The Unbearable Lightness of Being Hungry (a Sydney food blog)

Thank you

2012-03-07T23:41:00.004+11:00

There's a J. D. Salinger story where a character gives someone an "unpretentious bouquet" of parentheses. They looked a little like this: {{{}}}}. In a semi-similar fashion, I'd like to say thanks with a picture of cheese (see above, and enjoy).

Thanks to all the people who have left extremely thoughtful and lovely messages since I was made redundant from my day job at Inside Out magazine. (Also, thank you ex-workplace for the nice farewell work lunch at Bread and Circus in Alexandria). Losing your job isn't the greatest experience, but I'm choosing to see the upside to what's ahead.

Also, thanks to all the people who noticed that I've started writing for Good Living in the Sydney Morning Herald. I'm now the section's cafe reviewer and really enjoying it so far – the extra jolt from all that caffeine consumption is just an Energiser-Bunny kinda bonus. You can read my first review, on St. Jude in Redfern, online if you like. My most recent one, on PS Cafe in Dulwich Hill, was published in the newspaper this week; I'm not sure if it'll get a second life on the web, but if you're ever curious about the latest cafe I've been assigned, you can always pick up the Herald on Tuesdays. And if you do, here are some {{{}}}} as a thank-you from me …!

A Q&A with Everyday Eats editor Angie Schiavone (and book giveaway)

2012-02-27T23:29:00.007+11:00

This is your second year editing Everyday Eats, a food guide that singles out Sydney's best meals under $30. Have you found any noticeable differences (food-wise) between this year and last?
A lot of our old favourites thankfully haven't changed, but there’s certainly more Mexican to be had in Sydney. Korean is taking off in a big way, too. Bar-food menus are more interesting and appetising than ever before. There’s a fad for fried-food – including The Abercrombie's fried Gaytime!

What have been your favourite new discoveries?
So many! We've got 130-odd listings in this edition that weren’t in the last one. A few of the newbies that have got me excited are The Union at Penrith (tapas); Pizzeria Bellucci at Bankstown Sports Club (partly because the setting is so over-the-top: a recreation of an Italian piazza); Copo Cafe & Diner at Drummoyne; Caysorn Southern Thai restaurant at Haymarket (make a beeline to Caysorn if you like it hot! Order its sweet ice tea if you've overestimated your chilli tolerance!).

Last-minute contenders you wish had made it in?
The worst thing about a deadline is the inevitable next day discoveries! I’ve been hearing great things about Via Napoli, a pizzeria at Lane Cove where you order half or one metre pizzas; Five Dock has an Afghani restaurant called Bamiyan, which sounds really interesting; there are great new cafes opening all the time. The good thing is we can share tips like this through our Facebook and Twitter pages.

What are some of your favourite "everyday eats"?
I live in the inner west and my regular haunts include Faheem Fast Food (love its haleem "the king of curries"), Sultan’s Table (great for a group – such a crowd-pleaser, especially with dessert across the road at Cow & the Moon) and in Ashfield it's Shanghai Dumpling for lunch and Sky Mountain for dinner. I also really love modest family-run eateries, especially where they’re serving up less ubiquitous foods and get seriously excited when you ask questions and show an interest in the background of the food and culture it comes from. It might sound a bit over-the-top in the context of talking about cheap feeds, but love how much identity can be tied to food.

Everyday Eats is out tomorrow. And yep, I'm a tad excited about the release of the book as I'm one of its contributors. The Everyday Eats 'food award' categories will be announced in Good Living tomorrow, too. The publication will also be available as an app and you can keep updated on Everyday Eats through its Facebook and Twitter pages.

Thanks to Fairfax Books, we have five copies of Everyday Eats to give away, valued at $24.95 each. For your chance to win, leave a comment with your favourite "everyday eat" (include your email, so I can contact you if you end up scoring a book). I'll pick the winners on Tuesday March 6 (AEST). Good luck!

The Forresters, Surry Hills

2012-02-24T22:20:00.009+11:00

Once the hunting ground of punters after a $5 steak, now The Forresters is the latest offering from Jaime Wirth. He's the man behind the makeover montages for The Carrington, The Norfolk, The Abercrombie and The Flinders (Duke Bistro), and he knows how to extract fun and new life from fossilised, forgotten pubs.

Now The Forresters has been redesigned, with an Italian-American menu, a look inspired by a Sinatra casino and the very opposite of a $5 steak: Pay Day Pizza ($50), which offers your wages' worth of lobster, truffle and truffle salami. The rest of the menu is a lot more pocket-friendly, with a no-frills Spaghetti with Red Sauce ($7), awesomely trashy Crumbed Cauliflower ($8) with aioli and surprisingly untrashy Mac N Cheese ($18), made classy with blue cheese and a gritty topping of fried bread crumbs. It's a lot of fun. And to lighten the guilt about all the carbs, cheese and frypan overuse, there's a bracing Pea ($17) salad, all lemony and light with mint and snappy green beans and the right salt-punch of fetta. Will particularly enjoyed his Lamb Rotisserie ($25) with Italian slaw and taters and, if we hadn't maxed ourselves out entirely on this food, we would have also had the Tiramisu Knickerbocker Glory ($12) and Lemon Tart Thickshake ($7). But there's an easy way to troubleshoot that problem – more visits. It's not a place that takes itself too seriously (it's bound to bait people who get mad about pineapple on a pizza, for instance), but that playfulness is entirely the point.

The Forresters, Corner of Foveaux and Riley Streets, Surry Hills NSW (02) 9212 3035, www.forresters.com.au.

This week

2012-02-23T13:40:00.001+11:00

What a strange week it's been. It started off really great, I had a lovely birthday (birthdays are kinda rigged to be fun and awesome – even in that mopey film Sixteen Candles, she got that priceless kiss in the end) and that was a handy excuse to have a good dinner. My first great meal as a 31-year-old was the Lombardy regional dinner at Vini in Surry Hills. I'm still remembering the ravioli with potato mascarpone butter and the truly kick-ass panettone sandwiches with poached peaches and home-made mascarpone.

I was also lucky enough to given some wonderful presents – these are some of the semi-food-related ones: a lovely milk bottle/vase-in-disguise from my friend Beth; a bouquet of herbs from my friend Lisa's garden (the flowering chives are especially nice to look at) and a mini frypan from Daiso (my friend Sophie cutely said it was so I could make my own cafe-style eggs).

So that was all upside and then the downside came yesterday. I was made redundant from the magazine where I've worked for the last five years. I went home and made some green tea and felt really fine about it. It's funny how all the things that count against you – that somehow can "downgrade" any of your lifetime achievements – at a family gathering or school reunion actually are handy when this thing happens. I don't have kids and I don't have a mortgage, so it's a lot easier for me than other people. I have a good supply of genmaicha and two teapots (plus another for back-up) and a stovetop that can handle marathon brewing, so I feel pretty fortified. Plus I've got a bottle of slightly stronger stuff (yuzu liqueur) tucked away, just in case. So that's been the last week. It'll be interesting to see what happens next.

Kitchen By Mike, Rosebery

2012-02-10T23:49:00.001+11:00

For me, Rosebery has always been a suburb defined by speed bumps and 40 kph limits. It's where I learned to drive as a teenager and it was full of L-plated kids being overly sensitive with the accelerator pedal. Driving instructors loved Rosebery's enforced slowness; even wildcard adolescents couldn't help but keep their teacher's car – and blood pressure – safe.

Now this suburb has a far more thrilling attraction: today, Koskela opened its spectacular new design showroom and its charming inhouse cafe, Kitchen By Mike.

The Mike in question is Michael McEnearney, formerly a head chef at Rockpool; more recently he's spent Sundays running his Mike's Table pop-up dinners. His new operation is a bit of a Rockpool reunion (his head chef is Jeffrey De Rome, who used to work there; and manager George also spent years at Neil Perry's flagship restaurant). But it's actually London's Ottolenghi, with its hyperfocus on fresh, seasonal flavours and its hand-crafted approach, that has been a big influence on Kitchen By Mike.

Accordingly, at Michael's new eatery, there are salads so vibrant-looking and recently made that they're full of pixel-bursting, high-resolution colour; there's the snap and crunch of the Green Beans, Snow Peas, Hazelnuts and Orange ($3.50 per scoop) or the gorgeous Woodfired Vegetables ($3.50 per scoop), so thoroughly cooked through with lemon and marjoram that the taste of the roasted squash, capsicum and onion ends up ultra-sweet and concentrated (unless you love the full-squirm, tart-as-hell flavour of baked lemon though, watch out for those citrus wedges – otherwise experiencing this salad can be a game of Lemon-Eating Roulette). There's also a summery Tomato, Watermelon and Mint dish ($5 per scoop), as well as Green Figs with Blue Cheese, Cured Ham and Honey ($7 per scoop) and Pulled Pork with Mango and Coconut Chutney. Simplicity is the no-brainer appeal of the Margarita Pizza ($8.50 per slice), with its classic tomato-basil topping and well-puffed crust.

One of my favourite things at Kitchen By Mike is the Crunchie Banana Smoothie ($4.50), a liquid jackpot of full-cream milk, yogurt, honey, banana and roasted muesli – it's so good that it's worth the inevitable Smoothie Moustache you get from gulping it so quickly.

This rustic eatery also serves fresh-baked sweets – Walnut Cookies with Apple Jam ($1), Rosewater & Pistachio Meringues ($2), Gluten-Free Jaffa Cakes – and sells Iggy's bread, four-spice salt and a selection of jams, fruit and meat. The space itself is quite cool – tables are typographically branded with large numbers, oversized wicker lights dominate the room and the open kitchen is good for people/chef-watching. The rustic, farmhouse atmosphere is apt considering that Kitchen By Mike aims to eventually have a vegie plot and beehive outside.

Kitchen By Mike reminds me a little of Bread & Circus, which recently opened in neighbouring Alexandria. Both places reclaim the idea of healthy eating from the Diet 'n' Detox Fun Police and reinstate a little wonder into plates of food that might actually be good for you. If these cafes prove to be trend-starters, I'll be very happy. The upsides of eating well without trading off on flavour or enjoyment levels – Kitchen By Mike taps into this beautifully.

Kitchen By Mike, 85 Dunning Ave, Rosebery NSW (02) 9045 0910 www.kitchenbymike.com.au

David Chang, Corey Lee and Melbourne Food and Wine Festival

2012-02-06T23:58:00.001+11:00

Sometimes you hope for something so unlikely to happen that you can foresee the "Permission: Denied" reply before it even arrives. So, for work, I put in a request to do an email Q&A with David Chang and Corey Lee for Melbourne Food and Wine Festival, thinking it'd be knocked back because they are incredibly busy, acclaimed and in-demand chefs. (Incidentally, if you need to clue up on Corey Lee and his restaurant Benu, this much-cited tweet from David Chang is a good introductory course: "Benu in sf best restaurant in America? If not now then damn soon. Corey lee working w flavors that are on point. Run don't walk.") But, not only did things work out, request-wise, they both wrote surprisingly prompt, polite and thoughtful replies.

My favourite part was when David Chang explained which Australian chefs he was "crushed" by:

I’ve had so many amazing meals in Australia – Ben Shewry is doing awesome work at Attica, and I’m excited by the work the younger chefs in Sydney are doing – chefs like Dan Hong (Ms G’s), Mitch Orr, and Thomas Lim (both Duke Bistro). There is so much talent in Australia.

You can read the rest at the Inside Out blog. And if you're curious about Melbourne Food and Wine Festival, which features David Chang and Corey Lee and is on from March 2-21, head here.

Recent eats and other things

2012-02-02T00:25:00.002+11:00

Here are a few things that preoccupied me, appetite-wise, in the last week.

The Lamington Affogato ($6) at Sample Coffee Bar in Surry Hills. It's a 2-in-1 megahit of coffee and cake – and a fine enough reason to seek out this new-ish cafe. If you're looking for (heart) trouble, try its custom Pacemaker blend by Mecca.

Every visit to Black Star Pastry in Newtown seems to have a crush-renewing effect. Sure, it's easy to have a weakness for its classics – like the Strawberry Watermelon Cake with Rose Cream – but then this great patisserie will "entrap" you even further with a new must-order addition, like the highly summer-compatible Lychee and Malibu Granita ($6.50). Anytime anyone complains about there being nothing good in Sydney, I offer Black Star Pastry as a case-closing example of why they're wrong.

Next door to the cafe is the excellent Oscillate Wildly. It's the sort of restaurant where you can't recall how many times you've been ('cos it's a many-visit blur), but you clearly remember that each dinner has been reliably brilliant. We recently took some expat friends there – for a wedding present that wouldn't cause them excess baggage problems when packing for home. Every dish in the set degustation ($100) is spring-loaded with multiple flavours and lively textures. I especially loved the pine mushrooms with "needles" (as chef/owner Karl Firla points out – the luck of having these mushrooms growing in January!). The vego options are so very good and the rose sorbet with freeze-dried lychee and berries, violet and coriander cress was one of many hypercolourful standouts.

And while not strictly edible, I've lately been enjoying the Dinner Party Download podcast which has clued me into a) how to make a great Frito Pie (aka "walking tacos", "tacos in a bag" or, even better, "jailhouse tacos"); b) Chairlift's ideal playlist for entertaining guests; and c) the fact that Gary Oldman can play guitar upside down. A good gateway episode, if you haven't listened to this snappy program, is the List Show. It covers upcoming food predictions (doorknobs, blood and bark, anyone?) and other fine conversation-starting topics.

I'm also liking Food Is The New Rock, "a time wasting tumblr blog about musicians who love food, and food people who like music". Thanks to this procrastination-enabling resource, I've learnt that LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy is going to launch a coffee range, Wilco does a sideline in selling sandwich bags and "Food is like the new rock n’ roll, and Japanese knives are like the new electric guitar". Also, Food Is The New Rock's Twitter account is worth following for amusing samples like this: "Of course @davidchang and @luckypeach's Peter Meehan met at a @theholdsteady concert." Well, of course.

PS I'd love to know your favourite food-related podcasts and the unconventional food blogs you like to bookmark.

Sample Coffee Bar, 1A/118 Devonshire St, Surry Hills, NSW samplecoffee.com.au
Black Star Pastry, 277 Australia St, Newtown NSW (02) 9557 8656 www.blackstarpastry.com.au
Oscillate Wildly, 275 Australia Street, Newtown NSW (02) 9517 4700 www.oscillatewildly.com.au

MakMak lamington macarons

2012-01-24T19:46:00.000+11:00

Gold stars to MakMak for coming up with an excellent way to exercise your sweet tooth on Australia Day: lamington macarons. They come in these very gratifying flavours: Milo (yes!), Cream and Jam and Cream (the ones with the bonus red macarons on the side). They're a limited-edition range, sadly, so you can either hurry and get these brilliantly chewy, choc-dense, coconut-flaked macarons now (because they're gone once the public holiday hits) or flash-forward until next year when they make an appearance again. I say: hurry.

MakMak Macarons, call (02) 8095 0045 or see www.makmak.com.au for stockists

Bread and Circus, Alexandria

2012-01-18T00:05:00.001+11:00

At Bread and Circus in Alexandria, you won't see a thousand clowns jam themselves into a tiny car – instead, your attention may be redirected towards "life-alterating" Callebaut chocolate cookies, drinking coconuts, "circus soups", brews chosen by a "tea neurotic" and defiantly good salads.

If you think a "wholefoods canteen" is a total killjoy – a place where samey grains and humourless salads make too many cameos, then Bread and Circus is the nicest kind of counter-attack to this perspective. This is not an eatery you end up at because the Portlandia Fun Police guilt-tripped you into it, this cafe is where salad is the order you're most (voluntarily) excited about.

A "small" plate of salad is $12 and you can choose to fill up on one to five types: recent menu additions have included Basil-baked Vanilla Peaches in Agave Blue Cheese with Scattered Champagne Puy Lentils (especially brilliant), Chargrilled Eggplant Zucchini and Squash with Nashi-Pear-Tomato Relish and Parmesan Curls and Curried Cauliflower/Two-Potato Mix with Coriander and Minted Yogurt. There's no frumpy iceberg lettuce and tomato option or sad couscous mix with the odd fleck of spice and vegetable in it. Every salad I've had here seems to be stacked with flavour. Getting to pick-and-choose is a nice touch and the "small" serving size is pretty generous – I had to scoop part of mine into a takeaway container to save for next time.

Like the salads, the Circus Soups are made up of an interesting mixtape of ingredients – think Curried Fennel Carrot Coriander with Sneaky Coconut and Nashi Pear and Creamy Garlic Fennel & Leek with a bit of Broccoli & lots of Basil. The unlikely line-up of sweet potato with apple, lemongrass, galangal, coriander and coconut was particularly fun on my last visit – and it proved to be nice target practice for the slices of bread I dunked through it. You can commit to a bowl of one of these flavours ($14), or opt for a smaller one ($7) to cosy up with your salad.

There are fun drinks, too – a well-placed paper straw allows you to sip from a coconut ($4), you can order intriguing fruit blends (think orange/apple/pineapple/ginger juice) and I really would like to try something from the intriguing tea list when I next get a chance (Bamboo Whisked Premium Matcha sounds like a good bet, while the Classic and Quirky Blacks and Sublime Oolongs make convincing pitches). And when the weather gets cooler, a Stovetop Belgium Milk Chocolate might easily monopolise my drinks order.

On a first visit, Bread and Circus is a little tricky to find. There's no obvious signage and it is in fact camouflaged by the Don Campos cafe that is at the front of the warehouse complex. The lack of coffee on Bread and Circus's menu seems to deliberately encourage cross-border visits (the canteen's staff seemed pretty cool with people getting their caffeine fix from Don Campos). The decor itself adds a lot of personality to what would otherwise be a pretty drab industrial space. There are warm doses of colour (pink tiles, rustic table settings, flowers overwhelming recycled jars) and enough fruit and vegetable still-lifes-in-the-making to make anyone who clumsily stashes their produce into the crisper feel like they should smarten up their food presentation showmanship a bit.

The staff can sometimes take a little while to take your order – everyone seems to multitask, so they might be mid-salad-assembling when you're at the counter and waiting to pitch in with what specifically you'd like to eat and drink. They're very sweet, though. Curious about the "life-altering" chocolate cookie on offer, I asked the guy who took my order if he had tried it and if his life had indeed switched paths as a result. He answered by breaking the cookie into big pieces and offering me and my friend Cathy the samples. (It was pretty great.)

The canteen – which opened last month and is a long-awaited project for Amanda Bechara (you might know her food blog The Cake and The Knife) – also offers breakfast, by the way, which I might finally get around to ordering if I can break out of my one-track salad-obsessed spell. (Foxy Porridge, Morning Jumble and Parmesan Not-So-Scrambled Eggs are some of the options you can wake up with.)

If it's not already obvious from the pro-Bread-and-Circus slant of this post, I really like this place. One semi-grumble though – while most of the menu seems quite reasonable (especially the $4 drinking coconut), some of the pricing seems a little mystifying. $13, for instance, is maybe a tad too much for a takeaway egg sandwich. And a $9 juice is the sort of pricetag that makes me sad at airports. But maybe that just reflects the cost of organic produce and there's a lot on offer (like the $13 salad-stacked plate) that's good value.

During last week's Sydney-wide outbreak of Ira Glass fever, I recall This American Life's host asking why news had to be well-intentioned yet dull – entertainment was never allowed to overlap with anything serious. I feel the same way about "healthy food", that it often sends you on a Where's Wally?-style hunt for fun and flavour; it's about abstaining rather than rewarding. Bread and Circus nicely refuses that idea – it reanimates your interest in what's "good" for you by just making it taste damn enjoyable.

Bread and Circus, 21 Fountain St, Alexandria NSW www.breadandcircus.com.au

PS This canteen is amazingly vegetarian-friendly; there are also lots of offerings (like the Poached Organic Inglewood chicken with Lime Mayo & Salady Side Things that Will happily endorses) for non-vego significant others, too.

2011 favourites

2012-01-07T18:51:00.000+11:00

With everyone hitting memory lane at the moment, I thought I'd follow the same, well-worn path and revisit some favourite food experiences of 2011.

The year has unlatched many great surprises, from the Three-Milk Cake at El Capo – the Ryan Gosling of desserts, because it somehow becomes even more good-looking everytime you see it – to the delicious spiced rhubarb with soda at Duke Bistro (maybe my favourite drink of the year?).

My favourite meal of 2011 was at Momofuku Seiobo in Pyrmont (you can read my overdetailed, epic recap of the dinner here), while the place I could not stop revisiting was 121BC in Surry Hills, an excellent wine bar that actually ends up giving dark alleys a good name. The food there is gorgeous and so well-priced; and the staff so good-humoured that you don't mind the wait when it's inevitably busy or crowded. I wanted to propose marriage to the Eggplant, Provolone and Romesco Sauce sandwich at Sonoma's newest cafe in Alexandria. Similar expressions of lifelong commitment did cross my mind also for the choc-sponge with passionfruit mousse, praline and meringue at Bourke Street Bakery's new diner, Wilbur's Place.

The Bridge Room was an elegant addition to Sydney's restaurant scene. Its Strawberry Marshmallow Meringue with strawberry paper, yogurt and ripple invites joyful destruction with a spoon. This place is also proof that you needn't freak out if there's nothing you can eat on the menu – there are excellent vegetarian options if you just ask (and none of them a tired mushroom risotto).

I enjoyed the revamped Oscillate Wildly (which my friend Tom endorses as being better than Quay – at a fraction of the price) and Claude's (where the Tuesday series of "Mighty Bouche" dinners proved to be a lot of fun).

Hinky Dinks proved time travel was possible via barstool (and via the right old-school cocktail). And by the standards of any era, this '50s-charged bar is also a great place to be.

We also went long-distance dining, driving 220kms in one evening just to get to Biota Dining in Bowral, where each dish crackled and popped with flavour.

I went further than that to see UK jellymongers Bompas & Parr put on a sugar-laced and gelatin-set event with Burch & Purchese at Melbourne's Food and Wine Festival. The wobble of the architectural jellies and all-you-can-eat confectionery wonderland made the trip worth it.

And for some other 2011 highlights, here's a rundown of what was impressing me earlier this year.

Cornersmith, Marrickville

2011-12-28T14:15:00.002+11:00

The first day that Cornersmith opened, the cafe managed to smoke out everyone I know from their nearby homes. Most new places are slow to be discovered, but this joint was full-blaze packed from the start. Maybe it says something about the pent-up hunger for a good new place to get coffee and breakfast in Marrickville. And maybe it says something about the worthwhile things on offer at Cornersmith.

