The Best Restaurants in Australia

The restaurant takes its name from the Japanese word for a Western chef's knife, which tells you something about where this place sits, one foot in Japanese tradition, the other in the cooking-obsessed Sydney dining scene. It's a considered, sit-down Japanese restaurant in sleepy Clovelly, and the kitchen leans hard on local produce while keeping the cooking precise and unfussy. The kind of room where people are there to eat, not to be seen.

Parked right on Lake Burley Griffin with the water close enough that you feel slightly guilty checking your phone, Water's Edge is a polished Modern Australian restaurant where seasonal produce gets a quiet nudge from French technique and Mediterranean habit. The room reads special-occasion, though regulars treat it as a comfortable Wednesday. An Australian Good Food Guide Chef Hat acknowledges the kitchen's ambitions, which are considerable for a Canberra lakeside address.

The beer garden wraps around a wood oven and an Argentine-style grill, which tells you something about the ambitions of this old Clare Valley pub. Much of the produce comes from the hotel's own organic farm down the road, and the kitchen runs everything from a casual a la carte to a six-course degustation. The Australian Good Food Guide has given it a Chef Hat, and the setting, a lovingly restored country hotel, makes it easy to stay longer than planned.

Fine dining inside a working winery estate, with the manicured gardens of The Llawn rolling out beyond the windows. The team pairs a modern Australian tasting menu and à la carte with the estate's own wines, which is a convenient arrangement when the wines are this good. The Swan Valley setting does a lot of the heavy lifting, and the kitchen seems content to match it rather than compete, leaning on seasonal produce and clean technique.

Soft lighting, warm tones, and a menu that leans hard into classic French bistro cooking occupy a quiet stretch of Arthur Street in Fortitude Valley. Winnifred's is the kind of place where a long lunch with a decent Burgundy seems not just reasonable but necessary. Steaks get proper sauces, seafood is treated without fuss, and the room manages to feel polished without making you nervous about your shoes.

Glossy black finishes and low lighting set the mood at this contemporary Japanese restaurant inside Surfers Paradise's QT Hotel. The menu runs the izakaya staples: sashimi, sushi, and kushiyaki from the grill, all built for sharing. A focused list of Japanese whisky, sake, and cocktails keeps pace with the food. The Gold Coast isn't the first place you'd expect a moody Tokyo-ish dining room, which is sort of the point.

Marble bench tops and pendant lighting set the tone at this Modern Australian restaurant on Port Douglas's main corner, where the menu leans into local seafood and Far North Queensland produce. It reads as the kind of place where you could go on a date or a group dinner and neither party would feel shortchanged. The Australian Good Food Guide has given it a Chef Hat.

Bar Torino is a casual Italian restaurant on Hutt Street, behind a black facade that looks like it has secrets and mostly just has anchovy crostini. Inside, a black-and-white mosaic floor and low, moody lighting do most of the stylish-bar work. The kitchen cooks regional Italian with Mediterranean detours, and the wood-roasted chicken is sized for two. It holds a Michelin Guide Bib Gourmand.

Gondola Gondola is a casual Thai and Vietnamese spot on Peel Street, where wood paneling and colorful neon do the work of a plane ticket to Southeast Asia. The menu is built for sharing, so the sensible move is bringing friends and ordering a little of everything, rather than guarding one plate like it owes you money. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand, and yes, there's a tiramisu made with Thai milk tea.

A tiny Mexican taqueria in Port Adelaide where the name reads less like branding and more like a warning, because the handful of seats go fast and the people in the know book ahead. The corn tortillas are made in house, and a good seat lets you watch the tortilla machine do its thing behind the counter. Chips and guacamole come first, Latin music fills the gaps, and it holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

This is a family-run Vietnamese restaurant on Glen Osmond Road where the smell of the kitchen reaches you before the door closes behind you. It's casual and reasonably priced, a Michelin Bib Gourmand holder, and the room stays full enough that a walk-in table feels like a small victory. The spring rolls are built for sharing, a rule that tends to dissolve once they arrive. There's a short local wine list, too.

Pantry on Prospect goes by POP, which is the sort of nickname you only earn when the neighborhood has adopted you. It's half deli, half casual restaurant, so you can leave with a jar of pickles whether you came for lunch or dinner. The menu leans local and seasonal, with sharing boards and Coffin Bay oysters. Dress is whatever you wore to the shops, and it carries a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Parwana is a casual Afghan restaurant on Henley Beach Road where the food arrives to share and the naan does most of the work that cutlery gets blamed for. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand, which is the guide's polite way of saying you won't need to sell anything. Come with a crowd, order the rice and the grilled lamb, and don't worry about the fork. Nobody's grading.

