The suburb has a long and storied history of Italians setting up shop. But Super Norma writes a new chapter with its modern sensibility, and affordability, with serves starting at $16.
Italian$
One of the more underappreciated genres of restaurant is the one that is, above all, useful. As pleasurable as a tasting menu full of rich dishes might be, it’s unlikely to fit into your life in a meaningful way with any regularity. Many of us are more attached to our neighbourhood pub than we are to the special occasion restaurant four doors up – utility trumps luxury nine times out of 10.
The small space at 140 Rathdowne Street in Carlton has long been engineered for utility. Pre-pandemic, it was a cafe called Tanaka. When lockdowns hit, Tanaka was one of many Melbourne hospitality venues that morphed according to the needs of its neighbourhood. It became a market, a direct farm-to-consumer vegie box operation, a community hub for running clubs (when they were allowed), and more.
In 2022, the business outgrew the small space and moved up the block, rebranding as Fenton Farmhouse, but eventually leased the original Tanaka space to a couple of friends for a three-month pop-up.
Marco Salzano and Luca Muscato, both recent transplants from southern Italy, met in Melbourne and were already collaborating (along with a third friend) as Disco Mediterranea, a “creative collective” that revolves around Mediterranean music and culture.
When I first walked past Super Norma, I snapped a photo of the sign and sent it to a colleague, wondering if they were going to get sued by Andrew McConnell; the name is only one letter off his Asian canteen, Supernormal. (Apparently McConnell has better things to do.)
But the wordplay also refers to one of the signature dishes served by Salzano and Muscato: pasta alla Norma, a sticky eggplant and tomato situation that has found a place on my regular dining rotation as a weeknight meal when I don’t feel like cooking.
I am not the only person who has come to rely on these dudes and their pasta – the popularity of Super Norma turned the three-month pop-up into a fixture of the neighbourhood.
The food offering is simple: pasta and sauce; one type of the former, many types of the latter. I’ve always contended that fat rigatoni is the best of the dried pastas, and it’s what they use here, cooked slightly al dente. Pastas start at $16; the special of the day is the blow-out item at $32. Most sauces are southern Italian; a textbook burro cacio e pepe is as far north as they get.
Part of why I like Super Norma is because the food tastes a lot like something I would cook. Sometimes I just want someone else to do it.
I’ve had the odd dish that didn’t work. The current seasonal offering advertises itself as a sauce made of creamed Jerusalem artichokes and celeriac with sage and pancetta, but either someone swapped out the meat or they’ve found a pancetta that’s very unusual. It was wildly spicy and completely overwhelmed the otherwise delicate dish.
There are occasionally entree-like specials, but often caprese salad and garlic bread are the only non-pasta options.
The most laborious dish on the menu is also one of the best. Ragu Napoletano is a rich, complex, multi-meat sauce that’s cooked for seven hours with tomato and herbs. But even this tastes like something someone’s grandma made, or a dish by that home cook you know who goes a little above and beyond but has no delusions of grandeur. In fact, part of why I like Super Norma is because the food tastes a lot like something I would cook. Sometimes I just want someone else to do it.
And sometimes I just want a $10 negroni, or to perch on a stool in a tiny room and listen to good Italian disco from a turntable and chat to the chefs while they cook. Salzano and Muscato have an infectious sense of joy and unserious style – until recently, Salzano was sporting a perfect Barry Gibb look – and the place is festooned with nonna-chic tchotchkes along with pop culture and Italian tourism ephemera. The side of the combi oven on the back counter is plastered with postcards, photos, and a Garfield sock held on with a magnet.
Apart from its usefulness and effervescence, Super Norma tells a story about the unlikely strategies that can make for successful hospitality businesses at a time when those two words – “successful” and “hospitality” – seem diametrically opposed.
The offering is extremely limited, meaning the team only has to do a few things well. The space is tiny, so they’ve focused on a product that lends itself to takeaway (in fact, pastas are served in takeaway boxes, even for customers who are dining in). There’s a strong focus on community and collaboration, especially on Friday nights when Fenton opens its doors to Super Norma customers, providing more seating (and toilets), good music and bargain drinks, turning the two operations into a block party of sorts.
The history of Italians moving to Melbourne and making Carlton more delicious, friendly and fun is long and storied. Super Norma puts a decidedly modern spin on the Italy-to-Melbourne pipeline, and does it effortlessly. It’s not a destination, or a revelation, or anything but a couple of dudes making their neighbourhood a better, happier, more user-friendly place to live. Isn’t that why we live where we do? Isn’t that what really matters?
The low-down
Atmosphere: A party in nonna’s tiny kitchen, garnished with a fistful of funk
Go-to dishes: Super Norma ($23); cacio e pepe ($20); ragu Napoletano ($28).
Drinks: $10 negronis, sangiovese on tap, two or three other Italian wines by the glass and bottle
Cost: About $50 for two, excluding drinks
Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.
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