CoffYeFood

aiiiiieeeeeee!! it is a hiatus!

2007-11-16T21:19:00.000+11:00

BAI.

We are off to the land of (South) Korea for about two-and-a-half months! Wheeeeee!

Have fun reading and re-reading our archives!

Our hiatus will be stoppededed at the end of January or startish of February...depending on how lazy we are!

MUCH BAI!

Bourke Street Bakery

2007-10-13T21:12:00.000+10:00

Corner Bourke and Devonshire Street, Surry Hills
or
130 on Broadway, Broadway
Tuesday - Friday, 7am-6pm; Saturday - Sunday, 8am-5pm

Hurr hurr...how ye cannae go a day or so without a wee pastry or hot breadsies is beyond my recognition. Argch.

Yes, yes. Pastries are not exactly the most Scottish of things...but perhaps you should consider that I was speaking in Piratish. No but seriously, how can you not eat something as delicious as that which is baked at Bourke Street Bakery? Even with my (often quite severe) intolerance to products with gluten involved I still manage to hit this place up more often than should probably be.
There are two stores. The original store, in the good land that is Slurry Hills, now bakes all the bread, and the store on Broadway takes care of the pastries. I imagine that they do swapsies some time in the early hours of the morning. The thing with Bourke Street Bakery is the range. There are the few select bakeries in Sydney that do absolutely amazing bread. Bourke Street does this, and has a variety of goods which will blow you out of this world like someone with a really huge fan. There are reportedly nine types of sourdough breads, including a grape schiacciata (basically like a foccacia), an olive-oil bread topped with crushed red grapes and cooked with rosemary, another with cherry tomato, roast garlic and basil, or walnut. Prepare yourself also for the majesty that is the daily rotation of fruit breads, like that being hazelnut and raisin or apple and oat. Seven different fruit breads...can life get any better? No but, actually.
The pastries are brilliant. I know it seems that most of the posts we do, we do with unadulterated passion and an overzealousness...but, it really is that most of these places we do review are just that good. Keep in mind that this is not necessarily a blag that pontificates on everything we do and eat - we reserve our words for that which is truly awesome. So, yerr. Pastries. Here they are golden, cooked really well, and retain a rustic, almost caramelised, texture and taste. Oh, man, they are made of delicious. The pistachio and ginger brulée tart is sensational. So. Gorram. Rich. The centre is creamy as hell, and the burnt toffee is satisfyingly crunchy. Go little green pistachio men (pieces), go! The croissants are flippin' nice, too!
The goods are honest and simple. Nothing is prettied up for image purposes, so the bulk of the baker's concentration goes into getting the goods to taste amazing. I can totally deal with that. I can also deal with them cramming their windows with their bakednosities, the flour heaving itself to the upper atmosphere of the store as everything is shifted around and into nice brown paper bags. And don't even get me started on the huge rusted old Boulangerie sign out front of the Slurry story; a relic probably bought in from Paris.
Quality pastries for the utmost win. Ladies.

2007-10-13T17:06:00.000+10:00

I was kind of disappointed to learn that Boulangerie simply meant bakery. The beautiful sign outside Bourke Street Bakery promises so much more.

We arrived there, after getting a tad lost and wandering down the wrong end of Bourke Street, to be greeted by a massive queue out the door. It was obvious that this old school looking place had its fair share of fans. They have delicious breads of the sourdough variety, with that delicious hard crust and soft interior combo that combines to make the perfect loaf.
The best thing about this place is the creativity of it's menu. Judging purely by taste, both Sonoma, Brasserie Bread and the even more difficult to find La Tartine pump our superior bread. But picking between these four is like grumbling because you got a million dollars and not a million and one. What sets Bourke Street apart is that they do things like Pistachio and Rhubarb tarts, Praline twists and some more exotic loaves, as well as a menu that does change periodically.
Also, they use Single Origin coffee, which means that if the Barista is doing his job, you should get damned good coffee too.

You can't really ever expect to get a seat here, considering they have about three. But that just motivates you to buy tonnes of bread (literally) and eat it at your homestead. Pair it with some good jam, or a good slather of butter and you have yourself a winner.
This place is the definition of rad. I'm very glad that there's the store so close to Sydney University.

La Disfida

2007-09-28T23:58:00.000+10:00

109 Ramsay Street, Haberfield
Tuesday - Sunday, 6pm - 10.30pm

Hands down, this is the best pizza in Sydney.

I usually weigh my opinions on food-houses based on more than just the food and it's quality, such as service and atmosphere, however it testifies to La Disfida's phenomenon that this place can still stand to completely ignore those other factors.

Despite my patronage for some goodly time, and I really mean goodly, there is barely a smile when I traverse their entrance, nor even a polite greeting to speak of. I have to say, without stereotyping too much, it is very typical of the area. If you are not in with speaking about the new bambini or gossiping about which landlord is going to buy the business due up for sale in seven months (yeah, it's a very 'indie' crowd), prepare to be rightfully ignored. And y'know what, it really ain't that bad. Even with my connections in both the area and with the owners I still barely manage to dredge any recognition from their faces.

Now that I have filled up my little complaints box, my true love for the food here shall come to be. Now. Rino Lattanzio knows what the hell should be done with dough and a few quality ingredients. The woodfire oven stands towards the back and at the end of the length of counter that strides across the first room. The external bricks are toasty warm and the small cracks of timber and burning embers fill the lulls in the hubbub of conversation around. They have made the relatively recent amendment to the restaurant by creating a hole between the two floors, for the purpose of viewing the master at work with his trade. Is nice.
So as the oven dominates the warm and dimly lit room with it's brick intensity, you get to make the awful decision of eliminating the pizza's you won't have. It is therefore a good idea to bring a friend or thirteen. Because last time I checked, that's how many pizzas are on the menu. There is no question that you pick (at least) one pizza all to yourself. It's not gluttony here, it's the beauty of ultrAA-thin crusts and relatively little else. See, tradition is good for some things! All choices kill it, but the one's I have a seemingly large amount of trouble going past, are the Diavola and the Crudaiola. The Diavola basically translates to devil, and it is if you can't handle the rad that is chilli. The simplicity of crushed tomatoes, the thinnest coating of mozzarella you ain't ever seen, chilli, olives, the hottest damn salami evrrr, and a few anchovies is mind-blowing. I hate anchovies, and yet I manage to love them on this pizza. Go figure! The Crudaiola, as far as I can tell, refers to the raw tomatoes used on this pizza - crudo being the root of it's name. Topped also with the same (not literally) mozzerella, as well as garlic, basil, a good sprinkling of pine nuts, and a lovely dashing of olive oil, this pizza is the freshest damn one you can get. You'll feel like you picked the ingredients yourself from la tenuta di famiglia right back in Italy.
My verdict was made long ago. And now it officially stands. Yerr! Ain't nothin' to be done about it! \o/ Whhhheeeeeeeeee!

2007-09-28T21:42:00.000+10:00

The pizza here is so damned good.
What else is there to say about this place? It says a lot about this place that it manages to win prizes in publications such as the Good Food Guide while disparaging its service. The good news is that the service here isn't terrible. It just isn't up to the standards of the food.

OK, it's a tad cold. But come on, what kind of person are you if you let a little bit of unfriendliness stop you from eating some delicious-ass pizza?

A person I'm not inviting to La Disfida.
All the Pizzas I've tried here have been delicious. So full of flavour, so incredibly edible. Other pizza just seems like.. cardboard in comparison (Ed: It's because it is!!). Here, they just get the simple things right. You can taste the tomato in the base. The salami is hot. The speck is covered with bocconcini.

Okay, that last one isn't that simple. But if you have eaten it before, you realise how delicious it is.

Pizza doesn't seem like that difficult a thing to get right. It seems like something that everybody should get right. Why does it take a small pizza place in Haberfield to show us that we shouldn't settle for bland pizza where all the flavours mix into each other to the point of gray? Shouldn't all food be this wholesome, this flavourful?
The answer = Yes.

It's not the nicest restaurant ever, but you could do a hell of a lot worse. Nothing to complain about, unless you're one of those customers who expect pampering. Turn up, order everything on the menu twice and eat till your face falls off. Because life is about enjoying the simple things. Simple things like being a pizza glutton.

Rosso Pomodoro

2007-09-27T19:14:00.000+10:00

Shop 90-91, 24 Buchanan Street, Balmain
Tuesday - Sunday, from 6pm to late

I already had my favourite pizzeria in Sydney, and for at least 12 years that did not change. I need to clarify now that it still hasn't changed, however there was, if but for one moment, perhaps a possible contender. Imagine that?

