Vlado's

A friend who knows Melbourne better than I do put Vlado's at the top of a list of three. He was right, as he often is.

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 glass of port to finish, and then another, and were glad of both.

Then the main event: mixed grill, the dish that puts Vlado's on every short list. The seasoning was simple — salt, pepper, restraint — and it was the right call. 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 buttered haricots verts and skin-on fries, twice-fried. Both arrived hot, both arrived early, both were exactly large enough to overdo it. We overdid it.

Dessert was tiramisu, just barely too much, 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.