By Marie-Antoinette Issa.
There are places where time behaves differently. Where the sun feels slower, the breeze carries the scent of ripening fruit and the afternoon stretches out like a silk ribbon. On a rolling patch of the Mornington Peninsula, Red Hill Estate has created one of those escapes.
A space for lingering over lunch under the open sky, for raising glasses rather than rushing through courses, for letting conversation meander as freely as the vines surrounding you. It is called Gigi’s Piazza and it is the closest thing to Italian Summer without crossing hemispheres.
Positioned on the lawn beside the restaurant’s glass-walled conservatory, the newly opened outdoor dining destination invites guests to experience the pleasures Italians have long mastered. Staying present. Eating slowly. Celebrating the moment and the company. Here, the table is a starting point, not a finish line.
Gigi’s Piazza is not about theatrics or ceremony. There are no tasting menus or tightly timed seatings. Instead, its picnic-style menu arrives like an affectionate gesture from someone who grew up cooking with their Nonna.
Arancini in golden coats. Antipasto assembled with instinctive generosity. Lasagne layered to comfort. Focaccia still warm from the oven. Open calzone and bowls of pasta that do not require explanation or elevation, just appetite. Salads that speak of the season and a tiramisu that lingers long after the last spoonful like a memory you are not quite ready to let go of.
The food is prepared in the nearby cottage kitchen, an intimacy that translates to the palate. It tastes like it was made for you, not for the menu. Crowd favourites from Red Hill Estate pour by the glass including rosé, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay and brand-new sparkling Blanc de Blancs. For those not drinking, there are non-alcoholic Spritzes that promise refreshment without compromise. Then there is the Limoncello Spritz, served by the carafe, the drink that seems designed specifically for sunlight.
General Manager Dominic Fabrizio describes it as the truest expression of dolce vita and you can see why. The ethos here is not aspirational, it is instinctual. It is the kind of meal that feels less like a booking and more like an invitation.
No one does long lunches quite like the Italians. Hours spent grazing and laughing, passing plates between hands, pausing only to refill the glass or recast a story. Gigi’s Piazza channels that spirit without pretending to be somewhere it is not. It celebrates its Australian setting but leans into the Italian philosophy of dining as an act of connection.
Every detail has been designed to dissolve stress rather than create structure. Guests order via QR code at their table which means no waving at passing staff or breaking conversation to queue. There are lawn games like giant Jenga and hoopla for families or simply those who believe that lunch is not something that should finish before you have played something. Dogs are welcome on a lead and the atmosphere encourages people to settle in rather than eat and leave.
The capacity is 120 but the space feels deliberately expansive. There is room to breathe, to stretch, to watch the way light shifts across the vines. On fine days, you can easily forget the world beyond the property line. On windy afternoons or when rain arrives, the Piazza closes, a reminder that nature dictates the rhythm here, not reservation times.
Ideal for couples seeking a slower kind of afternoon, for groups celebrating without someone assigned to watch the clock, for families who prefer their Sundays stretched wide and unhurried. The kind of place where you might have come for an hour and found yourself still there three hours later, debating whether to order another carafe or go straight to tiramisu, eventually deciding to do both.
This is food best experienced slowly and with people who understand that the table is where the best parts of life reveal themselves. It is a seasonal offering and undoubtedly one that will define the warmer months on the Peninsula. A must-visit not because it has launched with fanfare but because it offers something that cannot be forced. Ease.
At Gigi’s Piazza, lunch is no longer just a meal. It is a reminder. To sip not swallow. To savour not speed. To sit long enough to feel the shift from afternoon into evening. Summer, recalibrated through an Italian lens and served with a side of Red Hill charm.
Walk in. Relax. Let the day take its time.
