Lucia: An Evening in Collingwood, by Way of Naples

Lucia feels like the kind of neighbourhood restaurant you stumble upon in a quiet corner of Europe — dimly lit, softly humming and instantly disarming. It’s warm, tactile and full of quiet confidence. The terrazzo bar, open kitchen and flickering candles set the tone for a night that unfolds slowly, glass by glass, plate by plate. The fit-out is minimal but inviting, a perfect stage for the kind of food that doesn’t need to shout to impress.

The Menu: Honest, Hands-On Italian

Everything at Lucia is built around quality produce and restraint. The pasta is handmade daily — silky pappardelle with slow-braised ragu, cacio e pepe with perfect bite, and squid ink linguine that tastes of the sea. Starters are light but purposeful: grilled octopus with chickpeas, burrata with charred figs, and paper-thin prosciutto carved to order. The flavours are clean, balanced and unmistakably Italian, without leaning on clichés.

The wine list is a love letter to Italy, curated by people who actually drink what they pour. Expect natural and minimal-intervention drops alongside more traditional favourites, all chosen to pair seamlessly with the menu’s depth and simplicity.

The Experience: Slow Dining Done Right

Lucia is built for connection. The pace is unhurried, the music soft and familiar, and the staff genuinely engaged. Service feels personal — they’ll remember your last wine and recommend the next one like a friend would. It’s equally suited to a date night or solo dinner at the bar, where the rhythm of the kitchen and clink of glasses become part of the experience. Lucia is what Melbourne does best: intimacy without pretense, and flavour that speaks for itself.