Sud 2

I have been bought. Worse, I've been bought before. There is, as the Prime Minister recently said of a certain federal backbencher, evidence of a pattern of behaviour. (And for the record, I have never eaten at Iguanas. I wouldn't eat at a restaurant named Iguanas. And I suspect Belinda Neal won't again either.)

So back to that behavioural pattern: it stands to reason I may well be bought again. In the past, a few important charities have benefited to the tune of a few dollars from the dubiously valued auction item of dinner as co-pilots on a bona fide restaurant review.

My foil tonight is a charming wife, and although her name really is "Neal", mine isn't anything as exotic as Della Bosca, even if I do like to think of myself as part-Italian. And to reinforce the myth, we're at Sud 2, a part-Italian restaurant.

That is, it's a Melbourne restaurant owned by an Australian of Vietnamese background with a British head chef.

And we are here at Sud 2, with a delightful, mature foursome of upright citizens, all of whom enjoy golf on the peninsula, which is where this dubiously valued auction item went up for grabs. I'm happy.

The last time this happened, it involved way too much vino for a school night; yes, that's right, binge drinking. But not tonight; this group is clearly about quality rather than quantity.

So why are we here?

Well, Sud 2 is relatively new, even if it is an offshoot of a King Street stayer, Sud 1. But then, at this particular address, there always seems to be a new restaurant. I have almost lost track of the shingles that have hung here in the past 10 years. Almost. The Brasserie, Venetian, Avenue, Soho, Bizzarri Restaurant 2 and now... Sud the Southern, a swish and glam cousin to the small, simple CBD original.

Despite a proliferation of different lights, it's a curiously dim environment by night. Black-lacquered tables are un-dressed, which adds to overall low ambient light of the place. It fronts Toorak Road, so there's plenty of light from outside through the big windows by day. There's a loungey area to the left of the entrance, a long bar running parallel with the street, dining to the right and, up a few steps, still more dining where the restaurant meets the Como centre.

It's handy to the cinema upstairs.

Sud 2 is a stylish, modern sort of place; it hasn't changed all that much, so far as I can tell, from its previous incarnation. Inoffensive, rather than challenging, is the design leitmotif.

Darren Daley is the head chef here, although I gather he divides his loyalties between South Yarra and the city site; that may explain some inconsistencies and a few odd embellishments to the dishes, such as the inexplicable addition of pea shoots as garnishes to several of the savoury courses. Pea shoots make pretty good compost, in my view.

Anyway, Daley's done a few things around Melbourne and has that hard-graft London, technique-aplenty under a nasty French-ish chef thing under his belt. We last wrote about his cooking at Daley at Chimmy's back in 2005 where he was doing what might be called a Modern British sort of tucker to great effect. Rabbit, fish, black pudding, mash, root vegies.

Here, he blends it with an Italian directive to mixed results. And it starts with slices of spongy, herb-crusted ciabatta-style bread that augur poorly for what follows.

At $22, a handful of dusted, fried and underseasoned calamari pieces, on some rocket and radicchio with a pot of "chilli mint dressing" offers strikingly poor value for money. The flavour's unremarkable, the presentation perfunctory.

When did calamari become a luxury foodstuff?

There is a whole lot more interest in zucchini flowers ($18) that have been stuffed with goat's cheese, battered and fried golden and served on a dragoncello sauce, a bread-based emulsified puree flavoured with tarragon. They're crisp, pleasantly tart and creamy within. I'm not certain about a fried parsley garnish, though.

Sud's take on vitello tonnato ($20) sees alternating layers of poached veal medallions with pieces of seared tuna of a similar size. The plate gets a zigzag treatment with the tuna sauce and scattered baby capers. It works well.

A smart white dish plays host to a tepid serving of orecchiette ($16/$24) tossed with cauliflower, garlic, chilli, wafers of fried potato and pecorino. It's an OK dish, served poorly.

The best thing here - as it was last time I ate Daley's food - is the rabbit: a stuffed leg wrapped in pancetta, roasted and served on serious pomme puree with a heavily reduced tomato-based sauce of fresh borlotti. It's full of flavour, the meat well-judged in cooking time, just not quite sure what the potato's claim on the dish is, being a part-Italian restaurant and all, and what those pea sprouts were doing there.

(The same dark and intense borlotti sauce and sprouts turned up with a rather messy dish of grilled ox tongue and eggplant.)

Three scoops of "homemade gelati and sorbets" ($9) arrived without our waiter making any attempt to introduce them: the chocolate was good, another looking like strawberry tasted fine, and the third? No idea. A panna cotta (of course) flavoured with vanilla and a liqueur named Tuacca was heavy but pleasant and the poached quince in a light syrup with it was first class. It was also well-priced: $12.

We tried a few other things among our group: beans with goat's cheese, petit fours. Nothing jumped out as inspired.

What is less ambiguous than the food is the service. In a word, inadequate. On several occasions we found ourselves waving for a waiter; and on several occasions we found our conversation superseded by whatever it was the waiter wished to say.

Price-wise, this is not a cafe.

Sud 2 bears the hallmarks of a restaurant without an owner, or at least a passionate stakeholder, dealing with customers. An unemotional experience for us and, clearly, them too.

Next time I'm bought, I'll do better. This pattern of behaviour has to end.

Score: 19: Unacceptable. 10-11: Just OK, some shortcomings. 12: Fair. 13: Getting there. 14: Recommended. 15: Good. 16: Really good. 17: Truly excellent . 18: Outstanding. 19-20: Approaching perfection, Victoria's best.