Spring is my favourite season, especially in Victoria, for many reasons. Winters are hard and too long, and even though the cold comes back five or six times as spring tries to break through, the promise of warmth and light is intoxicating. The scent of jasmine in the air, the tiny green leaves on the trees and the explosion of wattle all feel like pure magic.

From a food standpoint, it’s my favourite season, too, and I spend most of my spare time during early spring wandering through the bush looking for morel mushrooms.

Did you know Australia has its own distinct variety of morel – Morchella australiana – which was only formally identified in 2014? Having eaten morels all over the world, I can tell you that this Australian variety of fungi, which are hard to find and therefore expensive, are some of the tastiest, earthiest, most wonderful mushrooms anywhere.

My favourite way to eat them? Sauteed and piled on toast, although it’s uncommon that a foraging trip yields enough mushrooms to use them in this way without feeling selfish – I’m much more often tossing them through pasta, or stirring them into risotto.

Which is why I was so delighted to find morels on toast ($22) on the menu at No. 7 – a five-year-old restaurant directly opposite Four Pillars distillery in Healesville. Not only that but the serving was generous, buttery, foresty, meaty – everything you want from morels. It’s a dish you’re unlikely to get unless you’re a successful forager, and even then, it’s a rare treat.

When No. 7 opened in 2019, its aim was ambitious. Owned by the Frazer family (who also own Stones of the Yarra Valley and Meletos), it’s housed in a renovated former cabinet-making factory. The restaurant was accompanied by an urban winery where young winemakers were invited to launch their labels.

As with so many great ideas, I’m assuming the pandemic took a toll on that side of the project, and these days it functions only as a traditional restaurant.

The big airy space has impossibly high ceilings adorned with chandeliers, walls covered in eclectic art, and the daily menu, from chef Joel Bowers, scrawled on a blackboard.

As evidenced by the morels, Bowers’ focus is on seasonality and purity of flavour. Asparagus ($15) is lightly blanched and given creamy company in the form of mozzarella. Less common fish varieties such as trumpeter ($22) are used for crudo, served in a drizzle of light green gazpacho with celery and pistachio.

Duck breast ($23) is cooked to a rosy medium, then sliced and stacked in a neat line, with juicy mandarin separating the pieces. It’s a simple but lovely presentation, allowing the duck to shine without distraction.

A large hunk of Cape Grim short rib ($42) was a bit busier, but no less delicious. Cooked until falling-apart tender, and topped with a flurry of peas, broad beans and pistachio, it was somehow both rich and light, the deep green of the toppings giving the beef the exact foil needed.

On a recent Saturday night, the entire room was serviced by one dude, who acted as host, waiter and bartender, and although this made for some gaps between drinks (a tight wine list focusing on organic Victorian producers, plus decent cocktails), he handled it with remarkable poise. I assume the staff expands during the summer months when tourism picks up.

By the time this goes to press, the morels may be long gone – part of their magic is their fleeting availability. But I have great faith in Bowers and his team to continue delivering a casual but elegant atmosphere, good service, and clear, bright flavours through all of the seasons.