The cafe is run by James Grant (previously at Allpress Espresso and Mecca) and his wife, Alex Elliot-Howery (who makes the in-store preserves with her friend Jaimee Edwards; prior to this, Alex started Pigeon Ground with Agatha Gothe-Snape). On the garage roof behind Cornersmith, the couple keeps an urban beehive. The collected honey, so thick you could sculpt it, makes the short trip to your plate when you order the excellent Ricotta, Baked Peach, Almond Toast ($8) – the knockout sweetness of the ultra-cooked fruit is especially moment-stopping. Other great sandwiches that have appeared at Cornersmith include the Two Cheese and Pickle ($7), a melty merger of vintage cheddar, goat's cheese and chilli-preserved zucchini; and the combination that sees Apple Jam and Goat's Cheese spread on toast and sprinkled with sesame seeds ($8). There's also a Mulberry Yogurt Shake ($3 for kids/$6 for grown-ups) to remedy any post-carb thirst.

These items have been part of Cornersmith's limited (but excellent) selection since it started two Saturdays ago. Like most cafes at this time of year, it's now on a break and its doors open again on Tuesday January 10, with a new menu and shelves restocked with home-made pickles and fresh-made condiments. So far, as a small-scale preview, Cornersmith has been doing brilliantly. Bring on the full-strength 2012 reboot.

Cornersmith, 314 Illawarra Rd, Marrickville NSW (02) 8065 0844. You can also follow Cornersmith on Facebook.

Wilbur's Place, Potts Point

2011-12-17T00:11:00.007+11:00

It turns out that there's no cap on how awesome Bourke Street Bakery can be. The team behind that Sydney institution has a new spin-off, Wilbur's Place in Potts Point, and not only is it great – you don't need to practice your poker face when you get the bill. It's refreshingly affordable: lunch starts from $7, desserts from $5 and dinner will still score you change from a $20 bill. The menu is, with the exception of bread, completely different to Bourke Street Bakery's usual line-up. Pop in after 6pm and there's a very likeable take on eggplant parmigiana that's only $14, and its secret weapon is the toasty, fried crunch of sourdough crumbs – delicious grit to the lovely mess of melted cheese, pesto, grilled eggplant and tomato. Do ask about the specials, as that's how I got clued in about the Flourless Chocolate Sponge – a total superhero of a dessert in that its meringue surface masks its knock-out power: the nutty praline base and jackpot seam of passionfruit mousse. And if you don't have time to take a seat at the counter or the communal table outside, don't worry, as "We are all about take-away" says the kitchen's sign. I'm not sure whether I'm going to "grab and go" on my next visit, but I forecast a high probability of an order of the Toasted Brioche Ice Cream Sandwich ($7).

Wilbur's Place, 36 Llankelly Place, Potts Point NSW (02) 9332 2999, www.wilbursplace.com

Gelato Messina Lab, Darlinghurst

2011-12-12T23:11:00.001+11:00

The Gelato Messina Lab is finally open. There are no test results or case-cracking white coats on show, just low-temperature patisserie treats. There's an ice-cream burger, a "villainous" dessert called Mini Me (it deceptively harbours Dr Evil Chocolate, dulce de leche jam and peanut butter biscuit on top of a "grassy" base of pop rocks) and Messina's own version of Bombe Alaska ($7.90), which has torched Italian meringue and white chocolate and hazelnut croccantino.

From the smart-alec team that gave you gelato flavours such as Elvis: The Fat Years, Isn't That A Salad? and Hansel He’s So Hot Right Now, the patisserie menu also features wise-cracking names, such as a sweet called Ugly Balls (no explanation necessary) and a rectangular-shaped ice-cream sandwich that has a forgivably Dad-joke-like title: Darlo Bar.

My favourite, so far, is the Samurai ($7.90), which doesn't involve any swordplay – just a yuzu sorbet coated in orange-scented chocolate, with blood-splatter-like splashes of caramel. For a dessert that obviously has gory origins, it makes an elegant impression. And the peppery-citrus/sweet-choc combo is so zippy and fine that you're quickly left with just a paddle-pop stick and a flash memory of the Samurai's visit.

With so many sweet-tooth-seeking gems on offer, you inevitably end up with a mental bottleneck of what to order … Or a fixation with future purchases – I've already pre-thought-out my next pick: it'll be the Kova Pavlova ($11.90) with its passionfruit-dusted meringue, vanilla gelato and raspberry jelly.

I first found out about the patisserie lab in April, when I interviewed Gelato Messina's Nick Palumbo. He had been thinking beyond the world of scoops and cones for a while, but there was some training needed to get people adjusted to making deep-freeze desserts. "All the pastry chefs go 'yeah yeah, I know what I’m doing', but they forget that gelato melts." Incorporating other elements with ice-cream also comes with its own headaches – getting a macaron to stay crispy in a sub-zero cabinet is a tricky affair, for instance. You might get a sense of how these things come together when you visit the lab, because the workspace is merged into the actual patisserie – entry into the shop can feel like scoring a guest pass right into the kitchen.

So, that's the Gelato Messina Lab. No need to run any complicated tests to know why it's worth a visit.

Gelato Messina Lab, next door to Shop 1/241 Victoria St, Darlinghurst NSW (02) 8354 1223, www.gelatomessina.com.au. You can also get 'Flavour Alerts' by following Gelato Messina on Twitter or Facebook.

Breakfast at Orto Trading Co.

2011-11-30T23:00:00.005+11:00

From the people who used to make your weekend breakfast great when they ran Baffi & Mo comes … weekend breakfast at Orto Trading Co (a new thing, even though the restaurant has been open since April). Zero surprise: these guys still know how to nail that first meal of the day. You can order good ole eggs and sides, or venture out a little and try the Breakfast Platter ($14) with soldiers, soft-boiled-egg for military-target dunking, a mini jar of muesli and a jumble of berries over baked ricotta. And somehow the carbo-heavy nature of the feta-stuffed Potato Rosti ($18), stacked with mushrooms, spinach, egg and hollandaise, proved no commonsense barrier to me also ordering the hand-cut chips, which are gorgeous (literally and flavour-wise): rosemary salt scattershot over thick wedges of Tasmanian russet potatoes, all tucked into an old-fashioned paper cone, so that each chip fans out on the wooden board it's served on. (Unlike my uncivilised morning appearance, my food looks ultra-styled and magazine-worthy.) And if you're feeling pretty right-on when you first get up, you can order a Breakfast Cocktail ($15-$18.50) – mimosa, espresso martini, bloody Mary or rhubarb fizz, take your alco-charged pick.

Incidentally, if you have a weakness for Orto Trading Co., you can vote for it in the Best Eats category of FBi Radio's SMAC Awards, just announced today. Also shortlisted are ace places like The Dip and Fouratefive. Find out more at SMAC Awards.

Orto Trading Co., 38 Waterloo St, Surry Hills NSW 0431 212 453, www.ortotradingco.com.au

Momofuku Seiobo, The Star, Pyrmont

2011-11-22T01:06:00.009+11:00

There was megawatt hype surrounding Momofuku Seiobo before it even opened a few weeks ago, and the restaurant didn't so much quietly launch as blast off. With supercharged interest in David Chang's new Sydney venture – his first outside his New York empire – every minor move and detail was reported on before diners even entered the establishment. Maybe certain media outlets have returned to a stable condition after becoming hilariously over-obsessed with the online booking system (did it really deserve a news story on ABC radio, for instance?) – somehow people are really freaked out by the idea of setting up a login to make a reservation for a restaurant! It's not exactly something you need heavy I.T. back-up for, and I wonder if these same people also need someone to hold their hand to buy books and music (or anything!) on the internet, too?

There's also been many column inches on whether Chang's famous pork bun would take up dual residency and spend time on his Sydney menu, too (given the fanfare/gushing that his signature dish has notched up over time, media interest directed at this is way less baffling). And maybe you can measure a restaurant's hype by the slight amount of crazy that you are willing to indulge to get a seat there. So, when reservations first became open – offering only 10 days to pick from – the only night I was "free" was the same date I was moving house. So I went with that.

After you get up at 5am to pack the hell out of your flat for the 7.30am arrival of removalists, only to spend the rest of the day sweatily carting everything up four flights of stairs, the idea of sitting down, period, is the most luxurious concept in the world. Even sitting down and eating a meal that actually involves cutlery (or a plate instead of a takeaway paper bag) feels like five-star decadence. But I don't think that was the commanding reason that Momofuku Seiobo outblazed so many dining experiences we've had. There's nothing standard-issue about this restaurant – it is a pretty exciting place to be.

Black bars lace up and down the exterior of Momofuku Seiobo – these view-obscuring lines almost camouflage the restaurant; stealing an outside glimpse is like trying to pry through someone's venetian blinds. It's the opposite (literally and direction-wise) to Adriano Zumbo across the walkway – dark, low-key and closed-off compared to the hyper-bright, attention-seeking patisserie funhouse. (Even though the contrast levels could not be higher, both spaces are actually designed by the same Sydney studio, Luchetti Krelle.) Inside, the restaurant is understated and dark – but everything is far from hidden. In fact, if you're lucky enough, you'll end up staggeringly close to the chefs in the most open of open kitchens I've seen. The borderline between you and them is a Japanese-style bar, and as you sit there, your focus pinballs between all the cooking and plating up and dishes coming to ingredient-by-ingredient life. It's a visual primer on hierarchy, with the most junior chefs at the back and the higher in ranks at the front or centre: Ben Greeno (head chef), Clayton Wells and Chase Lovecky (sous chefs) and, when we were there, Peter Serpico (from Momofuku Ko and consultant at Seiobo) and, of course, David Chang.

At first, just sitting one or two plates away from the chefs preparing your meal – and being able to watch how their night unfolds (without really a private moment to themselves) – feels a little intrusive, like you're prying. But eventually, the self-consciousness (yours and theirs) clears away; and then it feels like a great instance of luck, like when you realise your concert tickets happen to be, thrillingly, in front row. Not only did we get an up-close and high-definition perspective of the bustle of the kitchen, we were served by Ben Greeno, the English head chef (who is no stranger to Michelin-starred kitchens, having worked at Noma and acclaimed restaurants in France, the UK and Denmark, as well as all the Momofuku outposts). Soft-spoken, approachable and unassuming, he comes across as very likeable. (Also, he kindly answered my many, many questions with superhuman patience. If they roll back Seiobo diners' abilities to directly and freely talk to the chefs, my nosiness may be to blame. Sorry!)

The first dish Ben Greeno gave us was a snack plate, with a dehydrated shiitake chip (imagine an ultra-mushroom-concentrated crisp), nori that resembled a prawn cracker and spicy mochi. It was kinda fun, like a fine-dining take on Asian supermarket nibbles.

Enter stage right, the famous Pork Bun, with its dynamite mix of pork belly, cucumber, hoisin and apply-as-necessary sriracha hot sauce. I could see Will's brain go "!!!!!!!" as he ate it. Mind blown with every bite. I was given a version with some heavy-hitting shiitake, which might've resulted in the odd internal exclamation mark, too.

Sliced Trumpeter made the first of two tasting-menu appearances, accompanied by swirls of native warrigal greens and furikake (a Japanese seasoning often sprinkled on rice). The vegetarian version had Golden Beets and pickled golden raisin. That was followed by ribbons of grilled asparagus, dressed with lemon puree and Marron with white asparagus and Szechuan white pepper for Will.

We compared the Momofuku Seiobo experience to being at a gig. All we knew was that it would take at least two hours and although we could optimistically squint at the "set list" taped on the kitchen counter, we had no idea what was coming next. And like a concert, the build-up was key, with warm-up numbers at the start and proceedings amping up and bigger hits saved 'til closer to the end. We both really liked the next dish and it felt like things were really starting to jack up. My course was presented beautifully – pink-edged radichio leaves served with fermented black bean, radish and watermelon 'ash'. Will's variation came with wagyu beef. I liked how lively mine was – and how the burnt watermelon was a total coinflip, flavour-wise, both charred-through yet zippy, refreshing.

Will also loved the Smoked Eel Dashi with summer vegetables, accompanied by eel brandade. My Shiitake Dashi was a full-punch broth, nothing watery or flavourless about it all. Near the bottom of the bowl, it did become a little salt-bomb-ish, though. The accompanying pomme purée (sweet, rich and amazingly soft – like fried potato in cloud form) with black truffle shavings was pretty awesome.

Described plainly as Spanner & Swimmer Crab; butter, pepper and biscuit, this course was actually a reimagined Yorkshire pudding with the aforementioned crustacean. I was given a cauliflower dish which was baffingly great. Somehow, grilled cauliflower (which is heavyweight amazing in its own right) paired with the pickled part of the same vegetable, is a knockout. The crunch of pistachio is just a bonus.

Dear Egg, Toasted Rice, Brown Butter, you won this round – you fooled me into liking slow-cooked egg. It's a fine-dining staple I usually am grossed out by – it often just tastes like yolky goo to me. But this was really substantial, more like a savoury custard. I also liked the added sprinkle of green tea leaves and roasty brown rice. It reminded me of genmaicha, I thought. "That's basically what it is," said Ben Greeno.

During the night, we'd seen the chefs open containers marked "pickled tomato" and we were wondering when it'd finally get acquainted with our plates. Turned out this ingredient was rolling with the Hand-Torn Pasta crew, and what an entourage. Fat ribbons of pasta with deep-fried mint, chilli, secret-weapon tomato (sweet, deeply flavoured, with a zingy, tart twist) and goat's curd that had been aerated to the point it was as whispery mild as ricotta. This course was an open-and-shut case of "whoa, amazing!". While it seemed like an ultra-contemporary Italian offering, the Asian chilli accent clues you into its origins – it's actually inspired by a dish that David Chang had in Cambodia. He then served his staff a version that had rice noodles before it was reincarnated into this pasta rendition.

Striped Trumpeter got an encore performance. Sourced from Mark Eather, it also used the head and bones as a broth, so you experienced three ways of one fish; it received plate back-up from fried-potato-like soil, stem of broccoli and some horseradish.

Leek flower, charred and caramelised, partnered with pickled mustard seed was my next round.

Around this point, pork shoulder "sugary, messy and cooked for 10 hours" appeared like a guest of honour, getting major attention under a heat lamp in the centre of the kitchen. David Chang explained to the diners next to us that it had just came out of the oven."Here's some wet towels," he said, as he served them the gloriously finger-staining course.

Sous chef Clayton Wells (Quay, Tetsuya's, Noma) explained that restraint was rather hopeless in such a circumstance, even for the chefs: "Every night you promise that you're not going to eat the pork and then you do."

On the tasting-menu front, the only thing I didn't entirely love was the pickled turnip in the next dish. It was like a saxophone solo: overamplified, earning attention for all the worst reasons and a misfit – it just didn't go with anything (sorry jerusalem artichoke and crispy potato – you really tried to make it work).

OK, I always like the idea of a cheese plate, but the whole it's-dessert-or-cheese protocol is a total bust. By the time you've blitzed your savoury courses, there is no stowaway room for end-of-night servings of brie or cheddar. (My Liz Lemon-style idea of a perfect restaurant is where you can happily order a cheese plate first, carbo-destruct on bread and then factor in dessert.)

So in light of this, Momofuku Seiobo had a genius/oddball (often the same thing, right?) solution, where cheese = dessert. Tiny tiny curls of pecorino were served with licorice honey and cider jelly.

The next dessert felt like childhood bedtime, with malt ice-cream, wattleseed, meringue and crispy milk skin that fans out fantastically like mushroom gills or tidal drift washed up on a sandbank. I don't mind toasted milk skin, but am wondering if it's going to be the culinary equivalent of Autotune (used everywhere to the point of overkill?). In a small amount of time, it has appeared in a lovely dessert at Oscillate Wildly; Tom tells me it popped up at Quay during a recent degustation, and now, here.

And then to close, miso ice cream, dehydrated fruits, rice pudding and, yes, mustard.

So that was it. Or was it? The pork shoulder, on bright-lit display in the kitchen, confused us. We'd seen other people around the room tear into it, safeguarded by an ample napkin supply, but it hadn't ever appeared on Will's menu. But its logical sequence, before the desserts, had never eventuated. Maybe it was a special thing, just reserved for select diners, not nobodies like us.

And then, like a concert that you thought had ended, here was a truly unexpected encore. Instead of dainty petits fours, the very last thing served is the Candied Pork Shoulder. (Incidentally, the couple beside us had been wondering about why they hadn't yet gotten the pork, too. "We thought we'd done something wrong!") Will asked David Chang, who had presented him with the course, why he chose to finish things this way, instead of with traditional dessert. He looked like he was weighing up whether to tell the long-form (footnotes and everything) version. But after pausing, he said, "the short answer is 'Why not?'"

Given that David Chang made his name reordering the rules, this seems perfectly logical.

And, you can see why he would choose this point to be the finishing line. The way people react to the candied pork – it's like they've taken a wonder drug. It's a knockout moment – the perfect instance to wind things up.

If you're a vego, you get super-sweet roasted carrot served with bitter greens. And yes, you eat it, messily, with your fingers, too. I love that that's the totally unpretentious way that Momofuku Seiobo interprets fine dining conduct.

I also love that, by the time service is over, you can actually chat a little to the chefs. We asked Ben Greeno where he liked to eat in Sydney and he shortlisted Ms G's and Duke Bistro. What a full-circle compliment, as David Chang's way of compounding fine-dining with limitless daring and fun feels like it was a vital inspiration to those restaurants. (Also, the latter establishment seems to be an inhouse favourite; Clayton Wells recently tweeted: "Freak night off... Where else but @dukebistro good times!"). We wondered, too, if Ben Greeno found it awkward or confronting to be so exposed to all the diners, given the open-kitchen set-up. He said at the beginning of the night, it is a bit strange, but people get more relaxed as the night goes on (or diners slowly become more drunk). I had to pipe up and say how impressed I was by the vegetarian menu – how nice it was that it wasn't afterthought food and that it was truly adventurous. "Thanks for not doing the cliche of beetroot and goat's curd," I said. "Or mushroom risotto," he said. Yes! A chef that is on side! He said they would do more vegetarian if they could. He also talked about adjusting to the differences in Australia – how even the water is different and ingredients (cream, for instance) doesn't have the same fat content. He was incredibly won over by some of the produce here, especially the Mark Eather fish.

Something I also really liked about Momofuku Seiobo was the music. You know it's going to play a role when you walk into the restaurant and there are two massive photographs of Angus Young. Apparently they're there because AC/DC is "Australia's greatest export". As for the restaurant soundtrack, it switches from Yeah Yeah Yeahs to The Kinks to Wilco to Grandmaster Flash. It even progresses through the night – it started all dad-rock when we arrived, got a little '90s angst and then post-9pm, it was like an endless hip-hop mixtape. The playlist is picked by David Chang and it's refreshing to hear some personality in what's aired, instead of audio wallpaper, like smooth jazz or some generic (ugh) chill-out compilation (please stop making those things). Will and I alternated between going "oh, it's this song!" to Shazaming the remaining tracks. And as one waiter said, it's more fun to work to.

And as for some of the criticisms Momofuku Seiobo has received (mainly for the online booking system and having to pay the $175 tasting-menu price if you cancel on short notice), it's way less annoying than trying to get through to a restaurant with an endlessly busy line/no answering machine, a restaurant that has a six-month wait for a Saturday evening service or a popular place that takes no reservations at all or only lets you in after crazy-long queues. I'd take booking online over any of those scenarios – and the Internet option is so lazybones-friendly, you don't even need to get out of bed to do it. This system is no more inconvenient than trying to buy concert tickets – and if you don't turn up to a gig, the promoter already has charged your credit card, anyway. Also, the hard-luck whining about how "difficult" it is to get into an expensive restaurant is so hilariously "first world problem" that it really doesn't deserve the media attention it's received.

Even though it's been open for less than a month, there's already speculation that Momofuku Seiobo is going to change Sydney dining. I'm no forecaster, but I do know that this restaurant has an uncapped imagination and a livewire sense of culinary adventure. It's not tailing behind any other local establishment for ideas, it is resolutely and confidently doing its own thing. Momofuku Seiobo is smart, pathbreaking, energised and a megadose of fun. Go grab a seat.

Momofuku Seiobo, The Star, 80 Pyrmont St, Pyrmont NSW (it's located opposite Adriano Zumbo). www.momofuku.com/restaurants/seiobo

Fratelli Fresh, Bridge St, Sydney

2011-11-09T23:44:00.006+11:00

Sydney seems to have a limitless addiction to Fratelli Fresh and the new outlet that opened today in the city is only going to refuel that fixation. Hidden in a sandstone basement opposite the stock exchange, it expands on the usual "Cafe Sopra plus gourmet grocer" template with a mozzarella bar, where you can order highly shareable snacks such as the lovely Crostini of Crushed Peas with Bocconcini, with its lemon-zest zing and mint sharpness; the lively Buffalo Mozzarella with Grilled Eggplant, Roasted Chilli and Mint and an Affettati Misti, a meat plate with Parma ham, ham-ham, bresaola, spicy salami and a compulsory dairy cameo in the form of smoked mozzarella. This mozzarella bar is also part-pizzeria, where melted cheese and carbs come in fine "more please" combinations such as Funghi, Smoked Mozzarella (you again!) and Arugula ($18). And then there was the makeshift "dessert bar" that Amy, Ben, Sarah and I created just by ordering lots of sweet courses – Meringata with Berries and Yogurt Cream, Chocolate Torta with Candied Blood Orange and the famous/compulsory Banoffee Pie and dividing that as much as four spoons would allow. Plus, there's also the "aperitivo bar" for grown-up boozing and a section for adding homewares and fresh produce to your shopping basket. And I'm not sure what the story is with the random lilies "sprouting" from industrial fittings in the Mike Delaney (Duke, The Carrington) interior design, but it's another thing I like (and the lack of queues at the moment is also a bonus).

Fratelli Fresh, 11 Bridge Street, Sydney NSW (02) 8298 2701, www.fratellifresh.com.au. Follow on Facebook

A Q&A with Alon Sharman, Arras

2011-10-27T14:36:00.001+11:00

Prior to being the restaurant manager and head sommelier at Arras, you were at Quay. What were some standout memories from your time there?
Choosing wine for U2; chasing Russian President Putin’s minders for an outstanding account of $17000 (which they paid in cash); having to justify the decor to guests – in one instance, a couple was so offended by the carpet that they refused to walk in. However, the highlight would have to be innocently turning a corner backstage at a Myer fashion show that was being held in the function room and being confronted with Jennifer Hawkins wearing only a smile.

