When Hartsyard announced they were relaunching with a version 2.0 – with an evolution from big flavoured Americana (yep, that fried chicken) to a more considered culinary expression – they seemed brave and a tad insane. You see, Hartsyard has always had that knack of nailing hospitality, thanks to chef and owner Greg Llewellyn’s generous food to share and co-owner Naomi Hart’s ‘throw an arm over your mate’s shoulder and bring ’em inside’ attitude on the floor.

But if the humble Enmore Road eatery had a drawback, it was its over-generous nature. I can’t recall ever leaving without feeling fuller than a fat lad’s sock. There are generous portions and then there’s Hartsyard’s portions.

Hartsyard 2.0 felt like an entirely different restaurant. Sure, they’ve opened up the space, painted it white and added some soundproofing, greenery and natural light – they even have street-side stools for alfresco dining – but Llewellyn’s food had me altering my perceptions of his culinary nous. Thoughtful, nuanced and delicate without losing any of his ‘big flavour’ forte, and thankfully, without the urge to tap out after just a few dishes or ask the waiter for a doggy bag.

Crisp ‘cheddar puffs’ that taste like posh Cheezels benefit from mustard emulsion and rounds of kohlrabi. Hervey Bay scallops are decorated by grape jewels and rest on a slice of scallop sausage. Blood-warm scampi and prawn tartare is a sweet, creamy caress, underpinned by a punchy prawn oil. Then there’s the revelation of duck crackling. As good as any porcine version, it sits atop pressed duck leg and peach puree. Stunningly satisfying.

For those bemoaning the end of Llewellyn’s fried chicken, just remember that restaurants aren’t a public service. They evolve, and in this instance Hartsyard is an enlightening eating experience that shows Llewellyn from a completely different culinary perspective without losing the soul of his generous culinary expression.