Stamps is a neighborhood restaurant in a former post office, and it still takes the mail seriously, just in the form of a pie of the day. A husband-and-wife team runs the room with the kind of easy service that makes you linger over a short list of Australian wines. The specials board is long enough to cause indecision, and the warm donuts at the end settle the argument. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

A country inn in McLaren Vale with an ivy-covered facade and a kitchen garden out back, which means the herbs on your plate probably walked about forty feet. The cooking wanders freely between Australian and Asian ideas, so dumplings can arrive stuffed with local seafood and kangaroo gets a long marinade in spices. It's a relaxed, dressed-for-wine-country sort of lunch, and the Michelin Guide lists it as a Bib Gourmand.

Tirage is a casual wine bar on Kingscote's main shopping street, with a few small tables orbiting one big communal table in the middle, so you'll likely be on a first-name basis with a stranger by the second glass. The menu sticks to Kangaroo Island produce and South Australian seafood, and it holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand. Order something with local lamb and pastry, then ask yourself why you ever eat anywhere else.

You ring a bell to get in, which either sounds precious or exactly right once you're seated inside this converted Gold Rush bank in the Victorian high country. The restaurant runs a multi-course tasting menu with a Japanese lean, built around hyper-local produce. About eighteen small plates arrive in four bento-style rounds, and the cooking is precise without being cold. A Discovery listing from The 50 puts it on the national map.

Agapi is a neighborhood Greek restaurant on a boutique-lined stretch of King William Road, easy to spot by its black exterior. Inside, painted frescoes cover the walls, which seems fitting for a place built around dips, grilled octopus, and moussaka. The roasted lamb shoulder takes its time, so bring a group and book ahead. It's a sit-down dinner with a bottle of wine, not a quick souvlaki on your way somewhere else.

Chianti is a family-run Italian restaurant on Hutt Street that has been feeding Adelaide longer than most of its regulars have had opinions about pasta. The cooking sticks to regional classics and leaves the reinventing to other people, so expect rabbit pappardelle, a Tuscan half chicken, and panna cotta to finish. The Michelin Guide lists it as a Selected Restaurant, and the welcome is warm enough that nobody gets rushed.

Clover and Stone is a vineyard restaurant about half an hour outside Adelaide, with a terrace over the gardens and a renovated stone barn for when the weather turns. The chef cooks Korean food by way of French and Italian technique, so the gochujang shows up in places a Sunday-lunch crowd wouldn't expect. It's a Michelin Guide selected restaurant, which here mostly means someone will drive you home.

This is a family-run winery restaurant in McLaren Vale, so the wine list is the one place nobody has to argue about the pairing. A wood stove handles the cold months, and in summer vines creep across the ceiling like the room is trying to join the vineyard outside. Lunch leans on the kitchen garden, with à la carte on weekdays and a set menu on weekends. It holds a spot in the Michelin Guide as a Selected Restaurant.

Fugazzi is an Italian-American restaurant in central Adelaide that borrows heavily from New York, right down to the red walls, marble counters, and booths built for leaning in. The menu runs to handmade pasta, wood-grilled seafood and meat, and a tiramisu finished tableside, which turns dessert into a small stage production. It's lively and dressy enough for an occasion, and it holds a spot in the Michelin Guide as a Selected Restaurant.

Huami is a Chinese restaurant upstairs at the SkyCity casino, which is either a red flag or a plot twist, and the contemporary dining room says plot twist. The kitchen cooks regional dishes from across China, and a wood-fired duck oven sits in full view of the tables, so you can watch your dinner get ideas. Weekend dim sum comes with tea pairings. It holds a Michelin Guide Selected Restaurant listing.

Latteria is a Milanese-leaning Italian restaurant on a corner of Hutt Street, where the first order of business is an aperitivo and a snack, a porchetta bun or fried risotto, before anyone gets serious about dinner. The pasta is made in house, and the staff will steer you if you freeze. Everyone arrives well dressed, as though the negroni sbagliato came with a dress code. It's listed in the Michelin Guide as a Selected Restaurant.

A modern Vietnamese restaurant on Rundle Street, where the menu takes liberties and doesn't apologize for them. Pho shows up as dumplings, and dessert pours fish sauce into the butterscotch. The front terrace gets the best view of the street's nightly foot traffic, so you can eat grilled squid in chili butter while watching other people decide where to eat. It's a mid-priced, come-as-you-are sort of place with a Michelin Guide listing.