Scurrying in from the night, the warm smell hits your nose and tickles the memories of times past and comforting. Having no idea just how popular this place was, we were almost turned away on a Thursday evening due to the inordinate amount of people already seated and the bookings ready to arrive. It was our luck that we had to be at a friend's for a hootenanny and so when we told of our desire to eat quickly and be out of there in a shot, the all-smiling woman at the front was more than happy to fit us in. We were served by lovely man, who was evidently a newish import, and was as charmingly suave and European as one can get. Helpful too!
Beautifully thin crusts are definitely a must for any pizza. Here, they prove the dough for these delightful circles of deliciousness for several days before baking. This somehow manages to make the pizza soft on the inside and rightly crisp on the outside exposed to the flames of the wood-fire oven. Flames and flamingoes. There is a really distinct taste to the dough here, that which I have trouble putting anything specific upon, however which seems to develop somewhere within the salt region...of my memory? Tastes? Very Mediterranean, and very "let's-all-go-to-the-seaside-whheeee!". As for the toppings, well, they are divine. Applied sparingly and using only the freshest ingredients, the seemingly minimalist expression of this veritable art allows one to savour each and every taste. So fresh, in fact, that there exists within Rosso Pomodoro their very own glass meats cabinet, from which they procure their thinly sliced cuts of salami and prosciutto. It is, evidently, extremely tiny if you use the Nutella jar for scale. Then consider that same jar to be really flippin' huge.

It's not on the beaten track so you may, should you forget the address, as we did, have to ask a local for where in Balmain this place exists. It was encouraging that, when I asked a complete stranger for directions to the place on the other side of the suburb, I was greeted with a smile and an excited willingness to draw on my road map. Obviously the locals definitely think Rosso Pomodoro kicks some serious culo in the land of Pizza.

And so it is thus. Rosso Pomodoro gives me both service and pizza that is authentically Southern Italian; warm, crisp, and not just a little bit fresh. Congratulations, you receive second prize. Booyah!

Oh, and they also have a set of rules that must be obeyed. And apparently, they've written some rules for themselves to follow. Just in case someone starts cooking the pizzas in the microwave.

2007-09-27T18:03:00.000+10:00

This is my favourite pizza place in Sydney.

Now, strangely enough, this isn't the best pizza in Sydney. But it's so damned close, that the charm of the place tips it over the edge. Although it looks like nothing special from the outside, as soon as you open the door, the charming hustle and bustle hits you in the face like a mighty bazooka. Smiles and laughter from staff and customer alike, and specials on the chalkboard that have me drooling from the outset.

I have no point of reference for "authenticity" in pizza. American style pizza, Italian style pizza, I have equal fondness for both. However, the execution of the traditional Italian style here is flawless. I dig the thin crust , giving maximum emphasis on the delicious toppings on offer. It's the kind of food that tastes like something you'd make at home if you had a giant wood fire oven and the perfect ingredients, as well as a recipe pried from the hands of an old Italian grandmother. Soul-warming food.
We got brilliant service here, and everybody in the restaurant seemed in high spirits. This is precisely the type of food that facilitates a good time, and it seemed that they understood their role perfectly. The room exerted a distinctly Italian vibe, from the proud AC Milan scarf to the fake FIFA world cup trophy on display. The rules chalked up on the wall provides a smile as well as an implicit guarantee of quality, being strict enough to be serious without being at all restrictive on anyone with respect for those who are trying to have some standards within their own goddamn restaurant.
The customer is not always flippin' right. They are more often wrong than not.

Writing this post, it makes me want to go back. SOMEBODY, LET'S GO EAT PIZZZZZZZZZA ^__^

Feastability

2007-09-23T19:07:00.000+10:00

Newtown Performing Arts School, King Street, Newtown

Towards the end of September, Annually

Food markets are always exciting. It's a chance to sample the tastes and experience the delightful smells that infuse with each other and send you under the dizzying spell of a food frenzy. Better in public than in the privacy of your own home, where, if you may collapse, people may not discover your body for weeks.
I don't really have much to say about Feastability. In my opinion it could be better, in terms of quality of produce offered, however, in it's defence, it is more a showcasing of local restaurants and food businesses than anything else. It also must be noted that I am one spoilt foodie (can I be called that? according to the wikipedia article I think I am categorised more within the realm of a gourmet!?), for sure. Feastability is an opportunity to experience the world that is King Street in the courtyards of the local Performing Arts School.
So there were different roasts and blends of coffee, samples from T2, and crushed juices, in particular the delicious apple and mango (was it?) that I had. In terms of food there was paella, copious amounts of Thai (and, although, it is Newtown I did manage to sample a delicious marriage of chillies, roasted shredded coconut 'meat', ginger, dry shrimp, and a whole lot else, wrapped in a tiny leaf of lettuce, which was ultra delicious), the lovely artisan's bread that is Common Ground (the fruit loaf I bought was sensational - it was more panettone styles though! surprising!!), and, most importantly, ice-cream from Ice and Slice, a highly recommended place for the frozen stuff if you're ever in need of it at the Missenden Road end of King Street.
Plus, there was a lovely 'dear' of a drag queen commentating the day's entertainment and happenings. There were two stages, which really set the tone to international. I think that in the time I was there, I saw Tongan dancers, a choir of 50+ year-olds shouting their way through gospel-type songs, a Mexican shindig, and a country band from...the country. Representin' the peoplez. Yo.

2007-09-23T13:02:00.000+10:00

For me, there aren't many better ways to spend a day than strolling around markets selling delicious things to squee over with a few friends, with nothing much to do other than make stupid comments and consume deliciousness. You might not agree, but hey, that's why I write a food blog and you don't.
Feastability was fun. There was the same stalls that I've become accustomed to, some gozleme over here, some Thai over this way. I had some coffee from an Artecaffe-toting café that I don't recall the name of. Which is a shame, because although the coffee is average to good, the barista was not, which makes all the difference most days.
There was delicious bread baked by a Neo-Christian commune, Rubyos offered us a mini-grazing plate, and of course there was plenty of Thai to be found. The entertainment was as varied, with a terrible choir, some cool Islander dancing and other assorted fun randomness.
A lot of the novelty was lost on us, having traversed up and down King Street more times than we can remember, and having loved Newtown for as long as we've been exposed to it. It's a fantastic little area, and Feastability reflected that. That said, it would have been nice if some of the stalls had gone to some effort, or at least had Campos and Serendipity turn up.
And extra delicious is always welcome!

Messina

2007-09-20T19:13:00.000+10:00

241 Victoria Street, Darlinghurst
Monday - Friday, 4.30pm-11.30pm; Friday - Saturday, midday-11.30pm; Sunday, midday-11pm

Okay. Here's what happened:
1/ Frozen cow's milk + sugar + amazing ingredients (usually in semi-whole form) = exciting.
2/ I = looking for a car park in Darlinghurst + decision to turn left because a park is seen RIGHT OUT THE FRONTAL OF EXCITING.
3/ I = temporarily forget everything but the gelato anticipated + start driving down a very busy, very one-way street, the very wrong way + blissfully not realising latter point.
4/ Dude with a parked truck unloading goods of food = starts to wave arms vigorously + and shouting indiscernible things at my carface.
5/ I = "Dude, seriously, wtf you wanging on about?"
6/ The next second = a three-lane stream of speeding cars come towards me.
7/ I = *screal* + pull massive tankbitch of a car over to the left + hunches shoulders over (...yeah, no-one knows why).
8/ Police car happens to be the first car to approach and see me = I x 100000 ("Oh crap. Now I'm gonna get me some fineage").
9/ Police peeps = stops their vehicle + get out + BRING OUT ORANGE CONES AND ARRANGE + halt all oncoming traffic + allow me to do the 43-point turn around it takes my car to do so.
10/ I = accelerates as fast as the polleese will let me down the street and into a terribly convenient spot the next block down + hide red-faced as all that were paused pass me by + claim that I need amazing amounts of gelato to cure the panic which had thus resulted from the ...err, "incident".

