You won’t miss the meat, the cheese, or the dairy. At Paperbark, vegetables are given the spotlight, native ingredients the mic, and it rocks hard. The L-shaped design, with its hard edges and white-on-concrete aesthetic, is a little too airport than the intended farm-to-table chic. But then again, you’re not here for the interiors. You’re here for the mushrooms. Perhaps cooked over paperbark, threaded on eucalyptus twigs and dotted with jewels of finger lime. The skewers are hearty enough alone, but when swiped through a macadamia cream studded with juicy riberries? Dynamite. Abalone mushrooms, on the other hand, come panko-crumbed and fried, and served on wax paper with a mayo made from sunflower seeds. The crisp schnitzels have the personality and salty punch of fish and chips.

Whether you opt for the eight-course kitchen menu, or the three-course option (available Monday, Wednesday and Thursday), squeeze in some bar snacks. If you’re lucky, it could mean an Indonesian-style lemper, toasty sushi rice with a smoked eggplant and Davidson’s plum centre, barbecued till crisp in a banana leaf cummerbund. There’s plenty of meat to the all-Australian, all-natural wine list, too, with refined styles or straight funk, depending which way you lean. And to finish? Macadamia-cream custard with savoury walnut granola comes alive with red and yellow sunset limes. The tart native fruit looks like a cherry tomato, but tastes of pineapple, cumquat and yuzu. Yes, Paperbark is vegan, but that’s not why you’ll remember it.