A former general store and post office in Stirling now handles its mail in the form of pasta, which arrives in heaps big enough that most tables order one to split. It's a relaxed Adelaide Hills restaurant with a regional, Italian-leaning menu, and a husband-and-wife team who greet you like they've been expecting you. Expect good shoes, not good suits, and the Michelin Guide lists it as a Selected Restaurant.

Penobscot skips the dining room entirely and seats ten people at a counter in the middle of the kitchen, tucked inside the Watervale Hotel in the Clare Valley. The menu is whatever came out of the farm down the road that morning, so there's no point asking what's good, it's all Tuesday's. Expect a tasting-menu price and a front-row view of the cooking, plus house-made farm-fruit mocktails if you're driving.

Soi 38 is a Thai restaurant on Pirie Street named for a Bangkok street food strip, which is a bold move for a dining room done up almost entirely in white. Nobody here is eating off plastic stools, and the chef's years cooking in Thailand show up in regional dishes that stay faithful while allowing a little fun. It's a Michelin Guide Selected restaurant, and the curry list runs long enough to settle most arguments.

Sunset Food and Wine sits out on Kangaroo Island, where the menu reads like a thank-you note to the neighbors who grow, catch, and raise everything on it. Oysters, lamb, pork, and honey all come from within a short drive, which keeps the supply chain shorter than most restaurants' wine lists. It's a relaxed, sit-down dinner spot with a Michelin Guide listing and a view that makes the sunset part of the reservation.

Tarantino's is a moody, candlelit restaurant on the edge of Adelaide's East End, with the dim, leather-booth atmosphere of a New York steakhouse that took a wrong turn into South Australia. Nearly every small table faces the open kitchen and its wood-fired grill, so dinner comes with a view of the fire. Expect to spend real money, especially if the lobster pasta gets involved, and to be Michelin Guide Selected.

This is the dining room of a pub in the Adelaide Hills, with stone walls, white interiors and the faint air of a countryside cottage that has been to culinary school. Before you sit down, there's a walk-in cellar doubling as a wine shop, so you can pick your bottle like you own the place. The cooking leans French and Italian, with kangaroo showing up on the menu to remind you where you are. It's a Michelin Guide Selected Restaurant.

The Kitchen is a casino-adjacent steakhouse dressed as a railway station, right down to a kitchen laid out like a train, which feels like a lot of commitment to a bit. A big charcoal grill anchors the open kitchen and handles everything from carrots to Australian beef, and the tomahawk and lamb shoulder are built for sharing. It's a Michelin Guide Selected Restaurant, so wear something nicer than your commuter clothes.

This is a restaurant on a working sheep station in the Flinders Ranges, where the lamb on your plate grew up a short drive from your table. It's a casual outback dinner, so dress for dust and a long drive rather than a tasting menu. Tables vanish fast, and the Michelin Guide lists it. You can also arrange helicopter tours or stay the night, which is handy since the nearest town is not close.

Yakisan is a dress-up-for-it Japanese-leaning restaurant on O'Connell Street, where a jade marble counter fronts an open fire and a big oven, and a DJ is working somewhere behind the private booths. There's a sky deck for people who like to be seen from above, and a back bar for the ones who prefer to be seen later. Steak is the main event, and the dinner bill will tell you it's a night out. Michelin Guide Selected Restaurant.

The pink-and-rouge facade with its pearlescent sign looks like it belongs to a different era, which is fitting because Sean's has been around forever under various names. A casual, artistically eclectic restaurant on Campbell Parade, it does inventive home-style cooking with warm hospitality and a wide-angle view of Bondi Beach that makes you forget whatever you ordered. The menu is the kind that feels approachable right up until you realize how good it is.

Around 40 types of chai brew in bubbling pots inside this tiny, caravan-like shop on Pennant Hills Road, and the cardamom-and-clove perfume hits you before you reach the door. The menu draws on the owner's Kenyan upbringing, where cooks pushed the spice levels harder than tradition usually allows. Many blends are named after people he knows, and each one is said to reflect its namesake's personality, which is either charming or a little terrifying depending on your namesake.

The sandwiches are named after family members at this snug North African cafe on Crown Street, which tells you most of what you need to know about the vibe. The menu wanders from Morocco to Algeria to Tunisia, with fried eggs jolted with cumin and tchouktchouka, a Tunisian cousin of shakshuka built on tomatoes and a 21-spice ras el hanout. A genuinely family-run room, warm enough that you feel the invitation.