Somebunny loves me. No, really. I think that that "incident" proved once and for all, that I was (at least) the third luckiest person in the Inner City that day. That, and I think that I proved that I iz one dedicated Messina fangrrrrl. Risking lives! Saving them! All in a sunny afternoonsome.
This gelato bar is phenomenal. It's presentation serves a very modern and slick take on the fifties-style diner, albeit in tiny form. Lime green seats match the fluorescent green take-away cups, the matte taupe and dirty orange wallpaper climb busily over the walls, and the chrome glistens in an oh-so shiny fashion. It's gelato serves are *choose-your-own-deity* in a cup. A lovely mixture of traditional Italian flavours, that being cassata, tiramisu, hazelnut, cawfee, torrone, pistachio, strawberry, and lemon...bitches...as well as brilliant fusions of dreams nought before dreamt, that is, lime cheesecake, coconut & lychee, and chocolate sorbet. And just the gorram insanely good in terms of ingredients: notably the Tokay fig. If this place was a person, it could take me, there and then. Are the flavours displayed in mounds? Mountains? Half-buried soccer balls? I don't care, you decide. It's freakho beautiful, whatever the hell it's compared to.
If I describe to you any of the flavours my senses have experienced it would probably embarrass you. I'm just going to say that in terms of quality, ingredients used, and combinations available, this place is absolutely incredible. It's probably my second favourite gelato bar in Sydney. That's a Big Title. I hearts this place muchly. Seriously, they are definitely right about one thing: Forza Messina!!!111@@!!
I'm in ur kitchen, eatin' ur frozen goods.

2007-09-20T17:00:00.000+10:00

Messina is a place in Italy, a country that seems to pre-occupy us with its wealth of delicious eatables.
Messina is also a small, tucked away, gelateria in Darlinghurst that makes me smile.
Lime cheesecake is a brilliant thing to turn into Gelato. I would never have known that, without having visited Messina. They have a great range of flavours, with old favourites mixed with some truly strange offerings. How can you complain when the most basic of styles are infused with a new freshness, while being simultaneously confronted with strange mixes of flavours.
Their Lemon Sorbet is the best I've ever had. Did I mention that they're really flippin' good at what they do? If you're lucky, you can even watch as the cold, delicious goodness oozes out of the machine. Doesn't look so tough. But somehow, they top Gelatomassi in terms of the quality of the product. And those guys are wizards. Mang.
The service here leaves something to be desired. It's a little cold, a little dull. But if you're a gelato-freak like some people, it's just a joy to be given Ice Cream that both reminds you of the goodness you had as a kid, and of artisans, possibly slaving away for decades to learn the skills they have.

Regardless. I want some. Even if I nearly got killed getting it last time. The desire to come here is so regular that the question of whether we should embark on the trip to Darlinghurst has been shortened to a single word. The amount of places in Sydney that deserve regular patronage are far too dispersed in my mind. But if you're in the area, you would do yourself a disservice, sir, if you didn't stop to enjoy a scoop or nine.
Messina?

Katipo

2007-09-15T21:45:00.000+10:00

101 Bondi Road, Bondi
Monday-Friday, 6.30pm-5pm; Saturday-Sunday, 8am-5pm**

I totally dig this place. With a spade.
Katipo is just the type of place that you can chill out at for hours (we did), appreciate the bohemian-style atmosphere (we did this, also), and nibble on some food as you please (yep, did that one too!). And, as a side note, this café's name is that of the species of New Zealandish spider (it's apparently run by a couple of Kiwi's) that is 'non-aggressive' and lives under logs. How cute! No seriously...most of the staff wear t-shirts that have darling little spiders hanging over their shoulders. I want one!
The coffee. It is Artecaffe. A pleasant and smooth blend, definitely one of the better ones around Sydney. The milk they did here was pretty good too. If I sound a little hesitant, it's only because I have awesome coffee a great deal closer to me. Thank you inner city!!
The food. From what I can tell, it's somewhat Spanish-inspired, the modern classics have a different twist to them; that which doesn't pertain to the typical, albeit enjoyable, bourgeois 'twist' that most cafés are employing at the present. We, with our great love for all plates mezze and antipasto, decided to get the the mezze described, by the personality of a blackboard, as: "Grilled haloumi, olives, capers, dolmades, dips, spreads, breads & a general plethora of Greekness". How the hell could we not?!? The dips and spreads that came was a really nice and garlicky tzatziki, a strange but oddly addictive nutty one that we couldn't quite work out the ingredients within (mayhaps it was a mixture of humousness and peanuts and something...else?), and a deliciously good eggplant (or a variation on the theme of baba ghanoush). Oh. Man. So gorram good with toasted Turkish bread. Not being one for capers or olives I reminded myself that we need to bring someone to throw these goodies at, occasionally. The halloumi was subtle in its flavourings, and bought an essential goodness to the platter, as did the tasty Greek salad. One can not ever go wrong with that. The dolmades, however, were a treat to be truly savoured. Now, being the lover of all things Mediterranean, I have had quite a few in my lifetime made by various professionals, usually in the form of grandmothers. But these were godly. The vine leaves were perfectly firm and held the smooth texture of the rice, infused with smatterings of finely-chopped cooked red pepper and various spices, to a veritable bursting point. Honestly, it was probably one of the finer ones I have yet to enjoy.
And so it's eclectic and filled with collectibles from by-gone eras, it's laid-back, and it uses ingredients of which I greatly approve. It's a café that I have developed quite a crush on (I really like it but true love has yet to develop - perhaps when we see each other a bit more that will happen). Maybe I should move to Bondi...
**Rumours abound that this place is actually open for dinner now, but this has, as yet, not been confirmed with mine own eyes. Ah, excuses to go back...

2007-09-15T21:19:00.000+10:00

It's refreshing to come across a café that gets it. Although I can't expect all café owners to be café whores like I am, surely they could visit a couple of exemplars to get an idea of what works and what doesn't? As soon as you walk in the door, you get a smattering of all the things that make for a great café.

Personality! Deliciosity! Passion!
Although I could be accused of bias, having grown up in NZ, this café oozes personality. With photos, knick knacks and odd pieces of furniture arranged into separate zones of hanging-out, it somehow manages to be immediately groovy and comfortable, something that a lot of cafés seem to aim for and miss horribly. We sat for a long, long time, enjoying a lazy weekend day in a café that seemed to be genuinely wanting to facilitate its customers. Students turned up with study materials ready, others just for a bite to eat and a chat with the staff. There's a wonderful atmosphere to the place, a welcome retreat from the rather stark and bare surroundings.
The coffee here is good. very good. However, it's not a espresso speciality café, such as the likes of Campos, Mecca and Single Origin, and shouldn't be judged as such. They make very good, smooth coffee with passion and dedication, and obviously pride themselves on making a good cup. The food here is likewise impressive, showing a willingness to deliver some delicious treats that venture a little bit further than that eggs and bacon fare that quickly become dull. They do about 3 different plates of pick-at-it, share-y goodness, which is always a huge huge point of approval, and the Mezze plate that arrived did not disappointment. Everything was in portions of good size, the dips were tasty as all hell!
You get a sense that they care about the details, nothing they served seemed to be content to reproduce the stock standard café fare, but rather strived for more. This passion is important, because it directly relates to the amount of delicious in your mouth, for less moolah. It also seems to equate to great service, which is what we received. I was relieved that we weren't shooed out for staying too long, but in retrospect it feels like the sort of café that would rather turn away customers than hurry someone enjoying the time at the café.
I really like this place. I also live nowhere near it. The coffee, nor the food, make it worth the hour or so it would take me to get there. But I would kill to have a local café this good. I think I'll go back soon, just to show my appreciation for its existence.

Big Brekky

2007-09-15T15:41:00.000+10:00

336 Stanmore Road, Petersham
Wednesday-Friday, 8:30am-3pm; Saturday, 9am-3pm; Sunday, 9am-2pm

Honestly, the innocence and playfulness of childhood still resides a little in all of us. Just ask Peter Combe. Simple concepts, bold colours, and a tendency for asking for everything to be mega-sized dominates not only the minds of human cubs but also the notion behind this café.
I really like the space created. The décor sets the atmosphere with the familiarity of kindergarten and the sophistication of a modern home's reach between comfortable and classy. A big communal table with a giant bowl of lemons sits in the middle of the naturally lit room, creating a nice feel of...communism. Right? Audacious tones and dark shiny wooden floorboards always win the way to my strictly pleased-only-with-aesthetics heart. And how can you not like multi-pastel-coloured bookcases?
The food amounts to huge proportions. They were not lying when they said it was big. Brekky. Man. I was pretty full! After some deliberation we chose to go with - sharing, of course, to get maximum tasteage of the foodoir - 'Big Brekky' (how could we not?), which consisted of toasted sourdough, grilled mushrooms, crispy bacon, poached eggs, and a pesto consisting, from what I remember, of parsley and parmesan; as well as the the two oversized Portobello mushrooms with garlic and balsamic vinegar which were grilled with spinach, gruyere, and parmesan. A classic choice, on both accounts, I rather thought. I think that any further description of the 'Big Brekky' would be unnecessary. Surely, you can see the tastiness from my perfectly-crafted camera shot. Or perhaps not. But, needless to say it looks grand and it tasted awesomely so. The mushrooms, though, were delightfully rich; the cheese compensating for completely overloading the system with a severe bout of sensory explosion, dulling down the intensity with the less vibrant tastes of dairy, in the forms of gruyere and parmesan, and vegetable ,in the form of deliciously firm spinach.
The only qualm I had about this place was the service. Pleasant wait-staff but we were made to wait over an hour for our meal which, suffice to say, left a bad taste in our mouths. It may be severe to dish out my anger (oh!...such Wrath!) primarily over this place but it seems that in Sydney there is a strong tendency to focus only on the products served when running a foodhaus. I have a big thing with service. We are so gorram privileged with the selection of joints to eat at that it seems as though if a place doesn't satisfy all the criteria to the utmost degree it will eventually wither and die. Not to be harsh...or anything. I don't know what happened that morning, whether it was a lost order, where we were sitting (although it was pretty damn prominent), or that we looked...like we wanted to have a really long conversation, but I am inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt. Sort of. [/rant]

Nevertheless, it would have reached the status of some sort of perfection if it weren't for the. . . delay. Nevermind. I guess. Maybe after I have exhausted Sydney of her breakfast options I will be more inclined to check back in. Knowing me, it will probably be sooner than that.