The Arras menu leaves much to the imagination: past examples include “A Day At The Seaside”, “Ta, Jean”, “Life Gave Us Lemons And Limes And ...” and “A Cinematic Souffle”. How hard is it to convey each mysteriously named dish to diners?
After many years, I feel I have a handle on taking complicated and extensive tasting notes and communicating the key elements in one or two sentences. What we do is take two-dimensional words on paper and build colour, taste and smell. Some guests get frustrated with our menu because we take control away from them – traditionally you receive a menu and you choose based on a list of items that sound appetising, however [chef] Adam [Humphrey]’s food is so layered and often conceptual that it requires verbal communication. The key is not to overload your descriptions and leave elements of surprise!

Have you had any memorable diner reactions?
You’re never going to please everyone every time! I remember one guest (who comes regularly now) pulling me aside at the end of his meal and telling me he had come on a recommendation from a friend who was a real foodie and that he was almost ready to walk out after being handed the menus because of the names of the dishes – he thought it was all a joke. I think we offer a different experience and even after three years most people are not fully prepared for the ride; most importantly, we have a lot of people smiling at the end and thanking us for the experience.

You maintain the wine list at Arras. How do you track down hard-to-source wines and how hard is it to keep “in the loop” and “well-researched” without taxing your liver too much?
My liver and I get along quite well nowadays, there have been times in the past where we weren’t on speaking terms. I am passionate about wine. You don’t need to drink a bottle to get a sense of what a wine is, just a mouthful will do which you generally spit out (not at the dinner table, of course). Tasting, reading and listening is the best way to find out what’s about, fortunately winemakers and wine reps usually come to me. It’s no different to any other profession, you have to stay on top of the subject – responsibly!

At the 2011 Good Food Awards, you were (deservedly!) honoured with the Silver Service Award. I think in your speech you mentioned that you’d recently had a baby. Was it a surprise to have won, and how tricky is to juggle restaurant life with everything else?
The award was a huge surprise. There is almost no avenue for recognition for front of house, so to receive this award is very humbling. There is only a very small amount of people who have received this honour, so it makes me think I’m doing something right. I have two beautiful boys Kai and Jethro, I do my best to balance work and home life as many fathers do; when I’m with my boys I’m with them 100 per cent, but it still bothers me that I’m only home two nights a week to put them to bed.

When you go out to dine, are you hyper-aware of service or do you like to “switch off”?
I am pretty relaxed when I dine out. I think initially when I sit down, I quickly take in the environment, meaning I look at how many staff members are on, are they in jeans or pants, the condition of the menus presented, small things that give me a picture of the level of service I should expect, then I just enjoy myself. My wife, on the other hand, has never worked in or near a restaurant in her entire life, but she loves analysing all the little things – she becomes the hyper-aware one!

And what is service like at home?
I only have two nights a week to eat with my wife and kids, so meal times are very important to me. I enjoy making dinner and exposing new foods and flavours to my boys.

Arras is one of my favourite restaurants in Sydney – it turns a simple mealtime into picturebook magic. Your table ends up filled with dishes that are hugely fun and stunning; the all-you-can-eat petits fours plate feels like a cash-in of all your childhood wishes and the service, headed by Alon, is brilliant. After relocating from Walsh Bay to the city, the latest incarnation of the restaurant opens today. I personally can not wait to try the new menu and see what the redesigned space is like.

Arras, 204 Clarence Street, Sydney NSW (02) 9283 1922, www.restaurant-arras.com.au

This interview originally appeared in my food zine, sadly now sold out. Photos courtesy of the restaurant

Wedge Espresso, Glebe

2011-10-25T14:36:00.002+11:00

The name is a giveaway – coffee is the lifeblood of Wedge Espresso. This new Glebe cafe also does a fine sideline in other sip-worthy drinks: there's the Ice Milo ($5), with its crunchy landmass of malt grains afloat milk and ice-cream. At the bottom is a genius ground-level layer of Milo – so there's a chocolatey jackpot of flakes that greet you once you've tipped everything else down your throat. There's also an elegant ice tea, which is as blush-pink as the rose petals in it, and is a subtle mix of Ceylon orange pekoe, hibiscus and silver jasmine. And in the experimental stages is a cold-drip coffee mixed with a Coke slushie – yes. Even though it sounds like a total caffeine bomb, I happily said yes to a sample I was kindly given. Cafe owner Toby described it as tasting like Chinotto. And even though I am not an Italian old man (they were the only ones who bought the drink when I used to work in a Haberfield corner shop), this comparison appealed to me. After some "brave" sips, it turned out the coffee/slushie combo was not so madcap. I dug the cool, bitter flavour.

You can also trust Wedge Espresso to do good things with a slice of bread, as its Shaved Dried Fig, Pistachio and Ricotta with Rosewater Honey on Fig Sourdough ($9) proves. It's a gorgeous breakfast item – light and sunny-day compatible. The Brekky Bruschetta special, with its jumble of strawberries, pistachios, dates and ricotta on top of banana bread sounds like something worth slicing up, but sadly was unavailable when I was there - it's gonna be drafted back onto the menu soon, though.

I admit, I was guilty of judging on first sandwich appearances, as the vego option didn't seem as exciting as the meaty ones (Pulled Pork with Plum Sauce, Spring Onion, Mint and Coriander; Lemon and Sage Poached Chicken with Avocado, Rocket and Mayo), but the pared-back combination of tomato, basil and airy ricotta dressed with olive oil and lemon, toasted, turned out to be really lovely.

I'm glad that Wedge Espresso ended up in Glebe instead of the initial location of Surry Hills, a suburb that is unlikely to ever suffer a cafe drought. This place is, as the name suggests, as narrow as a doorstop, but has lots of diner-charming appeal: the large, open windows that allow you to stretch out your elbows and bank up on generous doses of sunshine; the cute pots of thyme decorating the tables; the industrial fit-out with bright-red pipes and corrugated walls (the rustic stools, incidentally, are Ikea staples slicked up with a coat of leftover paint from the pipes). And this cafe has good cred, the owner used to be at Le Monde in Surry Hills and one of the (much-recognised) baristas is from Luxe Espresso in Newtown. It's another worthy place to spend breakfast – and other meal/snack/drink-sipping times.

Wedge Espresso, 53-55 Glebe Point Rd, Glebe (enter on Cowper Street). Follow Wedge Espresso on Twitter.

Adriano Zumbo, The Star, Pyrmont

2011-10-17T23:59:00.002+11:00

The thrill of a kid hopped up on sweets – that's the feeling Adriano Zumbo wants to evoke in his new patisserie.

This outlet, located at The Star, lives up to his sugar-powered hopes: the interior is one long headbuzz of fun. Step into this wonderland and you'd be convinced you could troubleshoot the world's problems by simply eating macarons.

The "in case of emergency, break glass" displays only reinforce this. To get to the rows of Cola, Blood Peach and Lime & Mint Mojito flavours though, crazy Thor-style hammer action isn't necessary – just a non-violent unlatching of the door will do.

The playful interior also includes a dessert train, which zips cakes and confections through the room on a conveyor belt – the only time traffic flow would inspire your sweet tooth.

Printed across the walls, like lines of edible code, are confetti-bursts of macarons. This graphic reproduction of Zumbo's flavours is inspired by the lickable wallpaper in Charlie & The Chocolate Factory.

Other Wonka-style magic includes the whimsically sloped roof and the bubbles decorating the wash area. Licorice-allstripe colours wind along the edge of the dessert train table like ribbons being unspooled.

Adding to the child-like fun is a 'Ferris Wheel' of boots and the shoe-wearing bathtub filled with chocolate – both references to the board game Mousetrap.

These imaginative flourishes were all carried out by Luchetti Krelle, the award-winning Sydney interiors firm that also created the look of the David Chang restaurant across the hallway (from the limited glimpse available, it seems to be Zumbo's very design opposite: sleek, minimal and dark).

The patisserie's picturebook-like appearance means it'll probably be the most-photographed eatery in Sydney – but this element alone isn't what drives the Zumbo pilgrims. It's the outlandish and inventive sweets that compel the crowds and the offerings available here only underscore this.

There's the Lemon Carpet Crush, a citrus tastebud-jumpstarter of lemon crush "liquid", jelly, cake and lime marshmallow and the Water My Melons which eerily reproduces watermelon with fruit, yogurt and chocolate. Lychee gel, coconut crunch and bubble tea custard are a few of the intriguing ingredients making cameos throughout the menu. The Berry Handbag, sadly, is for display only.

In terms of macarons, the "emergency"-saving flavours that left me buzzing most were the Thai-flavoured Coconut, Green Chilli & Lavender, Cola and Watermelon & Orange. The Caramelised Pumpkin Seed might be nicer reincarnated in a bread loaf, though.

With an adventure-driven menu, the odd misfire isn't surprising – but that kind of wildcard gamble still appeals to me more than a safer, one-size-fits-all approach to pleasing crowds. With this new location, Adriano Zumbo still casts spells through sugar. I'm pretty sure the "glass-breaking" macaron displays will end up collecting a few noseprints from overeager kids. And there are worse things in life than watching a series of Zumbo desserts tailgate each other on a conveyor belt, each yours for the choosing.

Adriano Zumbo, Level G, Café Court, The Star, 80 Pyrmont Street, Pyrmont NSW adrianozumbo.com

Balla, The Star, Pyrmont

2011-10-11T00:27:00.002+11:00

Balla is a restaurant that could drive your eyeline crazy.

With concrete "bridges" evoking Milan's canals, pixellated floral columns, a ceiling that splinters into endless shapes and colours, tiled lettering and giant typography, pendant lamps that look like spinning tops in mid-twirl and futuristic racks of wine – every detail feels like a conspiracy to divert your vision away from your table.

All this optical distraction makes sense, as this osteria is named after the statement-making Italian artist, Giacomo Balla, who was interested in the fast-paced, the machine-like and the industrial promise of the future. His ideas are there in the DNA of the restaurant's design (by Luigi Roselli Architects), from the ceiling that pays tribute to one of Balla's paintings to the "anti-neutral" uniforms of the wait staff.

Hi-tech look (and iPad wine lists) aside, your attention span deserves to be directed at your plate. Balla, after all, is the latest Sydney venture for the renowned Stefano Manfredi, and his team includes head chef Gabriele Taddeucci (Uccello, The Beresford). Unlike the interiors, the food has a simplicity that's exquisite – a pared-back harmony rather than jolting cacophony. Sweet leek, tomato and eggplant colludes nicely with the milder ricotta in the Cannelloni Alle Melanzane, as does the small cast of ingredients in Will's choice of Pappardelle with Kid Goat Ragu, Chilli and Pecorino. In a simple side dish – asparagus spears are charred to a rich, near-'husk', each bite like a smoky shadow.

Dessert is my favourite round at Balla. A nostalgia-struck Will orders the Pistachio and Caramel Cassata, as a fallback to days when his mother would make a version of this frozen sweet. Like many overenthusiastic diners, my near-full state isn't a roadblock to ordering an extra course, but I didn't want to pick anything regrettably rich and heavy duty either. So I choose the Espresso and Hazelnut Torta, which is a lovely and light creation by pastry chef Shady Wasef; each spoonful a silken scoop of nutty and sweetly bitter rewards. The alternating layers of cappucino cream add a hint of coffee-spiked lushness.

Balla has one of those long menus which baits you into returning, because there's no way you could order all that intrigues you in one go. What still has to win me over, though, is the hurdle of getting to The Star (formerly Star City) – it's not the easiest location in the city (as I've discovered from the times I've foolishly walked from the nearest train station). We decided to drive in to Balla: this simply resulted in many loops of shame as we circled the venue without getting any closer to scoring a parking spot (each unsuccessful lap a guilt-enforcing reminder that maybe we shouldn't have taken the car).

There'll be more chances for me to time-trial better ways to get here, though, given that The Star will soon be open to Adriano Zumbo's newest outlet and David Chang's first restaurant outside the US. And while there's an understandable reluctance by some people to visit what is essentially a casino complex – on the culinary front, at least, Balla, makes a strong case on the "For" side.

Balla, The Star, Ground level, Retail Arcade, 80 Pyrmont Street (entrance off Pirrama Road), Pyrmont NSW 1800 700 700, www.star.com.au/dine/signature-dining/balla.html

My Sweet Memory, Sydney

2011-10-07T00:04:00.003+11:00

"Dinner parties do combine two of our favourite things: dinner and parties. It's like if you could have an Xbox pancake.” Andy, Parks and Recreation.

I had an "Xbox pancake" moment when we walked by My Sweet Memory in the city yesterday.

Amy and I had finished a great, slightly zany dinner at Chefs Gallery (surprisingly, even this Taiwanese mainstay has gone "dude food" and added tacos and mini burgers to the menu; we stuck to mid-level eccentric choices – the cheese-and-mushroom roti, fried buns with condensed milk, etc, instead.) We then detoured to see some of the hide-and-seek installations tucked in laneways for Art & About and were looping back to do the Sugar Hit at Azuma Kushiyaki when we saw the shopfront for this week-old eatery.

The sign described My Sweet Memory as a cafe specialising in desserts and stationery.

Wow, it was like someone had worked out two of my most favourite things in the world with safe-cracking accuracy and then conveniently merged the two under one roof. Xbox pancake, indeed.

This place not only comes across as a bad influence regarding sweet tooth and card-and-notebook-buying habits, it also sells socks (!), which given my ability to hopelessly drop way too much money on knee-highs and ankle-lengths, is freakishly on-mark that I wonder if I've accidentally incepted someone's brain into making this business happen.

So, the reality is not as dramatic as anything Christopher Nolan would come up with – as I found out when I revisited the cafe properly. Its menu is small and simple (sandwiches, quiches and standard-issue sweets like macarons, friands, etc); what stands out is the fact My Sweet Memory is one of the few places to sell pralines from Kakawa, the best chocolate shop in Sydney. In fact, there's a museum-like display reserved for the Raspberry and Mint Crisp, Roasted Banana, Yuzu, Sea Salt Caramel, Peanut Butter Triangles and other handmade creations.

The beverages are vintage Chinatown (think green tea lattes, loopy fruit-drink combinations, gelato shakes, etc) and all the notebooks, decorative masking tapes, rustic boxes of rubber stamps, Polaroid cards and post-its have Asian origins, too. I think they're all from Korea – which is in a title fight with Japan at the moment for "most awesome stationery on the planet" status. The cafe also sells shoes, which is a bit harder to explain – but that's part of the kooky charm of My Sweet Memory. It's quite fun and will probably tide me over until someone works out how to merge Ito-ya (Tokyo's famous nine-level card/journal/stamp-buying heaven) with Black Star Pastry – that's a desserts and stationery cafe I'd kill/incept for.

My Sweet Memory, 95 Bathurst St, Sydney NSW (02) 8971 7465, www.mysweetmemory.com.au There's already a branch at 12 Churchill Ave, Strathfield and one opening soon in Chatswood.

Honeycomb, Darlinghurst

2011-09-26T22:57:00.004+10:00

If you've ever been mesmerised by the blackboard at Cafe Sopra, entranced in a "can I order everything?" spell, then you will want to visit Honeycomb. It's the new venture for chef Andy Bunn, who is responsible for this city's dependency on his rightly famous Banoffee Pie. I'm not sure that any dessert could overthrow that incredible creation, but the Parfait ($14) at his new eatery is a heavyweight contender – dusted with a Hansel-and-Gretel trail of chocolate shavings and hiding rocky treasure deposits of honeycomb, it is insanely good.

So far, this just-opened restaurant is serving only breakfast and lunch (panini, pasta, salad and a seasonal mixed-fruit juice that your waiter spent four hours hand-squeezing), but will also operate for dinner once it lands a licence (hopefully in a few weeks' time). Andy Bunn's menu at Cafe Sopra was unmistakably brilliant (and explains the eatery's neverending queues and evergrowing outlets), so getting another mealtime to experience his flair is something to highly anticipate. A lot of appetites are banking on that paperwork to be resolved soon.

Honeycomb, 354 Liverpool St, Darlinghurst NSW (02) 9331 3387, www.honeycombrestaurant.com.au

Hinky Dinks, Darlinghurst

2011-09-12T00:31:00.003+10:00

"It's like a bar meets a '50s house party."

That's Will's take on Hinky Dinks, which has just opened opposite the fire station in Darlinghurst. The retro-charged design, by Luchetti Krelle, is so convincing that some patrons find themselves mentally propelled back into their grandparents' home – although, back in the day, it's highly unlikely your Nan ever served you a drink called Gypsy Blood or Corpse Reviver.

"Cocktails first, questions later" is one motto at Hinky Dinks and that is part of its fun. This place is run by two friends who met while working at Longrain: Jeremy Shipley (who you might see blitzing drinks behind the bar, when he's not moonlighting as ambassador for Bacardi) and Dan Knight (one-time sommelier for Sake and The Cut Bar & Grill and ex-general manager for The Corner House – he's the charmer with the smart haircut working the floor). Their likeable drinks menu ($15-$18 for single orders) gives you plenty of good reasons to work your way through your glass, from the sweet and zippy Gypsy Blood to the fruit-cup fun of Hinky Fizz (served with house-made strawberry and prosecco sorbet) and warning-label territory of the Zombie, a rum and absinthe concoction that's so heavy-hitting, you're only allowed a maximum of two a night ("Hinky's rules!"). If you start to feel like the living dead after going there, don't worry, you can always order the Corpse Reviver No. Blue to reverse the effect. And given that you could imagine grown-up versions of Betty and Veronica sitting at the Hinky Dinks bar, it seems apt that there's a Frozen Bourbon Milk Sundae on the menu.

The mini candy-striped box of rosemary popcorn given to guests on arrival and the occasional tray of finger food that crowdsurfs the room adds to the "house party" feel of Hinky Dinks. Your appetite isn't limited to those mini-bites though – the bar menu by Onde's Laif Etournaud covers snacks ("peckish"), substantial plates ("hungry") and sweet tooths ("indulgent"). The Pan-Fried Olive and Parmesan Sandwich ($9) is so very good – who knew that the simple combination of tapenade and cheese on toast could be such genius? Other orders we enjoyed: the Crisp Polenta with Roast Tomato and Salsa Verde ($20), Chicken Braised with White Wine, Tomatoes, Olives and Cavalo Nero ($22) and Crostini with Heirloom Tomatoes, Basil & Goat's Cheese ($8) – yep, tomato is a tad over-represented on the menu, but I don't mind at all. Just watch out for those cherry tomato halves that keep making a getaway everytime you try to wedge crostini into your mouth without causing clumsy ingredient spillage. After the guilty pleasure of the cheese toastie, the Roast Beetroot Salad ($14) felt like the nutritionally correct thing to order, and while the hazelnut, goat's cheese and beetroot are a good, classic combination, am I the only one who finds watercress such a high-maintenance pain? When I see that overtangled green – it feels like a gardener needs to weed my plate. Maybe that's just my vendetta against that out-of-control leaf. Everything else, though, was excellent (especially the fat, gold polenta chips).

And I wonder what Proust would've thought of the Warm Madeleine ($10), made to order, placed snugly against strawberry slices and ready to dip in Tasmanian bootrytis riesling? Our opinion was pretty obvious from how quickly we cleared the plate (and Will's quick-sip dispersal of the remaining riesling once there were no more sweets left to dunk).

This place is named after Michael 'Hinky Dink' Kenna, a crooked American politician who bought off the homeless with drinks at his bar, in return for securing their votes. Despite that history, this Sydney joint relies less on cynical electioneering and more on genuine charisma and appeal. The cute interior, with its supercharged pop colours, feels like an inviting hangout, and despite its period references, there's nothing museum-like about it at all (in fact, the '50s fridge in the corner still hums and keeps produce snap-cold). The retro graphics throughout, by Sydney designer, Hilbert Ho add to the sass and charm. This great bar covers all the vote-winning "issues" (fun drinks, table service, good menu, nice staff, appealing space) that should hopefully earn it a landslide victory with the public. It's currently open from Wednesday-Sunday, 5pm-12am, but like any good "house party", I wish it'd keep going even later than that.

Hinky Dinks, 185 Darlinghurst Rd (opposite the fire station), Darlinghurst NSW (02) 8084 6379 www.hinkydinks.com.au

Good Food Guide 2012

2011-09-06T23:49:00.009+10:00

Sequels are meant to be disappointing, but my second year reviewing for Good Food Guide was infinitely more fun than any overlong Hollywood franchise. My "places to cover" list took me from Cabramatta to Palm Beach and I was even lucky enough to write up two restaurants that ended up in the hat-earning categories.

The awards took place last night and there were many genuine surprises (and zero thanking of God, though there was one 14/20 joke and one namedropping mention that David Chang was in the room). The big winners were Sepia (graduating to three hats and Restaurant of the Year) and Porteno (jumping in with two hats and Best New Restaurant). And, as if their charm and culinary smarts weren't enough, unofficially, I thought Porteno's crew also scored Best Dressed of the night, with everyone's favourite hostess Sarah Doyle blitzing the stage in an awesome vintage-style, confectionery-striped outfit.

As the night went on, I found that almost every win would fork into one of two default reactions from me: "so glad that place did well!" (Porteno) or "I badly want to go there" (Sepia). I think that's a good sign of who scored top honours.

I'm really happy that Duke Bistro, District Dining, Gastro Park, Biota Dining and Vini gained their first ever hats (especially Vini, which has been such a long-time favourite). It is also great to see lots of brilliant new eateries land in the Good Food Guide - The Dip, Orto Trading Co. and El Capo, just to name some of the staggering 78 additions. And there were lots of interesting category wins, from Favourite Breakfast for Three Blue Ducks to Favourite Vegetarian Menu for Bilson's (how things have changed since that infamous incident where Tony Bilson "placated" a disappointed vego diner with a voucher to a buffet at Govinda's). I did think 121BC would get Best Bar with Food, but that went to The Owl House (yes, another one to try).

Major kudos to editors Joanna Savill and Terry Durack, regional editor Barbara Sweeney and production editor Paul McLean (the one force in the world that makes sure we get our reviews in our time) for producing a great lifeline for anyone hungry in this town. Hope you enjoy rediscovering Sydney through the 900 entries in the Good Food Guide, as I will.

The Bridge Room, Sydney

2011-09-03T22:57:00.002+10:00

From the wall of origami felt to the meringue with strawberry paper, there's so much to like about The Bridge Room, a new restaurant that's opened near Circular Quay.

Not only is the Strawberry Marshmallow Meringue ($18) a joy to eat, the given instruction that you need to smash it open with your spoon – to get to the yogurt jackpot inside and scramble it with the strawberry ripple and "paper" – only adds to the unquestionable fun.

The Bridge Room is run by Ross and Sunny Lusted, and their travel-heavy past with Amanresorts adds an international touch to the menu. Sunny mentioned how she was struck by how resourceful people were in Asia – when caught offguard by the rain, locals would pluck out a banana leaf to use as an impromptu umbrella – and every ingredient here is revitalised in ingenious ways. Instead of being cast off, carrot tops are used in a salsa verde or stock, while coconut husks in the fruit salad are turned into ash for another dish. Similarly, the interior shows the pattern and grain of timber offcuts, lined up like wooden licorice allsorts.

