't be happier.

Food Italian
Where Quality Hotel Mildura Grand, 135 Langtree Avenue, Mildura
Phone 5023 0511
Cost five courses, $110; eight courses, $150Licensed
Wine list A lovely, comprehensive list with plenty of interest on the Italian side
Owners Stefano di Pieri and Donata Carrazza
Chefs Stefano di Pieri and Jim McDougall
Vegetarian Yes, with prior notice
Dietary Gluten-free catered for with notice
Noise Soothingly low
Wheelchairs Yes
Value Fair
Service Capable
Outdoors No
Web stefano.com.au
Cards AE MC V eftpos
Hours Tues-Sat, 7pm-late