We love seafood, but for a country ‘girt by sea’, we don’t eat a lot of it at home. Rather, we rely on the skills of top chefs to handle the slimy, scaly side of things, then to cook the catch with a delicate touch.

However, great seafood restaurants (apart from a handful) have been thin on the ground, until 2016 reeled in a bounty of deep-blue dedicators. Cirrus, from ‘Bentley boys’ Brent Savage and Nick Hildebrandt, is one of the best. This fourth establishment in the group (after Bentley Restaurant + Bar, Monopole and Yellow) is perhaps their finest.

Housed at the base of the cloud-shaped Anadara Building, Cirrus casts its line from the same site where Noma rocked Sydney’s culinary world. Again they’ve teamed up with Pascale Gomes-McNabb, who has a wonderful knack of making sharp contemporary feel comfortable. A sea of sculptured rods hangs from the ceiling, along with a vintage speedboat named Alvin. Beneath are polished concrete floors, banquettes and a combination of timber and marble tables that are drenched in sunlight by day, dark and sultry at night.

As one might expect, Hildebrandt’s wine menu is adventurous, accessible and bloody delicious. Your best bet is to let him guide you through it.

I’ve always been a fan of chef Savage’s ability to push boundaries. Technically there are few better, but I’ve always felt his style, particularly early on, would have benefited from a bit of restraint. He’s matured, and at Cirrus, it’s showing on the plate.

There’s a wonderful wobbly-like-a-pannacotta moment when the smoked ocean trout parfait lands. Atop the parfait sits a thin layer of jelly made from salmon bones, and it’s dotted with roe and pickled onions.

Leatherjacket cheeks, a rare treat, are pleasingly firm and brilliantly balanced with cucumber, yuzukosho (Japanese citrus-chilli paste) and buttermilk.

Four thin fillets of flounder are lovely and don’t need the accompanying pickled mushroom and oyster cream – as nice as they are. Gorgeous Moreton Bay bugs get a big kick from house-made XO, while one of our most versatile, richly flavoured fish, bass groper, arrives coal-roasted, wrapped in paperbark and wading in a light broth.

It’s all beautifully cooked and brimming with flavour, but as lovely as those flavours are, sometimes they hide the subtle, true character of the fish. Maybe it’s just me, but a fish left to stand on its own is the most magical culinary experience one can have.

Anyway, a finale of almond meringue, passionfruit and magnolia ice cream takes the dessert cake. There are a few meat dishes for those who can’t break the carnivore curse, but the real show is the wonderful celebration of Australian sustainable seafood that is sure to leave an indelible mark on our culinary history.