The return of Ross Lusted (ex-executive Rockpool chef) to Australia has sparked much excitement (I think there were three prominent mentions of The Bridge Room in Good Living before the restaurant even opened), but for me, the biggest endorsement comes from my friend Brendan. Now working in radio (he showed me the ropes at FBi!), Brendan used to cook for a living (Bourke Street Bakery, Harbour Kitchen & Bar, Forty One) and tells me that Ross is the best chef that he has ever worked with.

And accordingly, the food is so very good. There are heirloom carrots "in funky colours", cooked beautifully over a Japanese robata grill; the playful meringue, a popular raw wagyu shoulder and also some great off-menu choices. In a recent Good Living story, Ross Lusted talked about his appreciation for vegetables, inspired in part by Sunny ("who was raised vegetarian and remains predominantly so") and working in Asia, where many people keep to a meat-free diet for religious or financial reasons. So even if no vego mains are listed on the menu, do ask and you might get to try a beautiful dish of Japanese brown rice, livened with ginger, chilli and a zippy, brisk chiffonade – it's like a play on chicken rice. I know brown-rice-anything sounds excitement-proof, but this main unlatches surprising flavours from deceptively simple ingredients. A previous diner had described it as the best vegetarian dish he'd had.

What makes The Bridge Room stand out is the fact it's not tailgating trends or relying on triple-barrel hype or battle-tested favourites. Everything here is beautifully modulated, well-throught-through and original – whether it's the sculptural wall of felt installed by Tobias Partners, the crockery pieces that Ross Lusted has designed himself or what ripples with flavour on your plate. Unlike other high-profile restaurants, there's nothing "loud" here – but everything speaks volumes.

The Bridge Room, 44 Bridge Street, Sydney NSW (02) 9247 7000, www.thebridgeroom.com.au

Joe Black, Surry Hills

2011-08-29T00:20:00.015+10:00

Just when you thought Surry Hills was at maximum cafe capacity, along comes another great new addition: Joe Black.

With a mural showing the evolution of human caffeine dependency, this place takes its coffee ultra-seriously. The blackboard offers two Single Origin special brews a day and a house blend, there are take-home packs galore and you may find yourself sitting near a ditting machine or siphon bar. And besides the usual orders, you can ask for a cup of Magic ($3.50). "Not real magic, just ask", says the menu. Turns out it's a 3/4-sized double ristretto flat white; so after a few sips, it performs quite a disappearing act. Hence the "magic".

This, I'm told by Joe Black's staff, is a "Melbourne thing". And the moustache logo on all the takeaway cups? Another influence from that city, too. It's a jokey tribute to the fact that many baristas in Melbourne each sport a mo.

And while the two brothers behind the counter (mischievously) won't own up to who actually runs Joe Black, they will admit that the cafe isn't named after them. Joe Black might as well be the coffee-toting man in the mural.

And even with all this talk about a certain caffeinated drink, Joe Black is not so singleminded about roasted beans to forget that there's more to a cafe than this.

The menu, while currently short, is pretty good (and quite funny). The Pikelet Stack With Stuff ($11), despite its amusingly vague title, is filled with noteworthy ingredients: airy ricotta, a lovely jam-like berry compote and a good topping of strawberry and apple slices. It's an excellent breakfast option and quite fun to structurally demolish with a knife and fork. (And its greatness estranges it from the dreaded vegie stack of the 1990s, of no flavour relation.) Like this dish, there are other offerings with amusing commentary on the menu: Granola with Diced Apple & Berry Compote (very fancy) ($8.50) and Chivi Steak Sandwich with Graviche (it's French for yum) ($13). And yes, Joe Black's Milkshakes (bring the boys to the yard).

I also really enjoyed the Mushroom & Hummus on Rye – a great vego sandwich. The surprise layer of parsley-flecked mushroom pate just bumps it up an extra notch. And the home-baked White Chocolate & Raspberry 'Blondie', made by barista Gemma, is an excellent treat; as you cut into the slice, the raspberry bits bleed all over the chopping board, as a sign of how satisfyingly sticky and sweet it is.

This is just part of the limited selection on offer at Joe Black; surely it can only get better as the cafe expands to a full-range menu?

This tiny joint has only been open for two weeks and its likeable approach inspires "hope this place does well" feelings. Besides its fine menu, Joe Black also has wit and personality on its side (how could you not like a cafe where the staff addresses familiar faces as "gangsters" and chooses to decorate the walls with a picture of JFK, an eye chart and a poster of Peter Norman?). We may have only just met, but Joe Black is someone I'd want hanging around for a long time.

Joe Black, 27 Commonwealth St, Surry Hills NSW. Follow on Facebook or Twitter.

Cara and Co, Westfield Sydney

2011-08-24T00:10:00.003+10:00

Visiting the Cara & Co restaurant is like trying a spritz of tester-bottle perfume – a few hints are enough to transport you to a place that's unfamiliar and alluring.

The high-end DNA of this eatery comes from Moscow, where the original Cara & Co store was named "one of the best boutiques in the world" by The Wall Street Journal. Its second and only Australian outlet just opened in Westfield Sydney and thrives off the flipside of namedropping – its "No Logos Fashion Only" motto means its clothing, jewellery and accessories have all been created especially by designer labels, minus the ostentatious branding.

The fashion seeps into the attached restaurant, too, with its looped projections of sulky models taking very expensive footsteps down catwalks, wearing designs that reflect what is on sale in the boutique.

Beyond all this haute couture and its mandatory gallery of perfect cheekbones, the interior has quite a few elements to hook your interest. There's the glass floor lit up like a disco in neutral mode, the cute rows of mismatching chairs, the blaze of intriguing pendants and a huge, vintage contraption in the corner that has no obvious back-story. "It's a time machine from Russia," quips the waiter. (Contradicting this, of course, is this ageing instrument's plaque containing French writing and a Paris address that I recognise for the least romantic of reasons: rue LaMartine is where, for the price of a few euros, I watched the tumble-dry ballet of my ever-rotating shirt sleeves and pant legs, every rising degree getting closer to the cycle's finish.)

The food at Cara & Co. is witty and adventurous – one dish is called Back To Your Roots ($22) and has baby root vegetables "planted" in soft cheese and a "soil" of textured crumbs. The Devil's Risotto ($28) is bloodbath-red from all the beetroot juice it's been cooked in. Cubed apple and horseradish add a sneaky touch (to cut through the beet-rich intensity, the contrast levels could be pushed a little higher on these other ingredients though). The United Textures of Chocolate ($23) is a fun civil war of flavours, with airy chocolate grounded on a hazelnut biscuit base, passionfruit seeds fighting off choc "pop rocks" and scoops of coffee and passionfruit ice cream. This lighthearted mood is conveyed in the names of other dishes, too, such as In Rhubarb We Trust ($21) and The Cheese Trap ($35).

The menu has been overseen by Belgian chef Dave De Belder, who runs De Godevaart in Antwerp and, according to Scott Bolles in Good Living is "tipped to join the ranks of Michelin-starred eateries in the next award season". With the food, the chef wants to convey dishes that are "typically Flemish but with an Australian touch". By "Flemish", he means pure flavour – the instant "wow, I want take another bite" effect; also crucial is a strong dose of visual magic ("people eat with their eyes," he says) and the wonder of high-contrast textures. The local touch comes through Australian produce (beef, salsify, truffles). And, yes, a Vegemite-inspired dish, is on the cards for the next menu.

And while both the chef and waiter insist that "there is nothing else like this in Sydney", ultra-scientific, inventive dishes alive with rat-a-tat flavours are not hard to find here. Think Bentley, Arras, Gastro Park – even Biota Dining in Bowral.

The whole dining experience at Cara & Co, though – with its catwalk video loops, one-of-a-kind design and shared gene pool with a high-end boutique – that truly isn't like anything in this city right now.

Cara & Co Restaurant, Shop 4001, Level 4, Westfield Sydney, 188 Pitt Street, Sydney, NSW (02) 9226 9988, www.caraandco.com/en/restaurant_caraandco. Finding the restaurant after hours can be tricky – best bet is to take the escalator near Sportsgirl all the way up to Becasse on Level 5, then go one floor down and you'll see Cara & Co.

A rundown of favourite new places to eat/drink in 2011 – so far

2011-08-14T23:44:00.014+10:00

You could accuse 2011 of being a repeat offender when it comes to good new places to dine.

Surry Hills is often the scene of this particular crime, given the location of the recently opened The Carrington and its likeable pintxos bar meets old-school pub approach; the truly excellent Orto Trading Co. (still titleholder of "favourite new restaurant" for me) and its Latin street-food neighbour, El Capo.

Only footsteps away is the brilliant 121BC Cantina & Enoteca, which opened in early 2011. It's a spin-off from the Vini family, which has a great culinary gene pool. Like at Vini, owner Andrew Cibej creates magic from the smallest of kitchens – and the vegetarian options are excellent, from the fried cauliflower with mint and taleggio to the creamy clouds of buffalo mozzarella spiked with chilli or the beautifully fanned out artichokes (only $4). And you can tour all the regions of Italy simply via your wine glass.

Macarons somehow seem immune to overkill – despite being ubiquitous like a tabloid celebrity no one wants to read about anymore, people are still keen to get their meringue/ganache fix. And when it's done with invention and skill, like at Cre Asion (which is also, yes, in Surry Hills and actually located next to Vini/121BC's sibling, Berta), then this sweet's unending popularity is well justified. Owner Yu Sasaki pays tribute to his time in the kitchen at Universal with an excellent Golden-Gaytime-flavoured macaron named after former boss Christine Manfield. The flavour spectrum spans from Cranberry to Yuzu ($2.70 each, or $21 for 8), with oddities such as White Miso (a buttery-salt-bomb). You can also pick up excellent toasties, like the Kalamata Olive, Tomato, Basil and House-Made Ricotta sandwich, with its golden grill marks (a telltale sign of well-toasted goodness), and takeaway packages of Olive Shortbread ($7). Oh and when you're there, waiting amongst the butterfly stools, how could you not fall in love with Cre Asion's amazing ode to Mr Bread?

2011 has also seen Sydney go through Bad Mexican Food Rehab, with some excellent (and overdue) takes on the often mishandled cuisine. Mexicano in Narrabeen opened at the start of the year and is still the best of its kind I've had in this city. I still think about its street-style Grilled Corn with chipotle mayo, lime and cheese – all fired up and charged with flavour. There's of course, Dan Hong's excellent take on Mexican (via a culinary stopover in Vietnam) at El Loco in Surry Hills. I've yet to try any of the soft-serve offerings on tap at this canteen, but the Cinnamon Bun with Churros option sounds awesome. On the topic of Mexican food, Barrio Chino in Kings Cross is not too bad, either. And though its cuisine spans many more borders, within walking distance of that eatery is the culinary wonderland that is Gastro Park.

When it opened in May, I remember saying that The Dip inspired "I'm so glad this exists" gratitude. I'm obviously not alone as this canteen is increasingly more popular with every visit I make. And while the eternal Ice Cold Guac vs Cookies & Cream dessert-ordering battle continues (they are both flat-out great, so how to decide?), complicating this has been Levins' recent addition of Peanut Butter & Jelly as a special and Ross Eldridge's talk of experimenting with a Bubble O' Bill-style concoction only makes things more interesting.

And in 2011, there have been great new places to park your drink on a coaster, from the living-room-sized Grandma's Bar in the city, where beverages are served with doilies, to Stitch's offering of curly fries, cocktails and couture and Dry Land in Redfern's two-in-one handiness as both a diner and bar, saving you from the "where to go next"? debate that can often go nowhere after a meal is long-finished and you really need to get things moving.

And here are some note-worthy places that are due to open later this year:

-In September, the John and Peter Canteen pop-up cafe gets a makeover and a later curfew – besides lunch, there'll be a dinner service, too.

-Brilliant chefs Daniel Puskas and James Parry (who have wanted to open a restaurant together since their time at Oscillate Wildly) are finally teaming up for Sixpenny in Stanmore, scheduled to be ready in October.

-A new Fratelli Fresh and Cafe Sopra (with mozzarella bar) is slated to open on Bridge Street in the city.

-The wonderful Arras has relocated and is setting up in Becasse's old spot on Clarence Street in the city, with a hole-in-the-wall cafe called Arras Too due to keep it company.

-The also-great Bentley has a city offshoot in the works, scheduled for later this year.

-Chui Lee Luk of Claude's will be opening a casual Asian eatery in Surry Hills in November (I joked on Twitter that I hoped she'd honour the Chinese restaurant tradition of leaky teapots – she wittily replied with "maximal tea spillage guaranteed if you request it".)

-And Star City will see the opening of the new David Chang restaurant and Adriano Zumbo patisserie (with interiors done by Luchetti Krelle, a local studio known for its award-winning and diner-impressing work).

Tell me what I've missed …!

Feast Your Eyes and Pot Luck

2011-08-09T00:00:00.002+10:00

Hey, here's a shameless mention of a few things I'm part of.

If you turn up to Feast Your Eyes, you'll find a bar recipe booklet with contributions by Levins (The Dip), Spod, We Buy Your Kids, Jake Stone, Elmo Keep and many more; some of the accompanying illustrations will be available as artwork; there'll be music (including my low-level DJing/attempts to brainwash everyone into wearing away their dancing shoes) and food-as-bribery to entice you if the preceding drawcards aren't enough. I'm writing the intro to the recipe booklet, too.

It's on Wednesday August 17 at The World Bar (home to the about-to-be-unveiled Apothecary Bar), 24 Bayswater Rd, Kings Cross, from 7-10pm. The whole night doubles as the launch for the food section of The Brag, as well.

Nearby at FBi Social, a new weekly night is making a play for your diary. Pot Luck is a mix of "readings, skits, bingo, art installations, film, crafternoons, astrologers". It launches this Friday with a quiz, live music, a giant chess set (!) and stories from Penguin Plays Rough. Next week, Friday 19, there'll be a mini zine fair, and yes, I'll be shilling my food zine. So drop by FBi Social, Level 2 at the Kings Cross Hotel, 248 William St, Kings Cross, if you're curious.

And I promise, there'll be a normal post soon!

Melbourne

2011-07-29T23:41:00.008+10:00

As my parents could tell you, getting me interested in maths is a losing battle (for years, my brain and trigonometry enjoyed pretending the other did not exist). Here's one calculation I enjoy making, though: taking a holiday and dividing it into maximum mealtimes and snack breaks – with no remainders left over. So this was my latest exercise in eating, drinking and arithmetic, courtesy of a trip to Melbourne.

Top of my list was Golden Fields, which opened to high-wattage levels of hype in May (it's contender for the year's most anticipated restaurant, surely?). This electric interest is understandable: it's the latest venture for Andrew McConnell (Cutler & Co, Cumulus Inc) and it's no secret that it's really, really good. Everything we had on his Asian-focused menu was hit-the-mark impressive; the flavours are full of zap and zing – playful and wonderfully in tune with each other, rather than armed in some fight-for-your-attention warfare. Even simple things like Marinated Cucumber, Radish and Garlic were so lively.

We ate at the bar, where we could peer into the open kitchen and watch the most popular dishes (the famous Lobster Roll, which can now add Mel to its growing fan base; the Twice-Cooked Duck with Steamed Bread, Vinegar and Plum Sauce) get sent across the room. And the vegetarian options, thankfully, are not side-dish afterthoughts, but brilliant and zipping with flavour (especially the Steamed Eggplant with Silken Tofu and Pickled Chillies and Sauteed Mushrooms with Poached Duck Egg).

And just to knock us out completely, the desserts were sublime: Baked Meringue ($15) with lychee and rose, a good dusting of pistachio and a joltin' raspberry and rosehip puree, and the "hard to make" Peanut Butter Parfait with salted caramel ice cream ($15), which seems to disappear at a rate of 80+ a day (understandably). I'm already hatching plans to return, especially to try the breakfast menu.

157 Fitzroy Street, St Kilda VIC (03) 9525 4488, goldenfields.com.au.

I love the story behind Mister Close: 28 years ago, Peter Knowles and James English met in an eighth-grade geography class; now they've opened a cafe and named it after the man who taught them about contours and capital cities. The cafe mascot is even modelled after a photo of Mr Close, who was their favourite teacher.

I'd heard that they'd invited him for a visit, so I asked the waitress if their former teacher had checked out the cafe yet. She said he had and that he enjoyed it. And, if you look at the eatery's blog, you can see that he looks exactly the same as the Mister Close mascot (except a tad more grey-haired).

I like how Melbourne studio Russell & George has designed the cafe like a classroom, with maps, books and school-style seating – with an edge, though, that makes it cooler than any place where I've had to answer roll call. My Mexican-inspired SOBO Eggs ($17.50) was quite nice, too. Pretty decent for a cafe in a mall.

Shop 13, Midtown Plaza, 246 Bourke St (entry via Swanston St), Melbourne VIC (03) 9654 7778, misterclose.com.au.

So it's pretty bad manners (apologies!) that I've gotten this far without mentioning that was actually a trip for work, organised by the lovely Danielle Poulos at Tourism VIC. Seeing as I'm on staff at a design magazine, Tourism VIC had kindly organised to send me down to check out the State of Design festival, as well as some bars and restaurants with interesting interiors and fit-outs.

So on the way to see the festival's Look.Stop.Shop, Danielle suggested we stop by Hoboken, a cafe that is as over-patterned with street art as everything else famously is on Hosier Lane. I had a sweet-fix hot chocolate, while Danielle had a coffee – she says Hoboken's brews are by Seven Seeds and they're very good.

Hoboken, 3 Hosier Lane, Melbourne VIC (03) 9078 2869. www.hoboken.com.au.

Danielle amazingly put together most of my itinerary and kindly lined up a tour of Burch & Purchese Sweet Studio for me – a place I'd been burning to visit after attending Ian Burch and Darren Purchese's amazing 'Sweet Architextural' collaboration with Bompas & Parr earlier this year.

As that night of all-you-can-eat sugar wonders made clear, Ian and Darren are stunning pastry chefs. Helping them run the Sweet Studio is Cath Claringbold, who has an impressive culinary background, too, and is also Darren's wife.

They took me through the shop – a place that inspires mental gridlock, because you simply want everything on sight, from the Mango Meringue Clouds to the Edible Flower Cards and Persian Delight Dark Chocolate embedded with rose jelly and Iranian pistachios. Even pressing your nose against the fridge causes a sugar rush, just thinking about the Butterscotch Popcorn, Spicy Roasted Pumpkin and Mint Chocolate Aero ice cream flavours.

I also got to see the kitchen, where I met "Dave" – that's the name they give their multifunction oven, because he's as hard-working and dependable as any member of staff. "He" tempers the chocolate, caramelises the white chocolate and even produces the ice cream. I joked that at least he doesn't chuck a sick day, but apparently he did have an off-colour moment recently.

Tucked up the back of the premises is the "spray room" (yep, it's as messy as it sounds) and the temperature-controlled "chocolate room" (the favourite word combination of any kid, surely).

One of the best parts of Burch & Purchese is the Ingredient Wall, which is a fascinating visual dictionary of what can go into the sweets: orange blossom, wasabi, poppy coloured candy, watermelon sherbet, lemongrass, many kinds of heat-packing peppers and various multisyllabic compounds that will confound my spellcheck.

The Ingredient Wall is part of the cake consulting area, which displays models of previous creations. It's nice to hear that not everyone wants a plain vanilla offering to slice up. One client recently requested something laced with white Szechuan pepper.

This is Burch & Purchese's witty and graphic interpretation of the royal wedding cake. Cool Britannia in sugar form.

The walls 'flourish' with flowers – they're longer-life (and more dentist-friendly) versions of edible kinds planted in B&P's cakes and cards. The lemon and raspberry choc blooms were my favourites from 'Sweet Architextural'.

The display cabinet is like the Miss Universe of cakes – each one is unbelievably beautiful to look at (none sport any judge-appeasing world-peace strategies, however). I was lucky to be sent home with these two gems, each with a dreamy cast-list of flavours: the Banana, Caramel and Rum which includes a crazy-good hit of caramelised banana cream, macadamia-spiced speculaas, passionfruit curd and jelly, caramelised white choc and vanilla mousse, finished in a chocolate velvet spray; and the Coconut, Passionfruit, Mint and Ginger, which has a ginger macaron and white choc mint wafer perched atop layers of coconut mousse and 'caviar', passionfruit curd and jelly, and salted oat and ginger crumble, coated in a brilliant white choc spray. Burch & Purchese is one of those great places that will make both your field of vision and tastebuds flip out.

Burch & Purchese, 647 Chapel St, South Yarra VIC (03) 9827 7060, www.burchandpurchese.com.

OK, so the vegetarian tasting menu at The Estelle was not the most inspired (our second course really was a green salad), but the desserts were great: sour cream ice cream & salted caramel with a lovely sponge cake, meringue with rhubarb and musk ice cream and a "wish we could have this for breakfast" rice pudding with passionfruit and toasty puffed grains.

The Estelle, 243 High St Northcote VIC (03) 9489 4609 estellebar-kitchen.com.

I had snuck in a cocktail earlier that night at Southpaw, a place I really liked (and not only 'cos they were sweet enough to let me juice up my battery-dead iPhone). For sequel cocktails, I went to The Everleigh, which is very "New York" in that it shares some DNA with Milk & Honey, the speak-easy style bar on Manhattan's Lower East Side. The people behind this new Melbourne joint are Lauren Schnell and Michael Madrusan, Australian expats who worked at Milk & Honey and its related venue Little Branch, and they've had a little help from M&H's Sasha Petraske in making this local venture happen.

The Everleigh is also quite "New York" in that it is a little tricky to find! If you stand in front of 150 Gertrude St, you will be thoroughly stumped by the unlit, clearly-not-open-for-business shopfront (as I was) – enter via the corner and go up the stairs, as the more savvy Rob worked out (he is a local, after all). Slight misdirection aside, I could not have loved The Everleigh more. It is exactly the bar I dream about – the interior is sophisticated but not showy (and the display of books won my nerdy bookworm heart), the seats are comfy and the room intimate, the staff is friendly, witty and the right level of attentive, you get table service (my lazybones self wishes this was the case everywhere), and the drinks are a lot of fun. One for Sydney, please?

The Everleigh, Level 1, 150-156 Gertrude Street (enter via the corner), Fitzroy VIC (03) 9416 2229, www.facebook.com/pages/The-Everleigh.

I wanted to visit St. Edmonds because I really like the work of Projects of Imagination, the clever Melbourne studio behind the cafe's the fit-out. The site used to be a garage, so the new space echoes that history - Projects of Imagination added mechanic's lights and preserved the petrol stains in the flooring.

