Sooshi Mango’s Johnny, Vince & Sam’s Brings Big Laughs and Bigger Feeds to Carlton

Created by comedy trio Sooshi Mango, this Italian-Australian throwback on Lygon Street is a physical extension of their much-loved characters. But rather than a gimmick, it’s a warm and cheeky tribute to the homes many of us grew up in or visited where plastic tablecloths covered every surface, wine glasses were thick and stubby, and there was always a vase in the middle of the table, no matter what.

Walk in and it’s like stepping into a 1970s time capsule. The kind with crocheted doilies, lace runners, wall-to-wall family portraits and a rotary phone perched next to a fake flower arrangement. The interior deserves its own write-up. It’s wild, nostalgic, and unnervingly accurate. Not in a try-hard, Pinterest kind of way, but in a “I swear my uncle still has this exact lamp” kind of way.

This could have easily gone the parody route. A few fake accents, some overcooked pasta, call it a day. But what makes Johnny, Vince & Sam’s genuinely interesting is how much heart it brings to the table. The humour is front and centre, but so is the food.

Award-winning chef Johnny Di Francesco (of 400 Gradi) has crafted a menu that delivers big on comfort and technique. Sure, the dish names are hilarious: Break’a My Balls Pizza, You Like’a My Salami, and a cheeky Farkena hidden in the fine print but the food isn’t playing around.

We tried the My Mutha’s Pasta Al Forno, a bubbling tray of baked conchiglioni stuffed with nduja and ricotta, swimming in rich tomato sugo and finished with grana padano and basil. It was everything you want in baked pasta: spicy, creamy, generous and familiar. The Gran Salsiccia pizza came topped with pork and fennel sausage, grana padano cream, mozzarella, cime di rapa and chilli, all layered onto a golden, crisp base with the right amount of chew.

The Bisteca brought it home. A properly charred ribeye served simply with a radicchio, fennel and orange salad that added brightness without getting in the way. Dessert was a classic tiramisu, and it did exactly what it needed to do. No theatrics, no deconstruction. Just balance, texture and depth.

Johnny, Vince & Sam’s is loud, funny and wildly nostalgic, but it’s not relying on the joke to carry it. There’s craft behind the chaos. And for all the laughs, it might just serve some of the most satisfying Italian in the neighbourhood.