Six types of papaya salad is already an argument, and Chat Thai's menu runs to around 200 dishes from there. This long-running Thai restaurant near Circular Quay sources holy basil and garlic from the family farm, which shows up in the larb, the curries, and the stir-fries in ways that supermarket herbs simply don't. The location draws Opera House crowds and ferry commuters alike, but the kitchen isn't coasting on the view.

The charcoal smoke rolling out toward Granville Station has been redirecting commuters for decades. This is a Lebanese charcoal chicken shop, the original location of a Sydney institution, and the garlic sauce has generated enough devotion to spawn interstate outposts and genuinely long queues. Chicken, chips, and that sauce are the move, though the hot chips roll has its own following. Simple, cash-friendly, and absolutely not somewhere you walk past without stopping.

Mazesoba is ramen's broth-free cousin, and Iiko brought the style to Sydney before anyone else bothered. The noodles arrive loaded with umami-heavy toppings, and bottles of chili oil and kombu vinegar sit on the table so you can keep adjusting until the bowl is exactly yours. The co-owner studied noodle-making in Osaka, and it shows in the depth of a dish that doesn't need soup to feel complete. A noodle shop worth squeezing into on Hay Street.

Jonathan Barthelmess, whose Apollo has been packing rooms in Sydney for years, opened this Greek dining room in Redfern's Wunderlich Lane with the same gift for making a space feel like somewhere everyone already knows. The spanakopita makes the rounds at nearly every table, and the prasopita, a flaky spiral with four melted cheeses, is what your neighbor ordered first. Spanakopita and charred octopus are the things to know.

Spring rolls that pull weekend queues to a Vietnamese restaurant tucked into Cabramatta are worth understanding. The crunch comes from a style of rice paper that's genuinely hard to source, producing a shell that's thick, glossy, and audibly crisp in a way most versions never manage. The kitchen traces its lineage back to the neighborhood's landmark Thanh Binh, and that pedigree shows in the cooking. Food writer Andrew Levins has called the spring rolls the finest in the country.

The Soulmate Bae roll comes stuffed with house-made sambal, herb mayo, and Red Leicester because one co-owner's grandmother kept it in the fridge, and that's the kind of detail that tells you everything. This Newtown brunch spot runs on toasties and morning rolls with just enough left-field thinking to keep the menu interesting. Staff move at a clip, and the takeaway line stays honest.

Shunde, a Cantonese city with UNESCO gastronomy status, doesn't get much representation in Sydney, which is what makes this Hurstville restaurant worth knowing. The menu leans into dishes you won't find on every dim sum trolley, including fried milk, which arrives either savory with fish cakes and roe or sweet with mango, and fried milk rolls that land somewhere between a spring roll and a cannoli.

The lamington, Australia's beloved chocolate-coconut sponge, gets a full reimagining at this specialty cake shop in Newtown. The original comes with raspberry jam and carries a quietly personal backstory, but the fairy bread version, popcorn buttercream and all, is the one that stops people mid-sentence. Yuzu meringue and black sesame round out a menu that treats a childhood staple with enough seriousness to make that feel completely reasonable.

The wild yeasts here come from flowers collected across New South Wales, which the brewer describes as something like collecting dreams. Wildflower is a craft brewery and taproom in Marrickville's industrial brewing corridor, where the beers taste deeply local because they are, down to the plum varietals. The grilled Jersey cheese from a nearby dairy is reason enough to eat, and the collaborators propping up the menu read like a who's who of Sydney's food scene.

The dough here starts with single-heritage emmer wheat grown up north and ferments for three days before it sees fire, which is a longer backstory than most pizzas get. Westwood is a pizza shop in Newtown where the team sources everything, salami, vegetables, cheese, honey, and the timber in the oven, from within New South Wales. It reads like a provenance exercise but eats like a neighbourhood pizza night.

The awarma and egg pizza here tells a small family history: confit lamb preserved through Lebanese winters, combined with a daughter's preference for sunny-side-up eggs, folded into a man'oushe. This old-school Lebanese flatbread house in Guildford has been around forever, and the menu has grown to include things like a haloumi spring roll wrapped in deep-fried phyllo with za'atar, which is either an identity crisis or a perfectly reasonable Tuesday lunch.

Marble counters, brass fittings, and a wood-fired grill visible from the dining room set the tone on Flinders Lane. This is an Italian-leaning steakhouse where Australian beef, aged both wet and dry, meets open fire with a lot of restraint and very little fuss. The room manages glamorous without stiff, and the service follows the same instinct. It landed on the World's Best Steak Restaurants list, which tells you the kitchen is serious about the meat programme.