The pot-plants are displayed in denim holders and the staff members wear very cute Scanlan & Theodore aprons in that same industrial fabric, too. There are also cool utilitarian touches, like the magazine racks made out of multiple coathangers.

Joining me for breakfast was the lovely Claire, who runs the excellent (and no-introduction-necessary) Melbourne Gastronome blog. It was nice – and such a fluke – to invite her somewhere she hadn't been before.

It was also great to see a breakfast menu that didn't just do the plain eggs and even plainer sides routine. Claire had the Spanner Crab and Chilli Omelette with Roti and Sesame Crumble ($19), which she enjoyed, while I got overexcited about the presence of Yuzu Dressed Avocado as a side (I am a yuzu tragic). I ordered that along with fried eggs, Harissa-tossed Swiss brown mushrooms and Woodside chevre-thyme gems. The yuzu tasted non-existent, sadly, and the staff served me poached eggs instead of the fried ones I'd asked for, but the cheesy potato gems were goo-ood and the mushrooms not too bad, either.

St. Edmonds, 154 Greville St (enter via St Edmonds Rd), Prahran VIC (03) 9525 0473.

Alex, Katy and I went to see the Vienna Art & Design exhibition at NGV International (where we witnessed so many great moustaches – Schiele, Klimt and Moser really rocked the facial hair – and a lot of great furniture, too; I had major cutlery, teapot and armchair envy after seeing this show). Afterwards, we had a tea break at the Vienna Kaffee Hause pop-up cafe that's been created for the exhibition. (It even has a cool lit-up facade that matches the design era of the show.)

It was fun to see how authentic the offerings were – I smashed some Austrian lemonade (the wonderfully titled Almdudler, which has this distinct herbal twist and cool graphic design on its can) while Katy had a great Gugelhupf (Viennese tea cake with a frilly choc hairdo) and Alex a wild mushroom soup and Kaffee Biedermeier (espresso with an intense shot of hazelnut liqueur and whipped cream).

The Vienna Kaffee Haus is a cute tie-in to the exhibition. The only time I've really come close to a gallery reflecting the artwork origins in a menu was when Will ordered the gateau "Monet-style" at the amazing Chichu Museum in Naoshima. It'd be nice to see more places offer something like this, especially when you have Gallery Legs or Museum Fatigue and need a good perk-up beyond the "Soup of The Day" or default gallery cafe choices.

Vienna Kaffeehaus pop-up cafe, NGV International, 180 St Kilda Rd, Melbourne VIC (03) 8620 2222

My last stop was the Heide Museum, where I also had a nice lunch at Cafe Vue. The Gnocci with tomato, cumin and rosemary flowers was one of the most good-looking dishes I'd come across. Later, I walked the grounds, where I stalked some sculptures, accidentally went off-path into shoe-muddying regions and walked the cafe's kitchen garden, with its occasional cloud of spiky herb scents.

Café Vue at Heide, 7 Templestowe Rd, Bulleen VIC (03) 9852 2346, www.heide.com.au/heide_cafe

Thanks to Tourism Victoria, especially to Danielle Poulos who made this trip happen. The organisation paid for my food at most of the places mentioned (I went off-itinerary for St. Edmonds and Southpaw) and I paid half of my dining companions' bill. While it was for work, and I wasn't under any obligation to mention it here, I thought it'd be worth blogging in any case. And if you do have a Melbourne detour planned, I hope there's something here that you might find handy and worth jotting down.

Izakaya Fujiyama, Surry Hills

2011-07-20T16:16:00.006+10:00

The Chocolate Cake with Baked Quince and Condensed Milk Ice Cream ($11.50) is one of many good reasons to check out the new Izakaya Fujiyama. (And I say that as a choc-cake skeptic, given how people will over-praise a floury brick 'cos it has some cheap cocoa thrill inside.) The choc in this cake is not a cover-up for anything substandard - it's just a gooey, choc-stealth delight, nicely teamed with baked-through quince and a clean, uncloying scoop of condensed milk ice cream.

Other items on the menu include the Kenji Fried Chicken, Lime Kingfish and Fried Tortilla, Asazuke Salted Pickles and, one of my favourites, the Miso-Cured Tofu (thanks to its salty miso goal-kick). And yes, I am dessert-curious about the Vanilla Ice Cream that comes with a toffee and Japanese vinegar topping (next time!).

Earlier this year, Kenji Maeneka announced he'd be opening Izakaya Fujiyama as a Japanese version of Bodega (the much-loved tapas joint where he has also worked). It's an ambitious and thrilling idea, but also nearly impossible to live up to. This place is good, and definitely worth checking out, but going by first impressions, it doesn't have the blow-me-away impact that Bodega does – yet. But maybe that's too early to say, plus it's a nice excuse to revisit and see if it might get to that level – perhaps one day someone will be inspired to offer their own international take on Izakaya Fujiyama.

Shop G09, 52 Waterloo St, Surry Hills NSW (02) 9698 2797 (yes, it's in the same complex as the great Orto Trading Co. and El Capo - what an excellent batting average for one building), www.izakayafujiyama

Barrio Chino, Kings Cross

2011-07-18T22:25:00.002+10:00

In extremely low lighting the other week, we smashed Breakfast Margaritas ($16), Squash Blossom Quesadillas ($14) and tacos of many different (but equally messy) fillings: Spicy Tuna, Beef Brisket, Braised Pork, Roast Pumpkin/Cactus and more ($6 each). At the newly opened Barrio Chino in Kings Cross, we also blitzed through Corn Chips and Guac ($8), served with a traffic-light trio of hot sauces and we finished our eating spree with sugar-dusted Churros ($10): crisp, finger-warming and ready to be coated with chocolate and dulce de leche.

It's nice to have another decent Mexican eatery in Sydney (no longer is it such an endangered species as it used to be) and not only that, it's walking distance to music venues like World Bar and FBi Social (where, oh, conflict of interest, I'm throwing a gig this Thursday. What a sneaky reference). The lighting levels at those places are as low/squint-inducing/flattering, too (handy if you have bad aim with chipotle hot sauce or roasted tomato-mint salsa).

Barrio Chino, 28-30 Bayswater Rd, Kings Cross NSW (02) 8021 9750, www.barriochino.com.au

John and Peter Canteen, Carriageworks, Eveleigh

2011-07-17T22:48:00.006+10:00

If you're on friendly terms with carbs, you may want to check out the John and Peter Canteen, a pop-up cafe serving some fine sandwiches. Exhibit A is the Roasted Mushroom and Zucchini, Will had the Chicken and we went halves (or to be truly honest, fraction-wise: 3/4 my way, 1/4 "you-snooze-you-lose" his way) on a lovely pear tart. The menu is low-key and simple now, but expect bigger things in August when John and Peter ramp up the menu and open for dinner.

John and Peter Canteen at Carriageworks, 245 Wilson Street, Eveleigh. Follow on Facebook at www.facebook.com/JOHNANDPETERCANTEEN.

Dry Land Bar, Redfern

2011-07-07T23:23:00.001+10:00

There's nothing less fun than playing the "where should we go next?" lottery after dinner on a freezing winter night.

So here's the two-in-one charm of Dry Land Bar, which recently opened near Baffi and Mo in Redfern: you can order food from a small menu, claim a cosy corner and basically not have to move for the rest of the night – which is what we did last Saturday.

Like the size of the room, the range of eats on offer is compact – nothing overly fancy, but conversation-perfect – unfussy, easy, comforting. Like a nicely baked Mushroom, Jerusalem Artichoke and Fennel Tart ($17) or Cheeseburger ($17), topped with onion jam, tomato and a squirt of your-condiment-of-choice. Or chips that you auto-dip into truffle mayonnaise ($8) as you keep chatting away. (Chris says the Salt & Pepper School Prawns ($15), was a bit samey, though, like eating a packet of chips.)

There's also dessert, like the Creme Brulee ($12.50) served with strawberries and rounds of shortbread, or Chocolate Mousse ($12.50), plated with poached pears and pistachios on a piece of slate (allowing Chris to wisecrack that perhaps they needed to return that industrial sheet back to the roof).

This is the sort of place I'd be happy to spend a Saturday night (or quite a few hours on any other evening, really). The experience was like a nice version of Groundhog Day: we kept re-ordering the same drinks, kept talking away, were attended to in the right doses, but never felt like we were under "when are they going to leave?" surveillance.

Dry Land is the kind of small bar that is great to take refuge in on a winter night, especially in the mostly undercatered zone of Redfern (yes, there's Eathouse Diner and The Fern, but walking-distance-wise, that's about it). Credit goes to owner Roy Leibowitz (Love Tilly Devine) and chef Marc Cartwright (Longrain, Quay), and also props to Adele Winteridge of Foolscap Studio (The Commons, Goodgod), who has added a lot of low-key, personable charm to the diner-style interior.

As we kept telling the wait staff last week: more of the same, thanks.

Dry Land Bar & Diner, 92 Redfern St, Redfern NSW twitter.com/drylandbar

New eats: Bi Bim, To Mix, Darlinghurst; Sonoma, Alexandria and La Rosa Bar and Pizza, The Strand, Sydney

2011-06-28T23:53:00.007+10:00

Bi Bim, To Mix, is a cute little Korean canteen that opened a few weeks ago on William Street, Darlinghurst, a strip better known for its cash-crop of hire/luxury car dealers. There's nothing fancy about it, but you can get Bi Bim Bap with three sides (I like the caramelly potato and the veg-specked egg roll), a soup and a tea for less than $20. Brews on offer include Ginger and Honey and Citron, aka "The Tina Fey of Teas" (that's what I decided to call it after falling in love with the very likeable drink in Japan, where it's known as yuzu tea and is served with zesty rings of the citrus fruit and a spoonful or two of honey/marmalade. It's ultra, ultra sweet, which is a warning but an endorsement, too).

Bi Bim, To Mix, 169 William Street, Darlinghurst NSW (02) 8095 9830

Sonoma has a new mega-sized HQ in Alexandria, which is now the nerve centre for its five bakeries. And, to the relief of anyone within office-deserting distance of the site, the location also includes a new cafe. Having another promising lunch option in an otherwise appetite-deflating area (Bourke Street Bakery aside) is worth getting keyed up over. I especially like the mushroom tartine, all charred, toasty and slathered with garlicky roasted eggplant and other veg. The menu apparently has every type of Sonoma sourdough on offer and the spot is the largest of all its bakeries. Size doesn't matter too much – I'm just glad this place exists.

Sonoma, 32-44 Birmingham St, Alexandria NSW www.sonoma.com.au

La Rosa Bar and Pizza is the newest venture from the crew behind the one-hat Italian restaurant Pendolino. In fact, it's located on the same floor in the Strand, just at the opposite end (which I discovered after awkwardly hopping over many of the after-hours barricades erected onsite in the shopping arcade). While there are some classic choices on offer at La Rosa, it's nice to see some more inspired pizzas on the menu – like the Calvolfiore al Tartuffo with roasted cauliflower, buffalo mozzarella, truffled pecorino and a comforting slop of bechamel ($24). Another plus: it's a reasonably priced mid-city eatery and, extra points, the fit-out is very sleek. My one semi-grumble – our table was shrouded in such menu-obscuring darkness, it was a struggle to read what was on offer, even after pressing the candle right against the words. I craved one of those ridiculously massive candlesticks that characters in Dickens film adaptations use to illuminate stairways on their way to bed. On the plus side, it made me feel less embarrassingly geeky for over-reading the menu before visiting: I knew what I wanted anyway.

La Rosa Bar and Pizza, Shop 133, Level 2 The Strand Arcade 193 Pitt Street, Sydney NSW (02) 9223 1674 www.larosabarandpizza.com.au

The scoop on Gelato Messina

2011-06-21T23:39:00.006+10:00

Why do we love Gelato Messina?
For its whipsmart, highly original, fun and incredibly scoop-worthy flavours: Elvis The Fat Years, Tiramisu, Absinthe, Hansel He’s So Hot Right Now, Apple Pie, Risotto Milanese, Yuzu and Pavlova are a few of the cone-perfect creations. Calendar specials have included The Royal Fruitcakes when Prince William married Kate Middleton and the Easter-commemorating Honey Glazed Carrot and Hot Cross Bun offerings.

How did Gelato Messina begin?
Over two decades ago in Adelaide, Nick Palumbo came up with his first gelato flavour: coconut and lychee gelato. “That combination exists in a lot of restaurants now, but back then that was cutting-edge. No one had an idea of what lychee was 20-odd years ago.” He later moved to Sydney, and switched from working in restaurants to serving creations in cones – starting with the coconut and lychee blend. “When we opened up Messina [nine years ago], that was our signature flavour and it still, to this day, is one of our better sellers.”

Who comes up with the ideas for the flavours?
“It used to be all me,” says Nick, “but in the last year or two, we’ve taken on a chef partner, Donato Toce [who used to be head chef at A Tavola, which Nick used to co-own until recently]. We discuss everything and come up with the formulas together.” Donato’s first creation was the insanely popular Pavlova, which mixes chunks of meringue with vanilla Chantilly cream and swirls of raspberry and passionfruit coulis and attracts endless “please bring it back!” requests from Messina customers the moment it’s no longer in the freezer cabinet.

How often does Messina come up with flavours?
“We go in rolls. At the moment, we’re flying out two-three new flavours every week. But that maybe lasts for three weeks on a trot and that slows down, because what happens is that some flavours aren’t as successful as others and the ones that are, people come back and want them and they get re-introduced. We have an ice cream called Elvis The Fat Years, which was renamed temporarily to Christian Skinny Jeans.” This was in honour of a frequent customer (Christian Lo Russo, the lead singer of Amy Meredith) who got his fan base to blitz Gelato Messina with more than 200 requests for Elvis The Fat Years to make a return to the building.

What’s the story with The Boy In Balmain?
It’s named after Adriano Zumbo, who used to work at Messina and is famous for his Balmain patisserie and its permanently long queues. Each scoop is studded through with macarons. Although it’s been fun to “pay out” Zumbo with a dessert named after him, “it’s very difficult to get a macaron to stay crunchy in a frozen temperature where it’s surrounded by moisture,” says Nick. “The first time, we made macarons the traditional way; after a day, they absorbed all the moisture in the gelato. We had to redo the recipe. How do you get desserts to work and how do you make them perform in a minus temperature environment? Getting the macarons to stay crunchy was a challenge.”

Are there any flavour successes that have been surprising?
“Donato came up with sage and burnt butter. We thought it was pretty out there, but it sold really well,” says Nick.

“We’ve discovered that peanut on its own, it doesn’t sell, it’s not exciting – but the minute you start doing something to it, it starts going crazy. Like Elvis The Fat Years [peanut butter, banana jam and fried brioche], Chop Star [coconut and peanut]; the peanut and gingerbread. These things happen by accident, we just sit there and try different flavour combinations together.”

Have there been any flavour failures?
“We generally get caught out on the more polarising flavours – the savoury kind, like the tomato sorbet. It’s good to push the boundaries but sometimes something will taste nice, and we all get excited, but the mistake we make is that you need to experience it as a consumer, as a whole scoop. Some of those flavours … one spoon, you think, that’s pretty exciting, that’s pretty nice, but you won’t eat a whole scoop of it. So we’re lucky, it hasn’t happened that often. The tomato sorbet was probably, in recent times, the biggest disaster – from a customer perspective. It just didn’t go. We made it, and we knew it would be 50/50. It was kind of good that it flopped, because it gave us a dose of reality, you can get a little bit too weird.”

What was tricky about making the Risotto Milanese gelato?
The easy part is making the creamed rice with milk, sugar, honey and cinnamon. “But what happens to that grain of rice when it’s at minus 12? No matter how soft it is on your palate at room temperature, the minute it’s at minus 12, it goes hard like a stone. So again, we had to adapt the way we cooked the rice, so that when it was in the cabinet, it was still firm but you weren’t biting into rocks.”

Have there been any ideas that have been off-limits for Gelato Messina?
“I was asked by someone from the Sydney Morning Herald back in January about breast milk gelato, because a guy [overseas] was doing it. Apparently it’s all got these health benefits. But I wouldn’t consider it,” says Nick. “I don’t know 15 women that could give me breast milk. [Laughs] The complication is that each portion of milk has to get individually tested for bacteria, possible diseases. It’s complex, but like anything, it’s a marketing thing.”

Are there any flavours that are too adventurous for you to make?
“We like being way out, but when we mean way out, it’s stuff that’s edible and that people would like.” Customers do ask about far-out flavours, like Parmesan gelato, but are not personally interested in buying them. “They’re just prodding to see how far they can push us to do things. We can do all those sorts of things, and we have in the past, but we’ve made them more for personal reasons or because a chef has asked us to do a certain dish and needs a component, but it makes sense, because he’s only serving that much, and it’s one fifteenth of a dish. It’s an accompaniment, it’s not a stand-alone flavour.”

Does the Messina team experience many weird flavours?
“I haven’t tried a lot of weird flavours, to be honest,” says Nick. “I know that when people say weird, they mean savoury. And it’s quite sad because there are so many things you can do. To push the boundaries, you don’t have to always do a basil sorbet, parmesan and bread or Vegemite. We come from a chef’s background, we’ve been in restaurants all our lives. This is not a game that we got into because we were tired with our office jobs or tired from being electricians or plumbers and thought, ‘you know what, I’m going to open an ice cream shop’. This is what we evolved into, from a chef and restaurant background. So when we think of flavours, we think of flavours in that respect. We think of a palate, mouthfeel, of how sweet it is. It’s been a balance to get the sweetness right. You need sugar in gelato, otherwise it goes rock hard. And to get a gelato that doesn’t require half a litre of water once you finish eating, it is hard because you need to find other ways of getting the same effect, without the sweetness. It’s taken a long time to get to this point.”

Besides the original flavours, what else makes Messina different to other places?
“In 90% of gelaterias around the world, this is what happens. Fill with white base, blend with X amount of paste, push a button on a machine, bang – you got gelato."

"We make everything from scratch. We don’t use any pastes.” (Banana paste, in particular, is “shocking”, which is why banana gelato often is disgusting and tastes like a chemically warped version of the fruit.) At Messina, “you’ll see herbs, spices, cocoa powder, almonds that we blend ourselves, pistachios that we make into paste.”

“Every single flavour we make – because it’s using natural stuff – has its own individual recipe.” Each one is a balancing act between ingredients. For a hazelnut paste, the fat in the nuts means less cream is needed, but the heavy, solid content requires more sugar – “to make it creamier and scoopable in the cabinet. It’s very labour-intensive".

What’s next for Gelato Messina?
Next door will become a part lab, part gelato patisserie. You’ll be able to buy mini desserts, biscuits, cannoli, ice-cream sandwiches, Magnum-style gelato and, provided you put in an order online in advance, “there’s going to be a mechanism for you to design and construct your own ice cream cake”, says Nick. “There’ll be four shapes to choose from, 30 flavours that you can put it into those shapes, and there’ll be two styles of finishing, either a ganache or a chocolate velvet spray." (This sounds amazing! I think it's pretty much guaranteed that my next 10 birthday cakes will now be courtesy of my computer and the Messina freezer.)

“So we should be all ready to go right in the middle of winter! But it’ll be good because it’ll be a slow start and help us.”

Also in the kitchen will be a pastry chef from France. “All the pastry chefs go ‘yeah yeah, I know what I’m doing’, but they forget that gelato melts,” so Messina has been training her in the world of working with subzero-optimum desserts.

Nick also hopes to do a savoury degustation that incorporates gelato. “It’s really way out. We don’t know if it’s achievable yet.”

Gelato Messina will also be part of the new food complex at Star City Casino: “September, we’re going to open.”

Thanks to Nick Palumbo for being incredibly generous with his time and also taking me on a scoop-by-scoop tour of the gelato cabinet (BYO spoon)! Gelato Messina is one of my favourite places in Sydney – if you haven't been, put it on your to-do-very-soon list. You can find a longer version of this story in my food zine.

Gelato Messina, Shop 1/241 Victoria St, Darlinghurst NSW (02) 8354 1223, www.gelatomessina.com.au. You can also get 'Flavour Alerts' by following Gelato Messina on Twitter or Facebook.

El Capo, Surry Hills

2011-06-06T00:36:00.003+10:00

El Capo in Surry Hills is shot through with surprises, from the stacks of fake cash in one corner to the three-milk cake that looks so visually spectacular that it could easily go undercover in a hatted restaurant (but here it is, in a canteen selling Latin street food – curveball indeed).

Things seemed to have moved in warp-speed for this new place. Will's friend Guido sent me an email tip-off about El Capo when it officially opened ("Their tag line is 'Good Food for Bad People'", he wrote); within a few days, it was swamped with so many diners that it had to close a lunchtime just to focus on prepping for the upcoming evening service. We dropped by on Saturday afternoon – which was a nice, uncrazed time to go, but the overwhelming Friday-night blitz of diners meant a few things were completely sold out as a result (for instance, the empanadas, horchata and tamarind juice).

Luckily though, we could still order the Smokey Beans ($10), which live up to their fiery, flavour-charred title and are nicely rounded out with gold-crisp crumbs, wilted spinach, soft-booked egg and spring onions. Will enjoyed his Arroz Con Pollo ($10), aka Carribean Chicken Rice, and I especially liked the warm mounds of Corn Bread ($5), with their hint of cumin and easy-compatibility with house-made butter. And the complimentary Popped Maize in Spice Mix does its job, taming your appetite while you wait for your food to arrive.

The Three Milk Cake ($10) is three kinds of awesome: and if you want the mystery cleared, the triple-dairy culprits are buttermilk (which is soaked through the sponge), dulce de leche (its caramel smears easily identifiable for quick plate-cleaning spoonwork) and milk sponge. A small tube of panna-cotta and a fresh scattering of pomegranate seeds and cherry halves share some of the dessert spotlight.

The cake is beautifully plated and, we're told, hints at the tweezer-work and presentation-savviness that can be seen at dinner – which includes a liquid nitrogen chocolate mousse (it masquerades under the excellent name of Cesar Negro). That's enough to inspire me to do battle with the night-time crowd.

El Capo's DNA can be traced to Omar Andrade and his work in the guerilla dining scene, 20-year-old head chef Joey Astorga (they crossed paths thanks to these pop-up dinners) and Josh Logue (whose creative direction of the interior includes the stacks of fake money on the floor and the counterfeit currency that come with your bill – it's just one of the many "Narco Cinema" visual references on show.) Their triple-barrel wit, talent and energy translates into an eatery I would put on my "let's go here again" list. (It's next door to Orto Trading Co, a place that would rank high on that chart.) And while last year seemed to be about fine-dining going a tad casual, I really like this recent spike in canteens where napkin overuse is inevitable, eating-with-your-hands is encouraged, the menu redirects you through Latin America and, instead of worrying about whether the meal will be another addition to your credit card debt, you actually walk home with change in your pocket (and, at El Capo, a fake bill or two).

