Artisan Focacceria

230 Palmer Street, Darlinghurst
Monday to Friday, 7:30am - 3:30pm; Saturdays, 8:30am - 3:00pm

It's strange that, despite my (what I thought was an) avoidance of 'Italian' food in Sydney, we have been predominately reviewing places which specialise in Italian cuisine. This is a problem and I now realise that my dislike for the said cuisine outside my own home is reasonably unfounded. The primary reason I resent having Italian food at restaurants or cafés other than those I trust is the blatant disregard for authenticity. Too much, in this town, is a toasted sandwich deemed a "focaccia", packet spaghetti and melted Kraft cheese termed "fettucine carbonara", and Dominoes seen as a "pizza". Urgh. Many so-called 'cooks' lie and cheat.

So I thank the merry immortals that places like Artisan Focacceria exist. This is what every food house should be aiming to be. No exceptions. I have learnt, say, within the past couple of years, that anything with the word 'artisan' somewhere in their name or slogan (I am looking at you Sonoma, you bewitching bastards) will probably transcend anything you've ever known.
The authenticity part probably comes down to the fact that the owners are actually Italian. This helps! Despite the enticing menu that reaches from floor to ceiling we shall start with the cawfee. This place has apparently been the stepping stone to many great baristas that abound in Sydney. The coffee here is somewhat of the fantastic. Do not deny! A smooth blend coupled with baristas who know what they want from their shots, I can totally deal with having my macchiato here.
Now: the foccacias of artisanery. Are these people actually serious?! Home-made salami, artichoke, shaved parmesan, vine-ripened tomato, provolone, basil mayonnaise, asiago, baby spinach, olives, crumbed chicken breast, prosciutto, and home-preserved eggplant. If any of these ingredients sound good in combination on some fun-lovin' foccacia then you must come here. Note that the fillings can also be chosen to come wrapped in Turkish bread and panini at request. They usually have recommendations for which breadness for what ripieno, and the Panini con Zucca e Ricotta - read: roasted pumpkin, ricotta, figs and walnuts - goes perfectly with the sourdough roll it is paired with. Mmm. Figs. With all this said and done, the Foccacia con Maile is the absolute stand-out for me. Slow roasted shoulder of pork, rocket, lemon and green chilli. Need I say more?! By the amount I told of the rave party in my mouth with each bite of this incredible concoction, a friend of the vegetarian kind who accompanied us even had to have one (maybe even two?!) bite/s to try. I think even she was slightly saddened by her practical ethics long lived by with the taste of nectar so sweet...

I am sure that there is some sort of religion behind this place and I am willing and ready to join.


Edit: Excuse the quality of the photos posted. I think I may have been a little excited about the eating of this goodness and subsequently got a severe bout of 'shivering with anticipation'. You people must understand how hard it is to get decent camera shots for this blag whilst:
a/ not looking like a completely obsessed fool (probably too late with the face);
b/ not totally forgetting that devouring edibles before shots doesn't really work for visuals on a food blog; and,
c/ not passing out from the utter insanity of some foodhouses and the willingness to (often) kill for the comestibles they serve.
Just sayin'.

Some things are hard to take seriously. For instance, a virtuoso kazoo-ist. Or perhaps, the world champion of hop-scotch. Some things are so simple that it seems impossible to take it seriously.

Artisan Focacceria take something very simple, very seriously. A sandwich. You take two pieces of bread, and you hold some stuff inside with said bread, so you can eat it conveniently. How hard could it be? More importantly, how good could it be?
Firstly, the coffee here is excellent. Using the better-than-solid Di Lorenzo, the only brand of coffee that has consistently signified a consistently better-than-average Barista as well as a high-quality blend, Artisan Focacceria make damned good coffee. Scott Callaghan and Jack Hanna are former employees, Barista champions both, as well as Alex Kum, now at Mecca Espresso. One of the few places where you can expect a better coffee.
But the focaccia? It's absurdly good. They use good bread, quality ingredients, and then offer them to you in traditional and creative combinations. My idea of a good sandwich have been altered irreparably by the green chilli and pork shoulder focaccia I tried there, and the other items on the menu have never disappointed. Satisfying, honest and delicious. It seems that in a perfect world, this would be the minimum quality that food would need to meet.
But we don't live in a perfect world. This place is exceptional. And mmm, sandwich times await you. You'll be forced to take it seriously, regardless of your scepticism. It certainly made a believer out of me.

Gelatomassi

262 King Street, Newtown

Apparently: from all hours of the day to all hours of the night

Put the paintbrush down. There is no time for shaving your moustache. This is not the time to feed the hamsters. Come with me now, on a journey through time and space. Come with me now, to the land of wondrous rolling mountains of nutty creaminess, fruity lusciousness...and plains of white platters. Take your serve to a cone. A waffle cone, to be exact!

Gelato is a staple. Just like the Koreans have their rice, the Italians have their pasta and the Russians have their Vodka, I can has my gelato. Having refined the palate for some years, I know a good gelato when I taste one. Gelatomassi produces flavours that have just the right consistency and textures, they use actual ingredients so the colours are gorgeously natural, and they just taste good!

