Vlado's

It rained the whole afternoon I spent at Vlado's, and I cannot now imagine eating there in any other weather.

The room is exactly what you want it to be: Richmond family room, white tablecloths. We were seated near the back, given menus we hardly needed, and brought a small bowl of olives without being asked.

We started with Caesar salad assembled tableside, which set the tone — generous, unfussy, and confident enough not to crowd what was coming. With it we ordered a quiet Brunello from the back of the list, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: mixed grill, the dish that puts Vlado's on every short list. It was, frankly, the best version of this cut I have had this year. The signature touch — the parade of cuts from a single plate — is not a gimmick; it is the reason to come.

For sides we asked for wild mushrooms in butter and fried okra and a dab of remoulade. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was crème brûlée with a proper glass crust, mostly because the waiter raised an eyebrow when we hesitated. He was right to.

If you are passing through Melbourne, do not pass Vlado's by.