El Capo, 52 Waterloo Street Surry Hills (02) 9699 2518, www.elcapo.com.au

El Loco, Surry Hills

2011-06-01T00:05:00.004+10:00

It's fun smashing tacos at the El Loco cantina in Surry Hills, but a major serviette-frisk of your face/hands afterwards may be necessary – the one-way slide of fillings as you work through the ingredient-crammed tortilla is kinda inevitable.

I'm enjoying the rise of the messy, eat-with-your-hands approach. Like The Dip, this eatery is about fun, unstuffy food done well. In between Lotus and Ms G's, talented chef Dan Hong (and surely Merivale Overachiever of the Year?) has somehow found the time to research and scorecard the best Mex offerings overseas and translate that into his own menu.

So, surprisingly, you'll find a taco teeming with fiery-sweet cubes of tofu and coriander ($5) – an unconventional mash-up of flavours that works (ditto the salad piled with tortilla strips, shavings of fennel, radish, avocado and chilli-spiced beancurd). As Dan Hong explained on the El Loco blog, "I like to think of Mexican food as the Vietnamese of South America. They use a lot of fresh herbs and lots of fresh salsas that keeps it nice and light, which is very similar to Vietnamese food."

This influence is less overt in offerings like the Excelsior Hot Dog ($7), which hides mayo, salsa and pickled jalapenos under a light snowfall of cheese, or the Corn Chips ($5) with creamy guacamole and garlicky salsa.

This canteen is stage one of The Excelsior's conversion into a Mexican restaurant. That this scruffy live music venue, which used to front DIY bands like Eddy Current Suppression Ring, is now in the hands of millionaire Justin Hemmes and the city's largest hospitality group is a hard-to-swallow proposition for some. One point I'd concede to Hemmes is that at least he hires really talented chefs who do interesting things. And while not everyone wants ritzy, gentrified hangouts in Surry Hills (I certainly don't), El Loco at least seems to be a casual, lo-fi spot that trades in affordable, likeable food. (Its musical diet of Coldplay, Temper Trap and Kings of Leon may be less easy to digest, though.)

El Loco, 64 Foveaux Street, Surry Hills NSW (02) 9211 4945, www.elloco.com.au

The Dip, Goodgod, Sydney

2011-05-26T14:26:00.002+10:00

The Dip is named after the substance that kills cartoons in Who Framed Roger Rabbit?, but its effect on humans is pretty awesome. Run by Levins, (DJ and Weber-blitzing ace) and Bianca Khalil (sandwichface.com), this canteen inside Goodgod inspires "I'm so glad this exists" gratitude.

The golden-brown, addictive fries are piled with fresh salsa (the jumble of tomato is such a great enabler of eating more chips), the Double Bean Nachos ($14) is a fine napkin-messing mass of smoky, earthy pinto and black beans, shot through with salsa, spicy chipotle and tangy lime cream. One bite into the Southern Smoke ($12) sandwich, which is loaded with 12-hour-smoked pulled pork and apple/cabbage slaw, Will made a face that can only be translated via exclamation marks. And choosing between the Ice Cold Guac ($10) and the Cookies & Cream ($10) is like the dessert equivalent of Betty vs Veronica or Brooke vs Taylor. The for and against arguments will continue for ages, although the fact that the salted caramel ice cream (nicely wedged between choc-molasses biscuits) will now be sprinkled with crunchy toffee shards probably means it will narrowly out-ace the avocado ice cream and strawberry-mint salsa with waffle chips.

This is the first time I've mentioned an eatery on the blog where I am friends with the people behind it (and declaration: I had two complimentary mini ice-cream sambos at the launch!), but I would still love The Dip even if we were strangers. I think the fact that this place happened to be packed on a bitterly cold Wednesday night – the first Wednesday since it opened – and the vibe rated pretty highly on the "how good is this place?" scale, I think that says a lot. Plus, it's so reasonably priced and it's fast food with heart and wit (inspired by everything from Vietnamese avocado smoothies to Ron Swanson). Unless you're a cartoon, try The Dip.

The Dip at Goodgod, 55 Liverpool Street, Sydney NSW thedip.com.au

My food zine

2011-05-26T00:13:00.005+10:00

Sorry for the accidental blog hibernation – I've been crazy-busy cranking out copies of my latest zine, which is about food.

If you're at all zine-curious, this issue features a ton of great people in it, including interviews with Lemonpi, Nick Palumbo of Gelato Messina, Angie Schiavone of Everyday Eats, Levins of The Dip and Alon Sharman of Restaurant Arras.

Peach writes a fun piece about what it was like to carry out a marriage proposal in a restaurant and Blake Thompson details his epic attempt to eat at Noma in Copenhagen. I also love Al Grigg's two cents on why he loves "crap food". Dave Regos picks out some memorable meals from on-the-road travelling in the USA (some memorable for extraordinarily wrong reasons). Mark Drew scavenged for something to eat during the quake crisis in Tokyo.

There's also ace artwork by Greedy Hen, Grace Lee (see below!) and Will Reichelt.

And there are a few bits I wrote for it (and cut/folded/stuck/stamped for it, too). If you're in any way keen on a copy, you can get it online for $10 (plus postage) here. Thanks to all the people who dropped by at the MCA Zine Fair to snap one up on the weekend, you're all exceptionally ace!

Normal transmission resumes soon …

Biota Dining, Bowral

2011-05-14T23:53:00.007+10:00

A 220km round trip is a long way to chase a meal, but Biota Dining in Bowral is not just a standard place to sit down for dinner. Giant rocks of pink Murray salt frame the open kitchen where renowned chefs James Viles and Shaun Quade transform empty plates into culinary wildcards. There's a glasshouse in the garden that lushly grows over 40 ingredients – some from Europe, some from a much more walkable distance. A sprawling tree plays the role of sculptural attention-seeker in the restaurant's centre.

And the food – from a "pre-teaser" that is shot out of a cream gun, Star-Trek-style, and served into a glass on your table (it's a futuristic swoop of rhubarb cooked for 25 hours and elderflower) to a green tea cake with Pacojet roast coconut milk, pineapple "surprise", pomegranate underneath and sprinkling of fennel pollen – it all fizzes, pops, snaps, tingles or just leaves a memorable medley of all-in-one sensations. Less tech-driven approaches also make an impact: mushrooms, slippery jack and pines, foraged by the chefs, are served with garlic crumbs and parsnip so fried and thin it's like a cracker – delicious. At play is a simple trick that requires no fancy gadgetry: the chefs simply add lemon because a squeeze of citrus makes the mushrooms taste more "mushroomy". It's a flavour-charging effect.

Like any menu chasing high-thrill pursuits, a few dishes are more ambitious than successful – but you're mainly glad that it's going full-throttle and ignoring the middle of the road. Biota Dining's still a worthwhile adventure.

Biota Dining, 18 Kangaloon Rd, Bowral NSW (02) 4862 2005, www.biotadining.com

Gastro Park, Potts Point

2011-05-08T23:54:00.005+10:00

Gastro Park in Potts Point converts each plate on your table into a playground – ingredients flirt with the colour wheel and inspire stomach-flips and early-childhood thrills. Surprise textures and flavours are part of the adventure.

This is the new restaurant for Grant King, who was head chef at the acclaimed Pier. From the Ralph Steadman-like logo for Gastro Park to the see-through cutlery holders made out of gel and odds-and-ends, everything is spiked with a sense of fun.

Dishes include Wagyu Grissini flavour-coated in savoury crumbs and shreds of cheese; a ready-for-blast-off Gazpacho served with an avocado "sandwich" (made with lacey-crisp wafers); a Zucchini Tofu accompanied by a "garden" (cucumber ribbons, dried zucchini slices and zucchini powder round out the "greenery"); and Potato "Churros" (golden, crisp-edged and impossibly fluffy and light – the greasy-fingered guilt of eating one is offset by the cheeky joy of it).

Will loved the Tagliatelle entree, its tangled strands full of resounding flavour thanks to the "textures of duck" and slippery jack mushrooms ($26). His main, Saddle of Lamb was supercharged with cauliflower slivers and wild mushrooms ($38).

My Morel and Truffle Cheese Macaroni ($35) was also brilliant – the intensely savoury "tubes" were ready to be coated in a rich egg yolk confit. A handful of salad leaves and tart Jerusalem artichoke fragments kept it from being overlavish.

The wonderland quality of Gastro Park is most obvious with the desserts. The Mandarin and Chocolate ($20) is a mini-sculptural installation, with fizzy powder, chocolate shells, parfait and mandarin sauce either hidden or displayed in eye-catching configurations.

The highlight, though, is the Nitro Pavlova ($18), which is a frosty remix of the Australian staple. Dig your spoon right in, and you may scoop out some bracing guava sorbet, coconut "bubbles", basil seeds or lush shavings of pineapple. It's a light-headed marvel and light years from the pav you'll find at a local bake sale.

Another aspect of Gastro Park we really enjoyed: the service. Especially Julien, our waiter, who previously worked with Grant King at Pier. Not only was he knowledgeable, good-humoured and accommodating, he also wrote down a music recommendation for us when we were trying to case-solve what song was being played as we ate (Shazam had let us down and so had our hopeless brains; we guessed the track to be by Kings of Convenience, Julien corrected us by pointing out it was The Whitest Boy Alive – of course, Erlend Oye's other band!). It's an excellent thing that he's the custodian of the restaurant's song choices.

Also, the ever-changing menu contributes to the unstaid, playful atmosphere. The head chef decides on what to serve depending on the day's available produce and seasonality. While key dishes will stay, the not-set-in-stone openness adds a jolt of adventure and invention. The vegetarian menu I chose from was still being finalised at quarter to six before the evening's service.

Gastro Park is newly opened – it's only been around for over two weeks. It's a great counter-argument to people who assume that crowded restaurants are the best and empty ones are to be avoided. There weren't many other diners when we were there, mainly because the place's profile is still low. It's not going to stay that way for long, given the reputation of its kitchen and the quality and originality on show (also, it's going to land a major newspaper review rather soon).

This restaurant reminds you that it can be worth taking on that childhood habit of spending hours in a Park.

Gastro Park, 5-9 Roslyn St, Potts Point NSW (02) 8068 1017 www.gastropark.com.au.

Becasse and Quarter 21 open

2011-04-28T23:55:00.000+10:00

To get to Becasse, you now have to zip up the escalators at Westfield Sydney and walk through an Alice-in-Wonderland-style passageway. It's a little magical (like the rabbit hole in the fairytale, but minus the head bumps). You pass through the seasons, each step marked by a spectrum of changing leaf colours. And you end up, a little dazed, in a restaurant that only fits 25 diners, surrounded by plush lounges and intricate chandeliers suspended above you. It does not feel like a shopping mall at all.

But it is, and it's part of Justin and Georgia North's expansion into Westfield Sydney. Joining the new Becasse is Quarter 21, which moonlights as a new cooking school, fine-food grocer and restaurant. I only know this 'cos I somehow got invited to the launch yesterday and also did some extracurricular snooping around today, when both places opened. They join the Becasse Bakery, which has been marking its corner of Westfield's Level 5 with its croissants, bread and sweets for a week now. (And, across the floor, there's Charlie & Co., the Norths' gourmet burger venture and first Westfield outing, which had its debut last year.)

With the relocated Becasse, it'll be interesting to see how people take to fine-dining in a Sydney mall. The cost is no less high-end – three-course a la carte is $120, a five-course tasting menu is $150 and nine-course degustation is $190. I guess the pricing is the premium you pay for eating in a place with such limited seating, like the idea of first-class.

Evocative ingredients seem to get top billing on the menu ("forgotten vegetables, Coorong pipis, cranberry red potatoes, watermelon radish") and featured dishes include Bespoke Autumn Vegetable Garden, Marinated Local Yellowfin Tuna, Abalone Ham, Earl Grey Jelly, Wakame and Celeriac and Silken Lemongrass and Lime Caramel, Passionfruit Crunch with Vanilla Yogurt Sorbet. I'd love to know how it translates in this new, cosier space. (It's a beautiful spot and I imagine it'd be like dining in a really fancy hotel suite.)

Quarter 21 has more elbow room and is less of a special-occasion restaurant – although don't expect food-court prices (an Autumn Vegetale Lasagna with Beurre Noisette and Charred Pumpkin Puree is $32). I guess for the average Westfield shopper, though, a gateway Becasse purchase is more likely to be a small baguette at the bakery or a take-home meal from the Quarter 21 shop.

It's an interesting experiment and you can only wish the best to anyone who takes the instance of dining in a shopping centre – an experience usually freighted with low, grumbly expectations – and tries to inject it with originality and ambition.

Becasse, Level 5, Westfield Sydney, Cnr Pitt St Mall and Market St Sydney NSW (02) 9283 3440, www.becasse.com.au. Quarter 21 is next to Becasse. For details on cooking classes at Quarter 21, visit www.quartertwentyone.com.au And opposite is Becasse Bakery, where you can watch pastry chefs through the window while having a pastry.

Din Tai Fung Dumpling Bar, Westfield Sydney

2011-04-23T14:51:00.002+10:00

Din Tai Fung Dumpling Bar is the express version of the ultra-popular World Square haunt. It certainly was zippy when I was there on Thursday: there was zero queue and I handed over my order form with unexpected speed. So good news, the place has yet to inherit the long lines of its predecessor; let's hope that's 'cause it's ultra-efficient and streamlined and not due to it only being open a few days.

Helping to keep the queues short is the compact menu (and yes, Pork Dumpling Xiao Long Bao diehards should be happy to know their favourite made the cut). I like that you can get Vegetarian Wontons in Spicy Sauce ($6), something I didn't see on the World Square menu when I was last there (and, boy, is it way more exciting than the saintly Vegetarian Jiao Ze on offer). If you feel like you won't regret this decision on laundry day, you can also order the wontons in noodle soup, although as I much as I love the feisty, spicy-sweet sauce with its volatile splashback-levels, I'm sure my T-shirt would not.

Like at World Square, you can order the Dan Dan Noodles ($10.80), the Mango Pudding ($4.50) and the always awesome Lychee Mint Freeze ($5.80).

Oh and you still have spying capacity on the dumpling production process, too.

Like the rest of the overdesigned Westfield Sydney complex, it is tricky to find, but the circumnavigating is worth it. After several laps, you'll discover it tucked near the Stage Two food court options on Level 5. Hopefully without any long queue for easy identification.

Level 5, Westfield Sydney, Cnr Pitt St Mall and Market St Sydney, westfield.com.au/sydney

Orto Trading Co., Surry Hills

2011-04-20T23:46:00.005+10:00

I think this may be my new favourite restaurant.

I kinda had high-level suspicions that Orto Trading Co. in Surry Hills would be good – it's by the people who started Baffi & Mo in Redfern (Anne Cooper, Louise Hunt, Chris Low), a cafe that near-instantly became one of Sydney's best breakfast joints after it first opened. Their new operation is so great, though, it may even outblitz their previous project.

Since moving on from Baffi & Mo, the Orto Trading Co. crew has outgrown the moustache fixation, and focused on a modern bistro with lots of likeable flourishes and inventive, upcycled decor. Outside, they've created DIY kitchen gardens by taking stacked pallets and lining them with small buckets of parsley, oregano and basil. One large table is constructed from an industrial sign. Meals are illuminated by candle-holders made out of jam jars. Old bottles are tucked with flowers and suspended above the bar as height-defying vases.

The likeable wit also extends to the food. While you wait for your order, you are served a small bucket of popcorn as an appetite-containing snack. It's a fun twist on the usual bread you get as a meal-starter at restaurants. The popcorn is laced with a little truffle oil and, even as a truffle-oil naysayer, I have to admit that little dash of flavour gives that cinema staple a nice bite. This trademark touch of popcorn seems to be a deal-breaker for some people – a few folks I've mentioned this to say that they'd be happy to eat at Orto Trading Co. just for this fact alone.

Here's for an embarrassing admission – we actually ate three small buckets of popcorn before we got to our meal. But, you can't pin that entirely on our greed; there was also an unusually long wait for the food.

We'd ended up at Orto Trading Co. on the first night it opened and – surprisingly, on a cold Tuesday with little advance notice of the opening sign going up – the restaurant was utterly crowded. From the start, we were told there'd be at least an hour-long delay for our meals. Under such hunger-haunting circumstances, the staff was extremely kind and lovely (how could you not like waiters who kept plying you with popcorn to reward your patience? Or their knack for describing the wine list as having reds, whites and "some cheeky rosés"?). They were accommodating and continued to be sweetly apologetic, even though they'd clearly told us how much time it'd take before any dishes would hit our table, and we were fine with accepting that long-wait bargain. It was the bistro's first night, after all, and we just had the bad luck to be seated just after a massive party had put in its orders.

The thoughtful, ultra-attentive service sweetened the wait, and the food was such a pay-off. Spunta Potato Batons ($9), golden-brown and delicious, were sprinkled with chilli salt, and quickly disappeared under stealth attack from forks and etiquette-shunning fingers. Will enjoyed his Slow Cooked Pork Shoulder ($28), its slices served with paint-like strokes of carrot puree and brussel sprouts so tasty (charred, sweet, crunchy) that they could reboot the poor reputation the maligned vegetable has with kids. The dish was very rewarding on the eye – almost painting-perfect, and in fact, the pear it was served with looked like something taken from a classic still-life.

Now, a Cabbage Roll ($24) may not sound so attractive (I think sad uni bain-maries are to blame for our queasy apprehension), but at Orto Trading Co., this dish is laced with such well-measured flavour – a light tangle of wild mushrooms, gritty-toasty walnut crunch, salty linger of goat's cheese, simple pearl barley stuffing and rich sweetness of house-made tomato sauce. It's a lovely mix.

A fine side dish is the Autumn Vegetable Salad, a pretty pile of baby zucchini, squash and brussel sprouts – lightly cooked and still colour-bright, garnished with French tarragon and placed on smears of carrot puree ($12). It's a much-appreciated upgrade on the usual steamed vegies or joyless leaf salad option. In fact, all the offerings here play nicely against the stock standard ideas. There's a lot of originality at work – a lovely relief from the case of menu deja vu you can get, when the same dishes keep reappearing at most restaurants.

I'd watched the desserts travel the room all night, and it was a great shame that we had no time/stomach-space left for a Gingerbread Crumble, Rhubarb and Pomegranate Trifle or Chocolate and Chestnut Mousse. I also would love to come back to try the cheeses, which sound like intriguing stand-alone courses instead of the item that tries to bring life to the tired cracker + dried fruit equation. For instance, Touree de L'Aubier is served with autumn fruits baked in parchment ($12), La Luna Holy Goat is accompanied by celeriac remoulade ($12), and Pyrengana cheddar gets hooked up with pear piccalilli and home-made pickles ($12). Sounds like great bait for the cheese-curious.

Oh, and Orto Trading Co. also will be open for lunch for part of the week – so I'm keen to see what the options are like then, too.

Not that I have to search hard to find reasons to return to this new favourite.

Orto Trading Co., 38 Waterloo St, Surry Hills NSW 0431 212 453, www.ortotradingco.com.au

Toku Toku, Glebe

2011-04-10T23:44:00.002+10:00

Named after the sound of sake as it's poured into glass, Toku Toku is a new izakaya in Glebe. As you'd expect, a shortage of Japanese alcohol is not one of its problems. It's an inviting spot on Glebe Point Road – an airy space with big windows, black-stained timber and high-patterned cushions; the courtyard even has a goldfish pond and small footbridge.

The menu is as fun as the name of this sake/wine bar, despite a few dishes being a tad off-key. Tomato, Tomato, Tomato ($14) is a cute take on your Caprese salad, although the Italians probably never used mozzarrella as target practice for tall noodle strands. Will liked the thick pool of balsamic vinegar that the salad was slicked with; I found it too intense; for me, the pesto was better at adding zip to the cherry tomatoes and creamy cheese.

The Mixed Mushrooms ($16) were also a debate-starter; Will dismissed them as too rich, but I liked the buttery-miso sauce that the clusters of enoki and shiitake had been sauteed in. The Wagyu Steak ($23), with delicious yuzu-zingy dipping sauce, Crispy Pork Belly with mustard and chilli-bean sauce and Soyu Warm Cabbage ($14) all passed the clean-plate test with no argument. All of them were great, especially the cabbage salad, which I was initially skeptical about (anything cooked in truffle oil – that highly synthetic, tastebud-strangling flavour that's the yuppie equivalent of MSG – is unquestionably gross), but it was surprisingly subtle, with hints of many flavours – rather than the mono-taste of truffle oil. The tangle of chilli-spiked strands and deep-fried onions were good bonus company.

Will and I were on the same side about the Spicy Edamame; I'd ordered it thinking it'd be like the brilliant chilli-soy edamame at Cafe Ish, but it was just shichimi heavily sprinkled over bean pods. People with less wussy temperaments might enjoy this dish more, but after eating enough spice-flecked edamame to advance to uncomfortable stages of lip-burning, we'd be happy to order the plain version next time.

We also agreed that the Tempura Mars Bar was lots of fun: equal parts delicious and high-calorie shamelessness. Let's face it, it's pretty much guaranteed that battered and fried chocolate (hiding a bonus seam of caramel) is going to be awesome. Toku Toku smartly serves it in three snack-sized bars with sliced strawberry. This is the perfect amount between two people; this well-rationed caramel-sticky dosage is all you want.

This izakaya has only been open for three weeks and perhaps that's why it hasn't hit smooth-running mode yet. After several checks to make sure the staff hadn't forgotten about it, our edamame arrived long after we'd finished all our other dishes. It's especially odd as it's usually a starter and is not a labour-intensive snack at all. And the tempura Mars Bar took an incredibly long time to appear.

The wait staff were quite nice and apologetic about it, and I imagine things will be seamless given some time. (Also, there was a pretty big party the night we went; that probably slowed the kitchen down.) Despite the odd imperfections, Toku Toku is a nice addition to Glebe. We stuck to unadventurous drinks for the night, but we'd like to come back and hear the sound of sake hitting glass for ourselves.

Toku Toku, 36 Glebe Point Road, Glebe NSW (02) 9660 9636

Wild Cockatoo Bakery, Redfern

2011-04-05T23:39:00.006+10:00

There are parts of Botany Road in Redfern that are like a shopfront cemetery – filled with empty display windows or long-shut doors. So you instantly notice when a once-vacant space starts showing vital signs and encouraging proof of a new existence.

I came across Wild Cockatoo Bakery on the weekend, when it had been open for only "three and a half days". It is run by a lovely gent by the name of Ray, who has been mostly based overseas; he likes baking so much that he even has a commercial oven in his garden, to make loaves for his friends.

