These are the best restaurants in Queensland, as reviewed for our annual Restaurant Guide.
Restaurant Labart | Burleigh Heads
The recent switch from set menu to à la carte has paid off at Labart, and dining at this European-style bistro has never felt more relaxed. It’s thanks to owners Alex and Karla Munoz Labart, and head chef Stefano Rosi (ex-Tipo 00), who, one year into his tenure, is shining. Given Rosi’s background, you can expect excellent pasta – like textbook king prawn ravioli in a saffron, tomato and shellfish sauce, say – and unpretentious, flavour-packed dishes, such as toasted brioche topped with earthy mushroom custard and grated parmesan. Across the menu, there’s renewed emphasis on less being more, resulting in clarity and elegance. Hibachi-grilled quail comes with caramelised figs and coffee butter-infused hibiscus sauce, while black mussels show up in escabeche with croûtons. Add a broadly appealing wine list, personable service and new outdoor seating, and you’ve got an experience that’s more accessible and enjoyable than ever. Gold stars all around.
The term “hospitality” gets thrown around a lot, but few deliver it as enthusiastically as Agnes. Case in point: when sommelier Franck Maître presents an iPad to show you the volcanic vineyards of the Canary Islands. It’s a nice touch given the obscurity of the diverse wine list, designed to complement Ben Williamson and Ryan Carlson’s wood-fired fare. The team’s mastery of the flame is evident in a Bangalow pork chop, cooked high above the grill till tender and smoky, paired with an intense mole made from dried guajillo chillies and almonds. Smaller dishes, meanwhile, show more delicate uses of smoke. Baked oysters with XO sauce and ’nduja, while deeply caramelised cheddar custard-filled gougères – shaped like canelés – come topped with sweet golden-raisin jam. After some time in the dark, fast-paced dining room, it’s nice transitioning to the relaxed wine bar downstairs for dessert, perhaps a chocolate namelaka with cardamom ice-cream. On fire, as always.
There’s an immensely attractive sense of space at Blume. It’s not just the small-town location in the aptly named Scenic Rim, or the light-flooded room with its honey-coloured timber floors and pressed metal panelling. It’s also present in owner-chef Jack Stuart’s dégustation menus, where often complex dishes never read as complicated and focus equally on ingredients, technique and flavour. Excellent hibachi-grilled, pepper-spiced quail becomes thrilling with a celeriac rémoulade umami-charged with savoury yeast. Slivers of pale-pink beetroot, its texture attractively chewy from a slow bake in clay, are rendered spectacular thanks to a dynamic accompanying trio of cultured cream, sweet apple-marigold leaves and Avruga caviar. Raw yellowfin tuna, meanwhile, is spiked with a glorious horseradish ponzu sauce, while a chickpea-flour cannolo flavoured with sharp cheddar and celery relish hits the bullseye. Service is attentive and low-key, the Euro-Oz wine list compact and intelligently mustered, the experience completely satisfying.
As far as classic starts go, Essa’s soft, freshly baked sourdough and house-churned Jersey milk butter are an all-time opener. What follows may change slightly depending on the day, but the quest for the flavoursome and fun-filled is a constant. Set menus do simple yet comprehensive work to showcase sustainable southeastern Queensland produce, combining worldly flavours with licks of wood fire. Think flame-seared Westholme beef tartare layered with vibrant garden peas and wasabi or barbecued broccolini on whipped macadamia cream doused with crunchy XO sauce. Tempting add-ons like spanner crab crumpets with finger lime and a zesty, lemony Thai-basil mayo, meanwhile, further the opportunity to savour the kitchen’s reach. Hidden in plain sight just off of sceney James Street, the dark and charismatic dining space is a narrow, tiered slice of unadulterated escapism, drawing you in between its low ceilings and veiled windows. A removed and rewarding dining experience with zero stress, indeed.
There’s a discernible confidence in the air as you descend into this subterranean 24-seater beneath Brisbane’s Metro Arts Theatre. That sense of composure continues with technically astute snacks like saline abalone parfait on pillowy fingers of Japanese milk bread, or a duck dashi that proves an unexpectedly refreshing palate cleanser. Chef-owner Tim Scott’s drive for the best produce – even acquiring vegetable plots on a suburban farm – is the framework for his fresh, ever-changing and exciting take on the omakase format. Larger dishes, such as whip-smart squares of glazed koji rice in galangal and makrut-lime sauce or a hibachi-seared wagyu yakiniku beside flame-kissed baby corn and kombu-infused beurre blanc, cement the restaurant’s tenacity for execution. Affable and assured staff bring it all home in style, happily detailing dishes at length and recommending sake by the glass or bottles from the eclectic wine list. From start to finish, the tempo and delivery are flawless.
