I’ll admit it, I initially wasn’t having the best of times at Gazette. Not because of the food, service, lighting or décor. Rather, I was getting my hackles up listening to a pack of well-lubricated wolves bragging about the size of their, erm, portfolios to anyone within howling distance. Sure, I can swear more than a salon full of sailors, but there’s a time and place – the dinner table is neither.

Yep, restaurants are full of all walks of life, and it’s hard to blame a venue for rude patrons; unless of course they can’t manage them. But Gazette’s management seemed to take note without fuss, quelling the cacophony of coyotes and focusing on the other guests. Service switched from ‘perfectly fine’ to ‘going the extra mile’ to ensure an excellent experience for everyone. Bad service is the pits. Good service can change your night, and that’s exactly what happened to me at Gazette.

The new casual Italian in the monolithic Print Hall complex on St Georges Terrace is a hard space to manage. While it lives in its own designated area, it’s essentially located in a very large bar. With a full house, it’s madder than a bag of bees, but, surprisingly, the cavernous space drowns out the noise to a happy hum.

Gone is the separating wall and former fine diner, and in its place trots this Italian stallion that suits the venue much better. It’s all communal marble-top counters, six-seater booths and standalone tables. A dark, salubrious atmosphere is coloured by neon lights and patrolled by staff who genuinely care, serving with a casual flare void of the fluff of pomp and ceremony.

In the kitchen, Giles Bailey is dishing up Roman-inspired food big on simplicity and flavour, and all about a shared feast ideal, though you can go solo if you’re not a sharer. It’s food that suits an evening where you want to sink a few vinos, too. Choose from various small bites to start, then follow up with salads, pastas, pizzas and mains, including slabs of meat cooked in the wood-fired Josper oven.

A light crostini is topped with tomato and pepper salsa and two glistening fillets of white anchovy. Then a mound of plump, sweet local Exmouth tiger prawns comes in a moderately spicy ’nduja-based sauce and dollops of salsa verde. Sucking the prawn heads is a complete joy. Ask for a spoon to slurp up a bold shellfish broth enveloping delicate tortellini filled with chunks of West Australian bug. It’s good, but it can do without the tuft of rocket on top. A crisp, refreshing salad of apple, cos, peas and shaved parmesan joins golden crumbed veal cotoletta that shines under a squeeze of lemon.

There’s nothing fancy or clever going on here; just well-executed, no-fuss Italian that tastes even sweeter with a side of spot-on service.