2007-09-15T14:20:00.000+10:00

Big Brekky is self-explanatory. This poses a problem when attempting to put together a post that avoids being redundant and not existing.

The funky interior, and the lively atmosphere set the tone for the place nicely. A strange colour scheme, and odd bits and pieces lying around immediately made me feel at home, despite the fact that I've always lived in houses that were far more drab. There's a hustle and bustle to the place which communicates to the atmosphere of the place, fitting with the down-to-earth food and service that they offer.
After spotting a cappuccino that was noticeably unnatural in its lumpiness (seriously, a barista should never end up with something that looks like this), all thoughts of ordering a coffee were immediately erased in my mind. We are both boring and gluttonous, so the "Big Brekky" was an easy choice, while the Portobello mushrooms were the result of our predilection for the taste of a fun-guy (GET IT?!) (On a serious note: I'm sorry about that. Really.)
Both turned out to be delicious, and given to us in generous servings. The Big Brekky amply lived up to its name, while the Portobello mushrooms were so rich that they forced me into submission, unable to stomach it's flavour attack. I had no complaints with my food, being so delicious and filling, but I guess it's a sign of how spoilt I am that I noticed that I hadn't been knocked on my ass with the awesome of the food.
If we had been served on time, I would probably endorse this place. However, since I waited for along time, with little acknowledgement of their mistake, they go into the "I don't really see a reason to visit you guys again" camp. Even if the food was pretty damned good. They need to improve the coffee, in any case.

(I'm being constructive with my feedback!)

Espresso Galleria

2007-09-15T08:40:00.000+10:00

84 Ramsay Street, Haberfield
Monday - Friday, 8am - 5.30pm; Saturday, 8am - 3pm

The coffee here is really good.
In a town where the men gossip-folk more than the women and the houses need development applications for changing the colour of one's letterbox, an 'outsider' setting up shop in such a tight-knit community fuels the next couple of month's debates and rapid hand-gesturing. Haberfield - or the 'Ach-Field as I like to call it (...not...really...) - is exactly like that. For a very traditionalist Italian suburb to afford a man with a Greek background the privilege of making their beloved espresso is certainly no mean feat achieved by that single dude. Imagine that.
And he is a dude! With an obvious passion for what he is doing, the roasts and blends he sells and uses reflect a modernity he is trying to bring to both the coffee and the area. The shots are amazingly consistent and, although relatively unflourished with grand flavours and flashes of enlightenment, provide the boldness required for the local consumers. I also really love the texture of the milk he does for my macchiato, both smooth and creamy but still light to taste. It's pretty, non? Shiny too...

The fact that he gets his mother (or perhaps his γιαγιά (grandmother)...I can't remember which) to bake delicious goods is a bonus. The baklava is very good, and very Greek. A subtle sweetness that still keeps the essential stickiness of the honey-water and crispiness of the pastry makes for an easy-to-love sweet. A nubbin (is that not the right word to use? is that rude?! ...nib? is nib better? anyone? anyone...bueller?) of clove infuses a sublime spiciness within its rectangular being. Although not pictured, the Turkish Delight I sampled here is also supreme. Again, very subtle flavourings and the rosewater is just the right intensity to complement the gorgeous viscosity of such. I would say it rivals Ya Habibi's (Newtown) very own version, of which currently stands as the best I have personally tasted (and also from my expert mother who travelled around and lived in the Middle East for some time in her halcyon days of youthdom). To be honest, all of Espresso Galleria's sweet-goods (and now apparently jams) look to be prize.

No, correct that. The coffee here is fantastic.

2007-09-15T08:22:00.000+10:00

Located in the heart of what I'm beginning to think of as the definitive foodie suburb, Haberfield, Espresso Galleria represents a classic espresso bar, the kind of place that is about the coffee, first and foremost.
This small café is small, simple and minimalistic. There's no bacon and eggs here, no kitchen to speak of, merely a reasonable selection of delicious edibles such as a sumptuous Turkish delight, as well as uber-delicious home-made baklava. The service is quick and pleasant, and Emmanuel, the Barista and Owner, is a pleasure to watch at work. I'm a bit creepy in the way that I love to watch a quality barista at work, and Emmanuel is obviously a class act. He pulls short, well-balanced, espresso that lingers on the palate due to the dark richness of the blend. His milk is velvety smooth, and exactly the right temperature, and despite the fact that he does not indulge in latte art generally, his coffee leaves no room for complaint.

In other words, a classy espresso bar, aimed at a classy demographic. God, I love Haberfield sometimes.
He doesn't roast or blend himself, but every espresso I've had here has obviously been from fresh beans. He has beans available for sale, carefully chosen from two roasters that as far as I can tell, completely undisclosed. His coffee seems to err on the side of balance, which gives a smooth, milder espresso, but rarely seems to reach the highs of those such as Mecca, Campos or Single Origin. But, really, for where he is, and what he's doing, Emmanuel is doing a wonderful job. I think I've dropped in without fail, every time I've been in Haberfield. Doesn't hurt that Sulfaro's is across the road, either.

Campos

2007-09-10T09:34:00.000+10:00

193 Missenden Road, Newtown
Monday - Friday, 7am to 4pm; Saturday, 8am to 5pm

*Sigh*
If only everyone could be as good as Campos. You're not, by the way. Do you consistently blow my mind? Do you actively worry about getting everything right for my approval? Do you provide a rich injection of adrenaline into my bloodstream (pre- and post-class, mind) whilst still providing the lightness of citrus-y undertones?

Mayhaps. But, more likely: no.
Campos in Newtown is the celebrity of coffee roasters in Sydney. Their increasing popularity does two of many things:
a/ renders them an untouchable-drop-all-your-other-gods-and/or-add-to-your-pantheon-now-deity-like status (that's usually reserved for lesser mortals), and
b/ means that average local café are starting to use their beans with their average barista skills are now pulling average shots +10. And that, by mine calculations, means that Sydney's coffee is improving by at least ~3.1415926%. On average.
In other words, there is a direct causal correlation between the existence of Campos and the increasing quality of coffee in this world.
In my world, at least.

The baristas are incredibly serious about what they are doing. The place is an espresso bar people...read: do not come here expecting a double mocha latte half-strength decaf with cream and red and purple sprinkles and a dusting of cinnamon sugar please". Because they will kick your sorry face out, back down the four stairs of entry, and into the grungy Newtown gutter. If you're lucky you will only fall onto a few used needles. No, treat them with the utmost respect they deserve and you will receive a hand-crafted shot almost every time. Each will be presented by a dude, often personally coming out from behind his machine, who glances at the expression on your face, after you've inspected, in an expectant and slightly crazed manner. Once set down on the high bar stools and tables they will most likely walk away, after an awkward silence and odd furtive glances (you don't like being watched whilst sipping the nectar of gods), and limp back to behind their tools of deliciousness clutching their burnt (steam wand) and crippled (tamp) hands.

Not really. Though, they are pretty distant and reserved. But, get a bad shot here and it's most likely your own fault.
This is constantly rated within the top three coffee joints in Sydney, and continues to charm local students, doctors, and the general kooks who abound who know how to live a good life. Even if you don't know what the hell you are talking about in the world of coffee, you will discern the noticeable difference of this paradise to all other hells on earth. It is, after all, what actual coffee is supposed to be.

2007-09-10T08:13:00.000+10:00

I think I'll run out of positive adjectives and hyperbole in describing this place.

