It helps that McIntyre has enlisted a decent barista in Bridget Amore and support in the kitchen from Daniella Italiano and Jane Selman, with whom he worked at Il Bacaro and The Latin respectively. It also helps that in an age where the CBD is awash with places serving imported assembly food, almost everything here is made in-house, from the pies and the mushroom tart with its parmesan and cracked pepper pastry to the cakes and little biscotti served with the Zenith blend Gravity coffee. Cooking pastas and risotti to order, like their chicken, sage and pumpkin one, might seem bad business for the time-poor lunch trade, but the benefits are evident in the deliciously gooey result and the repeat business. The menu is constantly changing, but what we've tried has generally been ideal lunch fare. The flavors are clean, as in the salsa of skinned red capsicum and tomato on chicken patties popping with fresh corn kernels, or comforting, like the thin slab of salmon on a rich olive mash enlivened by a couple of roast tomatoes.
Faults are few.
A plate of salmon and thick horseradish cream was let down by a ricotta and herb pancake that was more like a stolid cake, but it was more than made up for by brisk service. A word of praise, too, for architect Patrick Ng who has managed to give the two-tier space a utilitarian feel lifted with reassuringly natural materials such as the shapely wooden chairs, glass balcony and fat, round, wooden handrails. It's also one of the best-lit cafes in Melbourne. Wooden shelving displays of silver bags of coffee, glistening glasses and tins of T2 tea are highlighted with backlit white plastic panels, while a concentration of wire-strung halogen downlights draw the eye to a bulging display case full of pizza, panini, salads and tarts. If ever you needed proof of the aphorism that running a restaurant is not a big thing but a thousand little things, then Fare Exchange could be it.