An open kitchen greets us at New Normal. The vibe is upbeat, the clientele well heeled, lighting low; the volume turned up on conversation, from the long shared tables, booths at the back, seats at the pass and little spots for two dotted around. It’s the picture of a restaurant that’s ticking all the right boxes. But good dining isn’t just about a checklist.

We’re directed to the rooftop bar, our table not yet turned. The atmosphere up there is stark in contrast, the bartender facing an almost empty room. We wait and we wait some more. Don’t get me wrong, the terrace is impressive and over summer will be a drawcard many restaurants in Subiaco don’t have; but we’re eager to eat, having heard so much about New Normal.

Finally seated, we scan the walls, the menu and wine lists chalked up on boards around the restaurant. No paper menus, upstairs or down. This is the “new normal”. Part of the recurring pitch I’ve heard from friends, social media and our waiter: the restaurant is all about eliminating waste and following the seasons.

It’s all very worthy and I’m glad that waste is having an overdue moment, and let’s hope it’s longer, but many a decent chef will tell you that eliminating waste isn’t about the planet. It’s about your bottom line, and the survival of your restaurant. Waste equals money in the bin. As for seasonality, it should be the unspoken norm of a good restaurant. But we live in a time when waste and disconnection with primary producers is rife, so if a restaurant wants to amp up the worthiness, who am I to knock it?

Charlie Vargas, head chef and native New Yorker is at the pass, Yankees hat on, orders pitched in, he’s batting them back. Despite time at Balthazar and Fraser’s he’s flown under the radar. Vargas has a handle on ingredients, using nearly 10 years of contacts to source the best. He talks, a few days later, about his search for the perfect scallop – even though I’m not asking, he’s eager to talk – the differences between Shark Bay and Rottnest Island, how they’re packed and presented to him as a chef. With him at the pass, for now, is Chris Malone, a young chef that we’ll be hearing more about in the coming years, if he returns to these shores from a year in New York, at Eleven Madison Park.

Fremantle octopus simmered in white wine, fennel and leek, is everything you’d want from a local hero ingredient. Once cooked, it waits in the sidelines, before hitting the Zesti to order, the open oven holding at upwards of 525c, imparts glorious spots of crisp outer skin, the inside a tender bite. Plated on lines of squid ink, with woodfired fennel, it’s as handsome as it is tasty.

While food is hitting the mark, service is disjointed. There’s no sense of one dedicated server, drinks go astray and dishes are paraded, a server asks is this yours? Tiny carafes of water are poured that run out by the third person of four, the server scrambling to get another. A bigger jug perhaps? The noise levels increase, not least from the Wall Street wannabes on our shared table, separated only by an elaborate flower arrangement. They talk of trades, and indiscreetly about colleagues, of bulls and bears. On a bad day I’d be irritated, but the wine list is great and I’m taking it as dinner theatre; and the prelude of a restaurant finding its feet.

More food hits the table, a tremendous Wagin duck, the skin crisp, the meat pink. Accompanying kohlrabi, apple and Davidson plum, it’s a finely pitched match. I’m softening to the seasonal message on repeat as the plates are delivered. Lamb loin, equally well balanced, is served with no mention of the saltbush; the server off-message perhaps? New Normal has been touted for its veggie offering, which while good, could be better: a cauliflower straight from the oven would have benefited from more time to crisp more of the outside, instead we have spots of black and white.

If this is Perth new normal then I think we’re in good hands. Front of house undoubtedly needs to sharpen up, and perhaps be less about the message, more confident that they’ve got a great space, and importantly a chef that is far from normal.