CaB magazine
March 1993
YOU ARE WHERE YOU EAT
Restaurant Reviews by Dan Perlman
Travel has been hard for me ever since spending a day unsuccessfully searching Paddington Station in London for a bear from deepest, darkest Peru. So I looked with trepidation towards thirty hours in transit to the land of Oz. But according to our Editor-in-Chief, we have two, count them, two, paid subsribers in Sydney. Who am I not to serve our readership?
So here I am, sitting on a balcony above Mosman Bay, an extension of Sydney Harbour. The haunting throb of local kookaburras echoes around the marina. A small group of rainbow lorikeets are perched on the railing begging for food.
Three and a half million people seems a small number for a melting pot when you're used to New York City's teeming masses. But Sydney is a stunning metropolitan area with everything from high-rises to bushlands to white sand beaches, and people from all over the planet have been wandering in for decades.
This is a country where a local chef informed me the typical citizen is likely to be happy consuming "bangers and mash" three meals a day, every day. It seems a contest at times whether the traditional Britishisms of the cuisine will give way to the onslaught of Asian, North and South American, African, and other European culinary invasions.
Native Australian ingredients do find their way into dishes from around the globe. Warrigal greens, wattle seeds and Balmain bugs are common enough on menus. On the other hand, the "bush" fare of the indigenous aboriginal population is unlikely to touch the average Sydney-sider's palate. Witjuti grubs, blue-tailed skinks and fruit bats just aren't on the daily bill of fare. With this in mind, I set forth to find out just what was happening at the local fine dining establishments.
Every major city has one restaurant that is a local secret shrine of incredible dining that natives just refer to as "the restaurant." Sydney denizens have it lucky - hidden away in a back alley on a hill above Darling Harbour, theirs is aptly named simply, The Restaurant. Recommended by one of Australia's most noted food writers, Stephanie Alexander, the choice was confirmed by my companion as his favorite in the city.
Down a flight of carved stone steps, a glowing garden of tables invited us to sit outside the slightly austere dining room. Alerted in advance to the presence of your faithful reviewer, Chef Stefano Manfredi greeted us as swiftly as his thoroughly competent waiters. At his suggestion we bypassed the menu and let him treat us to a stream of Aussie-Italian gastronomy not to be missed.
We started with a basket of fresh bread dipped in a glassy pool of olive oil and a bottle of one of the best cabernet sauvignons I've had (Plantagenet Cabernet Sauvignon, 1986, from Mount Barker in Western Australia), with a taste of ripe plums, cinnamon and toasted oak. Our plated courses began with seared Queensland scallops on a bed of linguini and sun-dried tomatoes tossed with garlic-olive oil. Sorry Long Island, but these scallops had more sweetness and flavor in their, ummm, little fingers, than a dozen from the Sound. For a second appetizer, a local delicacy, yabbies (something like what you'd get if you crossed a crayfish and a shrimp) served with incredibly light spinach gnocchi in a pool of browned butter.
We were then presented with a fish course of savory grilled kingfish steaks atop sauteed Chinese greens and accompanied by an olive puree and a basil, parsley, garlic and olive oil salsa verde. A meat course of baby lampchops from the Illabo region (you know, over near Wagga Wagga...) roasted with new potatoes and rosemary was good, but I must admit, baby lambchops don't hold a candle to the adult ones in my palate. The final entree, roast pigeon (squab for the squeamish among you) was a stunning finish.
After a bit of time to settle comfortably, a platter of desserts was ceremoniously laid between us. A trio of baklava, an incredible pistachio mousse and slices of a delicious macadamia log was plated with scoops of outrageous pumpkin ice cream and tangy fruit sorbet. Scattered caramelized figs, and fresh rasp- and blueberries provided color and contrast. The Restaurant is a definite must-go when you visit Sydney.
The Restaurant, 88 Hacket Street, Ultimo, 281-2808. Cash or credit cards. Dinner $60-70 (US $40-45).
When the name of a restaurant comes up more than once in unrelated and unexpected conversation, I've been known to pay attention. A local chef had made a couple of his personal recommendations, and the young lady cutting my hair (and berating me for not doing it more often) announced firmly her favorite, a not to be missed, once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, on one of my solo nights out, I presented myself at Rockpool.
Located in the midst of The Rocks, Sydney's version of the South Street Seaport, only much more so, this art deco establishment serves up top-flight "new Australian" cuisine. The waitstaff is competent and efficient, albeit slightly stiff. An eclectic mix of local and imported ingredients are prepared by Chef Neal Perry with touches of French, Middle Eastern and Asian style.
Ice water is not an automatic assumption in Australia, and is generally difficult to convince anyone to bring you. Rockpool won immediate American points by offering (and refreshing throughout the evening) a large tumblerful. This was followed by a first course perched on an ornate silver stand with a mound of shaved ice, a generous spoon of sevruga caviar atop a fresh Sydney Harbour oyster. A light squirt of lemon and I was primed for an impressive evening.
The first wine selected by the chef was a young, lemony Clare Valley Riesling with slightly grassy overtones (Grosset Polish Hill 1992 from Auburn, South Australia). Accompanying was a delicious dish of beautifully plated slices of steamed crayfish on a bed of braised looko and lamb's lettuce and a sauce of olive oil, golden raisins, toasted pinenuts and strips of dried mango. A plate of crisp and savory pappadam triangles sat neatly on the side. This was followed by delightful sea scallops, seared and served with hummus and fava beans, all drizzled with a garlicky olive oil.
With a little respite to compose my appetite, my waiter delivered the next wine, a stunningly rich and buttery Chardonnay with a touch of toasted oak and crisp apples (1992 Pipers Brook Vineyard, from, oddly enough, Pipers Brook, Tasmania). the next course served up was the only disappointment of the evening. A Spanner crab and bean sprout omelette served in broth flavored with an Asian fish sauce. Unfortunately, the omelette became quickly soggy in the broth, and the sweet and delicate flavor of the crab was lost in the strength of the other flavors. However, this was immediately made up for with a main course of herb encrusted (turmeric, coriander, cumin, Spanish onion) salmon filet, pan-blackened and served with a red pepper sauce and savory roasted Szechuan eggplant.
The main course was followed by Rockpool's signature dessert, a date tart, filled with plump California dates baked in a custardy pastry cream. Sighing contentment, I was unprepared for a second offering of caramelized nectarines layered with crisp waffles. the whole assemblage sat amidst a pool of caramel and vanilla bean sauce, with a scoop of nectarine ice cream at the side. I couldn't have been happier, or fuller. Simply, add Rockpool to your Sydney itinerary.
Rockpool, 109 George Street, The Rocks, 252-1888. Cash and credit cards. Dinner $75-80 (US $50-55).
© 1993 Dan Perlman