After 14 years, does Matt Moran’s garden restaurant still deliver an epic long lunch?

Sunday lunch at Chiswick, Woollahra’s favourite posh family restaurant, is less of a meal and more of a lifestyle choice. A sun-drenched affair where multiple generations unhurriedly chat and clink glasses, playing seat roulette and generally making the place their own. Fancy handbags line long tables like luxury dominoes.

In our corner of the restaurant, decidedly less well-heeled but just as enthusiastic for a long lunch, we’re subbing out the Louis Vuitton in favour of plump, briny rock oysters. Today’s are from Merimbula, served with a cheek of lemon, a fine mignonette dressing and fermented chilli sauce.

The Victorian-era homestead is filled with heavily romantic, French farmhouse touches. Floor-to-ceiling windows look over the well-manicured lawns and kitchen garden. Persian rugs are slung over polished concrete floors. Out the front, terracotta pots are filled with brightly coloured flowers. There are canvas director’s chairs and outdoor heaters for those who choose to brave dining al fresco during the cooler months.

Over 14 years of service, it’s become a living, breathing part of the Woollahra community. To that end – and I’m speaking to the DINKs and SINKs out there – it pays to temper expectations around sharing a dining room with small children. Most of them manage to keep it together through their meal, but tantrums are a clear and present threat.

It’s nothing a cocktail can’t dull. Consider the tall glass of questionable decisions otherwise known as the Long Shadow: mezcal and bourbon with a glug of bittersweet rooibos cola.

Founder Matt Moran is responsible for the menu curation, and head chef Quan Nguyen is the day-to-day kitchen boss (he replaced Sam Rozsnyoi in April, who replaced Daniel Cooper in March last year). The direction feels particularly tight at the moment.

Mainstay dishes such as prawn sliders slathered in cocktail sauce are as solid as ever, but I’m more interested in the buttery, wood-fired scallops on the half-shell, dressed in an intensely musky XO sauce. Or the lobe of halloumi that arrives at the table sizzling in a cast iron pan, dressed in thyme-scented honey.

Spanakopita, a mix of spinach and feta all parcelled up in fine sheets of filo and baked ’til golden and shiny, is covered in a massive thicket of fresh dill and mint with a wedge of lemon. It might be listed as a main course, but consider it as a bridging dish if you’re intending to feast. It’s excellent with that fermented chilli sauce, too, if you have any left over from the oysters.

It’s a room, night and day, that hums with industry. Staff are so well-drilled in their routines here that the place has that feel of a well-kept piece of machinery. Run often, run well, but not run off its feet.

They’re happy to take the time to recommend an ultra-ripe yet crisp and dry Disznoko Tokaj to accompany a glassy-skinned roast chicken, which lands at the table with spongy pieces of sourdough stuffing, bathed in a golden jus gras and garnished with crisp sage leaves. Wonderful with a side of charred green beans tossed with pistachios and green olive cheeks. I like the gratinated cauliflower, too, covered with plenty of breadcrumbs, and a nice friend to the roast chook.

The midweek dinner vibes are a little more subdued than the ’Wick’s big, bright Sunday lunches. And it shows in the energy of staff who don’t quite bring the same level of friendliness or pace. That said, even on a cool Tuesday evening, it’s still packed out with families here for an early supper.

If subdued is the order of the day, think about dusting off a bottle of something from home – on Mondays and Tuesdays, Chiswick offers BYO for $25 corkage. Come by for a bowl of fresh pappardelle tossed with enoki, chestnut and oyster mushroom ragu, or rosy slices of flank steak served with a few rocket leaves and a squeeze of lemon. Dessert? Don’t miss the brown sugar custard and toasted pecan tart.

There’s something quite lovely about ordering from a menu that rewards minimal touch as much as going all out for maximal fun. Do as the locals do, and make the place your own.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.