A wonderful pervading bravery has altered our culinary landscape in recent years. I’m not talking about the suspension of disbelief with mind-bending re-constructions – though there’s been some of that – but rather a confidence to truly express oneself. A belief in produce and letting it speak for itself, too. A trust in old world technique expressed in new world ways. And, a bravery to roll the dice outside the city limits – where most of us actually live.

Perhaps it’s just the attitude of the next generation. A nothing-to-lose stance afforded by chefs from restaurants past that pushed the limits themselves within their own context. Multiplying. Layer upon layer. Evolution coming back around to remember why some things will always remain important.

Gone are the days when the city held all the cards to a great night out. Just as some of our regional centres are adding an exclamation with restaurants that could hold their weight in the big smoke, the suburbs of Sydney are waving their hands in the air, too.

Barzaari is a sign of the times. An establishment merging old with new to bring special sustenance to the suburbs – in this instance Marrickville.

Amid the throng of the Mediterranean movement comes a long hard look at the eastern edges, for the most part Cypriot cuisine and its allies, Lebanese, Syrian and Middle Eastern.

Chef Darryl Martin and Andrew Jordanou have joined forces to extend the strong A-game of the inner-west triggered just a few years back by the likes of Bloodwood, Hartsyard, Osteria di Russo & Russo, and, more recently, Stanbuli and Continental.

There’s incredibly familiar touches in the fitout. Think polished concrete floors, exposed brick and air-conditioning ducts and an open kitchen where most things are cooked in a wood fire oven or over a charcoal pit. There’s counter seats, alfresco and even a little private nook for small groups. And yet, for all its chic, industrial polish it’s got a wonderful warming suburban, local feel, too. It’s here chef Martin, who spent time in the kitchens of Quay, Three Weeds Hotel and Fauveaux, raises the stakes in the suburbs, though its not all smooth sailing yet.

The bites and small snacks jump out of the gates well. Coffin Bay Oysters warmed gently arrive with parsley stalk and shaved lountza (cured pork tenderloin). While white and red radishes add balance to vine leaves encasing two cheeses – shanklish and majdouleh. Two beautifully charred Spencer Gulf Prawns wade in a puddle of skordalia (garlic, potato, walnuts), but I could do without the dukkah sprinkled on top. Gorgeously light, buttery and Moorish pita partners balls of lamb and pork mince wrapped in caul fat (sheftalia) and smoked over charcoal.

But sadly, after such a high the mains are a tale of too much and not enough.

The palate confusion of too many elements takes its toll on two quails cooked whole (a tad fiddley to consume in a restaurant) that get their feathers ruffled by toum (garlic paste), smoked eggplant, pomegranate and pickled onion. Then pita again partners pork (slow-cooked neck) charred on the outside and pull apart in the centre. It’s lovely, albeit a tad salty and just needs something wet – a sauce, a puree, anything – to create a perfect circle. With a stellar, accessible array of quaffables from the Med and Aus procured by ex-Café Paci’s Dennis Roman and a dessert hit list worth the visit alone – a light Baklava, a dense warm pistachio cake, or the aniseed buttermilk custard – it’s undoubtedly an important culinary moment in Marrickville’s food history.