151 Macquarie St, Hobart

Fine dining is an experience, not just an outing. A dance between professionals to deliver a theatre show of food, wine and service.

For me, timing feels like the make or break detail in the art of presenting rounds of plates and paired wines. Not rushed and not lengthy, just enough time to relax, unwind and savour the moment. Fico does this effortlessly while still bringing a little individuality and edge.

The space is an explosion of colour, vibrancy, and personality. Mustard, maroon and forest green hues cover the walls with an electric mix of art (many by Tasmanian artist Tom Samek), plants and ornaments. Front of house staff appear in (what I can imagine is accidentally-on-purpose) perfectly tonal shades of the walls surrounding them. Although Macquarie Street is only metres away, Fico couldn’t feel further detached from life outside on this long Sunday lunch.

Executed as described, less fine and more fun dining, the first few courses are smaller snack size pieces arriving on an array of tableware. A morsel of soy glazed kingfish, a two-bite sized piece of arancino (singular arancini) where puffed crispy rice acted as a shell to a gooey cheese filling and a pork belly piadina – an Italian style rye flat bread. A pouring of Made by Monks Gewurztraminer is an eclectic, orangey and welcoming start. After a delicate bowl of scallop gnocchetti, coiled ribbons of saffron pappardelle resemble the grooves of a snail-shell, topped with a diced mussel and horseradish sauce. A snowy white Tongola goat’s curd risotto follows with a blazing dusting of Weston Farm paprika. Teeny tiny legs of quail are crisp and golden, almost scarily small to gnaw on while the final savoury course of hare totellone with a beetroot and lovage dressing was a gamier finish. By now, we had tried a few more whites and reds, including a Bubb + Pooley Pinot Noir because after all, we may be eating Napoli, but we are still in Tasmania.

A well executed set menu shouldn’t give you that busted belt buckle full feeling, and while I was luckily not wearing anything with a buckle, belt, strap or zip, I had two spaces left for a sweet ending. A play on a classic strawberry tart was followed by an airy chocolate mousse encased in a crisp sugar round and topped with quenelle of brown butter gelato. Both adequately filling but balanced. A Pedro Ximenez with an additional espresso helped fight the urge for a Sunday sleep and capped our detailed four-hour lunch.

Attention to detail can be both a blessing and a curse. When handing over the reins this time, it was a beautiful dance to observe. A tango of professionals interweaving delicious, delicately assembled plates with splashes of wine, Fico is a com­plimentary mix of fine whilst being very fun. Fico operates a set menu of eight or so courses, and we opted for the wine pairing. For someone not in a position to make Fico a regular Sunday lunch jaunt, it seemed fitting to make the most of being at their liberty.

www.ficofico.net