In that part of the Adelaide Hills known as Basket Range, the fermentation tank is boiling over with creative thought. You don’t need to be mad about the new wave/old theories wines of this region to appreciate the energy and iconoclasm of winemaker-entrepreneurs such as Anton van Klopper and Taras Ochota at ventures such as Summertown Aristologist and Lost in a Forest, to name but two. There’s plenty going on in the city, too; I’m here while the Festival’s on and there’s a heightened sense of creative juice in the Adelaide pipes. To see what I mean, visit a place like Sunny’s for late-night pizza, or Orana for the nation’s most fully realised indigenous produce.

Which all makes Hardy’s Verandah Restaurant, Adelaide’s newest, seem… reserved. Mannered. Just a little Old School.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s a market for reserve in Adelaide but it has been tested in recent years, with the number of restaurants servicing the top end diminished and the quality, in some cases, questionable. So a new player is notable even if, strictly speaking, Crafers is a little out of town in the Adelaide Hills.

Never mind. You can drive here from central Adelaide in less time than it takes to find a car park in Paddo or Prahran. All of a sudden you are in the magnificent Mount Lofty House, a gorgeous 1852 one-time summer mansion set in wonderful gardens overlooking the Piccadilly Valley. It’s so ridiculously lovely and accessible.

Past a formidable front door, serious money has been spent in recent years on the contemporary club decor and fit-out. A boutique hotel for many years, its latest capital injection culminated in the conversion of several former suites into a multi-space restaurant, part of which would have once been a verandah. Hence the name.

Let’s say up front: the Japanesque, contemporary food here is good and sometimes great; the wine list vast, classic and fairly priced; the service attentive. Fixtures and fittings? Lovely. It’s just that with its suited gentlemen waiters, white tablecloths and asinine easy-listening jazz in the background, it feels like a restaurant run on behalf of off-site investors, which it probably is. Safe, appealing to a wide customer base, with house guests at its core. It’s difficult for such places to show attitude or personality.

What’s on the plate, though, or in the bowl, works. Clever little nibbles, such as dehydrated Wagyu crisp with caviar, or sea urchin wrapped in poached chard leaf, precede the meal proper: kingfish leaves with pickled kohlrabi, and the Japanese condiment yuzu kosho; fronds of charcoal smoked ox tongue dressed with sweet sesame soy and shaved apple ginger (pictured); swimmer crab and cockles in macadamia milk with concentrated grape liquid; cubes of confit ocean trout in burnt butter with fermented blueberry jus and beetroot puree. Finesse is everything, attention to appearance rigorous. However, the first thing that jumps up to say “unequivocally delicious” is dry aged duck served with a dollop of foie gras parfait – like a sauce – and a duck jus melded with apricot marmalade.

I was impressed, too, by the simplicity and power of soured plum sorbet on a vanilla custard cream with candy wafers for crunch and a sour orange powder levied at the table by our waiter via a dry ice mortar-like thing. Petit fours arrive on a little log… a bit last year, but that’s OK.

In hindsight, it all seems carefully considered, rather emotional food delivered in a fairly emotionless environment. Great potential. And it’s quiet: take your in-laws.

This review originally appeared on theaustralian.com.au.