It’s not for the fact it swaps The Fat Duck’s whimsy for culinary wit that transforms historical British gastronomy into the food of today. Or that it offers a traditional restaurant experience, right down to the entree-main-dessert choices, and where those popping in for a steak and chips are as welcome as those sitting down to a full Chef’s Table extravaganza. It’s not for the meat fruit — the picture perfect mandarin parfait that surpasses its Insta-hype — or the curried kangaroo swimming in a glorious saffron risotto that’s named Rice and Flesh. Nor is it for a myopic focus on produce and flavour that the small army of chefs transform into dishes the relative simplicity of which belies multilayered complexity. It’s not for the pulley-operated spit on show, where glistening skinned pineapples twirl and tan golden to be served with the baked-to-order tipsy cake. It’s not for the entry via the moody corridor that’s thick with the scent of moss and tobacco, nor the room inside that’s opulent in comfort, never stuffy in style. And it’s not for perfectly polished service that comes with a wink and a smile, or cocktails as inventive as the food, or the huge wine list that’s thoughtfully — and excitingly — created across all price points. It’s that it’s all of these things that makes Dinner by Heston Blumenthal such a flawless delight. Must eat dish: meat fruit

It was after 3.30pm when the 12th (or was it the 13th?) dish landed on our table at Brae: a signature dessert listed as “parsnip and apple’’. That brief description did little to prepare us for a funnel of fried parsnip skin housing a creamy apple-parsnip mousse. Then again, Brae’s gifted owner-chef Dan Hunter is always springing surprises. His country-style dining room in the green hills of Birregurra, 40 minutes west of Geelong, offers a $190 (per person) menu that changes with what’s in season locally and growing in Brae’s own organic fruit and vegetable garden. So each time you pay a visit (a three to four hour commitment), something new and ingenious is sure to come your way. An iced oyster to start, then puffed beef tendon wafers and calamari with fermented celeriac or raw wallaby with lemon myrtle or wood-roasted duck with quandong. Or not. Hunter — who honed his skills in boundary-pushing European restaurants — calls Brae’s degustation a “personal offering’’ and restaurant manager Simon Freeman seamlessly imparts this vision to diners. The front of house team — one of Victoria’s best — can also help you navigate the cellar here (matched wines $125), which goes long and deep on artisan growers. Staying overnight in one of Brae’s six luxury cabins makes for an even richer, rounded experience. If you’re lucky, Hunter himself might appear on your doorstep delivering house-baked croissants. Must eat dish: parsnip and apple

Whether it’s the choice of jamon brioche or pretzel loaf on which to spread the house-whipped butter, a Valrhona chocolate dessert powered by Jerusalem artichoke, or a cheese course of curd-filled pear served with a shot of ginger-pear juice, it’s clear Scott Pickett’s fine-dining arm to the empire isn’t shy of big-hitting flavours. That’s not to say they’re brash; rather there’s elegant refinement throughout the seven course degustation that begins with stunning snacks — an avo-filled potato pillow, cured wallaby delivered under a cloche of smoke, earthy and sweet parsnip and apple — and ends with a sherbet dusted petit four. In between, highlights are many: braised kangaroo in a broth of stunning delicacy; pan-fried golden dory teamed with shaved macadamia; and a showstopping two-part pheasant plate with kohlrabi and pickled mushrooms that’s as clever as it is perfectly executed. The dining room remains one of Melbourne’s sexiest, as moodily dark and handsomely brooding as ever, the palette of charcoal and slate livened with lots of copper in the open kitchen, while service is as sharp as the cooking. ESP keeps getting better. Must eat dish: pheasant, kohlrabi, mushroom

The return of the prodigal chef. The backstreet location. The wine list that champions the natural and the unknown. The lack of menu. The smoking and fermenting, curing and cooking over flames. But Igni is so much more than the sum of its so-hot-right-now parts. It’s driven by a room that’s spacious and supremely comfortable, fuelled by service genuinely warm and humbly unaffected, stoked by the best playlist in the land and completed by cooking that’s a refined, pitch-perfect celebration of produce backed by technique. Whether an opener of fried chicken skin topped with whipped roe — one of a quintet of brilliant bites — or a cheese course of goat’s granita, or a slice of Great Ocean duck that’s elegantly smoked and served with bracing finger limes, a meal at Igni is exciting yet approachable, innovative yet accessibly familiar. The charcoal grill gets an expected but deftly delivered workout, imparting toasty, charry smokiness across five or eight courses to which an alluringly savoury apple and custard proves a fitting finale. Aaron Turner is back. And how. Igni is on fire. Must eat dish: cuttlefish celeriac

With emu feathers and quandong seeds on the table, meat pies and avo on toast on the menu and an international cast of staff, Attica is an evocation of Australia that seems increasingly pitched at visitors to our shores. That’s what a listing in the zeitgeisty World’s 50 Best Restaurants will do — and it’s never been harder to get a booking. But Ben Shewry remains one of our finest chefs. An increasingly innovative champion of native ingredients, his sense of playfulness never overrides his quest for deliciousness. After an opening procession of hand-eaten bites (corn custard and pippies, fresh cheese and honey among the many), highlights include a theatrical multi-elemental pumpkin dish that’s as technically stunning as it is excitingly inventive, and cured kangaroo and bunya nuts with vermouth-steeped kimchi that hat-tips the trends while still forging its own path. There might be emu served in its egg and a whole forest of nuts and seeds (and that meat pie’s a cracker) throughout the three-plus hours that pass with ease. While the room that’s showing subtle signs of age can slightly dim the lustre of the $250-a-head menu, and service can rely too heavily on rote recitation (and, wow, that wine list’s expensive), Attica is a leading light, celebrating Australia — and, rightfully, celebrated — on the world stage. Must eat dish: all of the pumpkin

