Opened in the shadow of its predecessor Gerald’s, Bar Carnation is startlingly bright

If you look hard enough at the stark white walls of Bar Carnation, you can faintly see what looks like the outlines of the many framed pictures and other ephemera that used to line these walls when it was Gerald’s Bar, just a few months ago. The juxtaposition of a cluttered past and a minimalist present is startling to anyone familiar with the space, and also probably intentional. Bar Carnation is making its own way, as its own entity, despite living in the shadow of two imposing older siblings: Gerald’s Bar, which moved on to larger digs a few blocks away in November, and Carnation Canteen in Fitzroy.

Usually, I wouldn’t refer to a former resident of a building as an older sibling, but the owners of Gerald’s specifically invited Carnation Canteen’s chef and owner Audrey Shaw to take over the space. Also, I’d posit that the original Gerald’s acted as a forebear to most small modern wine-focused restaurants in Melbourne, which is what Carnation Canteen is. The tiny glowing box of a restaurant in a former milk bar in Fitzroy’s back streets, which opened in mid-2024, excels at exactly the type of casual quality that typifies the genre, a place that feels so warmly local it becomes a destination.

Bar Carnation, as the name implies, is like a pared-back version of its older sibling, the menu shorter, more direct. There are no bookings, they’re open every day, and it is decidedly a neighbourhood spot, good for a drink or a casual dinner or something in between. The party that used to exist at Gerald’s still spills onto the street, with a smoking section for drinks only and a non-smoking section where food can be had, and the back room has now been turned into a bottle shop of sorts where you can peruse the fridge for wine to take home.

And some of the cooking is like the superlative version of thrown-together home cooking, like the mozzarella bolognese, which piles very good meat sauce and cheese on a thick slice of toast and reminds me (in the best way) of meals I might once have cobbled together from the fridge as a harried young mum. (These types of meals are always denigrated; both my son and I look back on them with warm nostalgia as a form of motherly ingenuity.)

Occasionally these use-what’s-at-hand dishes go wrong, in the world and at Bar Carnation, as with a cavolo nero sauce cloaking rigatoni that tasted swampy and bitter. But for the most part, Shaw coaxes the best things from her ingredients.

And there’s plenty here that only the most accomplished home cooks might attempt. Fritto misto uses the best seafood available that day, frying it to a light, delicious crispiness. Vitello tonnato is simply a paragon of the form, classic in every way, the veal tender, the sauce tangy and exacting.

I would order the steak frites again simply for the tiny pitcher of sauce diane that comes on the side, which tastes like the best gravy spiked by acid and mustard and pure deliciousness. The frites, too, are a marvel, made entirely in-house, crisp and yielding and fantastic.

And this is one of the better chocolate mousses in town right now, darker, stiffer and more grown-up than many of its contemporaries, and “grown-up” is a very hard phrase to use for chocolate mousse. (May there be room for all kinds of mousse in this town.)

As much as I understand the starkness of the design, marking a clear departure from the clutter of Gerald’s, I’m not sure I’m a huge fan of it in this space. For one, all that ephemera acted as a fantastic noise buffer in the small room, whereas the long mirror that hangs above the bar at an angle and the hard white walls act as amplifiers, bouncing sound back at you, leading to a sometimes-deafening experience even when the place is half full. It can also feel somewhat clinical at night, once daylight is no longer an ingredient. It is only the warmth of the staff and good mood of the customers that soften things.

And indeed, the service here is fantastic in that ineffable, laid-back way that mimics a carefree spirit but is actually underpinned by true professionalism. There’s a ripper wine list that the staff will gladly guide you through, while they gauge exactly what kind of night you want to have, then do their best to facilitate it.

That was always the best thing about the original Gerald’s – the capacity to deliver whatever kind of night you’re looking to have – and in this way, Bar Carnation is a worthy successor. Good drinks plus good people plus good food equals the best times, and that’s what this younger sibling delivers in spades.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.