Let me break down exactly why I’ve selected my top ten restaurants as I did, because there was a story behind every single one.
#10 Raja – Spicy tuna tartare, with lemon jam on betel leaf.
Strolling from my hotel in Potts Point, Sydney, I was on a mission to a wine bar around the corner, which boasted high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and a glass of red I was eager to try. Along the way, the scent of spice caught my attention, and the low glow and hum of a tucked-away restaurant quietly pulled me off course.
Of course, I followed it.
Raja became an unexpected stop – one of those meals that feels entirely unplanned, but deeply rewarding. Low tables and warm lighting set the tone, the aromas unmistakably Indian, the service relaxed and welcoming. My style leans towards small plates, so discovering a menu that encouraged exactly that felt instinctive. While every dish had something to say, one plate stood out: a spicy tuna tartare that felt both familiar and surprising. The lemon jam and delicate dressing carried the spice beautifully, while the betel leaf added a subtle bitterness and lift. It was a thoughtful fusion – confident, restrained, and quietly inventive – and a reminder of how exciting Australian dining can be when it borrows respectfully and executes well.
#9 A Mano – Beef tartare, garlic aioli, fingerling chips, Parmigiano Reggiano
When a menu offers little more than a choice between this or that chefs’ selection banquet, it’s usually a good sign. Wandering the streets of Philadelphia as evening settled in, phone in hand and scanning nearby options, A Mano stood out – just opening for the evening as the sun began to set. Outside, a cluster of outward-facing tables caught the last of the light, and I didn’t hesitate.
A Mano didn’t do frills – they did classics, done properly. The standout was the beef tartare: clean, fresh, perfectly seasoned, topped with crisp fingerling chips and finished with a generous amount of Parmigiano Reggiano. The textures were right, the tang precise, the confidence unmistakable. A reminder that when the fundamentals are right, simplicity becomes a strength.
#8 Glenelg Public House – rib eye, medium rare, blue cheese sauce
Glenelg Public House is the kind of place that earns loyalty through consistency. A moody, rustic steakhouse, it feels just as right for a solo visit as it does for a girls’ night. Candlelight, worn wooden tables, and the hum of the open kitchen set the scene for a meal that invites you to slow down. Steak is very much their thing, so ordering the rib eye felt instinctive – cooked medium rare and finished with a rich blue cheese sauce, it delivered tenderness, depth of flavour, and quiet confidence. I’ve ordered it more than once, and I’d do so again without hesitation.
This is a dish that makes you pause. It reminds you that a well-executed steak, eaten out, is worth the trip – something that can’t quite be replicated at home. It earns its place on this list for delivering across the board: atmosphere, quality cuts, and excellent service.
#7 Etsu Izakaya – Tuna tataki, crispy garlic, ponzu sauce
Etsu Izakaya was a solo, treat-yourself dinner – my first visit, and one that immediately set the tone. Tucked away – a not-so-hidden gem – the space is moody and immersive, with bar seating, an open kitchen and hibachi grill, Japanese iconography layered with playful comic-style artwork across the walls. It’s the kind of place where sitting alone feels intentional rather than incidental, inviting you to focus entirely on what’s in front of you.
The tuna tataki was ordered immediately, and it delivered exactly what it promised. Fresh, clean slices of tuna, paired with crisp, lightly sweet garlic and a bright, zesty ponzu. Every element was perfectly calibrated – nothing overpowering, nothing unnecessary. It’s a dish that rewards attention, encouraging you to slow down and consider how each flavour works in quiet harmony with the next.
#6 Siblings@Kirra – Yellowfin tuna tartare, firecracker mayo, avocado, blue corn tostada
Siblings captures the Gold Coast at its best – relaxed yet polished, coastal without trying too hard. Set right on the beachfront, it’s open, breezy, and effortlessly cool, with a menu that leans confidently into seafood and flavour. What was meant to be a solo visit turned into lunch with my mum, and on another occasion, a lively family gathering – proof that it’s the kind of place that works just as beautifully for quiet moments as it does for shared ones.
Any kind of tartare always gets my attention, and this one was ordered without hesitation. The yellowfin tuna was fresh and clean, the firecracker mayo bringing just enough heat to keep things interesting, while the avocado underneath added the creaminess needed to ground the dish and anchor it to the crisp blue corn tostada. Light yet indulgent, fresh but layered, it felt quintessentially Gold Coast – a plate that blends coastal produce with subtle Asian and South American influences, appreciating multiple cuisines without overpowering any of them. It’s the sort of dish that encourages you to linger, savour the view, and remember just how good simple, thoughtful food can be.
#5 Nikkei – Yellowtail Hamachi, Fermented Chilli, Black Garlic, Confit Yolk
Nikkei was a solo dinner in Cape Town, taken on a visit back to my home country and chosen on the recommendation of a family friend – the kind you trust implicitly (like me!). Moody and refined, the space blends Japanese–Peruvian influence with a hint of Art Deco glamour. I was seated on the balcony overlooking the main dining room, close enough to feel the energy without being consumed by it. Even before the first course, the intention was clear: an hors d’oeuvre designed to resemble an oyster, shell and all, presented on a real bonsai tree – theatrical? Yes, but thoughtful rather than gimmicky.
The yellowtail Hamachi followed that same philosophy. Familiar in structure, reminiscent of a classic beef tartare, but reimagined through a Japanese lens that favours seafood over red meat. The fermented chilli cut cleanly through the richness of the fish, while the black garlic added depth and the confit yolk surprised me entirely. Smooth, creamy, and effortless to eat, it rounded out the dish in a way that felt indulgent rather than heavy. This plate earned its place not just for its technical finesse, but for what it represented: a masterful blending of cultures, and a quiet reminder that the most memorable meals are often the ones that challenge you – and win you over anyway.
