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Trevor Pepys reviews Piccolino Italian, Hastings Street
Trevor can’t walk the Woods end of Hastings Street without getting teary-eyed nostalgic for the Noosa that was. Or more correctly, the several Noosas that were!
Across the decades there have been many establishments, like Little Palmer’s (or Aqua Bar, as it became), Belmondo’s, La Sabbia and so on, that defined the west end of the strip, and the frontier spirit of the town. Trev’s abiding memory from those earlier times is from the height of the 1992 flood, when he, the missus, and Stef Fisher and Leonie Palmer waded from Big Palmer’s to Little Palmer’s, checking on how people were faring, and stopping for a drink at every open door.
This was how Noosa faced a crisis – with a thirst!
Leonie later wrote of the then-Aqua Bar: “The Aqua Bar has blossomed since we first knocked out the front wall and called it Palmer’s. This is Noosa’s most in-your-face on-the-street café. It’s impossible to walk by it: you must walk through it.” And none of that has changed.
So we were in a nostalgic mood the other night, when we parked the car in #2 and made our way to our destination, #10, which once was Li’l Palmer’s, became Aqua Bar and is currently #10 café by day and Piccolino by night. But we’ll get to that.
First, a pre-dinner cocktail at Miss Moneypenny’s – a site which has its own fascinating history, but that can wait – now the vortex of all things chic and modern, including waiters in tight pants and exposed socks.
The missus decided on a La Rivas prosecco ($14.50) while Trev went all the way with a Campari spritz ($19) and knew immediately he should have ordered a cold beer. But when the ice melted enough to let him get at it, the Campari hit the spot, and we mindlessly watched the pre-holiday passing parade while lost in memory.
Mood elevated, we sauntered into what Trev thought was Piccolino – a couple of tables downstairs and a few more upstairs in what may have once been Steve Cross’s excellent Saltwater. But we were ushered into the larger, near-empty space that is #10 Café by day. We took a table at the rear and listened to the pleasant sounds of minstrel Brad Schultz while we ordered a round of garlic herb bread ($14) and a bottle of the Pasqua Pinot Grigio delle Venezie ($45) to get us started as we considered the mains.
The room didn’t stay empty for long, a balmy spring night, some live sounds and a 20 per cent discount for locals! Works every time.
We decided to stick with the pasta, the missus selecting the Tagliatelle di Zucca Gorgonzola ($32) while Trev opted for the Gamberi e Spinaci ($32) with an agreement to share.
The vegetarian tagliatelle, with grilled pumpkin, gorgonzola, mushrooms in pumpkin sauce, nutmeg and pine nuts, was a massive dish and, well, a little too pumpkiny. No offence to a veg that has served us well over a million Sunday roasts and comfort soups, the pasta just needed a lift in the form of a little spice. Not to mention that during the sharing plate swap, half of it ended on Trev’s dress-up tee shirt.
On the other hand, the prawns and pan-fried spinach, with garlic, lime and pistachios on a prawn and crab ravioli, was a subtle masterpiece. Rustic Italian at its uncomplicated best. Trev had to prise it back off the bride – fortunately very little of it landing on his shirt – and was tempted to order again.
The verdict: In the immortal words of the doyenne herself, it’s impossible to walk past this place, you have to walk through it! But why would you walk past? It’s fun, live music seven nights, affordable with the Monday through Thursday locals’ discount, and the food is pretty damn good.
Piccolino, 8-10 Hastings Street, phone 5447 3346.