The bread and treats at Wild Cockatoo are baked in a more conventionally located space. And its shelves feature pies, quite a few sourdough varieties, croissants studded with Belgian chocolate (all gone by the time I turned up, sadly) and a few fruit tarts (pear poached in shiraz and lemon-cured plum were the ones on offer that day). I especially liked the fragrant and sweet Apple Galette ($3.50).

Ray was surprised by the keen demand and explained that more savouries and sourdough loaves will be added to the line-up. Judging from the many people who crowded into the bakery in the short time I was there – including the older couple who cutely identified themselves as "breadies" – there will be just as many visitors keen on walking away with a bag of shelf-liberated goods.

Wild Cockatoo Bakery, 30 Botany Road, Redfern

Sweet Architextural

2011-03-22T23:17:00.003+11:00

It started with a spoonful of bubblegum-flavoured bubbles. Served to me by someone who looked like an Oompa Loompa returning from ballet school.

This was my introduction to Sweet Architextural, the night that Bompas & Parr and Burch & Purchese recently staged for Melbourne Food & Wine Festival.

The event was like a dream-sequence directed by Willy Wonka, set in the unlikely surrounds of The Espy pub. The UK jellymongers (who once created glow-in-the-dark jelly for Mark Ronson's birthday and recently set up a 200-flavour chewing gum factory in a shopping mall) were teaming up with the renowned Melbourne-based pastry chefs, for a night of wobbly, confectionery-powered fun.

The first part of the event unfolded with their sweets being trafficked through the crowd. Costumed wait-staff carrying giant bouquets of chocolate flowers were tailgated by the room's hordes and, bloom by bloom, these floral treats were plucked away by guests. (The lemon and raspberry flowers were especially delightful.) Trays of celery-cucumber jelly, Vegemite-and-cheese popcorn, checkerboard marzipan and alcoholic marshmallows all had a high-clearance rate from roving punters. One of my favourites was the "petrified" cauliflower, a dessert where the vegetable had been pureed into a petri dish and sprinkled with sweet crumbs and plonked with a slice of pear. I passed on the foie-gras pastry swans, though, for obvious reasons.

It was also fun to see people pop gin-and-tonic marshmallows (or mojito equivalents) in their mouth, chew, and then watch their faces go "!!!!" as the alcohol hit sudden and intensely. Down one end of the bar, Sam Bompas was unmoulding plum riesling jellies to hand out (apparently the booze makes it easier to loosen); at the other, part of the Burch & Purchese crew was serving scoops of Violet Crumble and bubblegum ice cream.

I'd gone to this gig by myself – I bought the ticket ages ago, and the el cheapo plane fare to go with it – and was worried I'd end up in that horror loop of endlessly checking your phone to (shabbily) hide how you really have no company (a well-worn move often followed by the "earliest I can leave without shame" brain calculations). Sweet Architextural was non-stop fun, though, and the atmosphere jolting with buzz and curiosity. You could easily ask a stranger what flavour their oddball sweet was or which hidden corner of the room they had chanced across it. And there was a lot of visual dazzle to be wonderfully distracted by.

This portion of the night took place in near-darkness (or "snog lighting", as some Cupid-struck opportunists might call it), so there are zero pics featured here, unfortunately. Luckily, there wasn't such a dim haze for the final part of Sweet Architextural. Matt Preston came to the front of the room to deliver a speech and then welcomed Bompas & Parr and Burch & Purchese to the raised platform, with the former duo explaining their inclination for bowties (more hygenic than ties, when you're working with jellies) and the latter explaining how they'll be "pimping up your pud" when the Burch & Purchese Sweet Studio opens soon in Melbourne. Then, the curtain was raised, and you could see what the four of them had been secretly plotting on, during their previous "72 hours of back-breaking labour".

As Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy played, a flurry of "ballet dancers" swirled around a woman in period costume – it was hard not to notice her dress, which fanned out to become a massive table displaying Bompas & Parr's "erotic" nipple-shaped jellies.

Behind her were some displays of architectural gelatin-set wonders – including jellies in the shape of iconic Melbourne buildings (pictured at the top of this post).

And on the raised stage at the back was a sugar-laced wonderland: generous tables set with staggering, eye-blitzing confections, all fronted by the name "Burch & Purchese" in huge edible letters. There were petal-topped pastries, honeycomb covered in "bees", domino-shaped sweets, tiers and tiers of jellies, beehive-shaped meringues with (yes) more "bees", more gigantic chocolate flowers, and the logical extension of choc soil – confectionery "worms" mid-wriggle amongst the dirt.

There were plates and spoons aplenty and everyone pushed forward to get their unlimited fill of spectacularly rendered sugar. This once-in-a-lifetime pass to all-you-can-eat sweets was sending my inner-kid crazy, but unfortunately I had already overgorged on the previous array of marshmallows, ice cream, jellies and confections, and could not consume one creamy/frosted/choc-topped/honeycombed bite more.

Other people were more appetite-hardy than I was and I was jealous of their ability to max out on what was available. The one-woman-table of jellies had already been restocked – gone were the "erotic" shapes, replaced by more G-rated treats.

It was a night of extreme fun, rewarding both for my sweet tooth and field of vision. And while Sweet Architextural is over, it's nice to know that its adventurous, sugar-fuelled spirit lives on with the future opening of Burch & Purchese's shopfront in South Yarra. (For a taster, you can visit the pop-up version in Melbourne's Flinders Lane, but hurry, its expiration date is Friday.)

For more on Bompas & Parr, visit the website; for info on Burch & Purchese, head here.

The Fern, Redfern

2011-03-14T23:46:00.003+11:00

Surry Hills has long been the natural habitat of the upcoming cafe, but, according to last week's Good Living, Redfern may be (slowly) taking over. I'm always a little dubious when a suburb is pronounced as 'hot' – maybe because it sounds like slimey real-estate speak – but there's definitely case-supporting evidence for this claim. I guess the groundwork for Redfern's resurgence was laid by Baffi and Mo, Moose General Store (RIP) and Eathouse Diner.

And now there's The Fern, down the part of Pitt Street that starts to edge onto Cleveland.

It's only about two weeks old, and despite the odd case of just-opened-itis, it feels like there is a lot to like about this cafe. The Fern is located in a breezy terrace, with an eccentric jumble of furniture (I'm pretty sure we sat on kindergarten chairs). Even from the courtyard, the truck-rumbling score of Cleveland Street is nicely out of earshot, and that leafy space is a nice spot to be coolly sipping the Hibiscus, Rosehip, Cinnamon and Mint Iced Tea. It's refreshing to see a drink that departs from the usual banana-smoothie-and-juice line-up at most cafes. (And, yes, I've already thought about my next beverage at The Fern, and it's going to be the Chocolate, Orange and Cardamom Milkshake).

The interior, meanwhile, is like a case of wallpaper hip hop – random samples of visual genres are candystriped throughout: from giant old ads for Pimms and Johnny Walker to newspaper comics and travel photography. This bent for switching things up also extends to the menu, which is presented on vinyl records.

And the food itself is worth some high-rotation attention. The consulting chef is Massimo Bianchi (Uccello, Buon Ricordo), which explains the Italian-inflected lunch offerings – like the rather ace Eggplant with Tomato, Provola and Parmesan ($14.50), which sounds like a boring sandwich filling from how it's presented on the menu, but is actually a brilliant eggplant parmigiana, with the smoky-rich provola giving the dish a good jumpstart.

Will enjoyed The Fern Club Sandwich ($17), which banked in a good amount of flavour (roast chicken, bacon, iceberg lettuce, aged cheddar, Roma tomato) without being an overly big, impossible-to-bite-into stockpile of fillings. Instead of hand-cut chips, there was a serve of hash browns instead (the kitchen had run out of potatoes), which is part of the quirk of a new cafe, I suppose. (This lack of spuds also meant we couldn't try the Crushed Potatoes with Pesto, alas. Next time.)

Speaking of things that were off-limits, unfortunately for an unreformed sleepyhead like myself, The Fern ends its breakfast menu at 11.30am. I guess the lazy policy of all-day weekend breakfasts at most cafes has spoilt me and I need to learn that midday is not always a respectable time to have your first meal of the day.

We will return, then, to try the Eggs Rancheros ($17.50), Sourdough Bruschetta ($13.50), 'Fernivore' Breakfast ($17) and Corn Fritters with Avocado Salsa and Goat's Cheese ($17.50).

And we'll also revisit when the crew behind The Fern (Julian Serna and Mark Wiley, ex-Merivale staff) get a licence and start running services at night. The main upshot is that we'll be back.

The Fern, 4 Pitt Street, Redfern, www.thefern.com.au

Birthday eats

2011-03-03T23:29:00.006+11:00

One of the upsides of turning older: getting to pin birthday candles into something fun. I am not sure if this cake endured any instance of lighting or wax-melting but it sure was a party highlight. I think it even earned a round of applause!

Someone who deserves many claps and cheers: Will, who secretly organised this one-of-a-kind cake, hatching the plot with Chris The, of the awesome Black Star Pastry. Originally, Chris was going to make a "hug" cake, where the vanilla half meets the chocolate half in a "hug". I think plans for street art projections were even discussed! This alternative was pretty spectacular though: underneath the white "petals" were chocolate, raspberry and a genius layer of gingerbread.

Applause also needs to go to Levins, who brought over his deep-fryer (!) to cook a generous batch of his reputation-making battered pickles and ranch dressing. So awesome.

I tried to ply everyone with fun eats (blueberry, half-choc & strawberry Pocky; mini Makmak macarons; Miss Chu rice paper rolls; Sally's slices of pumpkin delicious) in the hopes it would fuel them for rounds of Singstar. Later, I handed out lolly bags (this is the sole point of turning 30) and the last ones standing enjoyed well-rationed amounts of yuzu sake that Will had employed astounding amounts of detective work to track down. (That's what friends are for – to share the toast-worthy spoils with.) It was a mega-dose of fun, as ageing-not-so-gracefully should be.

Black Star Pastry, 277 Australia St, Newtown NSW, 2042, (02) 9557 8656

Vacanza Pizzeria, Charing Cross

2011-03-03T22:17:00.003+11:00

Have you ever had pizza so good that it wipes out your memory?

Vacanza in Charing Cross had this effect on me. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a slice so much. It's much easier to recall all the bad pizzas – the greasetraps with a crust; the dough overkill; the pile-up of unending toppings, which only lead to oven-baked blandness – like an overproduced teen pop record.

I made a note to check out Vacanza after a great write-up it got in a recent Time Out. It's definitely worth singling out. This pizzeria avoids the all-of-the-above approach to slinging on ingredients and instead refines the toppings so that what's there actually counts. I like how the kitchen can uncap so much flavour out of a handful of things – a roasted tomato is still bracing, sweet and generously (and rather shirt-unfriendly) juicy and not a shrivelled, overbaked puck. A slice of eggplant is grilled to that lovely, yielding point before caramelisation. Even a simple scattering of basil (against all that cheese) is nicely deployed.

I've spent all week working out when I can have another one. It'll probably be worth any amnesia it causes.

Vacanza, 261 Bronte Road Charing Cross NSW (02) 9090 2089, www.vacanzapizzeria.com.au

Everyday Eats

2011-03-03T21:53:00.000+11:00

There's a new food guide out. Called Everyday Eats, it features 450 wallet-friendly feeds from across Sydney. Edited by the wonderful Angie Schiavone (former regional editor of the Good Food Guide and eternal titleholder of best person to ask about dumplings in Ashfield), it lets you know where you can get a good hunger-sating return on a $30 bill. My favourite part is Angie's section on handy categories such as "Biggest Bargain", "Favourite Big Group Venue" and "Favourite Rainy-Day Dish"; there's also a nice breakdown of the best breakfasts, late night feeds, banh mi and "lolly bag legends". Good takeaway and vegetarian options are also noted.

I should admit, the contributors' list for Everyday Eats features Joanna Savill, Helen Greenwood, Fouad Kassab and, um, me. It was fun to go undercover dining for the book, but I think I will enjoy using it as a where-to-eat aid even more.

Everyday Eats can be found in bookstores and iPhone addicts may be happy to know that an app version is now available.

Soba, thanks

2011-02-22T21:19:00.001+11:00

In case you ever get Dumpling Burnout in Ashfield, it's good to know that there's an alternative to jiaozi and wontons on Liverpool Road. A new Japanese place has opened and I sure hope it has a longer survival rate than the previous sushi and udon eatery that sprung up (and just as quickly vanished).

Called L & J Japanese restaurant, it doesn't depart wildly from the suburban Japanese template, but I did enjoy the ice-chilled soba, ready for dipping into a shallot and wasabi-spiked broth. It's incredibly simple, with zero trickery, but that's what I like about it. Something that stripped-back still contains a little punch.

And if you're really struck by painful Dumpling Withdrawal, I suppose you could always ask for some gyoza.

L & J Japanese Restaurant, 222 Liverpool Road, Ashfield NSW (02) 9716 0021

Greenhouse by Joost, Sydney

2011-02-16T23:17:00.003+11:00

Greenhouse by Joost has turned up in Sydney with some heavyweight publicity.

No surprise – its attention-seeking cleverness justifies all the high-exposure coverage. This shipping-container-turned-pop-up-eco-cafe has inventively reworked everything from jam jars (as lighting and drinking glasses), and conveyor belts (as flooring) and its inspired sustainability has you continually playing a game of "guess-what-this-was-before"? (Before: table; after: toilet door.) It's "clad" in a vertical garden of potted strawberries and there's a big focus on composting waste, minimising water use and relying on recyclable materials (the staff uniforms are even sourced from op shops).

For a project that makes a high-profile deal about sustainability, it would be awesome if there was more than just one take-it-or-leave-it dinner option for vegetarians. And yes, that dish is only – heart sink – a salad. Luckily though, it is a pretty damn fine salad – carrots and beetroot, roasted-through and flavour-glazed, with some pistachio crunch and generous smears of goat's cheese for extra savoury flourish. (If only it could be upsized into a bigger portion!)

The dessert is a Watermelon Jelly with a bracing rose-berry yogurt (so bracing that you may be grateful for the naturally occurring sugars in the fruit).

Joost Bakker's pop-up cafe (headed by Perth's Greenhouse's acclaimed head chef Matt Stone, who can be seen working both the kitchen and floor in Sydney) is only around until the end of March. Make sure to check it out (especially as the rooftop bar will soon open) before it leaves for Milan.

Greenhouse By Joost, Campbells Cove, greenhousebyjoost.com

Arras again

2011-02-14T00:40:00.002+11:00

It's hard not to be knocked out at Restaurant Arras. Every dish seems to blaze with high-resolution colour and the flavours are just as carefully, exquisitely rendered: elegant, playful and thrill-seeking.

I've already written about this great restaurant but it's difficult not to re-praise the people who cast this dinner-long spell on us: the incredibly inspired chefs and co-owners, Adam Humphrey and Lovaine Allen, and the highly likeable floor staff led by Alon Sharman (who deservedly won the Good Food Guide's Silver Service Award last year). The food is so eye-dazzling that one of the waiters even uses pictures of the dishes as his desktop wallpaper.

I'm not going into the mega-detail that I did in my previous review; instead, this is a grab-bag of highlights from our recent visit.

Like the buzz you get from clicking instantly with a book's first chapter, I love how the awesomeness of a restaurant's bread selection is a dead cert that the meal ahead will be pretty great. It's the best kind of spoiler alert. On offer at Arras was a fine array, including sushi bread (thus named because it's studded with sesame seeds and hides pickled ginger inside!) and the caramelised onion bread (I committed bread-plate theft for it, it was worth the charge of felony).

The amuse-bouche (top) was a smart and stunning take on witlof salad – a-swirl with flowers, Spanish blue cheese, seasoned pear and a painterly smear of avocado puree.

My entree, the Fruit and Veg was the sequel to the The Raw and The Cooked dish I had last time – a 14-part mystery that doubled as a gorgeous salad. Follow-ups usually struggle to live up to the original's glory, but the colour-blitzing Fruit and Veg, with its sculptural curls and spheres of tomato, cucumber, radishes and stone fruits, really wiped out its predecessor.

It was also a dish with viral pull – as soon as the neighbouring diners saw it arrive on our table, they ordered it, too. It's that visually entrancing. (Also, it reconfirms that Arras has dependably great and imaginative vegetarian options; there's no afterthought mushroom risotto on this menu.)

Although I'd wanted to return to Arras for a while, what fast-tracked our revisit was seeing this tweet by Gourmet Traveller's Pat Nourse:

Popcorn "cinematic" soufflé just one of the detour-worthy hits at Restaurant Arras. Definitely worth a fresh look if it's been a while.

It's true, the Popcorn Souffle is highly worth singling out: studded with puffed kernels, it also comes with a mini bag of popcorn and a scoop of popcorn sorbet. You tip a jug of caramel sauce into the souffle and the rich trickle is what makes the souffle disappear in about five record-breaking spoonfuls. All that's missing is a mini film projector. (And, sadly, this popcorn dish is not yet available in jumbo at your nearest cinema.)

Of course, the legendary petits fours plate is unmissable at Arras. It was impossible to pass up the passionfruit ganache, grapefruit jelly and (I couldn't stop laughing at this name) the sour "dib dabs". Such a feelgood ending to a night that was genuinely fun and thrilling; it was sad to walk out the door and, reluctantly, break the spell.

Restaurant Arras, 24 Hickson Road, Walsh Bay NSW (02) 9252 6285, www.restaurant-arras.com.au

The Devonshire, Surry Hills

2011-01-31T00:55:00.003+11:00

There's no mystery as to how this restaurant got its name, but The Devonshire is still sharp-witted enough to catch diners by surprise.

Located near the point where Steel Street sneaks into Devonshire in Surry Hills (or as your mental GPS will calculate it: footsteps away from The Shakespeare Hotel), this new establishment takes its geographical surrounds much more to heart than you'd expect.

A key dessert actually pays tribute to the street address – as well as the tea of the same name. Devonshire Tea Crème Brûlée ($15) is served with whipped cream, cherry jam and a scoop of scone ice cream perched atop sweet crumbs. It's a very likeable and whipsmart deconstruction of an afternoon tea; the brûlée keeps the crackable-caramel sweetness in check with a brew-flavoured custard.

As our waiter served the dessert, I told him that I thought the idea of placing a tea-flavoured brûlée in an actual teacup was quite "cute".

"Our grandmothers don't think so," he deadpanned. "They've got nothing to drink their tea out of."

Apparently the staff members went around sweet-talking their Nans into handing over their teacups. It involved a lot of convincing and overstating of how chipped the crockery was (and actual chipping action, to further strengthen the case that their grans would find the cups unuseable). This was the level of banter at The Devonshire, which probably boasts the most good-humoured service I've come across. (The staff also could double as an interior decorating crack team, given the hands-on role they played in physically making the restaurant happen.)

Devonshire Tea Crème Brûlée was not the only appetite-sating dish we had at The Devonshire. The beetroot + goat's curd standard is reconfigured a little here, with sweet beet discs partnered with crisp, fat-golden potatoes, toasted pine nuts and a salty mousse whipped from Woodside goat's curd ($18).

Will's main contained three (rich) takes on Bangalow pork (belly, loin and shoulder), which reminded me of that conversation between Homer and Lisa on The Simpsons (Lisa: "Dad, all those meats come from the same animal". Dad: "Right, Lisa, some wonderful, magical animal!") Pillowy-soft Potato Gnocci ($26) were served with flavour-rich pine mushrooms and peas cooked in a reduced mushroom stock.

Also, you know your dinner is off to a good start when you are won over by the bread-and-butter alone. I'm not one to usually moon over a butter dish, but ours came with a scoop of such knife-spreadable goodness. It was a curl of light, aerated butter, sweetly accented with honey. It was so delicious – I could have easily just eaten it endlessly.

Sometimes when we go out and we're the youngest diners in a room, and the tone of the restaurant seems serious, proper and overconcerned with the right tablecloth, we worry that the experience will be very stuffy. When I first walked into The Devonshire, I feared that this could be the case, but I was completely wrong. The service was so witty and likeable, while being professional, knowledgeable and totally onto it. Each nosey question was answered in a comprehensive and friendly fashion. And the food managed to be well thought-out and high-quality, while being accessible and, at times, inventive.

This seems to be another instance of Sydney's over-riding trend in fine-dining: a high-pedigree culinary team taking an approach that's more relaxed and less serious (although this particular restaurant has more of a traditional touch than renegades such as Duke Bistro or Ms G's). Credit for The Devonshire goes to Matt Kemp and Jeremy Bentley (both of the hatted Restaurant Balzac) and they've brought a nice European flavour to this stretch of Surry Hills. Like the variety of ornate and odd-shaped mirrors that adorn the wall, a few different styles are mixed in together, and it somehow all elegantly works out.

The Devonshire, 204 Devonshire St, Surry Hills NSW (02) 9698 9427, www.thedevonshire.com.au. You can follow The Devonshire on Twitter or become a fan on Facebook

Special scoops

2011-01-25T00:20:00.000+11:00

Dog-eared novels aside, the best summer reading right now seems to be the specials board at Gelato Messina in Darlinghurst. It's shot through with humour, surprises and unexpected characters – the King even makes a cameo in Elvis The Fat Years: his oversized waistline and appetite inspires a fatty mash-up of peanut butter gelato with banana jam and fried brioche.

Hello Sailor syncs pink grapefruit with aperol sorbet while Danny Two Times is a double-hit of citrus: yoghurt and marmalade gelato paired with flourless orange & poppy seed cake. Names aside, other flavours have attention-seeking factors, too.

When I was accidentally within ice-cream-buying distance of Gelato Messina on the weekend, I cursed myself for mistiming my visit – I'd just finished a filling breakfast at The Falconer and had zero stomach room for anything else. But it turns out that you can't actually walk past Messina without requesting at least one scoop – it's a universal law (or at least one that reigns strongly on that stretch of Victoria Road).

So after a long peer at the display case, I had the Cardamom with Apricot Puree – the lively, bracing spice and the jammy-sweet fruit making the greed worthwhile.

And, because it's hard to minimise any order at this gelato parlour, I even had a Tiny Cone topped with Raspberry and Rosewater as a chaser. It's a light, unexpected and summer-perfect flavour, the kind that evokes a mood-lifting hum as you walk the streets, the rhythm of footsteps punctuated by cone-finishing bites.

As for the next installment of Gelato Messina specials – I imagine that will probably be must-read material, too.

Gelato Messina, Shop 1/241 Victoria St, Darlinghurst NSW (02) 8354 1223, www.gelatomessina.com.au. You can also get 'Flavour Alerts' by following Gelato Messina on Twitter or Facebook.

