A slice of Italy in the CBD

We all know that good things come in small packages and Ed’s Spuntino – the tiny cafe-cum-restaurant in the old ambulance station on Bathurst St – is a case in point. It seats just 12 people, with room for two more standing outside by the window, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in personality and flavour. In Italian, “spuntino” means snack or small bite and it’s the perfect name for this bite-sized gem.

Drop in early for a coffee and a bacon and egg roll to go, or take a seat at the bar and enjoy an omelet or perhaps some seeded sourdough toast from Imago with some CWA jam.

There are a variety of muffins on offer – the carrot cake one I tried was outstanding and Peter Maxwell, the chef, topped it with a slick of cream cheese frosting for me as well. His son, Ed, mans the coffee machine and handles front of house. The two opened Ed’s Spuntino in late January 2020 after Ed, a former weightlifter, suffered an injury and was looking for a new outlet.

Lunch is the main gig here and, on the day we visit, there’s a constant stream of people dropping in for a plate of fresh pasta. Given its size, Ed’s is perfect for a solo meal or a lunch date for two – most seats are at the counter, with a tiny table for two off to one side.

There is a menu but it varies depending on what Peter’s cooked that day. I’m keen for the highly recommended meatballs but when he hears me order them, Peter calls across the room that they are “problematic today.”

I opt instead for the tagliatelle with ragu ($28) instead. My companion orders the gnocchi with burnt butter and pork sausage ($28) – an item that’s not on the menu but which is cheerfully recommended.

Service is casual and friendly but, really, the room is so small that it’s easy to ask for whatever you need.

We stick to water for our midweek lunch but there’s a concise wine list of reasonably priced Italian wines (mainly reds) along with a couple of Tasmanian gins and a whiskey. While Ed’s is open for breakfast and lunch every day, you can book dinner there for groups of eight. Peter will organise a set menu and you’ll have the place to yourselves.

It’s only once our orders are taken that Peter, who has cooked in Italy – begins rolling our pasta. Fresh, egg-rich dough is fed through the hand-cranked pasta machine that sits permanently on the bench and gnocchi dough is rolled into a sausage and chopped into stubby pieces.

Cavatelli is also on the menu today and this ridged and slightly shell-like shape is made with a ricotta-based dough.

The room is buzzing as diners chat among themselves and to Peter as he rolls pasta and slings pans.

Our generously proportioned meals arrive and the gnocchi is light and not at all stodgy. A simple burnt butter sauce is made substantial with the addition of Casalinga pork and fennel sausages. It’s delicious and I have food envy until I dig into my bowl of fresh tagliatelle topped with a rich beef and pork ragu. It’s slightly under-seasoned for my taste but that’s easily remedied and I dig in with alacrity. The pasta is al dente and slightly thicker than store-bought tagliatelle while the ragu is rich without being heavy. There’s silence from our side of the room as we devour our meals.

As I delicately dab my mouth – once my companion points out that I have a ragu splatter or two – I spy a tray of tiramisu in the countertop fridge and, oh joy!, it’s ready to be eaten. This is, without doubt, one of the best tiramisu’s I’ve eaten. Sure, there’s coffee but it’s not overpowering and there’s a bit of sugar in the cocoa dusted on top – which can sometimes be too thick and bitter for me. Peter tells me that he makes a creamy toffee syrup to pour over the ladies finger biscuits in addition to soaking them in coffee.

I’d love to say that I’m tempted to try this at home – really, I’ll just be coming back here for seconds!