As you ride the lift 55 floors up to Shannon Bennett’s famed fine diner, your ears will pop, later it’ll be your tastebuds, followed by your wallet. Talking price seems taboo, which can lead to bill shock, but know what you’re in for — 20-odd courses is $275 — and a life-changing experience awaits. Settle into comfy kangaroo-leather seats and suck in that view atop the Rialto Tower as your very own MasterChef episode plays out — “Yes, chef!” — in the open kitchen helmed by head chef Justin James (ex-Eleven Madison Park in New York). Each superb course builds masterfully on the next, from confit leek with blackened chicken skin to the cloudlike double chocolate souffle. In between, there’s fun, theatre and whimsy — perhaps you’ll cook your own marron snags on a mini barbie at your table or watch on as kangaroo steak is charred on a smouldering log. Native ingredients also star. The walk-through wine cellar wows and the list is impeccable — long and pricey, but this is big-occasion stuff and the meal you’ll be dining out on for years to come. Must eat dish: marron snag sizzle

Now he’s sole master of this domain, Shaun Quade’s vision for Lume — the mind-bending South Melbourne fine diner that arrived in a flurry of hipster swagger a year ago — is clearer than ever, the execution of which is evermore refined. You’re still in for a long-haul; a 14-course extravaganza of curing and smoking and artful sleight of hand, where you’re never quite sure of what you’re eating and where shy and retiring are words that are shunned. Whether it’s eel honey to drizzle on artichoke bread, or aged sea urchin teamed with dry-hung steak, or beer ice cream for dessert, Lume presents a procession of big, bold flavours in dishes featuring ingredients you’re unlikely to see elsewhere. Cured camel hump and emu prosciutto and goose ham add eye-opening interest, while the cauliflower “cheese” course, and showstopping cacao pod finale retain their rightful place in the line up. While wine service can tend to upsell and the beard balm and “dirt” cologne in the gents shows a winking brand of hospitality, there’s now real joy to be had here eating things you’ve never seen. Or thought you did, but didn’t. Lume is a journey into the unknown that’s never been boring, but is now also fantastically fun. Must eat dish: cauliflower cheese

Minamishima is where you find Melbourne’s best sushi. Sushi master Koichi Minamishima sources the finest (nigiri) rice and the best fish he can find in Australia and Japan, then fuses them almost magically into compositions of rare beauty. Among his delicacies, on an ascending scale of exquisiteness, you might be offered garfish with ginger and spring onion. Then whiting made pleasingly bitter by a nettle like herb. Then dory with just enough chilli pepper to tingle the lips. Chef Minamishima sets the course for your $150 omakase (set menu), opening with a seasonal entree and closing with a (fishtail) broth and dessert, perhaps a sweetened Japanese omelet. Restaurant manager and sommelier Randolph Cheung has wine to complement and counter your sushi at every turn. Choose sake and you are in for the best time. But this singular establishment — lodged on the ground floor of an apartment block — is greater than the sum of its undeniably beautiful parts. To dine at Minamishima — preferably at the bar where you can eyeball the chefs — is to enter a zone of Zen-like calm, where there is no fuss, minimal music, almost no utensils, just a black napkin and two chopsticks on a pebble. Sushi is the star and just when you think it cannot get any better, it does. Scorched flounder wing and sea urchin in blackened soba noodles could be the two best things you taste this year. Must eat dish: scampi prawn sushi with wasabi

He famously took degustation dining to Clayton’s local bowl-o, but it’s now Armadale’s High St where Clinton McIver has hung out the shingle for his first solo-grown up adventure. And Amaru is just that, where within the stylishly simple, elegant and intimate 30-seater you’ll be served a celebration of Australia across a dozen-odd courses that might begin with a wallaby dumpling, travel across quiveringly fresh, translucent marron served with parmesan-softened sunflower seeds, and end with a showstopping mozzarella ice cream finished with olive oil and olive dust. It’s cooking that’s considered and restrained and outrageously tasty. A focus on indigenous ingredients and low-miles produce never comes across as a tub-thumping mission statement, while a low-waste philosophy informs the menu to excellent effect. Service, from McIver’s partner Ali Rolim Correa, is as gracefully welcoming and patently proud as you’d expect from a first-time owner-operator duo, while the tight cellar shows respect to masters while nodding to the new. This is a vision of Australian dining that’s exciting, enlivening, and — importantly — especially delicious. Must eat dish: mozzarella ice cream with olive oil

All aboard the good ship Calombaris. Actually, make that luxury liner. Leather booths and high-shine embellishments dial up the opulence favoured by Greek shipping magnates at his intimate den of just 38 seats. It’s manned by slick staff keen to open your account with something from the cocktail trolley. Choose from a minimum of four dishes at night: perhaps perfectly cooked John Dory with an intense shiitake ketchup or a yielding mussel swimming in dill-flecked avgolemono. Later, dispense with the box of cutlery at your table to unpeg petit fours — “lamington” slices and marshmallows — from a fun-size Hills hoist. Whether it’s mod-Oz cuisine with Greek overtures or Greek food for Aussie palates matters not a jot. This fine diner has evolved into a well-rounded, accessible package with food that’s plain lick-the-plate tasty. A world-wise though Greek-leaning wine list, fine Zalto stemware, monogrammed linen and a bopping soundtrack from The Beatles to Bon Jovi adds to the appeal. Must eat dish: lamb with parsnip and sheep’s curd