Campos is the benchmark that pretenders aspire to. They blend and roast their own coffee. They keep their machine perfectly tuned. They make sure that the beans are always fresh. The fact that they see this as the fundamentals to be maintained, while other cafés view it as a needless extravagance, shows the gulf in class that Campos represents.

They serve quality espresso. I've quibbled about coffees from Campos before, but mostly that's from having been served some absolutely incredible shots that surely require the stars to align. I've never had a bad coffee from Campos, and I never expect to. It gets incredibly busy, but instead of forcing the Barista to balance quality with speed precariously, as most would be expected to do, they simply scale the number of Baristas up. Coupled with how fantastic these Baristas are, it makes for a true espresso bar that seems to good to be true.
The whole place oozes style. Filled with coffee paraphernalia, from Vac Pots to and old roaster, playing some groovy jazz that skirts the line between class and muzak, The simple bare-bones nature of the place complimented by black and white photos of their coffee makes me feel like I've left the colourful, bustling city for a shrine to the espresso gods.

Campos fully deserves its stellar reputation, and that's surprising to me. It seems that they'll always be this good as long as the committed, and in all probability, obsessive management stay in charge. I have my reservations about the dilution of their brand through the distribution of their beans to Cafes with no where near the dedication, never mind the skills, but regardless, this small espresso bar represents a pilgrimage that anybody who remotely enjoys a good espresso in Sydney needs to make.
The service isn't the best. But I like to think that I'm beginning to be loved by them secretly, and they are hiding it in the name of barista professionalism.

Stand-offish? I like to think of it as Mystique.

I left Campos on a euphoric high today. Don't blame me if you become just another member of Espresso Addicts Anonymous. It's all worth it.

Artisan Focacceria

2007-08-19T21:04:00.000+10:00

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'.

2007-08-19T19:51:00.000+10:00

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

2007-08-06T21:04:00.000+10:00

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.

2007-08-06T18:27:00.000+10:00

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

2007-08-01T19:31:00.000+10:00

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.

2007-08-01T16:19:00.000+10:00

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.

The Aroma Coffee Festival

2007-07-22T21:22:00.000+10:00

The Rocks
10am - 5pm; annually, mid-late July

In general, I love markets. In particular those little white stalls with teepee hoods that dramatically sweep to the sky in that mediaeval, almost gothic, fashion. Good times!
To be honest, I was not expecting much from the Aroma Festival. In the weeks approaching there was advertising in all shapes and forms (okay, SMH and small billboards), and it started to get a really mainstream feel to it. I am the first to admit that I am a food snob at heart and, thus, I cannot deal with the general public knowing about awesome. I reserve the right to say that some things are only meant for those who deserve the rad. I should probably talk to a therapist about it. Or an analyst. Or...

Nevertheless, the day came. It was overcast and threatened to be drizzly. In other words it was set to be a perfect clutching-coffee-and-nibbling-on-delicious-things day. Ayup! I got there relatively early and had a look around at the roaster's and blender's who had claimed their places around the precinct of The Rocks. To be honest, there was not much that excited and I recognised few worth trying. Out of the Sydney favourites there was only Toby's Estate that I noted. This has become a popular blend amongst local cafés and, alas, proved to have an insane length of lined cawfee-drinkers from sun up to sun down. 'Twas definitely not worth waiting when I have their two stores so close to me (and my heart) - the Woolloomooloo one I am sure will be documented in the future. The first shot I had was from Danes and proved to be the best shot all day. Given, shots earlier in the day are always better than those later, but I was pleasantly surprised at the balance it had going. Definitely a solid roast to look out for. The next coffee short thereafter I had was...awful. Can't remember the roaster and, suffice to say, I don't care to. Only for cases of avoidance. The only other coffee I made bold to try was one within the Latte Art Championships section. A couple of competing baristas were 'taking a rest' from competition by making coffee for the general public at the back...they were obviously avoiding the harsh scores that the judges were serving up. Whew! I received a gorgeously arted latte, of which I do not normally consume, but it was free and proved to be delicious! Milk and coffee do go well together in such ratios! Surprise! It was also nice to meanwhile glance around the International Terminal and covet pretty-looking machines and shiny grinders.
The tea, chocolate, and spices and other edible fare were quite of the delectable! Stand outs included the fruit-infused tea, which within were ingredients like cinnamon, sweet Chinese apricot kernels, tangy haw slices, apple, hibiscus, and rosehips. No wonder it was called 'Amore'. The warm chocolate-covered cup of fresh strawberries were delightful, the conglomeration with which we bought fudge was great, and the dark-chocolate-coated peaberry beans were bought for those who were not predestined to make the festival and proved to be a gift of deliciousness. Also consumed later were the packets of spices bought to make more-than-heavenly curries - a great idea, these packets hold only the required amounts of condiments and leaves, thus ensuring that ingredients are fresh at all times! Innovation!

It was a popular event. It was, all-in-all, a good day to spend with those you enjoy the company of and in a location that is gorgeous to wander into sandstone-lined back alleys and enchantingly concealed shoppes. It is not a coffee festival per se that I would recommend other than if you: are a complete n00b at coffee; like the good stuff for one dollar; or if you are looking to start with some quality home machines. Perhaps next year will prove to be more promising in terms of coffee?

2007-07-22T10:00:00.000+10:00

GUEST CONTRIBUTION: RISHIMON

Kekekekeke zerg rush lol.

See? I can be plenty Korean. Can't tell me apart can you?

Ostensibly, this is supposed to be about the Aroma Coffee Festival. But for both of us, it's not going to work out the way we want.

For all its hype as being the coffee festival of Sydney, the coffee component was rather lacklustre. None of the really interesting boutiques were available, the queues were immoderately long despite there being a fairly large number of coffee stalls available, (was your half-hour wait for Toby's Estate worth it?! Well, was it?!) no Campos, no Mecca, no Single Origin. 'Nuff said.

That being said and done, it was still okay. I had a pretty decent shot of Dane's, got to try and learned to hate several blends of coffee, which I can neither remember the names of, nor do I want to.

Where the festival really shined was the rather large 'other' category. This consisting of chocolate, tea and spices. I'm not even going to comment on spices, as a) how the hell do you partake of spices? and b) I didn't really try anything nor buy anything spice-related, which may have been to my detriment. That said, the spice stalls consisted of nice things like jams and relishes and confusing and odd things made of hibiscus. Possibly alcoholic.
The chocolate was good. Really, that sums up it well. Lots of different available chocolate products, lots of free samples, cheap to boot. I managed to snag 200g of chocolate-covered coffee beans for the paltry sum of $5, which was a great damn purchase. In retrospect, I should have bought a lot, LOT more. The consortium we formed to purchase fudge was a wise investment. A deliciously wise investment! Apparently, they appear every week on the Rocks Markets to sell their soft and textured wares, so go seek them out.

Other highlights included: watching baristas get absolutely destroyed by judges in the latte art competition, getting free coffees at the competition with lovely little ferns and trees on them and the coffee machine expo. Getting to stare at and touch some of those machines was a delight.

Gripe: It's too short. 7 hours? C'mon. Ideally, they should stretch this thing into a night festival, but it being the bane that is winter, that may prove infeasible (in which case, move it to summer...or hold two!) If you're not going to hold into the night, make it two days at least.

All that being said and done, it was worth it. I'd go again in a heartbeat, and would strongly suggest you do so too. It was muchly fun, and worth your investment of time and moneyz (even if I turned up late...but that's another story).

Addendum: The weather was really good for that day. Cool, but not cold, with a very light hint of rain. A very fine coffee mood kind of day. This probably contributed a lot to the day, and I hope it happens again.

Table for 20

2007-07-21T20:29:00.000+10:00

182 Campbell St, Surry Hills
Legs under the table at 8pm: $40 Wednesday & Thursday; $50 Friday; bookings available for Saturday.

Tagline: "There are 193 normal restaurants in Surry Hills. This is not one of them."

With such an wonderfully unique idea, I was drawn to the prospect of the experience more so - for a first - than I desired my curiosity regarding the food to be sated.

As inspired as was the concept, so too was the way the chef/host/pioneer Michael approached the evening. Having spoken to him twice before on the hellophone regarding times and the requirements of vegetarian friends that were to accompany us, he seemed a sweet and approachable guy - one who always seems to terribly pleased to see you and has that familiarity about him, the reasons for which can never quite be pinned down.
Not previously aware of his Mediterranean origins, though, I was not all surprised when I found out. His food was obviously influenced by the welcoming and bold meals the Italians are renowned for. Simple and full flavours with a brush or sprig of something to twitter about the senses and wonder what herb or vegetable or oil is acting as the special ingredient within.

