Regional communities are funny places. They go about their work with a collaborative spirit, while understanding that competition underlies success, especially in the wine, tourism, and hospitality industries, and particularly in a place like the Barossa.

Call it country gossip or insider knowledge, people here often know each other’s business, too. When whispers that one of the region’s well-known (and well-liked) chefs was leaving his longstanding post as the guy in charge of the kitchen at Seppeltsfield’s Fino, opportunity struck, with another successful local restaurateur in the final stages of setting up a wine bar concept in nearby Angaston. They do say that timing is everything, and if you want to sell wine, good food helps.

That chef is Sam Smith. If you haven’t heard of him, it may be because his former boss at Fino, chef David Swain, was usually the one mentioned in articles, but when it came to Fino, the duo worked in tandem to grow the business and brand into the recognised destination it has become over the years. Swain has the profile but it was often Smith who kept the engine room running at a steady hum, more so when Swain had to split his time between the Barossa base and their newer, city-based Fino Vino. Insiders say Sam didn’t make the decision to leave Fino lightly. The brand has been part of his story for more than 11 years, the last seven of these at Seppeltsfield, and in that time he has also earnt his place as a Barossan local.

The other local is restaurateur Grant Dickson, well-known for heading up FermentAsian over its many years of success. As he moved out of that business in the direction of wine, collaborating with local winemakers to produce different and interesting drops each vintage under the Otherness wine label, Dickson needed a food offering to help round out the shining new wine bar and significantly-sized kitchen. With today’s local competition squarely focussed on recovering from a steady drop in international tourism and a need to draw in more locals, a cheese board just wouldn’t cut it, even if the cheese is as good as that produced just across the street at Barossa Valley Cheese Co.

First and foremost, it’s clear that Otherness is about community. The venue has also quickly become a tourism drawcard in a part of the Barossa that is often overlooked.

On this occasion, we’re seated next to a table of French and German wine types and, on the other side, a couple from interstate travelling through the region, nearing the end of a road trip around SA. Locals drop in while we dine, for lunch, a quick glass of something, or to pick up a bottle from well-curated shelves of wine that form the Otherness bottle shop. (Dickson won awards for wine lists at his previous venue and the bottle shop selection backs this up.)

Before we delve into the tasting menu at Otherness, we need to talk about the bread. Long before the punters arrive to try the daily fare, the venue starts its morning as a dedicated bakery (refer to my earlier note about the significant-sized kitchen). The formation of this fellowship had room for one more: another former Fino chef, Sarah Voigt, and her onsite enterprise ‘Breaking Bread’. She produces a range of breads and pastries to sell to locals via the in-store bread rack or at the local farmers’ market and to supply to other venues. Today’s loaves are served as the starting sourdough for lunch, alongside some Dairyman butter.

Piled high with Parma ham and some crunchy pink pickles, the bread has that perfect puffy yet dense chewy texture, and a hint of sourness: it has clearly been made by hands that know their stuff.

Next is a jumbled mix of shaved radicchio and lightly pickled onion with sprigs of dill, piled onto slivers of bluefin tuna that have been lightly marinaded in agrodolce sauce. What I first assumed were some kind of baby white lentil or bean are actually fregola, small pasta-like pellets that are something like couscous. Aside from texture, these impart a little nutty flavour and also manage to soak in a little of that sweet and sour condiment.

Bluefin tuna at Otherness. Supplied image

Another mistaken identity occurs thanks to a sauce that presents as hollandaise, sitting beneath a pile of barely cooked, crunchy and delightful asparagus spears. This is gribiche: perhaps one of the lesser-known French sauces, but one that should take its spot on the main stage. This is a thick and silken, piquant winner of a concoction. Like hollandaise, it uses emulsified egg yolk (although these are duck eggs and start out pre-boiled instead of raw) but has the added benefit and flavour of more herbs and capers to give it a levelled, herbaceous and salty kick. There’s a robustness that leans into meatiness thanks to the duck egg – it’s the star of today’s lunch, so far. That is, until the pork arrives.

Here’s where Sam Smith’s years of perfecting the art of cooking local cuts of meat comes into play. There’s never been a need to be fussy when it comes to pork (and soon, lamb) this good. Sourced right from nearby farms, uniform strips of belly have been crisped along each side, while the glistening layers of beautifully cooked fat and meat are visible at the end. Freshness is offered by a wombok and radish salad: no fuss, only crunch.

Simplicity is the key to the Otherness pork belly. Supplied image

Lamb from Hutton Vale Farm is on every good Barossa menu, and for good reason. This is a part shoulder, roasted until it’s falling off the bone. It’s been on Smith’s menu across venues, presented in another simple fashion that’ll make your Sunday (or in this case Monday) roast lunch shine. A creamy mash beneath and a generous handful of fresh herbs on top and we’re helplessly forcing the last few mouthfuls down, despite being sated by the pork course – it’s too good not to.

And finally, we’re offered a final choice of cheese or semifreddo. Ice cream seems like the only real option at this point (of gluttony): a few spoonfuls can’t tip the balance any further, surely?

But this isn’t your average scoop. We’re presented with two uniform rectangles of orange-infused semifreddo, sandwiched between chocolate sable cookies, rich and still crunchy. More crunch comes from pistachios, crumbled on top, and a tart little hit thanks to candied peel. We finish these too, of course.

Orange Semifreddo sandwiched between chocolate sable cookies. Supplied image

We’ve also finished a few glasses of wine from the Otherness range. Earlier in the meal, the ‘Urth’ Riesling from the Clare Valley was the perfect match to the tuna; with the pork and lamb it was the ‘Harmonica’ blend of Aglianico, Montepulciano and Primitivo, a sturdy looking yet light and balanced tasting red, that stood up against the robust meaty flavours without too much effort.

The effort behind this place is what will make it a long-term success: the vision of a restaurateur and wine guy with a real sense of community, the dedication of a skilled baker, and the audacity of a bloody good chef.

Otherness Wine Bar

38 Murray Street, Angaston

otherness.com.au

Open

Thursday – Saturday 11am-5pm

Sunday and Monday 11am-5pm