#4 Brooklyn Wine & Tapas – snapper ceviche, mango and avocado gel, sesame rice paper cracker
Brooklyn Wine & Tapas is one of those places you almost hesitate to talk about – tucked quietly into the suburbs, understated to the point of being overlooked, yet deeply deserving of attention. Sitting just across the road from where I work, it’s become a regular in my rotation: after-work drinks, lingering dinners with friends, and many a special occasion celebrated. Dark, art deco leaning and warmly theatrical, it feels like a true neighbourhood wine bar – the kind where fine dining sensibility meets familiarity, and the owner knows your name.
The snapper ceviche is a constant on the menu, though never static – seasonal variations keep it feeling fresh without losing its identity. Served as a single, considered bite, it balances sweetness, acidity and texture with quiet precision. The fish is pristine, the mango and avocado gel smooth and restrained, anchored by the crisp sesame rice paper cracker. It’s a dish that hits every note without overplaying any of them, executed with care and confidence. This plate earns its place for what it represents as much as how it tastes: a reminder that some of the most rewarding dining experiences happen close to home, in places that prioritise craft, consistency, and connection over spectacle.
#3 Stillwater Restaurant – half shell scallops, paprika butter
Stillwater was a solo stop on an escape to Launceston – the kind of trip designed for slowing down properly. Set in a historic location overlooking the mouth of the Cataract Gorge, the restaurant carries a sense of occasion without feeling formal. Past accolades hint at its reputation, but what stays with you is the atmosphere: intimate, rustic, and quietly confident. I was seated toward the back of the room, the dining room calm enough to people-watch, to sit with the moment, to let the setting do some of the talking.
The half shell scallops arrived as a starter, and they were everything I look for in a dish like this. Soft, melt-in-your-mouth, freshly caught and treated with restraint, finished simply with a rich paprika butter that enhanced rather than overshadowed the seafood. It was unmistakably fine dining, but rooted in something more honest – a sense of place, seasonality, and respect for produce. This dish earns its place not just for how good it was, but for what it represented: a moment of stillness, a reminder of why destination dining matters, and how simplicity, when paired with provenance and setting, can feel quietly profound.
#2 Southside – Burrata, chilli caramel, fried mantou bread
Southside was a solo, pre-theatre indulgence, tucked beneath the train tracks on Fish Lane, Brisbane’s most effortlessly chic dining strip. The space hums with energy: red brick walls, tropical vines, a buzz that signals you’re somewhere people want to be. It was my first visit, and from the moment I sat down, it felt like the kind of place that balances trendiness with intent – lively without tipping into chaos.
I’ll rarely pass up burrata, especially when a sweet and salty combination is involved, but this dish caught me completely off guard. The first bite drew an audible reaction. Pillowy fried mantou bread, just sweet enough, crisp on the outside and soft within, paired with rich burrata cream and a chilli caramel that hit the perfect balance of heat and sweetness. Every element worked in harmony, and the textural contrast made it impossible to rush. I found myself torn between devouring it and savouring it. This plate earned its place for redefining what modern Asian fusion can be – precise, inventive, and anything but repetitive – proving that when trend meets technique, the result can be genuinely unforgettable.
#1 Rick Shores – Slow cooked beef cheek Penang curry
Rick Shores was always going to be a moment. Widely regarded as the Gold Coast’s defining restaurant, it felt right to save it for an occasion worthy of the setting – a belated birthday celebration and an engagement toast with my best friend. Set right on the sand at Burleigh Heads, the restaurant balances buzz with intimacy in a way few places manage to pull off. There’s glamour, yes – but when you’re seated at the bench, looking straight out over the ocean, it all fades into the background. What’s left is the view, the company, and the quiet sense that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
The Penang curry was ordered instinctively. Fresh from a trip to Thailand, it called to us immediately – and it more than delivered. The slow-cooked beef cheek was extraordinary: impossibly soft, with a deeply caramelised exterior that added texture and a subtle bitterness to the dish. The curry itself was rich and layered, fragrant and spicy enough to remind you that you were eating a curry, but never overpowering the quality of the ingredients. The meat was undeniably the hero, elevated rather than masked by the sauce. It tasted like Thailand – like everything we loved about it – familiar yet refined, indulgent yet precise.
What made this meal unforgettable wasn’t just the food, though that alone would have been enough. It was the shared joy of it – the knowing looks, the pauses in conversation, the collective mmms and ahhhs that only happen when something is truly excellent. We went in fully aware that we were treating ourselves, and we leaned into it completely. This dish crystallised, for me, what fine dining is really about: value not just in technique or ingredients, but in memory-making. Food that reconnects you to places you’ve loved, moments you’ve lived, and people you want to celebrate. And when the food is this good – the kind that even Austin Butler can’t help but talk about – you know you’re in exactly the right place.
Ten meals, countless memories – and many more still to come.
Over time, a handful of meals stopped being just meals. They became benchmarks – moments that defined my taste and quietly set the standard for everything that followed. These are the ten plates that started The Edit.
In a world overflowing with noise and novelty, choosing well has become an act of care. The Edit exists to make that choice effortless – thoughtful recommendations, no algorithms, no overwhelm.
Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is a pattern.
So after yet another friend told me I should “turn this into a business,” I finally stopped brushing it off.