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Birra. Biscotti. Bolognese. Bresaola. Bruschetta. There are countless awesome Italian things that begin with the letter ‘B’, but if you love wine, barolo has got to be near the top of the list. And now we can also add Bar Olo – a snazzy new Carlton bar playfully named after the Piedmont grape varietal. Both locals and curious passersby have been smitten from the moment its mysterious sheer white curtain was first swept back in April 2024. So what’s all the fuss about?
Well, first of all, there’s the Scopri connection; the bar’s big sister restaurant is a short walk down the road, and is one of Carlton’s longtime favourites for old-school Italian hospitality and special occasion dining. Bar Olo may have been fated to be just another restaurant outpost (a recent trend that’s seen many venues add little bars next door as a kind of footnote to their central offering), but it’s immediately clear that this one plays no second fiddle.
Upon entry, you’ll fall in love with the beautiful classiness of the 40-seater. It’s stylish and sophisticated with white cloth-draped tables and a tastefully warm and handsome design, plus a welcoming team of well-groomed staff ready to make sure you’re taken care of right away. In a similar vein to fellow recent-ish openings like Apollo Inn and Bianchetto, there’s a modern-vintage feel to Bar Olo that feels distinctly Melbourne. New, exciting and fresh – yet flirting with a bygone era when that special vibe felt, well, more special.
Though the leatherbound wine list is a tempting proposition on our first visit, I decide to try a cocktail instead. My sister’s mocktail is a sort of sherbet-like Orange Sour while I’ve opted for the Langhe Spritz – a lively blend of barolo chinato, sweet vermouth and Campari with a sparkling slosh of prosecco. Our waiter is kind and attentive, topping up our water regularly and ensuring all is well.
The vegetable medley with white bean dip is a refreshing starter to whet our appetites (how can you go wrong with such excellent farm-fresh produce?), but it’s the soft and fluffy prawn tramezzini that steals the show on the snack front – a crustless cocktail sandwich containing sweet prawns, creamy mayo-based salsa rosa and bursts of fried tropea onion. It's gone in seconds flat and I yearn for another.
The heartier mains bring plenty of smiles, too, from the gorgeously coiled ribbons of papardelle ripiene with Jerusalem artichoke, parmigiano cream and hazelnut pesto to the agnolotti del plin (a signature Scopri staple). These pasta dishes are faultless and so attention-consuming in their time-honoured, balanced construction of deliciousness, we actually forget to order wine – that’s a first for me. Sipping on an Amaro Montenegro by the meal’s end, we debate whether we have room for dessert. But a chocolatey popsicle of hazelnut semifreddo proves too inviting and so we share one – a rich and lavish end to the night.
On another visit, I bring along a Bar Olo first-timer who is equally enamoured with the venue’s countless charms: its soft jazzy flute soundtrack, the handsome wood panelling, the Plumm glassware and a busy sense of routine that makes Bar Olo feel like it’s been alive and kicking for much longer than it has been.
If you love exploring the intoxicating world of Italian wine through taste at least, Bar Olo is the place to be. One cataratto’s aroma carries a subtle note of tomato paste for making pizza, and a particularly stunning ribolla giola is my wine of the night. “If you like riesling, then you’ll like this,” a waiter had responded to my prompt for a suggestion.
And there are moments so pleasurable, we immediately schedule in revisits for more fritto misto (my partner who grew up with a nonna can confirm: this is the real deal – the lightly fried vegetables are superb), a super-rich next-level ox tail ragu, which we indulgently pair with a $55 glass of bone-dry barolo (because not trying barolo at a bar named after it seems sacrilegious) and a smoky, characterful sangiovese.
And so all this loveliness begs the question: can you improve on perfection? A little. Though the staff on my second visit are polite, there’s a distractedness that detracts from the focused attention I experienced on my first visit and it’s a good ten minutes before we’re asked for our first order. One of my favourite things about visiting a wine bar has always been the connection to the sommelier, who carries a wine-stained barrel of knowledge I long to drink from, if I should be so lucky. For a venue so small and intimate, it’d be preferable to enjoy a more consistent approach to service, especially when seated directly at the bar. But this is a minor quibble.
Our verdict? It’s a winner. For an excellent dinner, happy hour wines or simply the most casual of inner-city catch-ups, Bar Olo has fast cemented its place as a new Melbourne favourite and it deserves every drop of love it’s getting right now. It’s the kind of place that makes our interstate friends wish they lived here instead.