Here’s what happens when the Light Years crew hits the big smoke

I remember two things about Hanmer Springs.

The first was a squeaky hotel bed. The second was watching a maitre d’ tell an American tourist that yes ma’am, wherever we were dining that night was indeed one of the best restaurants in New Zealand.

This was 20-odd years ago and it was a fine enough place. Best in town, sure. But that’s about it.

I thought about it that night, my bed squeaking, and it stuck with me the next day, and has done ever since.

That restaurant in Hanmer – a small spa town between Christchurch and Greymouth – was nothing on where I worked, in Queenstown. But then Queenstown’s restaurants were nothing on Auckland or Wellington, and we had our share of industry blowhards.

Arcade Agency aren’t blowhards but this Byron-based hospo group could’ve easily ended up out over its skies with Bar Monte, which opened in Newstead in October.

Small-town hospitality is great, in a small town. Take it to the big smoke and you’re in danger of getting lost in the noise, particularly when beachside regulars arrive to rekindle the romance and find you in the old Allonda digs in a laneway off Longland Street.

It feels like there are regulars from the original Miami Bar Monte the night we visit the Newstead restaurant (or perhaps from Light Years, Arcade Agency’s Byron Bay calling card). It’s a notably young crowd, a good half-generation younger on average, say, than Beccofino or Mosconi or Bianca, all of which are a few blocks away.

They sit in a dining room that I liked when it was Allonda, and love now. The layout is much the same, with the staircase and textured walls that lead up to the mezzanine. Downstairs, the place pops with dark tiling, timber panelling and curious feature lighting. It feels whimsical but also familiar, although I have to fold my six-two frame into a corner table a little more than my physio would like.

That corner table comes with other drawbacks. We’re out of sight of the maitre d’s desk and forgotten about as the dining room rapidly fills with guests. It takes a little semaphore with the menus to get our order placed. On a second visit, a manager tells me an unpaid itemised invoice will absolutely appease my accounts department – the restaurant equivalent of the cabbie who knows the best way to your house.

These are relatively brief glitches but they’re frustrating because, otherwise, things at Bar Monte move with smiling speed and accuracy. Drinks are served at the table and the staff welcome me back when I walk in off the street on my return – heartening stuff for such a locals-focused venue.

The food intended to keep them coming back is a mix of the good and the occasionally great.

For snacks, textural Calabrian chilli prawn in a luscious mayo-based sauce would be a minor sensation but for the slightly tired milk bun in which it’s delivered. The restaurant’s anchovy toast – an import from Byron sister restaurant Pixie – is better, its backbone a smoked tomato butter so brilliant it arguably overpowers the Cantabrian anchovy on top, but you hardly mind. And a honey-glazed grilled mortadella skewer finished with chilli and served with sweet and sour peaches is a fabulously straightforward variation on the Italian summertime creation.

On the entrees, you can see why regulars go nuts over Bar Monte’s beef carpaccio, even if I’d prefer it a touch more restrained. The paper thin wagyu beef is so beautifully delicate, so silken, it seems a shame to laden it with this much truffle mayo, parmesan and pickled shallots. In the restaurant’s defence, co-owner Lorenzo Toscani says his chefs have tried to change the dish but his regulars insist it stays as is. Can’t fart against thunder, I guess.

For mains, we order a vodka ’nduja creste finished with Byron Bay stracciatella that’s elevated, soul-warming comfort food despite being a little under seasoned. We prefer it over an eggplant parmigiana that’s ultimately a little too restrained for our liking.

The one cocktail I have with dinner is a bit of a bust – a caprese-themed vodka Martini so subtle I can barely taste the booze. But the wines we drink by the glass are fun and refreshingly well-priced (very well priced in some cases) – in particular a structural, lively Von Buhl riesling trocken and a cracking Provenance Golden Plains pinot with its distinctively perfumed dry-spice notes.

The promise of a pistachio-spiked tiramisu convinces us to order this overplayed dessert just one more time. No regrets – it turns out to be a relatively subtle and homely interpretation.

And homely is perhaps the best way to think of Bar Monte. Would I drive across town for this place? Perhaps not. But it’s going about things the right way, focussing on locals first. Toscani said at opening that he wants Bar Monte to be a neighbourhood trattoria, and if I lived upstairs I’d be wandering down on the regular for a snack or three.

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