Inside, the dining room is simple and minimalist, dark tables and chairs against a polished concrete floor. It feels young and trendy, but there are families dining here, dates aplenty and friends catching up. It strikes me that there are a lot of staff for such a small establishment, at least six in the kitchen and six on the floor, bustling about at pace.

There's no menu here - not even a glimpse of one until the end of the meal, when they bring you a printed menu to take home. It's all a bit of a surprise - whether that's your thing or not.

"Just trust us", their website says. For $120, that's asking quite a lot of diners, but judging from the busy dining room diners are happy to oblige.

When you're asking for a no-menu level of trust, you really have to deliver, and that Pilot does. The food can't be faulted - it's finessed and imaginative, bringing together concepts from curry to Korean barbecue with ease.

The wine list is exciting, filled with lots of small producers who share Pilot's ethos. While there are fewer options by the glass, there are some interesting choices from boutique producers on the short one-page list.

A trio of snacks kicks us off, complete with warm towels to clean your hands with afterwards. Fermented flavours are woven throughout the menu, from the kefir butter that we start with through to the deep black vinegar in the braised cabbage towards the end.

The series of small-ish courses start with a delicate ocean trout served with sorrel and golden yellow gooseberries. Tarragon and pickled fennel weave an herbal, aniseedy undertone through the dish.

Then there's marron curry, which may seem like an anomaly here, but in true Pilot form, it's a modern version of. It hints at the flavours of a curry - coconut, lemongrass, galangal and a bit of heat from green peppercorn - all gently balanced and finished with green herb oil. Sea grass adds a satisfying, almost salty crunch bringing this modern green curry to life.

Superior soy chicken is like eating supercharged roast chicken. Chicken breast, creamed corn and crisp onion are surrounded in dark, rich soy gravy. It's comforting, like a hug - a cross between the homeliness of roast chicken and chicken and sweetcorn soup.

Alongside it, there's a gochujang barbecue chicken wing that's been deboned and stuffed with kimchi fried rice. It's an exciting little number, very Asian street food-esque, chilli and smoky charcoal flavours all brought together with the funkiness of kimchi.

There's a casual friendliness to the service here, which I like. It's unpretentious but attentive and staff are happy to have a chat about the inspiration for the dishes or show off some of their more funky wines.

I ask for a wine suggestion, but it's hard without knowing what courses are to come? What are the next two courses, I ask. The waiter tells me there's a pork dish to come.

Naturally, we're then a little surprised when a waiter says that the cabbage is our last course of the night.

The pickled and braised cabbage with black garlic and a black vinegar sauce is a strange way to end a meal, almost like a side.

Also, where was the pork that was mentioned, that we saw other tables getting? To make things more confusing, the table across from us is getting both pork and cabbage courses in alternate drop.

We're a little confused, but continue on. Pre-dessert is a pineapple and lime sorbet with marshmallow, kaffir lime and passionfruit.

They're intense flavours for a prelude to dessert, but refreshing in this hot summer weather. I'm not so much a fan of the "chocolate cherry kush" for dessert - the chocolate mousse is fine, I don't much care for the cooked cherry accompaniment.

I can't resist asking about the pork course that we seem to have missed, and the waiter explains that tables may get different courses, depending on what's available in the kitchen on the night.

Understandable, of course, but I was told that we would be getting pork, and made a wine choice based on that assumption.

I don't mind the lack of choice, or not knowing what's to come but I find it strange that diners on the same night, being charged the same amount might end up with different courses through no choice of their own (or be told a certain course is coming, when it's not).

That said, there's a lot to like here from the delicate, well-considered flavours on the menu to the eclectic wine list.

Two years in, Pilot's self-assuredness and low-key, casual approach to fine dining continues to impress. There's a certain charm to the ease with which Pilot plates up fine food. It feels like a special occasion place, but its low-key laidback vibes make it popular every night of the week.

Address: 1 Wakefield Gardens, Ainslie

Phone: 62574334

Hours: Wednesday to Sunday, from 6pm; Sunday long lunch, from noon

Owners: Dash Rumble and Ross McQuinn

Chefs: head chef Mal Hanslow, sous chef Barry Burger

Noise: Not too bad, but can sometimes be hard to hear

Vegetarian: Let the restaurant know at time of booking

Score: 16/20