After more than 20 years’ cooking in other people’s restaurants, including Mornington Peninsula destinations Paringa Estate and Pt. Leo Estate, chef Dylan Murray wanted to open his own place. His home suburb of Seaford, a beach pocket adjacent to Frankston, was – how do we say this nicely? – not quite popping off. It needed something, a cute little wine bar with good food, somewhere locals could count on for a quick bite or slap-up meal. Maybe he should do it himself?

When a spot seven minutes from home opened up, the stars seemed aligned: Murray took it. As he puzzled over a name, scrawling ideas on a large mirror, “Seafordian” came to mind. He typed it into Google, and it was corrected to Ordained. That sounded nice, part priestly, a bit cheeky. Ordain, the restaurant named by autocorrect, opened in the winter of 2023.

Ordain tries to do a lot, and most of it pays off. You could lunch on a barbecue bento box with teriyaki beef or local flathead. You can bring the dog and sit out front under the heaters for a post-beach-walk beer.

At night, narrow your decision-making by booking in for good-value steak, burger or pasta evenings. Or arrange a babysitter and head in for date night: the wine list has depth, range and value.

There’s a sensible leaning to the Mornington Peninsula, which starts just down the road. I was super impressed by the vertical tasting of Dromana’s Crittenden Estate premium wines: five small glasses with tasting notes for $75. It’s worth coming for that alone.

Cocktails are taken seriously but you can also stay lowbrow and have a red wine and Coke, a storied combo that’s known as the kalimotxo in Basque country and Jesus Juice in Argentina.

Fried cheese bake with persimmon.

The menu starts snacky. Fire-roasted chestnuts are a winter treat, and I went gooey for the fried cheese with baked persimmon.

There’s no going wrong with charcoal-sizzled scallops with miso butter but the hay-smoked pumpkin sounded better than it ate. The veg was soggy and jarred with the accompanying raw garlic pesto, melted taleggio cheese and candied seeds. It’s a dish that could be fine-tuned to brilliance.

Chicken was entirely redeeming, a triumph of good ideas, detailed preparation and fine a la minute cooking, leading to a juicy, crisp-skinned breast that paid off to the last bite.

The precision-built club sandwich.

There’s also evident care in such classics as the lunchtime club sandwich. Murray learnt to make it as an apprentice chef at the Westin Hotel, where he was drilled on getting the layers right so that every ingredient shone, and diners could actually eat the thing without it turning into a squishy mess. It’s also good to know that the chicken part of the sanger is harvested from offcuts from the dinner-menu breast.

Service is amenable rather than polished (understandable in a 30-seat restaurant 50 kilometres from the city) and doesn’t jar with the neighbourly feel. Cookbooks are dotted around the room, not just as a pointer to Murray’s interests but also as an invitation to jump on a culinary learning journey.

One time, a customer was flicking through Cuisine du Temps, a 2010 book by legendary local French chef Jacques Reymond.

“Have you made this mussels and coriander dish?” they asked Murray. “Not yet,” he answered. But he sourced mussels from nearby Flinders and served the dish soon after – a lovely interweaving of heritage and community.

Juicy, crisp-skinned chicken breast.

It isn’t easy to run a small, independent restaurant. What I love about Ordain is that it looks towards the inner city and tries to give Seaford stuff it’s missing out on. It also glances further out to the peninsula’s wineries and produce, offering paddock-to-plate experiences in the ’burbs. It’s not perfect but it’s ambitious and generous, the kind of place you’d hope the community would meet more than halfway.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.