As we made our way hesitantly into the discreet building armed with bottles red wine as requested, noting the rather nice modern décor (well, I know I was), we were greeted with two long set tables. Clearly this was a little more professional than I had previously anticipated, not just a house opened by some friendly! We were taken straight up the back to a bar area where an interesting selection of people mingled. Soft, ambient music played and before we knew it we had a glass of our wine in hand and were nibbling on 'Olive Tiepida', small warmed Italian-style olives in a chilli and garlic olive oil with chunks of delightfully hard and pungent parmigiano. As the place filled somewhat up we were instructed to take our seats and were duly introduced to the two musicians sitting in a corner. We were to be serenaded!...or something. What delights.
The actual courses were more than satisfactory. Entrée was 'pasta casareccio sapia alla trifila', basically home-made pasta with mushrooms in black truffle oil. A tasty dish which did more than satisfy an empty stomach. It must be noted that I am somewhat suspicious of restaurants who "stock" their diners with filling foods like pasta at the beginning, as it often denotes a decline in quality for the rest of the meal, however this thought was put out of mind once I received the following. The main, 'filetti di monkfish' was gorgeous. Brought out on a huge platter and on 'un cetto' of delicious rice, it was positively melt-in-the-mouth so. The "curves of potato" or 'contorni di patate' were stunning. Easily a stand-out, these were roasted to near-perfection. And by perfect I mean my mother's - they are (usually) untouchable. Other sides included the wonderfully succulent 'zucchine al aceto' (zucchini cooked in wine vinegar) and the crisp delights of 'une insalatina di spinacci, pepe e noce'. That's right: a salad of baby spinach leaves, pear, and crushed walnut dressing - always a fresh combination to accompany most meals...or so I find. After having our adequate fill of savoury edibles we were given a rest and a chance to sit back and enjoy the atmosphere. And then came the 'torta alla crema di cioccolata e noce braziliane', which was of the yum! 'E scropino'! ...I almost forgot the scropino! This is a lovely way to finish off a meal - the Italians love it - and basically consists of lemon vodka and a lemon liqueur, which is one of the most refreshing customs I do so enjoy! Vive la italia!

All in all I found it to be a great experience. The food was gratifying and I really must applaud the excellent job done in churning out both a fresh and hearty meal on such a large scale. Catered food is usually the absolute pits, but it was the combination of the dishes Michael had chosen to serve (and thus, in a way, the cuisine) and the obvious attention to ensuring everybody's satisfaction. The provisions for the vegetarians in our party also must be noted. For the entrée they were served with a beautiful tower of bocconcini and tomatoes drizzled in olive oil and balsamic vinegar - I secretly coveted this. Their main consisted of a larger portion of the pasta we had for our entrée - it appeared that all were happy!

Oh also, the lights seemed to be made out of scrunched trees. How unique!

2007-07-21T18:03:00.000+10:00

We have to start off by making one thing clear. Table for 20 is a lie.
Table for 20 is actually, quite deviously, two tables of 20. After trekking through Surry Hills with a few bottles of wine from the Ultimo Wine Centre (future post? ...perhaps) we found our way to the beautiful restaurant that isn't a restaurant known as Table for 20.

Considering the way that it's marketed, the interior is incredibly slick. You are greeted with a large open room with the two aforementioned tables, and a set of metal stairs that lead up to a bar where wine can be stashed and cheese and olives consumed. While we chatted and enjoyed some wine, it was obvious that the owner/chef/dude was running the place on charisma alone, seemingly charming women with a smile. What they see in a confident, charming man who can cook well is beyond me.

Slowly, we made our way to the tables and was pleasantly surprised by two dudes playing music for us in the corner, with some pretty covers of old favourites. The sound of chatter rose in response, and created a pleasant atmosphere of laughter, conversation and excitement. We were duly welcomed shortly thereafter, and the mood in the air was very much one of general joviality and fun.

As good as the food was, the ability of the setting to invoke a good time for all was impressive. The food, with black truffle pasta to start, some monkfish with walnut and pear salad and some crazy awesome roast potatoes, and finishing with a delicious sorbet and chocolate delicious, was certainly impressive. It was a good solid meal, and exactly what the setting called for, and although it wasn't a culinary adventure by any stretch of the imagination, it wasn't necessary. The setting and the manner of the service made me want to kick back and remember how awesome my friends were, and just take a moment to have a decent conversation and see how things are with them. The fact that I got to eat some plump-ass fish is only a bonus.

Table for 20 is a delicious, delightful lie.

The Cheese Shop

2007-07-17T23:53:00.000+10:00

797 Military Road, Mosman
Monday - Wednesday, 8,30am -6pm; Thursday, 8.30am - 7pm; Friday, 8.30am - 6.30pm; Saturday, 8am-6pm; Sunday, 8.30am - 5pm

Do you see what I see?
Oh hells of yes sir, it's heaven. Heaven on a wooden paddle. And served with thinly sliced bread.

This place has been opened for over 30 years. And accordingly so, I say! The space is not overambitious nor at all showy. We spent some time looking at the small-but-still-impressive collection of jams, oils, dips, sweets, and dried fruity things. Stuff of the delicious kind.

However, my opinion, which rests upon the cheese counter, begs to differ regarding the size of things. Spanning near to the length of the shop's entirety, the feast with which the eyes are set to gaze upon almost send one into a dizzying daze. One cannot help but to notice the care in which this compendium is compiled: grouped countries, select regions, specific maturation periods, promised types, levels of intensity in flavour...the list could go on.

And we nearly missed out on the platter! With options of a local only or an international only selection from its library housed within the glass case we could not resist asking if we could have a combination of the two platters. Because, well, everyone needs to broaden their view of the world/cheesetopia. It exists...okay? I'm glad we agree.

Our eagerness paid off! The owner, a rather jolly woman of whom one could not be adverse to having as a benevolent aunt of sorts, appeared to notice our excitement (though, I can't imagine why!) and gave us what was an exceptional picking of cheeses. With great care, and the quiet but hardcore knowledge she seemed to possess, she informed us as to the order of which we should make our odyssey around the platter.

We were to start proceedings with the Piano Hill cheddar from Tasmania, a nice hard and intense nutty cheese that smacked of the Gruyère-style graininess of texture. This went, as did most, extremely well with the little triangular prism of quince on the platter. Next was to be the other domestic cheese supplied: the Signature Brie, again from Tasmania. Not really all that memorable but nevertheless it was enjoyably soft and subtly flavoured. The Dorset butter cheese from Austria that was to follow was probably my least favourite (read: not bad per se, but just not my cup of tea) - however it stands by the fact that I am terribly biased as I am not at all a fan of the Northern European cheeses and their strange rubbery texture they have going...I'm looking at you Jarlsberg. The Dolce Gorgonzola from Italy was an absolute stand-out. Not unsurprisingly, it was quite sweet and followed to be extraordinarily rich. Having been a lover of this type of cheese for some time now, this was definitely one of the better ones that I have sampled. Great, also, with the quince. The Stilton blue from England was deliciously...English. Full-bodied and not too overt in its complexities, the crumbly texture could be said to be near-perfect in my opinion. The last, and one which I think our wonderful lady of the cheese cabinet slipped in for us as an 'extra', was the Délice de Bourgogne triple-cream from France. A decadent, velvety-textured cheese that is extremely rich and which relies on the heavy, almost woody, back-flavour it gives as an afterthought.

And so on our way out, amidst the general shower of love and praise for this particular providore, we succumbed and bought some to take home. One has to support such fabulousness on multiple levels.

Do you think I have said enough? I think I love cheese just that little bit too much.

2007-07-17T17:41:00.000+10:00

This was really a surprise.

I just like to browse in places. I must drive shopkeepers halfway to mad-town with my perusing and enthusiasm without actual purchasing. The Cheese Shop is perfect for it, despite being so small, with it's range of exotic cheeses from all over the place. It has delicious cheese from Wales, presumably produced by some sort of quixotic cheese monster, it has delicious cheese from England. In fact, that's kind of what this place does. It has delicious cheese.

They don't seem to really be advertising the fact that they do a cheese plate, but its such amazingly fantastic value that if you're remotely at all feeling like sitting and tasting a bunch of cool cheeses, this is the place to do it. Cheese plates tend to be the domain of expensive restaurants, often costing as much as a cheap meal from somewhere like the aforementioned Musashi. However, The Cheese Shop offers face-gasm type cheeses at somewhere around $10 for domestic cheeses and $15 for international. That was for the two of us mind you, not each. And for some reason, the lady there (which it must be noted was UBER nice) gave us a good mix of cheeses for $11, along with some rad thinly sliced bread and quince stuff that tasted great with all the cheeses.

