EAT > Vinesmith, Melbourne (15/20)

Vinesmith is a rare thing in Melbourne’s CBD: a true city cellar door and more than that it actually feels tethered to the vineyards it pours, with a French‑leaning bistro upstairs that looks over Treasury Gardens and feels worlds away from the office towers below. It’s part wine bar, part bottle shop, part dining room, and all of it feels quietly grown‑up in a way that rewards those who linger rather than dash in for a single glass.

AMBIENCE >

At street level, Vinesmith presents as a polished city wine shop and tasting room: walnut and dark timber, an illuminated wall of bottles, and just enough glow from the bar to pull you in off Spring Street’s corner bustle. It reads more Parisian caviste than generic CBD wine store, with neatly stacked European imports sharing shelf space with the Grampians and Pyrenees labels that anchor the group’s portfolio.

Spring Street is home to The European, City Wine Shop and Distasio Cita so there is no question that Vinesmith is in very good company but here at the top of Flinders Lane renowned for outstanding food (Cumulus Inc, Cecconis, No 100, Grill Americano, Chin Chin, Coda, Hazel, Gimlet, Supernormal, Kisume and so many more) Vinesmith is right at the top and offering something entirely different.

From the corner of Spring Street and Flinders Lane, head upstairs and the mood shifts from cellar door to compact salon, a bistro that leans into intimacy rather than spectacle. The room is framed by large windows that take in the green sweep of Treasury Gardens, soft lighting, and a line of tables close enough to feel part of the low‑key hum but spaced just far enough for quiet conspiratorial dinners. There’s a small open view to the kitchen, where the brigade works in a tight galley that gives the whole experience a sense of being in on something almost small theatre, a little more personal than a typical CBD dining room.

Service has the kind of polish you’d expect from a venue linked to serious wine estates, but it never tips into stiffness. The floor team moves confidently between walk‑in tastings, bar snacks and multi‑course dinners upstairs; they know their regions and producers, but the tone stays conversational and generous rather than didactic.

The music tends to jazz and the staff are largely young Frenchmen who are both attentive and invisible, it is comfortable, easy and stylish – nothing over the top but the kind of place you immediately know you will return to soon.

EAT >

In the bistro, executive chef Richard Hayes steers a menu that takes the language of French classics and translates it through Victorian produce, with an eye for precision and a clear respect for technique. The cooking sits in that sweet spot between comfort and refinement: recognisably bistro at heart, but tightened and brightened enough to feel like a modern city restaurant rather than a slavish homage.

You might begin with a millefeuille of ocean trout tartare, layered and folded rather than simply piled, the richness of the fish lifted by saline pops of Yarra Valley caviar and the gentle fat of crème‑fraîche‑leaning dressings. A butterflied langoustine, roasted and glossed with café de Paris butter, is one of those dishes that feels inevitable in a French‑inspired room but here earns its place, the shellfish cooked just to pearly opacity and the butter calibrated so it seasons rather than smothers. Kangaroo tartare takes a more Australienne turn: finely chopped, carefully seasoned, and plated with enough structure to show off Hayes’ old‑school knifework without becoming fussy.

Mains tread a similarly classic‑plus path. Grilled wagyu eye fillet arrives deeply caramelised at the edges and blushing at the core, propped against bone marrow and garlic butter that echo the steak‑frites lineage while keeping things firmly in special‑occasion territory. A braise of lamb shoulder boulangère leans into the slow‑cooked side of the playbook, layers of potato catching and crisping at the edges while the meat collapses into its jus. Throughout, sauces are reduced properly, garnishes feel considered rather than decorative, and the plates, while compact, have the kind of balance that encourages ordering that extra side instead of leaving heavy.

Downstairs, an all‑day menu of sharing plates and lighter dishes keeps things flexible for those dropping in between meetings or before a show. Think cheese and charcuterie anchored by the house imports, bistro‑adjacent snacks calibrated to wine rather than cocktail culture, and smaller plates that echo upstairs without duplicating it, so a quick solo lunch can feel as considered as a three‑course dinner.

DRINK >

Wine is, unsurprisingly, the headline act. Vinesmith pulls together the estates of Blue Pyrenees and Glenlofty with a curated cast of European bottles, giving the list a clear spine without closing it off from the wider world. For anyone curious about the Grampians and Pyrenees, this is effectively a cellar door in miniature: structured tastings, flights and by‑the‑glass options that let you trace varieties, sites and vintages without leaving the city.

The broader list reads as a conversation between Victoria and France, with Burgundy and the Rhône rubbing shoulders with cooler‑climate Victorian pinot and shiraz, plus sparkling from both hemispheres. Pricing is calibrated to encourage exploration rather than intimidation, with accessible pours upfront and more serious bottles for those inclined to make a night of it. Staff are adept at steering guests towards discoveries—whether that’s a Pyrenees cabernet with a bit of bottle age, or a left‑of‑centre Loire white that sings with the seafood upstairs.

There’s a tight list of cocktails, but they feel like supporting characters rather than the main show: aperitif‑driven, low‑intervention and very much structured around pre‑dinner or late‑night bookends. Non‑drinkers aren’t forgotten either, with a considered handful of low‑ and no‑alcohol options that read as part of the same conversation rather than an afterthought.

CONCLUSION >

Vinesmith wears its city‑cellar‑door brief lightly: it’s serious about wine and food, yes, but the experience is more about pleasure than pedagogy. Between the warmly modern ground‑floor bar, the intimate upstairs bistro and a wine program that joins the dots between regional estates and European benchmarks, it feels like the kind of place Melbourne has been quietly waiting for at this end of town.

Come for a quick tasting and a plate or two, stay for a full French‑leaning dinner that shows just how far a compact kitchen with serious intent can go. For anyone who loves the ritual of a properly poured glass and the quiet theatre of a small, well‑run dining room, Vinesmith earns its place on the city’s must‑book list.

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Image Credit | ALMANAK & Vinesmith

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