It has been the case for a while now that everything old is new again. From the ethos of nose-to-tail eating, where nothing of an animal is wasted, to waiters with bushranger beards, old-school is as hot as hell, especially on the restaurant scene.

But even within this context, rarely have I heard of anything as positively old-fashioned as a chef living above the shop.

That, however, is the scenario at Matt Pollock’s Kindred, a 40-seat restaurant that’s such a delightful surprise in so many ways that to visit leaves you feeling quite protective about it. Heart-warming is perhaps a hackneyed phrase to describe a restaurant, but genuinely this one is. What a rare feat indeed.

Pollock worked at the well-loved Italian restaurant A Tavola before buying the dilapidated Irish restaurant Mulligan’s on unlovely Cleveland St and transforming upstairs into his home and the downstairs area into a homespun dining space. Here, he has introduced a modern-Italian menu informed by his years in the A Tavola kitchen and also brought in a sensibility of homespun values that extends to making, from scratch, as much as he can.

Pick up a copy of his menu and on the reverse is a list of all the stuff Pollock makes himself, and it’s long. There are pickles and sourdough crackers, cultured cream and butter, chutney and relish, buttermilk, ricotta and yoghurt, preserved lemons, puff pastry, vincotto and mustard. The chef also grows his own sprouts and micro peas, radish and sunflowers. Effort? 10/10.

The menu itself is a charming mix of classic and contemporary, the sort of list that can offer comfort on a cold night without being boringly retrospective. Start with the chef’s excellent pickles ($8), a rustic mix of carrot, radish and cauliflower, with handmade bread and cultured butter ($3). Excellent.

Octopus with fennel and fermented chilli ($18), then, offers tender tentacles with a warming hint of heat, while roasted carrot triangoli ($15) sees sweet pureed carrot pumped into triangle-shaped ravioli in a classic burnt-butter and hazelnut sauce. Other pasta dishes include a lovely, full-bodied lamb ragout with supple, thin pappardelle ($26) spiked with sweet green olives.

Heartier dishes have a hint of modernity mixed with classic flavour. Fall-apart beef cheeks ($29) arrive with celeriac and brussels sprouts while a chicken maryland ($28) is served with cauliflower and wilted greens. A huge, rustic cos salad ($10) is studded with smoked almonds and dressed in buttermilk.

Like everything else, care has been taken with the wine list, with a thoughtful international selection that includes a lengthy wines-by-the-glass menu that is unusually good for a venue of this size.

If there’s a downside to Kindred, it’s in the peripheries — the room, minimally dressed with wooden furniture, can be draughty on cold nights and the spot itself is best described as emerging.

But that is compensated for by the fact that Pollock can really cook. His is food of flavour, care and value. And mostly it’s a venue that shines with homespun goodness. Spirit? Kindred has it in spades.

This review originally appeared on dailytelegraph.com.au.