Are we really in a restaurant? That’s my first thought whenever I step foot in Fred’s. The warm, smiling staff dressed head to toe in neutral linen; the equally embracing dining room with its matching attire; the open farmhouse kitchen at the centre of it all, where serene chefs potter between overflowing bowls of seasonal produce atop marble bench-tops – quince, persimmon and pear on this occasion – while flames jump from the open fire behind.

It’s a picture of bucolic bliss, and yet here we are smack bang in the middle of Oxford St, Paddington, on a chilly Wednesday night as the peak hour traffic zooms past. Nothing has changed since the Merivale restaurant opened in 2016, and six years on, the Fred’s-a-verse never fails to transport you. And that’s before the first morsel hits your fork.

The food! We will get to the food, of course, but after years of dining here and pondering the recipe of Fred’s secret sauce, I’ve come to the realisation that it’s well beyond the menu. It’s the attention to detail without the fuss and fanfare. It’s knowing that once you cross that bistro-esque threshold into the hands of effortless yet finely honed hospitality, you can loosen the shoelaces, sit back and soak up just how darn pleasant the whole experience is.

A large part of that magic is Fred’s founding mother, Danielle Alvarez.

The US chef, who brought a Slow Food sensibility from her time at Chez Panisse in San Francisco, and co-head chef Hussein Sarhan made serving a full house look like a breeze; a joy even.

They hand-deliver plates to tables, extolling the pleasures of a juicy in-season scallop, or a freshly picked baby lettuce leaf.

Since Alvarez’s departure in May (her next move remains TBC), Sarhan now helms the kitchen with the same panache, following the Fred’s playbook of extraordinary produce, handled with classic technique, enjoyed with conviviality.

It’s the start of winter and the menu is flush with seafood that has just come into season. Scallops, diced into thick, pearlescent cubes are tossed with candied citrus zest and served in the shell. Sarhan swings by to drop off the glossy mounds of seafood. Excitedly, he shares that he works directly with local producers where possible and whips out his phone to show us a fresh catch of mulloway that a Coffs Harbour fisherman had delivered that morning: “It’s too fresh to fillet right now, so I’ll put it on the menu tomorrow night,” he explains.

Despite the east coast rain, Batemans Bay oysters are petite, sweet and served with perfectly puckering mignonette. Prawn ravioli with tomato butter sounds deceivingly simple, but this is not your weeknight Latina pasta, folks. A textured seafood mousse, delicately toothsome a la steamed dumpling filling, is encased in golden handmade pasta and doused in a slippery pink buttery sauce. Whatever you do, order it. It’s one of those things that makes you go “hmmm”.

Sarhan worked with Aussie expat Skye Gyngell at her London restaurant Spring, and this effortless approach to tossing together seasonal ingredients plays out in a meltingly tender slow-cooked lamb shoulder served with sweet new-season celeriac and sauteed erbette spinach. A caramelised cauliflower gratin with gruyere and slivers of black Manjimup truffle from WA stars as a luxe supporting act.

Come for the food, the hospitality, and that warm fuzzy feeling you take home well after the last bite of quince and apple frangipane tart with Calvados cream is finished.

The magic of Fred’s endures.

Related story: Here’s how to make the negroni from Sydney restaurant Fred’s