It was this particular night that there were, with chance, four of us to spare. What a perfect number for a plate of eight flavours! ...despite this convenience, we all know that one of us could quite easily consume it by their lonesome. Say no more... What I will expand on, though, are the flavours. After some deliberation (come on! 'tis to be expected with the amount of choices!) it was decided that the line of eight would consist of the following: Apple, deliciously tart; Ferrero Rocher chocolate, smooth and dark; panna cotta, a light complimentary flavour that always pleases; coconut, rich and velvety; apple crumble, creamed-down tang with crunchiness; strawberry and cream, previously untried but proved to delight with its yoghurty background; pistachio, a heavy competitor in many of this city's (and other's too!) top gelaterias (NB: among other things, this and hazelnut are the base flavours in my assessment criteria...it's complicated!); and, I think, nougat! SUPERTASTERNAUT. Not only does this let you try many flavours at once, it also allows for combination of flavours - who woulda thunk it!? Par exemple: did you know that apple and coconut make for some refreshing fun? Similarly, a strawberry and cream covered apple crumble bite can send squeals of delight into a grown man's oesophagus? Try it. Nevertheless, the gelato here is invariably sweet without being sickly, tasty whilst still retaining the extraordinary naturalness of each of it's individual flavours, and just all 'round super. C'est super cool, even!
Apart from such authenticity in the area of munchity yum, the service here is the typical friendliness of Italians. The owner is an absolute character, maybe one of an acquired taste in his manner of serving, but, at the heart, a guy who genuinely wants his product to be adored and consumed with appreciation; his employees are usually equally as cheerful to deal with aswell, which is nice. Welcoming to the utmost, whether you come for a quick morning fix before classes (ah, these are the days), afternoon delights, or bring people en masse at midnight post-gig for a platter to share, I always leave in a daze of deliciousness.

Do yourself a massive flavour (I'm so sorry about that...maybe I should go to sundae school for being so cone-headed) and just go there. Right now! Please.

Disclaimer: Gelato is an addictive substance. It gives users somewhat of a high, but intervention is not ever recommended for those who have already sold their soul for the sweet, sweet creamin... Do not ever deny them what they need most. There is no way out for these people once the good stuff has passed their lips. Consult your local gelateria for more information.

Sometimes, we visit places and we marvel at how delicious everything is. Meat is garnished with sauces, ordinary vegetables become exotic salads and we are presented with stunning examples of what can be achieved with roasted coffee beans, milk and a tremendous amount of elbow grease. However, at it's core we understand how these feats are achieved. You cook it... right. You combine it... right. Or something.

However if you present me with Apple Crumble flavoured gelato, you better watch your motherflippin' backs because a witch hunt is about to begin.

Now, I consider myself a rational man. I don't believe in conspiracies, I'm not particularly superstitious, and the only faith I have is in rational thought. I don't believe that a shadowy group can run the world if high-ranking members of government can't get their toes sucked by a hooker without it leaking to the news the next morning. I trust firmly in logic, evidence and intellectual rigour.

So when I say to you that I am certain that the Gelatomassi is run by Wizards who are practising their mystical alchemy and transmutation to create gelato, know that I employ no rhetoric, nor exaggeration of the mystical sect that I am reporting.

EVIDENCE:

• If the aforementioned Apple Crumble gelato isn't crazy enough to blow your mind, how about flavours like Panna Cotta and Date-Pudding?
• The white aprons they wear could perhaps actually be capes worn on the front, capes that could perhaps befit WIZARDS?!
• They have a nice range of flavours, that are obviously worked on with dilligence. Each flavour has a suprisingly nice depth which means that I continually want to come back and have more. The point that I'm making here is that it's magically delicious. and bewitching.
  
• The service here is excellent. Although of the loud and in your face variety, it gives a character to the place that is difficult to capture. Could be hex-related, perhaps.
• Gelatomassi kinda sounds like Illuminati.

So there's the verdict. If you're interested in delicious cold things that become liquid when you apply heat to them, gelatomassi is untopped for me in the city. Bar Italia has a strong case, as does the gelateria in Darlinghurst, but come on.

Wizards mang.

Oscillate Wildly

275 Australia Street, Newtown
Tuesday - Saturday, 6pm - 10pm

I absolutely love Oscar Wilde. 'Tis a pity he has departed this world for quite some time now... And the main trouble here is that I immediately love anyone who references him or his works or his delightfully piquant wit. Bless their dear souls!

