It’s been 2 1/2 years since Robin Wickens swapped sea for tree, moving from Apollo Bay to Dunkeld and stepping into the admittedly big gumboots left by the kitchen door of one Dan Hunter.

For it’s impossible to talk of Dunkeld’s Royal Mail Hotel without drawing reference to, and comparisons with, Brae in Birregurra, where Dan has gone on to create his dream restaurant.

And without getting into a “my kitchen garden’s bigger than yours” digging contest, with more than a hectare to draw upon, along with rearing its own beef and lamb, the level of self-sufficiency now in place at the Royal Mail is cause for both celebration and this visit.

Most noticeably, there’s a sense of fun now about dining here; Robin has settled into his new home, with his team, and there is some truly beautiful, inventive, and delicious food coming out of the quietly precise kitchen.

It’s playful. Without running a spoiler alert, from the house-whipped butter to start (let’s just say your first guess will probably be right) through the petit fours to end, there are lovely surprises dotted throughout the meal, none more so than an “alphabet soup” served as a prequel.

A clear tomato consommé is poured at the table over herb gel letters spelling ROYAL MAIL that then float in the parmesan-licked broth. Not only deeply delicious but delightful; something that was missing last time I ate here.

The focus on the land – and season – sings through with honesty in the cooking. It’s less cerebral, and more enjoyable, than I remember it being before under both chefs. And that’s a great thing. Seemingly simple combinations belie technique tricks, whether a perfect piece of john dory, scored and tanned golden on a whipped cloud of pomme puree served with eucalyptus-smoked cockles with a bushfire intensity, or the brilliant Jerusalem artichoke purree that’s the bed for three cuts of lamb, the earthy tuber tasting of a good summer spent underground, the lamb regal and refined. Last of the season sunflower seeds, and first of the season edamame, add textural bite.

Brains over brawn isn’t just a clever name for a dish; with the creamy burnt-butter fried lamb’s brain served with a delicate pig’s head terrine, it’s a decadent nose-to-neck use of animal. A refreshingly tart apple sauce adds the right amount of balance.

Luxury also comes in the form of slices of abalone, lightly charred and topped with crisp fried duck tongue. Garden herbs – delicate mint, tiny lettuce leaves – along with a burnt honey lemon sauce ties the salad together. Like sweet and sour for a new era, it’s brilliant, original.

Not everything worked. A bridging course between savoury and sweet of tomatoes with mascarpone and rocket was a colourful but jarring mess, and a corn dessert was completely outclassed by that being served by Shaun Quade at South Melbourne’s Lume.

But no faulting service that’s engaging. New sommelier Marcus Radny already has a firm grasp on the extensive cellar, and is quietly enthusiastic about the world-wise offering. It’s still filled with delightful gems to discover and it’s still easy to get lost in Tattslotto-funded reverie.

But given the evermore myopic focus on the garden – if we can’t grow it, you can’t eat it – where even the garnishes for your gin and tonic to start or averna to end are only served if in season (no cucumber for your Hendricks in winter), a wine list that worships at the altar of the Old World feels increasingly off message.

Yes, the southern hemisphere’s largest collection of Burgundy and Bordeaux is impressive, but surely a true celebration of the land should extend to the wine list where Victorian vines take precedence? If nothing else, it would make for a more coherent and engaging narrative as to what the Royal Mail stands for.

Because there’s only so much the floor and kitchen can do; yes the chairs are comfortable, and a refresh of the room 18 months ago turned back the more glaring signs of age, but the dated room lacks a sense of occasion.

It is just not beautiful or opulent enough to be considered one of Australia’s great dining rooms; a sense of function over form taints the overall experience. And for $165 a head (for food only, add another $120 for the wine match) I certainly expect cutlery to be of a higher standard than found in most cafes.

So while the food is as good as I’ve experienced the space needs some love if it wants to be thought of as one of our best regional experiences. After all, competition for the weekend away dining destination is fierce.

Originally published on news.com.au