Late in 2023, a renovation of both dining room and name (losing the “bistro” modifier) signalled a shift at Gerard’s, Brisbane’s great purveyor of modern Middle Eastern cuisine. The more obvious changes come with the drama of the new room – rammed earth walls; a concrete-topped, statement-making central bar; theatrical, flattering lighting – but the menu has also been tweaked, now more specifically Levantine while still exhibiting deft mod-Oz touches. Staggeringly good barbari bread, blistered from the wood grill and glistening with oil, is served with creamy goat’s curd while thickly sliced raw kingfish is tangled with fermented eggplant and clean, green yoghurt sauce. A Malfouf salad of fermented cabbage, refreshingly spiked with citrus and sorrel, is a perfect match with smoky, juicy lamb collar elevated by a subtly spicy acilli ezme. The smattering of Lebanese and Moroccan labels on the solid, largely Euro-focused wine list also does its part, helping to seal the new direction’s deal.
You’d have to be pretty committed to avoid a good time at Hellenika. Even before the first plates of precision-cooked Greek food land – a deftly grilled and seasoned lamb cutlet accompanied by tzatziki and a lemon cheek, for example, or slivers of raw kingfish vibrant with chilli oil, pops of citrus and shaved bottarga – the venue’s good-looking, friendly bustle is contagious. Being poolside at The Calile Hotel helps, of course; the lush greenery, sparkling water, beach umbrellas and green-and-white colour palette all acting as a perfect backdrop to the lengthy menu of scintillating seafood, slow-cooked meat and superb salads like an heirloom tomato number animated with onion and capers. Classics like dreamy avgolemono, kritharaki tossed with saffron-flavoured crab and airy, cinnamon-scented loukoumades drizzled with honey are all pitch perfect, as is the drinks list highlighting brilliant Greek wines alongside excellent cocktails. Good times guaranteed.
Be on time for your booking at Joy; once that door shuts, class begins. At their intimate 10- seat kitchen counter, owner-chef Sarah Baldwin and beverage boss Oliver Chia serve around seven courses with subtle Japanese influences woven throughout. A signature chawanmushi is topped with layers of crunchy toasted quinoa, corn custard, salmon roe and squeeze of lime, while diced yellowfin tuna with puffed rice crackers is enhanced with the addition of roasted tomato and confit garlic. Opting for matching drinks is wise: Chia’s selections are distinctive and thoughtful. Consider an umeshu from Nara Prefecture, which complements a pistachio cake with cherry-blossom custard thanks to its gentle plum-like sweetness, or a bright South African cinsault that pairs brilliantly with a rosy pink slice of pan-seared lamb rump. Depart with a box of baked amaretti biscuits, a Polaroid memento and a beaming smile. It’s an education in heartfelt hospitality – and the art of spreading joy.
Publicans Jessica Huddart and Ben Johnston own The Falls Farm down the road from Mapleton Public House, so whatever gets picked that morning goes on the menu. In the hands of chef Cameron Matthews, that might mean sweet and brightly coloured carrots, roasted till just tender, topped with a complex combination of caramelised ’nduja and coconut cream. If zucchinis are in season, he’ll hasselback and stuff them with tomato kasundi and accent them with lightly tart labne and umami-rich wakame oil. While some dishes are far from what you’d expect from a regional pub, others – like an elevated take on chicken parmigiana with buttermilk fried chook, prosciutto and buffalo mozzarella – are more familiar. The drinks offering, meanwhile, is just as considered, with local craft beers alongside an Australian-led wine list. It’s just another way the 114-year-old boozer, with its sweeping views over the Sunshine Coast hinterland and character-filled interior, proves it isn’t your ordinary country pub.
Nu Nu could easily rest on its laurels, using its idyllic beachfront location to draw a crowd. Good thing it doesn’t. Here, owner-chef Nick Holloway interweaves Asian flavours with native Australian ingredients in creative ways. Take his coconut-roasted pork rib – fat perfectly rendered and caramelised – topped with punchy green chilli sauce and finger lime. Or kangaroo and pickled cabbage skewers, enhanced with red curry paste and dabs of concentrated coconut cream. There’s no lack of spice on the menu, but it’s always applied with a deft hand. It’s dialled up in a chilli salsa that comes with battered zucchini, yet gentler in coral trout poached in kimchi butter with soft yellow bean eggplants. Much like the cooking, the wine list could lean on crowd-pleasing favourites, but instead it dabbles in lo-fi producers and alternative varieties with enthusiasm. We may be 20 years in, but Nu Nu is showing it’s still as exciting as ever.
