Turning off Caves Road in Yallingup, you soon hit the dirt. Already there’s a sense that you’re off the beaten track. And, in a restaurant sense, Arimia is just that. Solar-powered, off-grid and raising its own pigs – which feature across the menu and help fight the spread of the Arum lily, a pest in WA. A dam stocked with trout is immediately a talking point, and a market garden supplies much of the restaurant’s fruit and vegetables (gaps are filled by producers like chefs’ favourite Jema McCabe at Burnside Organic).

Warm and knowledgeable, our servers know that they’re selling the ethos as well as what’s on the plate. Sat on the outdoor deck with a view over the garden, we observe the bird life drawn to the kangaroo paws and other native flora. It’s the stuff of pure restaurant idyll.

An opening plate of snacks typifies the meal: finesse in places, a rustic hand in others – there are hits and misses, and a lack of cohesion.

A quail’s egg, farmed on a neighbouring property and served topped with fresh trout roe, is a good start. And you taste the difference a good life makes in the estate pancetta. But, thick cut, we’re left labouring, chewing the fat. Tiny cucamelons pressed in mirin allow a moment for our server to signal the market garden. Tempura-battered ice plant stands out; crisp, with a native sherbet adding sourness.

Menu choice is down to two plates or a tasting menu of four smalls and two larger. It’s with the tasting menu that we find highs and lows; there’s no feeling of a progressive experience.

Wood-smoked, fermented and pickled beetroot, with that native lime sherbet and goat’s curd, makes for a nice idea on the rustic side, but doesn’t quite hit the mark. A sprinkling of fried saltbush should be crisp; instead, it’s chewy. Texturally the dish is off kilter, and there’s the feeling that the kitchen isn’t quite pushing it far enough.

Scallop with a crisp tempura okahijiki (land seaweed) is a different matter. There’s contrast, texture, delicacy and depth with the choice of ingredients: XO and finger lime. It’s perhaps an indication of where chef Evan Hayter’s heart lies, evidenced by his rapturous retelling of a recent Japanese trip. This would go toe to toe with his Margaret River peers, a very accomplished group.

Cured trout with pickled cucumber is a dish I’m immediately keen to try, the trout a key part of the sustainable story. But the morning’s catch isn’t yet cured, and so, we’re told, salmon is the alternative. There’s no indication as to the provenance of the salmon, but that thought is academic, as we’re presented with another substitution: a roasted and smoked carrot dish with apple and pickled cucumber. It’s a winner – both sweet and bitter – for those that go meat free, but another rustic turn on the menu that’s unsettling.

Hayter’s deft hand is shown once more with roasted quail: perfectly light pink, the skin caramelised. Corn and a smoked foam are full of flavour, but don’t upstage the bird.

Into the larger plates and we’re again swinging to rustic comfort. Light gnocchi, pan-fried with Yallingup hard goat’s cheese, followed by a hearty bowl of tagliatelle with a braised pork ragout hug.

Refined to rustic, crossing borders, within the same meal rarely works for me. A lack of rigour in the patchwork menu suggests they’re lost in the narrative of the restaurant as a sustainable outpost, when more cohesion is what’s required.

Hayter and his team are undoubtedly doers in the best possible way; not content to sit back on a vague mission, they’re in tune with the dining zeitgeist. A work in progress, my hope is that they find that rigour. When they do, the meal will match the message, and Arimia is a name you’ll be hearing more of.