I had never tried Gorgonzola before, so that was a delightful discovery. Such deliciosity! The blue cheese was nice, as was the hard cheeses and the triple cream. And the other ones. For a cheese newbie such as myself, I was somewhat spoilt with riches. We took our time with the delighting of the cheeses and even though I was feeling somewhat sick with the richness of it all afterward, it was definitely awesome. And that's what we're totally about.

Swerve

2007-07-17T13:58:00.000+10:00

876 Military Road, Mosman
Monday - Friday, 6:30am to 5pm; Saturday, 7am to 5pm; Sunday, 8am to 5pm

Having refined my coffee palate at such places (which I will cover as to the reasons why this is so when we get around to doing an official write-up between regular visits) as Campos, Single Origin, Mecca, and Toby's Estate in Woolloomooloo, my expectations for a shot to reach even the 'good' stage are pretty damn high. Be warned: there are many varying degrees above even this level in my scaling system. It's complicated.

And this place oh-so-pleasantly surprised.

Although I had heard many a previous rant on how great the coffee could really be here, and particularly how the 'star' barista was nurtured and praised and nestled between his spat of Australian and international awards for latte art and other coffee-related competitions, I was still more than dubious. One has to be distrusting in such a world full of people who have no idea what they are doing to such precious commodities...like coffee beans.

The atmosphere of the joint did little to ease those fears. Decor: white, plasticky, sterile. The quick-superficial-glance cross-section of customers: anorexic-long-blonded-hair-little-gossipy-rich girls (sorry, I really come across as a lot more bitter than I actually am) or aging parents with 11 year-old children. Are these the people who truly have time to appreciate this coffee? Who knows. I make no judgements here. Service: non-existent. This could be a good sign - perhaps focus is centred on pulling fantastic shots as opposed to appeasing customer demands?

That's got to be it. Either that or the fact that they roast and blend their own beans, and to near a gorram perfection if you ask me. Or perhaps that Scott Callaghan is a dedicated barista who knows what the hell he is doing and takes his time and care with each and every coffee he makes.

Given all this, my shot was supreme. That's right, it reigned. Rich to the very core, it was the smallest shot in any macchiato I have ever had. The tiny dollop of milk slowly settling atop was stained by such a pure concentration of the roasted beans; this was a serious contender for 'best shot ever'. It was subtly complex but subdued enough to be really robust and full in it's flavour. No one can deny such euphoria.

As the area is one that I rarely have reason to frequent, unfortunately, this place will see very little of me. But if you are ever nearby please do check the coffee out here. That three bolla will seldom be better spent.

2007-07-17T12:59:00.000+10:00

The problem with coffee is that there are so many vital components in crafting that perfect shot, the espresso that comes back to you in your dreams. However, you can be sure that where you find a barista who knows what they're doing, they will make sure to have the other components at their disposal.

Swerve is famous for its baristas. Scott Callaghan has won pretty much everything, and Luke seems to be no slouch either.

To be honest, I'm kind of obsessed. The first time I went, I was surprised to run across it, having heard of the café but completely unaware of where it was. Of course, I ventured inside for a coffee and I was impressed that Luke made sure to pull a double ristretto for a takeaway cup. I'm usually lucky to find a place who knows what a ristretto is. I must have come across kind of creepy: a small Asian guy watching every movement of the barista as he poured shots and milk, precisely and mechanically, trying to figure out how everything combined to produce the magic in each shot.

I admit it, that day I went back for another shot. And then made my friend get a latte.

This day though? The barista produced a shot that was great. They roast and blend their own coffee, a fucking good sign that they're serious about their coffee. It's a nice dark blend, chocolatey and earthy. Also, it makes me feel like my face is having an orgasm.
This isn't the greatest café ever. The food doesn't excite, the service is polite but stand-offish, and the café itself is cold and un-endearing. However, the coffee is absolutely top notch, and what else really matters for a coffee-geek like me?

It's really a shame that it's in a suburb that I have no reason to ever go to, other than maybe John's Bookshop. It's just nice to know that there are still places around that are serious about their coffee that I haven't really heard of.

The Tea Centre

2007-07-10T23:41:00.000+10:00

"The Glasshouse", 146 Pitt Street Mall, Sydney

Monday-Friday, 9am-5:30pm; Thursday, 9am-8pm; Saturday, 10am-5pm, Sunday, Closed.

Tea is freaking awesome. How can a few dried leaves...oh noes, you can't question the tea!! IT JUST CAN OTAY!
This place is gorgeous. Tucked within a small 'mall' off Pitt Street, you could easily think that you walked into a shop in a small country town somewhere in the Southern Highlands. But you don't actually. Fitted out with beautiful mahogany shelves which are lined with assorted tin-boxed teas - both exotic and variations in quality and origin on the well-known - and a little balcony in one corner of the shop which houses extra tables for the café, it is like a dream. And thus you are surrounded by tea sets of all shapes and sizes: the traditional Turkish çay sets, colourful mis-matched saucers and cups, and individually designed Japanese wares. Even the individual teapots were incredible: among all the different ceramics and patterns there were Islamic jugs, tiny ones that resembled small mammal-like creatures, and a huge massive red one that would have held probably 12 or more cups. 'allo, 'allo, 'allo!

I felt like Alice.

So being a little lost one amongst such great leaves...I put my trust in a tea connoisseur in the form of a friend and went with Pacific Sun. WOW. It was gorgeous. I was dubious, at first because of the name, but was confident that my tea was easily the best out of all that was chosen, after my first sip. Apparently it is a Chinese black tea that is infused with tropical fruits and flowers including dried pieces of orange, mango and guava. Really naturally sweet and dark to look at. And as tasty as they come!^^

The other blends and origins sampled were rather of the nice, also. The popped corn and toasted rice was a surprising one! Goodness!

Conclusion: tea is a happy-maker!

2007-07-10T21:06:00.000+10:00

Why is a cafe so wonderful hidden in a mall on Pitt St?

An absolutely incredible array of wonderful smelling teas, stacked on shelves greet you as you walk in, with a huge collection of beautiful teapots making this small café/store a beautiful sight. A few nondescript artworks and paintings give a nice cosy atmosphere, but of course the highlight are the Teas.
These people are hardcore. Single Origin teas from various parts of the world. Inventive and exciting blends. Cool teapots that (to me) look like little mice. The menu is incredible, with at least 30 or 40 different teas available. You have all your traditional teas, Oolongs, Green Teas as well as many speciality blends, one of which smelled exactly like lime marmalade. I was boring and went for a single origin Ceylon tea which was absolutely delightful.
Lets get this straight. I am a huge coffee geek, and this place has me raving about Tea? It's a special one, and worth searching out if you ever feel like some Tea in the city. The Glasshouse is surprisingly quiet, and a nice place to take a friend to talk over your tea of choice, whether it be Earl Grey, Russian Caravan, or a tea made out of toasted rice and popped corn!

Musashi

2007-07-10T12:21:00.000+10:00

447 Pitt Street (Cnr. Pitt & Campbell Street), Sydney

(Lunch) Monday to Friday 11:45am-2:30pm, (Dinner) Monday to Saturday 5:30pm-10pm

Who can't resist places with daggy/amazingly cool photos of the restaurant's chefs plastered upon the walls?! Certainly not me.

Having previously been here for dinner - and at that time being treated to the unique and wonderful culinary delight of watching six or more chefs, kitchen-hands, in addition to a sashimi-master (yes, he was a MASTER) prepare and cook your food in front of your headface whilst you sit at a bar area - the thought that lunch would be nice to share with friends was a good one.

Being seated at a normal table, one was able to notice the simple Japanese interior design so employed at Musashi rather than, like before, staring into the eyes...I mean, pans flipped and swirled by artisans. Is nice! Nevertheless the food is amazing, and all in all the architecture was not really that important. I'm just obsessed with that kind of thing.

On a whim I ordered a Green Tea Shake for an extra two dollars with my meal. Not usually into the whole 'mocktail' thing loved by namely this restaurant, it was nevertheless, well, quite good. A little bit watery for my liking, but I guess I shouldn't evaluate too harshly as I tend towards the preference of 'creaminess' rather than that more watery texture of sorbet's etc. in my taste. For a friend who loves the green tea though, it was enjoyed muchly!

Lately having the most bizarre need for the type of eel cooked at most Japanese and Korean restaurants, I decided to go with the lunchtime Unaju Set priced at $15. Mayhaps it is my new way of measuring the goodness of other restaurants specialising in these cuisines...sort of a "base" to judge upon? Maybe not. I love this restaurant quite alot for so many other reasons that their eel could not at all be the foundation with which my opinion rests upon. What a silly idea.

