Sergio's Brings Freewheeling 1990s Spirit to Melbourne's CBD Alongside Sibling Venue Roma

Roma refines Roman cooking; Sergio's loosens its collar.
The new diner and bar sits across the courtyard from its sibling venue at 120 Collins Street.
Mark

So what is Sergio's actually trying to be?

Mimi

A diner and bar at 120 Collins Street, next to Roma. Con Christopoulos and chef Matt Wilkinson want it to feel like 1990s Melbourne, when you could drift in and out of a place all day.

Mark

Why the name?

Mimi

It's after filmmaker Sergio Leone. The inspiration is post-fascist Rome, where restaurants were hangouts for artists, filmmakers and musicians.

Luke

Before we get carried away, the 1990s idea is Christopoulos's own view. The glory days claim is his opinion, not something the piece tests.

Mimi

Fair. It's his pitch, and he's the one making it. What the piece does show is the room and the menu.

Mark

And the food?

Mimi

Comfort with a European accent. Baked liver sausage, sardines in angry tomato sauce, chicken Kyiv, battered fish with pea tartare. Wilkinson draws on his English heritage and his Pope Joan days.

Mark

Where does music fit?

Mimi

Greg Molinaro has brought Hub 301 Records inside, and there's a custom sound system that can handle Coltrane, opera, breakbeat and Italian film soundtracks.

Luke

What don't we know? Prices, opening hours, and whether it draws the all-day crowd he describes. None of that is reported.

Mimi

True. He says it will keep evolving for a year or two, so even the room isn't final.

Mark

So the test is whether people return.

Mimi

That's his stated goal, with a low barrier to entry: a quick drink, coffee or a serious bottle of wine.

  • A restaurateur voices a complaint that Melbourne's dining scene has grown too rigid, with meticulous coffees, early kitchen closures and strict experiences draining away its spontaneity.
  • Sergio's arrives at 120 Collins Street across the courtyard from Roma, bringing gingham over white linen and a free-spirited menu into the CBD.
  • Chef Matt Wilkinson pulls comfort-food European dishes from his English roots and past kitchens, from liver sausage and angry tomato sardines to chicken Kyiv and Cherry Ripe gelato.
  • Music from Hub 301 Records and a custom sound system move the room from Coltrane to breakbeat, making sound a core part of the experience rather than an afterthought.
  • The fit-out is still being layered, and the room is expected to keep changing over the next year or two as it finds its footing.

On Collins Street, in the old commercial heart of Melbourne, a new diner and bar called Sergio's has opened beside its sibling Roma, offering a looser, warmer kind of gathering. Restaurateur Con Christopoulos and chef Matt Wilkinson have built it on a conviction that the city once had a generous, unhurried way of eating and talking, and that something of it has been worn thin by precision and rigid rules. Sergio's is their attempt to give that spirit a room again, one still being shaped as people sit down in it.

At 120 Collins Street in Melbourne's CBD, a new diner and bar called Sergio's has opened across the courtyard from Roma. Red-and-white gingham sits over crisp white tablecloths, bentwood chairs circle small tables, and warm globe lights fall on dark timber, greenery and a commanding portrait behind the bar.

Restaurateur Con Christopoulos has a complaint about the city's hospitality scene. Meticulously weighed coffees, early kitchen closures and increasingly rigid dining, he argues, have worn away the magic that once made Melbourne special. Sergio's, built with chef Matt Wilkinson, is his answer: a return to the freewheeling 1990s, when good food, great music and a little spontaneity were reason enough to stay out. "It was completely fluid," he says of that era.

The name nods to filmmaker Sergio Leone, and the venue draws on the creative freedom of post-fascist Rome, where restaurants were gathering places for artists and musicians. Where Roma is refined, Sergio's loosens its collar. Wilkinson's menu favours comfort, from baked liver sausage and sardines in "angry" tomato sauce to chicken Kyiv, battered fish and Cherry Ripe gelato. The drinks are playful too, with a grapefruit Bicycle Thief and a rhubarb Margarita.

Music is central. Greg Molinaro, a longtime friend of Christopoulos, has brought Hub 301 Records into the space, and the sound system can shift from John Coltrane to opera to breakbeat. The goal is a place people return to, for a quick drink or a long dinner. "We wanted a real low barrier to entry," Christopoulos says. The fit-out is still being layered, and the room is expected to keep changing for a year or two.

At 120 Collins Street in Melbourne's CBD, a new diner and bar called Sergio's has opened across the courtyard from its sibling venue, Roma. Inside, red-and-white gingham is laid over crisp white tablecloths, bentwood chairs circle small tables, and warm globe lighting falls on dark timber, greenery and a commanding portrait behind the bar.

The man behind it is restaurateur Con Christopoulos, who has a complaint about the current state of the city's hospitality scene. Meticulously weighed coffees, early kitchen closures and increasingly rigid dining experiences, he argues, have worn away some of the magic that once made Melbourne special. Sergio's is his answer, built with chef Matt Wilkinson, and it aims to bring back the freewheeling spirit of 1990s Melbourne, when good food, great music and a little spontaneity were reason enough to stay out.

"The 1990s were the glory days of Melbourne dining," Christopoulos says. In his telling, hospitality before the internet revolved around a regular place where you met people, swapped stories, had a drink, went to a movie and came back later. "It was completely fluid."

The name comes from Italian filmmaker Sergio Leone, and the venue takes its inspiration from the creative freedom of post-fascist Rome, where restaurants served as gathering places for artists, filmmakers and musicians. Christopoulos describes the interior as a personal, dreamlike space designed without too many rules. It is not finished: "We're still layering it as we speak," he says, adding that it will probably keep evolving for another year or two.

Where Roma focuses on refined Roman cooking, Sergio's loosens its collar. Wilkinson draws on his English heritage and his Pope Joan days for a menu that favours comfort over convention, with a distinctly European accent. Dishes include baked liver sausage with pancetta, sardines in "angry" tomato sauce, and spaghetti with what the menu confidently calls "the best red sauce". There are Tuscan sausages with onion gravy and mash, chicken Kyiv with coleslaw, battered fish with pea tartare, and pots of mussels served two ways. Dessert options are crème caramel, vanilla rice pudding or Cherry Ripe gelato from Roma Gelateria.

The drinks list is similarly playful. It features a grapefruit-laced Bicycle Thief, a rhubarb Margarita, a Banana Colada and a Sergio's Martini, while Australian wines are poured by the glass, carafe or bottle.

Music is built into the venue rather than added as an afterthought. Greg Molinaro, a long-time friend of Christopoulos and a Melbourne music stalwart, has brought Hub 301 Records into the space. A custom sound system can move from John Coltrane and opera to breakbeat and cinematic Italian soundtracks.

The aim, Christopoulos says, is a place people return to, whether for a quick drink, a proper dinner, a new record or a few unplanned hours. "We wanted a real low barrier to entry," he says. "You can come in for a quick drink, coffee or sit down for a bottle of serious wine." With the fit-out still being layered, the room people find now is expected to keep changing over the next year or two.

The 1990s were the glory days of Melbourne dining.
— Con Christopoulos
We wanted a real low barrier to entry.
— Con Christopoulos
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