If you’ve been in the dining wilderness even for the shortest time then the first hint of good grub can result in critical frothing, and conversely, if you’ve seen a pretty heavy rotation of good food, wine and hospitality then something that’s strong may have some of its lustre dimmed. These are the thoughts that go through my head. Balance. Taking account of this, Hobart hybrid Institut Polaire is kicking goals.

The week preceding my visit was rich in Tasmanian food experiences. Shadowing, Brazilian legend Alex Atala from Flinders Island – where crayfish, abalone and a first unforgettable taste of muttonbird we’re the go – to eating venison from the farmers grill at the foot of the Great Western Tiers, to the wonderful Harvest Market in Launceston; eating sea urchin freshly harvested off Bruny Island and an outstanding meal at (stronger than ever) Franklin . Yes, this is both context and brag conjoined, but it’s also the definition of tough competition.

Hobart isn’t short on good eating, the cities dining scene, enough to pull mainlanders across the Bass Strait in droves, but Sunday night in Hobart, that’s a different matter. It’s slim pickings, a list of recommendations grows ever smaller as I check opening times; then a chance meeting with a local mate throws up Institut Polaire.

True to the name – derived from Tasmania’s place as a historic gateway to the Antarctic – there’s a palate of brilliant white, subtle greys and silver; a glass wall between the bar and private dining room. They describe themselves as a “cold climate wine and spirits bar… with a passion for everything coldhearted.” Service is far from cold, a beer turning into two (or was that three), the bartender chipping into conversation now and again.

 I find myself drawn back later in the evening, knowing that the short menu – dishes literally cooked behind the bar – and the allure of the wine list will have me regret it otherwise.

 Institut Polaire, it happens, is also home to Süd Polaire, a small batch gin distillery, and Domaine Simha, an equally small batch wine operation headed by Nav Singh and Louise Radman. The pair, partners in the bar, are hands-on; Radman is the distiller and on the pans, knocking out the simple but tasty bar-centric menu.

 There’s larger plates, like steak frites, but the smaller dishes are it seems, where the action is. A katsu sando, with added crunch from a good crumb on the pork, cabbage and toasted, not plain white, bread, leads into a horseradish kick. Perhaps not as refined a concept as elsewhere but it’s ticking the boxes; the temptation to order a second plate very real.

 Whipped cod roe, the ubiquitous dish of the moment makes an appearance. I’ve eaten it coast to coast in the last eighteen months or so, and also across the UK. Simplicity and salty bliss its not so secret appeal; Polaire’s rendition, topped with roe pearls and a dash of sansho pepper is on form, albeit slightly let down by a flaccid, rubbery flatbread, sans much needed char.

 The stand out dish, again simple, but beautifully balanced, is soft, fresh burrata, plated with a halo of umesha pickled radish, currants and peony capers.

 Sure, most places these days, if you choose well, will have a good wine list but they’ve got that added thought that comes with being in the industry; the food is simple, and possibly needs to be pushed that little bit further, but it has me considering next time; the service, from people who obviously see it as a profession and not a stop gap. Institut Polaire is the sum of its parts.