The presentation was, as usual, rather pleasing. It came out with side dishes of miso soup, a mini-salad, and a few pieces of sashimi salmon. Not being a huge fan of miso soup in general, it was, in fact, reported to be "really good". The salad was delicious - with a delightful sauce that I imagine was some sort of conglomerate between a mayonnaise (of sorts) and a sweetened soy - and the sashimi was as good as it gets...that is, it exists only to amaze the tastebuds. The eel was cooked to it's soft perfection and the (apparently) simple ingredients in the soy-based sauce melt with the small strands of dried seaweed and sesame seed garnish. Such an incomplex dish and yet so flavoursome. As tasty it was, the main problem for me were the tiny bones that were still there - it is supposed to be completely filleted. Thus I have never had eel with the bones remaining, and found this to be odd for such a meticulous place. Although really quite minute (the bones could never have been picked out like some other fish) it made the dish a tad unsavoury, if bites were not placed intermittently with plain rice, and just that little bit disappointing. Despite this I still highly recommend going here.

I wouldn't have written this much, if it were not the case.

What else was good? All others that accompanied seemed to be completely satisfied with the price and quality of Musashi. The Tonkatsu & Sashimi Set was yum, the Teriyaki Chicken & Sashimi Set (below) was scrumptious, and the Wagyu Yakiniku Beef Set (not tried) was professed to be fabulous.

2007-07-10T10:14:00.000+10:00

I really love Musashi.

It's full of delicious things! The sashimi is fresh, and delicious! The sauces are so good that they often outshine the Kurobuta pork and Wagyu beef you're dipping them in to! They have Green Tea Crème Brûlée!

If you like Japanese food at all, this is a place you want to check out. Sure there's a queue to get in most times. But its awesometown japanese food at prices that students can afford. I just love that they pay attention to every detail, from how the random sides taste to how everything is presented. The major sashimi platter in particular is all kind of spectacular, but even the bento boxes we recieved for lunch was utterly perfect.

ITS JUST GOOD, ALRIGHT?! GO GET IT.

Also, they do a Sashimi + Wagyu Don for about $14. What kind of crazy came up with that? Are they insanity?
I just wish they kept the poster of the chefs smiling cheesily.

Ichi-ban Boshi

2007-07-07T22:57:00.000+10:00

The Galeries Victoria
Level 2, 500 George St, Sydney
7 Days, 11am - 9pm

It's a ramen house!! And dayumn is it fine.

No matter what the hour is, or day, the queue for this place is always a long one. Personally I don't see a big problem with this as Kinokuniya lies directly opposite always waiting to consume anyone who dares enter. Level two, therefore, of this building is one of the best 'mall' levels EVER. Don't even try to contest that one.

So after what seems like an age of wanting to try this noodle bar out, a window of time is found to be had for some ramen. With a reasonable on-the-door waiting list for those before us, we mingle about the front podium - which marks the open entrance and which usually holds a cute Japanese girl with a headset - worrying about whether enough time was left to eat. Nevertheless we are taken in reasonably fast. And then supplied with a basket next to the table...which was for what exactly? My dirty laundry? Food scraps? Turtles? No, apparently my coat - I like the idea!

After much deliberation I decided to go with Aburi Chashu-men - gorgeously succulent pieces of pork which were flamed (who can't resist the addition of throwing flames at something?) and sitting within a mildly salty broth flavoured oh-so-slightly with ginger. The actual ramen was delicious, and accompanied with broth-marinated bamboo shoots, chopped spring onions, a bok choy (I would imagine) of sorts, and other soaked root vegetables, it became a hearty meal indeed.

Ichi-ban Boshi serves are huge (see scale of chopsticks in picture) and filled me up well enough for lunch and kept me going so I only had to have...a hot chocolate and Oreos for dinner *blushes*. For the $11.50 paid this was well worth the amount of food presented, as well as the anticipation of coming here.

As a side note, a big draw for this place is its famed 15 bowls-a-day-only Tonkotsu Ramen, a dish made with pork, and, among few other things, collagen. Yes, the stuff that fake lips are made out of. Will be in early upon my next visit in order to sample this dish of curiosity!

2007-07-07T21:07:00.000+10:00

Instant Ramen has been a staple in my household for as long as I can remember. Easy to make, always delicious and generally awesome, I've oft considered the notion of moving out and eating nothing but ramen. The instant kind of ramen doesn't compare however, to some nice, freshly cooked fresh ramen that I was to receive at Ichi-ban Boshi.

Of course, being Korean, I have looked upon Japanese ramen with disdain, due to the consistent inability of the Japanese ramen I have tried to achieve the right type of spice to make that perfect bowl of ramen, and this was the case again. I went for the Tantanmen, which was delicious yet not quite fulfilling the requirements to be the "perfect bowl" that I was expecting from the recommendations I had heard. It was nice enough, but a tad bland. The servings are hearty, and the prices are low, perfect for students who want to eat a quick, filling dish.
I sound more disappointed than I actually was. A great place to go for lunch, the only downside being the wait for a table. The service is good, if a bit curt, and the atmosphere is very much food court-esque. I'd love to go back and try the other ramen on offer, but with Full House, Kura, Musashi, Ma Dang and a host of other excellent eats at the same price point abounding, it may suffer from the absurdly excellent competition in the area.

The Pyrmont Growers Market

2007-07-07T19:06:00.000+10:00

Pyrmont Bay Park opposite Star City Casino

First Saturday of Every Month
7am - 11am

What better way to start off a food blag with the ultimate in foodisity? 'TWAS A GROWERS MARKET.

This place is one that encapsulates the quality of Australian produce, the inventiveness of local inspiration combined with the fortune we have of multiethnic influence, and the sheer chutzpah of "because we can OKAY?" (seriously: caramelised onion and chilli jam!? omfg). With an almost provincial feel (ruined a little by the glitz of the building opposite and Sydney's tendency towards modernity *sigh*), the stalls that were visited - twice, maybe three times over - and picked over by the crowd kept a previously unfilled stomach and tired-this-is-way-too-goddamn-early eyes completely sated.

What an overload of sensory experience. Stand-outs included the oils and vinegars from Pukara Estate (yeah, that girl was kind of cute), the fudge from Bowral (don't usually like fudge!), the oozing amounts of honey (with such unique flavours and pairings: coriander honey!? almost like selecting a fine wine or cheese!!), and a lamb rissole to absolutely die for (it melted so beautifully in my mouth...it was about THYME). Also: samples are the new awesome.

And so came my undoing. Having a terrible weakness for food of the delicious kind, I decided to spend 80% of my weeks earnings, which I had only acquired the day before, as I excitedly jumped around to various stalls that had grabbed me on my previous visits. Lemon butter and passionfruit butter ("as if you can pass up a two dollar saving!?!111!!" or so my excuse goes), a fruit loaf THAT HAD WHOLE DRIED FIGS AND ALMONDS AND DRIED APRICOTS and who knows what other kinds of magical ingredients, chèvre fetta marinated in chilli and garlic (my salads are going to be amazing), honey spiced dry-roasted hazelnuts form Mudgee, and a velvety-rich brownie at a chocolate store, of which I forget the name of. Oh dear, what a shame - I may just have to go back next month to check out what it's assumed signage was.

So it goes.

2007-07-07T17:49:00.000+10:00

I figured that we couldn't call ourselves foodies until we had visited the growers markets, a place for niche and specialist food producers to gather and allow people like us to sample their produce, tempting us to purchase there oh-so-delicious goods.

Did they succeed? Holy shit yes.

There was some ridiculously delicious things around. The cute girl at the Pukara stand drew me toward the stand, but the beautifully viscous balsamic had me hooked. Some café that produces delicious things in the blue mountains had an outrageously delicious chutney that I am convinced would taste good on anything (even muesli :o ) Honest to god, I could probably live off that stuff.

A delicious sausage, with freakin' bacon included with the onion was consumed for breakfast, while the coffee of the morning was purchased from a stall that offered coffee beans grown in Australia. Terrible, terrible coffee. You'd think that a specialist coffee stall would have a barista with half an idea of what he was doing (I'd settle for a quarter!). Some beautiful cheeses were tried, a biscuit from whisk and pin did not fail to disappoint. The honey stall was a highlight of a long series of excitedly sampled things, with pooh having not one, but two blends at the table that day. La Tartine, a sourdough bakery, managed to produce bread so awe inspiring that it surpassed even Sonoma in my esteem. Not to mention, the description of the fruit loaf caused a friend to burst into tears at the sheer weight of awesome implied.

I'm determined to go next month and get some of that honey. and more bread. and some cheese. Just thinking about it makes me salivate.

I expect everybody to come to the markets next week.