The wizard of Osia

Most of us are familiar with the expression 'bush tucker' thanks to the fabulously compulsive I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here! In fact, it refers to Australia's indigenous foodstuffs, currently enjoying a resurgence in the hot restaurants of Sydney and Melbourne. So the menu at Osia, co-owned by Australian chef Scott Webster, is peppered with tuckerisms: you'll find quandong (a tiny, peach-like fruit); wattleseed (a seed with a nutty, coffee flavour); lemon myrtle (kinda like it sounds); kumera (a sort of sweet potato); akudjura (a bit like a sun-dried tomato); and rosella flower (with a raspberry/rhubarb taste).

I don't think the intention is to disenfranchise, but it can be irritating to be faced with a menu that needs so much explanation. Especially for the foodie-trainspotter likes of me. I really hate it when a date asks me what something is and I have to confess through gritted teeth that I've no idea.

Luckily, the staff here have been thoroughly drilled in the dishes and are happy to explain at length just what you're in for. They're primed to answer all your questions, even my date's 'Where did you get your shirts from? They look just like Marni.' Answer: 'Zara.'

Because of my mild irritation, I rather unkindly hoped the execution of the dishes wouldn't come off, so that I could dismiss the menu as a misguided attempt at novelty for novelty's sake. But what we ate was pretty damn good, the unfamiliar elements adding surprise and interest to some truly assured cooking.

From a selection of food 'cocktails' - way beyond the humble prawn - I chose Devonshire crab with minted cucumber threads and flying fish roe delivering bursts of fresh, sparky sweetness. This demonstrated Webster's intention to 'mix the flavours of Australia with Europe's outstanding natural ingredients'. Our other starter of fat prawns threaded on to wooden skewers and wrapped in kunafa pastry - that delicate, difficult-to-master stuff that looks like Weetabix - was sensational: meaty fish, delicate pastry, a pungent wasabi mayonnaise.

A hefty pork chop - excellent depth of piggy flavour - came with an orange quandong glaze. The soursweetness of the orange worked well with the meat, though I won't be crossing continents to search out the woody little quandong again. Little lamb cutlets came crusted with Dorrigo pepper on mashed kumera. This was the only dish that didn't do the biz: the stridently bay flavour of the pepper and a surfeit of cinnamon in the mash swamped the meat leaving it tasting like pot-pourri.

Puds are just as abstruse, with elements like eucalyptus rosemary butter, wattleseed cream and hot rosella flower. But an iced macadamia nut soufflè with addictive caramelised whole nuts, caramel sauce and a bitter chocolate biscuit was a safe-ish, successful choice as was a slice of heated brie - an odd but effective notion - with a dried fruit muffin and quince paste.

It's a great space, too. A former Cafè Flo (and, no doubt, former bank), the cool, metropolitan design, all slate and leather and concrete and linen, brings a touch of class to Haymarket. There's a gorgeous bar, too, which is hidden from the restaurant, which is probably why it was empty on the night we visited. You could happily imagine conducting clandestine trysts here in its dim luxurious interior, fuelled by Inniskillin Ice Wine Martinis, toasted almonds and pillowy olives the size of plums.

Osia's stance is a brave one in a time when a jittery zeitgeist is dictating classicism and comfort food. But sometimes, like with this Oz wizard, adventure brings rewards.

Osia
11 Haymarket, SW1Y 4BP