This hatted ‘pure-breed’ wine bar proves good things come in small packages

The snores start before I even finish saying, “There’s a great wine bar in the inner-north I’m going to review.” Fair. “Wine bar” has become a ubiquitous label in the past five years, to the point of being nearly useless.

You’ve got the expensive-fish-in-tins-for-dinner wine bar, the “we want it to feel casual but we’re cooking serious food” variety, and the vaguely Euro place that pours wine and saw a rebrand opportunity.

Fitzroy North’s Public Wine Shop is truly, deeply, unabashedly a wine bar. Co-owner Campbell Burton lives to unearth wines that kick-start conversations about moon cycles, wartime wine, French dogs and tractors. His import business already had a great reputation; then in 2021 he gifted Melbourne a place to drink the organic Margaret River shiraz and young Burgundy he’s loving.

Public’s first chef was Ali Currey-Voumard, a sparkling talent from Tasmania’s Agrarian Kitchen, whose unfussy, French farmhouse-style plates matched Burton’s magnetic all-organic wine list. That was five head chefs ago, and now Jake Mayhew (ex-Etta in Brunswick East) is working the induction hob five days a week to give us more than Portuguese sardines on toast.

Metre for metre, Public has to be the hardest-working wine bar in Melbourne. A bench runs along one wall of the skinny heritage shopfront; at the far end is the kitchen. That might be a generous description – it’s a salamander and a dual cooktop – although Mayhew does have more space upstairs to prep before service.

Somehow, he and another chef dispatch wagyu that eats like soft butter but roars with smoky flavour. It’s happily stranded on a sea of salty-sour nam jim jaew, the Thai dipping sauce. Your job is to save it, piece by piece. A starchy side to balance the sauce’s bold flavours would be welcome (your only option is some Loafer bread or salad leaves) but did I mention this is a mouse-sized kitchen?

Fourteen bar stools fringe a long communal table that’s like the circuit board of the place, pulsing with energy. Wine bottles fill one wall in an arrangement that subscribes to the colour-blocking theory. Locals walk in and browse by hue or grape – magnificent bottle-o to have nearby – and chirpy staff guide diners around the list using wine language that mortals can understand.

You want something minerally? Hello, Sylvain Martinez chenin blanc. And now you want a feather-light onion and cheddar gougere. Chase it with zucchini whose crunch is heightened by a cushion of hazelnut puree.

Thick, fudgy boudin noir – blood sausage, made by Mayhew – rests like a top hat on crisp toast with pear chutney. Bold, sweet, spiced, it’s like a one-bite postcard from Christmas Day.

Your visit could end there and no one would begrudge you the 40 minutes you occupied a stool. But stay for dinner and see the good that can come in small packages. After the wagyu (a special I dearly hope reappears) or maybe an asparagus risotto, poached rhubarb with baked cardamom cheesecake wouldn’t be a bad move. Or Mayhew’s apple pie: a sensory assault of heavily spiced cardamom custard, apples cooked till jammy, and shortcrust pastry that’s big, buttery and baked to a dark crunch. I’m sure the team could find you just the right glass to go with it.

Whether you come for a piece of fish or a piece of cheese, a happy hour-priced bottle or that rare label only Burton can get, Public proves the wine bar endures. File this one under pure breed.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine.

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