Simplicity, the core of Sardinian cooking, is embraced with gusto at glamorously rustic Pilloni. It’s there in the culurgiones – traditional pasta stuffed with a comforting mix of potato, mint and pecorino – and two-bite chickpea flour tarts filled with zucchini alla scapece or red-prawn sashimi. Wood-grilled wagyu beef-tongue skewers teamed with a thrillingly vibrant salsa verde keep it simple, too, while the kitchen’s skill is particularly apparent in aged snapper hung above the kitchen’s hearth, bringing wondrous texture and depth of flavour. The wine list, meanwhile, is a draw unto itself. An exciting collection highlighting the island’s Indigenous varieties at prices that encourage experimentation, it further emphasises the overall sense of hospitality and attention to detail here, from the main dining room with its flickering open kitchen to the tiled, glassed-in terrace and charming, semi-open front bar. Consider a pre- or post-meal cocktail at that marble-topped bar obligatory – and toast to the joy of the simple things.
Ascending Pneuma’s narrow black staircase, traversing the dark hallway and entering the brightly lit, New York-style loft dining space is an experience in itself. The attack on the senses continues with chef Matt Blackwell’s unconventional flavour combinations: textbook rosemary sourdough with cultured honey and miso butter, say, or his play on Spanish boquerones en vinagre, which pairs anchovies with Pedro Ximénez vinegar and a slick of ’nduja and piquillo pepper emulsion. More familiar, but equally delicious? The bite-size aged cheddar and Comté custard tarts filled with malted onion jam. There’s obvious thought paid to texture, too, in a dish of heirloom beetroot and garlic almond cream, hidden beneath a crunchy jumble of fried garlic, toasted grains and black walnuts. It’s distinctive cooking, backed by a wide-ranging drinks offering, spanning from Burgundy to aged Australian shiraz and Japanese sake. Like the Tool song it’s named after, Pneuma embodies edge and progressiveness in all the best ways.
No matter how many courses you choose – three, five or “up to the chef” – you can always count on knowledgeable service, a diverse Gallic-minded wine list and creativity from chef-owner Dan Arnold. To start, a series of snacks: hash-brown-esque pommes boulangère crowned with finely diced kangaroo tartare, say, or coriander-flavoured tapioca crackers with hand-picked mudcrab. Technical? Indeed, and always bolstered by excellent produce and awareness of the season. Later on, duck sausage comes with an earthy pearl barley and pine mushroom risotto, while tender Falls Farm carrots are paired with puffed rice, a soybean emulsion and a cup of airy carrot soup to drive home their sweetness. Three house-baked breads, a cheese trolley and petits fours – including warm cinnamon doughnuts with vanilla custard – ensure the experience in the Scandi-style dining room feels extra special. RDA’s sustained excellence over the years has resulted in high expectations; all credit is due for continually surpassing them.
One might wonder if diners ever catch some sea spray through the picture windows at Rick Shores, especially during high tide. But any curiosity evaporates once the signature bug rolls hit the table. They’re a mandatory order, combining sweet Moreton Bay bug meat, creamy sriracha mayonnaise and buttery brioche to brilliant effect. And pairing them with a crisp Austrian grüner veltliner from the Euro-leaning wine list makes them even better. Newer menu items showcase chef James Brady’s creativity: battered oysters topped with ginger caramel and umeboshi jellyfish, perhaps, or chicken-filled xiao long bao atop creamy laksa sauce. More classic? A yellow curry of Patagonian toothfish with cardamom leaf, or a red curry with Sichuan-style roasted duck breast and lychee, both showing excellent technique. Sure, location may count for a lot here, but it’s always been backed up by substance. Little wonder why the open, airy space is always packed with locals and tourists alike.
Martin Boetz is back in his hometown doing what he does best: cooking Thai food. Long-time fans will be pleased to know that his caramelised pork hock and other signatures have also reappeared at Short Grain, but there’s plenty new to be excited about inside this heritage-listed brick building. Crunchy chicken crackers topped with smoked trout and green mango, for instance, and a fiery dry red curry of Skull Island prawns with salted duck egg and makrut lime. Or a fresh green mango and mint salad atop crisp, salted amberjack. There’s a strong focus on wild-caught seafood, too, in daily specials like a fragrant jungle curry of grouper and bitter pea eggplants. For maximum impact, pair these complex, well-balanced flavours with an aromatic white or light red, both found in abundance. Once again, Boetz has captured the essence of Thai cuisine like only he can – and Brisbane is all the better for it.