Having heard quite a deal about this restaurant previous to our arrival - and being made to bide one's time by weeping in my dreams about deliciousness for some goodly time on a waiting list - I had more than high expectations. Finally the day was to come. Finally we were to taste the splendours of the up-and-coming (or perhaps, more accurately, already made) Chef Daniel Puskas so anticipated. As a side note this 23 year-old has already worked in some absolute top locations - including doing an apprenticeship at Tetsuya's, which he then decided to do an overseas stint at Zuma's in London, that being tripped back home to The Boathouse on Blackwattle Bay in Glebe, and then he worked at Marque in Surry Hills - most of which are on my "to visit" list (prepare yeselves for these epics...when some funds are acquired once I rob a bank/commit some other legal sin).
Having won awards and multiple other accolades from critics, including Young Chef of the Year for 2007, he has decided to set up a small restaurant in Newtown of his own, which, by and large, has a monthly menu turn-around. And by small, I really mean tiny. Lilliputian, in fact. An old barber's shoppe, if I remember correctly, this quaint space is warm, cosy and has a maximum of about 12 tables. Maximum. Given that we weren't prepared to wait more than the minimum of two months, we were squeezed in at an early sitting. Being the first ones there we promptly ordered that which pleased our mind's tastes and then prepared ourselves for the deliciousness to arrive whilst we nibbled on some tasty sourdough bread and butter.
And then some art arrived to the table. And it smelt fabulous. Darling. Having chosen rare succulent little pieces of lamb fillet encrusted with muesli for my entrée, I took great caution in ruining the composition and textures of the rhubarb and beetroot paste and the tangy dried apricot spots. This is what is termed 'molecular gastronomy' and, although the term is slightly loaded in terms of the science involved, makes for a meal that is infused with such care and precision that one explores each bite and unpacks the plate as one does a philosophy paper or a great work of literature. It also makes for some great guilt (a Jewish mother would be proud) in destroying what was previously a masterpiece in modern design where one feels almost obliged not to touch it. But, as you can imagine, it was. Very much so.
And then the chicken. How can chicken be that good, you ask? It can be amazing, I answer. Seemingly wrapped in a dense roll and then cut into compact cylinders, the tender meat was served with goat's milk yoghurt, finely chopped hazelnuts, poached rhubarb, and drizzled with a mild balsamic of sorts. Heavenly juicy the combination of the flavours, again, provided the mouth with a canvas of dynamism and wonder. Dessert was to be had in the form of a divine slice of nutty panna cotta goodness sat in a small puddle of a liquor cream. The texture of the top layer was an odd gelatine of dark chocolate with a hint of something else undefinable. Bizarre on it's own, it nevertheless worked wonders with the paradise of thick white chocolate paste which topped it in a swirled pyramid. Who can resist anything sprinkled with almonds!?
Petite portions and artistically presented - suffice to say, the food is very much Japanese influenced - the commitment to consistently amazing quality and variation is evident. The only downside, which will make me reconsider returning some time soon, was the service. In such a place as Sydney - where the food choices are many, wide and varying - it is a very bad turn not to provide the utmost for every facet of a diner's experience. Being, what I would like to think, very understanding clients we were not expecting to stay longer than what an early sitting would normally be. But being literally rushed out by the ill-mannered waitress when our desserts were barely whisked away is not a pleasant feeling. This may have been a one-off occurrence, and I sincerely hope for the kitchen's sake it was, however the fullness of the evening at Oscillate Wildly was severely cut short of incredible. Not wanting to end on a bad note, it was probably only fantastic.

If you plan to come here be prepared to wait a while. Months, even.

Finally walking in to Oscillate Wildly was exciting. Considering that we had waited almost 2 months since booking, my mouth was watering as I walked in through the door.

On paper, this sounded like my ideal restaurant. Located in Newtown, an area with which I'm familiar, it promised inventive cuisine, quirky but intimate settings and a reasonable price tag. The fact that they were using a Smiths reference as the name of the restaurant (which in turn references all around good guy, Oscar Wilde!) was only a ridiculously awesome bonus.

Now there are some disclaimers to make at this point. Yes, we accepted a booking for an early time. I understand that this implies that we are not expected to sit and laugh the night away, but rather to leave in order to accommodate the next booking. However, it doesn't mean that we want to be made to feel hurried and somewhat unloved. The service here seemed somewhat pleasant, but the overriding sense of haste was not.

I'm still trying to decide if the food tasted better than it looked. As you can tell by the photos the food was gorgeous, and it was clearly evident that a lot of attention had gone in to the visuals of the dish. My entrée, the scallop towers, were just as delicious as they look, and I was delighted to find that this was so. Nice and delicate, with a nice full flavour, it whet my appetite for some deer flesh!
The Mandagery Creek Venison was cooked to perfection, and served with a mash or "soil" that was intensely delicious. I realise that if I succeeded in describing how delicious this food was to you, many of the friends who read this dear blog may drown in their own saliva, and thus drastically reduce our readership of our blog, and I have decided not to try. Just know that it was delicious, up there with any meal I've ever had.
For desert I indulged myself in some cheese, which was accompanied with a wine glaze that went with the cheese delightfully. Having had some Saint Agur the night before, a deliciously smooth blue, I couldn't resist the allure of some more cheese, and they did not disappoint. A hard goats cheese and a softer cheese both were reasonably mild without being dull, and finished the meal off nicely.
Too bad about the service. Otherwise, this would be an automatic location to visit many, many times in my lifetime. At the moment, I'm not even sure if I want to revisit the restaurant, with so much delicious abounding in Sydney, and the dining experience that we experienced.