On paper there seemed to be a few red flags at Henrys, a new wine bar-come-dining hot spot, not the least of which is the location.

Cronulla, traditionally, has been to culinary greatness what Real Housewives is to high art.

Which is fine … if you’re after a sloppy burrito or some tepid sashimi, but best avoided for anything more than a post-dip snack.

Then there’s that sweeping description that always sends a chill up my spine: “Mediterranean-share-plates”.

In terms of tired cliches it’s up there with “designer burgers” and “dive-bar dude food wrapped in wax paper and served on a wooden board”. Oh look! Drinks in jars! Fried chicken! My rapidly waning sanity!

So no wonder I arrived at Henrys, perched on the corner of Ocean Grove Avenue and Gerrale Street, with a full-blown “I dare you to impress me” scowl on my face.

Well. Didn’t they show me.

An army of waiters — led by manager Julian Damjano, who doubles as the GM of Publica Group which counts this, Goldfish in the Hunter Valley and the Clubhouse in Rosebery in its stable — bombards us with relentless great service.

Pick a table. Pick a cocktail. Peruse the menu. Need a foot rub? Well maybe that last one was a slight exaggeration but not by much.

Damjano and his coterie of colleagues reel through the menu and the wine list and leave us be to contemplate what has the strange makings of a fabulous evening.

To start, an heirloom tomato salad served with a knob of burrata and capers and drizzled with a dressing of olive oil, some citrus and, I don’t know, fairy dust?

The only thing missing is some crusty bread to sop up the heavenly liquid — short of slurping it from the bottom of the bowl.

The next — an emerging menu fixture that I am wholly in favour of — a tin of Ortiz anchovies served simply with some toasted bread. I know it requires nothing more than popping a can but considering these things average $17 at the deli and you can get them here with all the trimmings for $20? An excellent development.

We’re then steered towards an early restaurant signature, the crispy flathead tacos which, mercifully, taste better than they sound.

Lovely lightly battered flathead fillets, juicy and fresh, with a squeeze of chilli aioli and a flourish of iceberg lettuce. I know, I know, it sounds simple but it’s these types of dishes that so often arrive flaccid and unfulfilling. Not here. Mouthfuls of magic.

There’s a scallop dish — three serves with a gelatinous clump of caramelised pork jowl — that’s great too. Then a hulking chunk of wagyu flank steak, sliced thickly and priced heavily at $65, that serves as the main event, topped with a nest of enoki mushrooms wrapped in cooked pancetta and drizzled in truffle butter.

It sounds terrifically ’90s but hey, it beats burgers on wooden boards.

Speaking of which, the only thing served on said board here is the cheese platter — a legitimately good spread of Heidi raclette, an Italian blue and a French chevre that are all ripe and generously portioned.

But the thing I really like about this place (yes, including the lurid green wallpaper!) is the fact the name Henrys is a tip of the hat to a famed Sutherland Shire copper, Henry Tugwell, who once patrolled the strip back in the early 1900s.

This is the new Cronulla, casting off its daggy embarrassing past (those vile riots) but still embracing its roots and growing up.

Henrys (apostrophe deliberately absent) knows what it is and it’s cracker. And I’ve been bloody everywhere.

Originally published on dailytelegraph.com.au