You’d assume Tiny’s to be a winner from the outset. A team headed by mercurial hospo figures Paul Aron and Michael Forde; their greatest hits – solo and as a duo – were game changers for Perth. Think:  Greenhouse, Cantina 663, Ace Pizza, El Publico and now the bakery juggernaut, Mary Street Bakery.

All brought more than a new slant to the food scene in Perth, changing the way we think about the capability of the city, standing shoulder to shoulder with our eastern cousins, at a time when the dining scene was still experiencing growing pains.

Add to this mix, another director, Brett Robinson, who for a good number of years steered two of Perth’s best small bars – Mechanics Institute and The  Dominion League – and other hospo guns; and the stage was set for another success.

A first visit back in May wasn’t long after opening. It was positive. A signature dish, the rotisserie chicken with nduja and bread sauce, hit the mark, in the way that only good roast chook does.

Snacks from the custom built wood grill, like the beef intercostal sticks, another massive tick; partly for using a cut that gets forgotten, but mainly for the sheer tastiness that comes with marinating, skewering and grilling meat. The initial saltbush and blood plum mix seems to have given way to rhubarb and five spices.

While that first visit was enough to give Tiny’s a decent thumbs up, there was something a little frantic about the experience. Then we learnt that opening chef Jacob D’Vauz had parted company with the venture the day before that first visit. It seemed fair and accurate to give Tiny’s a little more time.

Back again, on a Friday evening, and trade is brisk. Tiny’s appeal lays in more than just food. In terms of design, the mix of parquetry floor, soft tan tones in the leather barstools and the thin wooden wall panels are a step beyond most fit-outs. Is it possible to have a crush on a pistachio, flecked terrazzo marble bar top? I say yes.

The team work as a tight unit. They chat while they work, having fun, but not at the expense of the customer; a balance so many can’t achieve, but for me an essential element in raising the stakes on the atmosphere. After all, if the staff look pained to be there, why would you want to stick around?

Wine recommendations and patter are on the mark. I’m drawn to anything from Brave New Wine, especially when it’s by the glass. Yoko and Andries Mostert’s output in the Great Southern is formidable; producing maybe 15 wines a vintage, in small batches. So the Ambergris is a get it while you can deal. Having gone in at the “funkier end of the spectrum” with this extended skin contact offering, I’m told, “it’s difficult to come back from that”. But come back we do, and an Express Winemakers, Chenin – also from Great Southern – stands up against the to and fro of flavours on the food side.

Rare beef pastrami, with pickled onions and daikon, is piled high. At $15 it’s great value. A bar snack sized pork schnitzel with a simple bake potato puree and kombu further raises the stakes. Chef Josh Gray, is excelling on small plates. And this is where your gaze should lay. Good wine and cherry picking the menu.

I have a weakness for duck liver parfait. I generally like simplicity and unfussed presentation. The treatment here borders on straying over that line, but it works. An accompanying relish adds a sour strain; pepitas and a seed cracker, texture, there’s a lovely sweet and savoury balance. Thick grilled slices of bread are plentiful; not the stingy ration you’ll often find. It’s very well played.

Sat at the bar, going back over the menu and the wine list, the odd snippet of chat with the bartender, I realise Aron, Forde, and Robinson have pulled it off again. The sum of many small acts done very well, the secret to Tiny’s big success.