Little Brekkies, A Little On The Side

2011-01-19T00:28:00.002+11:00

Sometimes deciding what you'd like to eat can lead to an endless loop of counter-arguments. How nice it'd be to just order everything on offer and sort it out according to whim and appetite.

With the "Little Brekkies" menu at A Little On The Side in Darlington, with half-serve portions from $5.50 to $9 each, we realised it'd actually be possible.

So we went in a group of four (making those early-morning portion-dividing calculations less painful on the brain) and asked for one of everything – creating a DIY breakfast degustation by accident.

With so many dishes, inevitably some outrank others, and my favourites were the Mint & Feta Toasted Tortilla Wrap ($7), Spiced Beans ($8), served with scrambled eggs and Turkish toast, Grilled Haloumi Roll ($5.50) and the Croissant French Toast ($8) which comes with spiced berry compote and instantly sparks the thought, "why have we never seen this before?" Croissant slices served French-toast-style – it's ridiculously genius. Who knew you could make French toast even more French and heart-clogging? It's really tasty, too, even though it's probably a nutritionist's very idea of stress.

If you follow in our menu-ordering path, be prepared to eat A LOT of scrambled eggs, as they seem to insert their way into almost every dish. Also, your skills at maxing out a table's ability to take many plates will be tested, too. There's a lot of plate-juggling and plate-consolidation needed to make everything fit.

It's always fun to have a multi-portion breakfast, though, and as our friend Chris says, it means your meal truly lives up to the cafe's title of A Little On The Side.

A Little On The Side, Corner of Boundary and Ivy Lane, Darlington, (02) 9698 7767

Not so Fast

2011-01-10T23:40:00.005+11:00

Despite its brand-new status, the year's start is always built-in with familiar features: well-intended resolutions (marked "Fragile" for their easy-to-break status); an amazing glimpse of what your life is like when it's not overrun by office hours – a phenomenon that's quickly eclipsed by back-to-work grumbles; and, of course, the beginning of Sydney Festival.

I like that our appetites are programmed into the guide, with Fast Festival Feasts being something you can reliably look forward to. We went to try what was on offer at Bistro Moncur, but even though a vegetarian option was advertised both in the program and online, and the fact I even rang ahead to check, like the worrywart that I am (and was reassured that, yes, a vego alternative would be available), it wasn't on offer at all when we got there.

So here's what made me glad we stuck around: the day's specials featured a Peach Raspberry Parfait, served with peppermint-poached peaches, shreds of young coconut and fresh berries. It was the kind of dessert that spells out summer – and the year's start – in an unfamiliar, bracing way.

Bistro Moncur, 116 Queen Street, Woollahra NSW (02) 9363 2519, www.woollahrahotel.com.au

Ms G's, Potts Point

2010-12-31T16:41:00.005+11:00

Just when the scorecard was already looking good for 2010, Ms G's comes along and bumps the average up even higher. This year, Sydney's been lucky to welcome so many brilliant newcomers (Berta, Duke Bistro, Bloodwood, Porteno, to name some of the fresh blood) and this place ends 2010 on a pretty dizzy note.

Ms G's re-teams Dan Hong and Jowett Yu from Lotus and it crackles with a no-introduction-necessary energy, judging from the crowded state of the four-level restaurant on the Monday just after it opened. While everyone's attention was redirected by end-of-year festivities, this place still managed to hit breakneck speed and it's no-brainer easy to work out why.

There's a fun, wiseguy wit to Ms G's – its whipsmart take on Asian cuisine seems summed up by its name alone: a lively wordplay that embraces the much-maligned monosodium glutamate additive that dogs Asian cooking. And sure, the last time I saw a Maggi bottle was when I was a kid, dousing it on rice to pathetically give it some lazy flavour; I never thought its next appearance would be at a restaurant run by renowned chefs.

Like a seamlessly brilliant hip hop track though, Ms G's samples from unlikely places (heirloom tomato is partnered with crispy tofu and Thai basil; high-pedigree dining meets bubble-tea-inspired cocktails) to refashion items into new works full of zip and unexpected catchiness.

One highlight is the Stoner's Delight ($12), an ode to pothead appetites that would win over the most zero-tolerance anti-drug fogey. Passionfruit marshmallow and Mars-Bar-style peanut brittle and chocolate is teamed with an impossibly delicious scoop of caramelised banana ice cream. This would be so very hard to just say "no" to.

Ms G's proves dining can be a crack-up and still be perceptive, imaginative and incredibly clever. Its good-humoured nature even extends to the decor, where the toilets are papered in unironic recipes from the 1970s.

The closest thing I could come to a complaint is that the menu is so extensive that it's impossible to narrow down what you want (especially dessert-wise, where you want ownership over every item on offer, even though your stomach's limits sadly won't allow that to happen). And that isn't even a bad thing. The vego options are good, too.

Like the album that sneaks in at the tail-end of the year and forces everyone to reshuffle their Best Of lists (2010's candidate = Kanye), Ms G's is that last-minute surprise that makes staying alert worth it.

Ms G's, 155 Victoria St, Potts Point, (02) 8313 1000, www.merivale.com/#/msgs/msgs. You can also follow chefs Dan Hong and Jowett Yu on Twitter, where they make frequent use of their catchphrase, "Balls deep".

Things we ate in Tokyo

2010-12-31T14:34:00.003+11:00

Flower-shaped monaka from Toraya

Tabi Bagel in Tokyo doesn't have a closing hour. The shop opens at 7am and the doors shut once the last bagel is sold. Sometimes this happens in just one whirlwind hour, as I learnt through Justine. To visit this tiny bakery, you may have to play tough with the snooze button.

The earlybird-commitment is worth it, though – these bagels are a 200-yen exchange of fresh-baked awesomeness. After making the poor owner recount every flavour on display (followed by our amnesiac recall and "what's this one again?" re-questioning), I had Olive and Rosemary (covertly loaded with green olives and herbs inside: so bite-worthy and delicious), Multi-Spice (seeded with cumin, fennel and other earthy jolts) and Orange Peel (crinkly citrus yum). Will's haul included one with sesame bean paste, the kind usually sweetly jammed inside fish-shaped taiyaki treats.

I asked the owner how Japanese bagels are different and he said they weren't really – with one neighbourhood-inspired distinction. Yanaka, where the shop is located, has a more elderly population – you see lots of olds zipping along on bikes as you walk the streets and laneways – so he makes sure to keep his produce soft, so his customers can chew the bagels without a problem.

The locals seem to reward his thoughtfulness. Sam went visiting some weeks after we dropped by and the owner still remembered us. I guess not many foreigners stop by? Funny, when a place remains mainly tourist-undiscovered and thrives on local-only endorsement, that only makes you want to visit it even more.

Tabi Bagel, 2-5-14, Yanaka, Taito-ku, Tokyo. Yanaka is a fascinating place, left unruined by wartime air raids and with traditional wood houses and temples still intact – it's one of the few "old" places left in the city. If you walk a bit further, you can visit the SCAI The Bathhouse gallery, and stroll onwards to the peaceful Yanaka Cemetery.

"He turned out our very best meal in Tokyo, and (at second glance) I think he did it using a couple of deluxe camping stoves."

When I read this gold-star endorsement from Heidi Swanson on her 101 Cookbooks blog, I added the eatery to my must-visit list.

The place is Asahi, a restaurant that only has enough room for three tables and is run by a longtime baker, Koichi Nakajima, who now specialises in a type of vegan hand-made soba found nowhere else in the city.

We had warm bowls of nori-topped noodles and shared a big platter of grilled vegetables, tofu and pickles – the flavours honest and extracted without show or fuss. We sat in a room where everything was carved out of timber and the whole meal itself had a hand-crafted and one-of-a-kind feel. A pot of soba tea was a calmative end-note to the night.

Asahi, 4-32-26 Kitazawa, Setagaya-ku, (03) 3485-7785. It's hidden on a quiet side street and Japanese addresses are notoriously tricky. Most taxis have a GPS, so we took a cab instead of the "end up insanely lost" option. It's closed on Tuesdays and the third Monday of the month.

I think it took about three footsteps before Eliza Sarlos, Will and I all instantly fell in love with Vacant. An ultra-cool shop/gallery/venue, it also houses Vacanteen, which serves vegan food (sample menu items: the endearingly-titled "Landscape Plate" and "Plant Plate").

Vacant is run by a group of friends and everything feels like it was filtered by the kind of personal endorsement that determines a mixtape. On display are zines, design books and cool odds-and-ends (including large rubber stamps of old-school American diners); it also has a must-attend calendar (we were too early for a David Byrne exhibition and a Sharon Van Etten gig, alas). Eli wants to know how to relocate Vacant to Sydney. Before that miracle happens, you can visit it at its current (and, sadly, only) address.

Vacant, 1F 3-20-13 Jingumae, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo, 03 6459 2962, www.n0idea.com/vacant

An izakaya that serves Ice Cream Bread – that sells itself. Teyandei is also a fine budget-friendly pick, according to The Guardian, although by the end of the night, we were so full and food-coma-ish, I couldn't honestly account for the state of my wallet.

Teyandei specialises in Okinawan cuisine, although Grace's regional favourite, sea grapes, sadly wasn't on offer the night we visited. We did have Burdock Chips that were served like long, calligraphic scrawls that you can munch and Tofu in Hot Sesame Oil; and while I'm not sure how genuinely Japanese Tomato Pudding, Worcester Fried Noodles and Steamed Chicken with Welsh Onion Sauce are, these dishes all ended up on our table, too.

The crowdpulling item at Teyandei, though, is the ice cream bread, a fact backed up by the waiter repeated hailing it as its "number one, number one!" dish once we ordered it. According to Grace, the kitchen stuffs a baguette with deep-frozen ice cream and fries it. Each serve comes as an individual slice and we were told to eat it with one hand (a handy mess-limiting instruction). The baguette is all buttery and toasty and the ice-cream filling creamy and perfect. It turns out that an ice cream sandwich can be outclassed.

Teyandei has several branches in Tokyo. We went to the one at 8-19 Sakuragaoka-cho, Shibuya-ku. It's really tricky to find, and does not look like a restaurant from the outside. I recommend hailing a GPS-enabled cab. For more details, call 03 3462 6411.

Toraya has been making traditional confectionery for centuries – the Imperial family has been enjoying its crafted sweets since the 1500s. On display at its all-white, minimalist Midtown branch are beautiful-looking monaka (wafers shaped like cherry blossoms or chrysanthemums enclosing an azuki bean jam), wagashi that resemble museum-display fruit, and pretty slabs of graphic yokan jelly. Many of these treats are meant to be served with tea – conveniently, a Toraya salon serving select brews is only a few footsteps away from this confectionery boutique.

I found out about Toraya through Justine, who runs the wonderful Upon A Fold blog and shop. You need to see her amazing pictures to grasp how elegant this gallery-like store is.

Toraya is a good spot for picking up some sophisticated-looking souvenirs. You may need a deep unconditional love of azuki bean to enjoy the confectionery, as many of the sweets centre around that main ingredient. Personally, I'm not the greatest fan of that sticky-sweet flavour, but the boutique also offers some beautiful stationery, exhibition displays and the nearby tearoom offers an intriguing range of Japanese beverages.

Located in the Tokyo Midtown complex, Toraya also allows you to briefly teleport to Paris, as it's within browsing distance of excellent outlets for the Maison Kayser bakery (for a local treat, I had the yuzu bread) and chocolatier JP Hevin. We stocked up on the latter's macarons, taking the box back to our hotel to enjoy with a complimentary jasmine brew (I love that accommodation in Japan always has the tea-making aspect covered).

Toraya, Tokyo Midtown Galleria B1, 9-7-4 Akasaka, Minato, Tokyo. It is also a short walking distance to 21_21 Design Sight gallery, a great art space that's co-directed by Issey Miyake and designed by Tadao Ando.

The Studio Ghibli Museum is worth jumping up and down over, but its Straw Hat Cafe also inspires kid-like delight.

The menu includes items such as Breaded Pork Cutlet Sandwich For The Hungry Stomach and Looking Up At a Clear Blue Sky in the Field Cream Soda.

I was banking on a Fruit Sandwich of Your Dreams, but sadly, the hope-dashing reality was that the kitchen had run out. So I opted for the Straw Hat Omelette Filled With Fried Rice, which was beyond consoling as a second choice – it was entirely awesome. It is shaped like a three-dimensional straw hat and the tomato-sauce portion comes in a heart-like drizzle.

You can also order a Straw Hat Cappucino and all the drinks are served with straws made from, yes, actual straw.

The museum itself is amazing – it has cartoony architectural features, hand-crank animations, zoetropes that blur into life like magic and detailed replicas of a filmmaker's room, right down to the worn-out reference books, first-draft sketches and beverages used for company. There's also a cinema with a train car as a projectionist's booth and a Cat Bus that sadly only admits school-aged kids (it isn't a working vehicle but a giant soft toy that children jump all over, tossing Dust Bunny toys out the bus windows for sport).

Until May 2011, the Studio Ghibli cinema will be screening Mr. Dough and the Egg Princess, which is inspired by a traditional European folk story about a loaf of bread that runs away. The short film is accompanied by an exhibition that features director Hayao Miyazaki's illustrations, an array of bread-making tools and ingredients, and flour-grinding demonstrations where kids eagerly make use of a traditional stone wheel.

Studio Ghibli Museum, 1-1-83 Simorenjaku, Mitaka-shi, Tokyo. Limited tickets are available for each day and it's best if Australian visitors buy them here.

Hattifnatt pics by Ebony Bizys, who ultra-kindly let me use them here

When heading to Japan's capital, one must-pack item is the Hello Sandwich guide. Created by the ultra-Tokyo-savvy Ebony Bizys, this zine was our GPS throughout the streetways and metro lines, leading us to local gems of all sizes (from tiny stores full of beautiful clutter to department store wonderlands like the mega-stylish Opening Ceremony). It's as great as having a good friend steering you through their favourite neighbourhoods.

One of my most-loved discoveries through Ebony had to be Hattifnatt Cafe, which you may have seen in her Tokyo Guide and her story for Frankie magazine's Spaces. There are two branches and the original is in Koenji, a former electronics store turned into a treehouse cafe. The entrance is kid-sized, so duck your head as you enter. As you climb into the cubby-like levels, you're greeted with hyper-bright murals of picturebook-like birds, flowers and woodland creatures. It feels like you're about to have lunch on the set of Playschool or Sesame Street.

The menu is illustrated with cute drawings (mugs of frothy beers, colourful drink bottles) and covered in a stitched blanket. When the cafe is busy, you order via the intercom, quoting the letter on your giant spoon ("This lunch is brought to you by the letter 'E'?") so the staff can locate you.

I'd been set on the Avocado Taco Rice, ever since reading about it in Ebony's zine in May, and it was worth the drumroll anticipation. (Ebony kindly helped me broker a vegetarian-friendly version with the staff, as it usually is stuffed with meat).

For an extra dose of tweeness, you can visit the Too Ticki stationery/homewares shop next door, which is run by the same people. It's display-stacked with crafty goods like hand-carved stamps and patchwork purses.

While the picture-cute coffee had been a drawcard, the Koenji branch of Hattifnatt wasn't offering any on the day we were there. It seems to be more of a specialty for the equally cosy Kichijoji outpost.

Hattifnatt Cafe, 2-18-10 Koenji kita, Suginami-ku. You can read more about it in Ebony's indispensable Hello Sandwich Tokyo Guide and her contribution to Frankie magazine's Spaces.

Speaking of Hello Sandwich, it was one of many reading essentials that helped me finetune my Tokyo plans. Other helpful resources include Justine's Tokyo posts on her wonderful blog (I regret not having had enough time to try this recommendation: "A trip to Tokyo is worth it just to experience the tea-making service at Ori Higashiya’s Sabo"); the brilliant Tokyo By Tokyo, compiled by Claska, with creative locals detailing their favourites under great categories such as "Unique Offices Supporting The Art Scene From The Shadows", "Shops to Titillate An 8-bit Heart" and "The Three Most Splendidly Lavish Toilets In Tokyo". It was through this book that I found out about Tabi Bagel and Teyandei; iPhone-reliant travellers should know that it's been freshly turned into an app. Eloise Rapp's My Tokyo features lots of great shops (including a store that specialises entirely in cute and highly wearable socks). Also check out Chocolate & Zucchini's Japan highlights (Clotilde's right, railway bentos are awesome) and recommendations from ii-ne-kore's Bree Claffey and other Japan-savvy folk. Lo-Fi Tokyo also directed us to plenty of brilliant spots. I feel really lucky that the internet has made trip-planning so much more personal and particular and that you no longer need to rely on a few major travel guides to determine how your holiday will turn out.

Holiday season

2010-12-25T16:40:00.002+11:00

Merry Christmas!

I hope your holidays are full of yums, none-too-painful food comas and that the company is good (or if the company = a compulsory obligation rather than mutually enjoyable, then fingers crossed that the food, drink and present-blitz makes it a little easier to put on that poker face).

Right now, the air is seasoned with roasting rosemary and garlic, Will's lamb and my vegies, but later on we're going to have these Egg Nog, Christmas Pudding and Ginger Breadless Men pralines from Kakawa.

I hope there's lots to sweeten your break. Happy holidays.

Shop 5, 147 William St (a few blocks from the Darlinghurst Rd end), Darlinghurst, (02) 9331 8818, www.kakawachocolates.com.au.

Things we ate in Kyoto

2010-12-25T15:01:00.001+11:00

For any Twitter-weary people out there, here's a case for the defence: it helps you find amazing places to visit overseas.

During a research-binge on where to eat in Japan, I posted this throwaway tweet:

"In Japan, ham is considered a vegetable" -> OK, my attempt to find good vego-friendly places to dine at in Osaka, Kyoto will be tricky...

It was just a momentary observation, with zero expectation for a response; so it was a surprise when the ultra-knowledgable Justin Norrie tweeted back two generous, trip-worthy tips.

He suggested I buy Time Out Kyoto for recommendations because the editor is a vegetarian; this is how I find out about Tamaki, which was Will's far-and-above favourite of all the places we dined in Japan.

Before we even ate a single thing at Tamaki, though, we were stunned by how gorgeous this machiya restaurant was – everything right down to the patterned paper folded around our chopsticks was considered and beautiful. I wondered if the elegant Wa-style fabrics adorning everything (even the chair legs!) were a reference to the fact this 19th-century timber building used to be a kimono merchant’s house.

The food was inflected with chef Hiroyuki Aoike's background in classic French cuisine (green tea brulée, chocolate gateau), and even the simplest things (a fruit salad with plain jelly, a lychee tea) inspired moment-savouring.

We had the lunch menu but I would love to have tried the kaiseki set that is on offer at night.

Tamaki, 472-1 Kinbuki-cho, Ryogaemachi Dori, Nijo-sagaru, Nakagyo-ku, Kyoto. This place was impossible to find, and we spent 40 minutes looking for it, all while being never more than two minutes' walk away. Even local passers-by were stumped. Lesson learnt: if lost, always ask a shop employee as their knowledge of nearby businesses is pretty solid. From Karasuma Oike, after passing the Manga Museum, it's a block left and then a block-and-a-bit right, but ring ahead, especially if you want a vegetarian meal, and get better instructions when booking on 075 213 4177. And look at the website, so you can blaze the shopfront into memory; it'll make the "found it!" moment more satisfying.

Justin also tipped me off about Kanga-An: "If you're prepared to drop Y5000 for lunch or Y9000 for dinner, you should try this place. It's special. I'm not vegetarian, but friends who are agree it's an unforgettable experience."

I know a word like "unforgettable" can often be used so disposably, so it gets unloosened from any sense of grandness or memory-fusing significance, but in the case of this restaurant, it is entirely, unmistakably resonant: this is a meal you'll always remember.

Built in the 17th century on the request of retired Emperor Go Mizunoo, Kanga-An is a temple that serves fucha ryori, "a Chinese-influenced vegetarian food that's more flamboyant than shojin ryori, its better-known Zen cousin", according to Japan Times.

Not only that, it is so visually exquisite that it's hard to believe. The meal started with traditional Japanese sweets and powdered green tea – we thought that was nicely presented, but that was blitzed by the two following courses, which were served on platters with rock gardens intact. I'd never had a meal that came with its own landscaping before, but this was the level of eye-dazzling showmanship on offer.

There was food camouflaged by bamboo leaves, petal-shaped lotus root, edible mini-baskets woven from konbu, colour-vivid tempura flowers, plums adorned with gold leaf, rainbow-striped tofu, pattern-cut pumpkin shells and even chestnut "husks" – the spikes cleverly made from short, stiff strands of green tea noodles (to the point of such authenticity that diners don't realise the dish is edible).

Even after the first six courses were brought out, all the food remained untouched by chopsticks because we were so busy trying to document everything with our cameras. And, of course, it wasn't all about visual wizardry – some of the least photogenic dishes were the most exquisite, especially the pickled ume (plum) tempura served in a Japanese pepper/ginger soup.

Not every single dish melted your mind, but the 14-course dinner was such a lottery of flavour and colour that it was worth every yen spent. The building is also quite memorable – you dine in your own room, which overlooks a traditional garden carefully illuminated with lanterns. Even washing your hands involves a certain level of water-tipping ceremony. Kanga-An is the dictionary definition of unforgettable.

Kanga-An, 278 Karasuma Dori, Kuramaguchi Higashi Iru, Kita-ku, Kyoto, (075) 256-2480. You have to book ahead though. The best instructions on how to get there can be found here (scroll to the end for details).

Opera Kitchen, Sydney

2010-12-18T14:39:00.015+11:00

Yes, even the opening of Opera Kitchen was pushed back because of Oprah Winfrey. It's amazing that the powerhouse talk-show host managed to make the whole country hit the pause button, but now that she's left Australia, you can head down to lower concourse of the Opera House and check out this new venture.

Located in the canteen area past Opera Bar, it features second outlets for Charlie & Co., Misschu, Cloudy Bay Fish Co, as well as new eateries, such as Kenji Nishinakagawa's sushi joint, and Becasse Bakery, the latest project for the incredible overachievers at Becasse (this is the third business that Justin and Georgia North have opened this year, in addition to running Plan B and their two-hatted signature restaurant).

Circular Quay, being the tourist-magnet that it is, can suffer from a build-up of expensive, not-so-great dining choices; Opera Bar is one of the few affordable gems in the area, but at certain times (pre-theatre; Saturday afternoons when Fate plays a game of "release the ~~hounds~~ wedding parties!"), it can be a restaurant-scanning headache trying to find a free table.

So this makes the introduction of Opera Kitchen all the more welcome.

Becasse Bakery is the most budget-friendly of all the options: the most expensive item on the menu is the Toasted Croque Monsieur ($14). This place is also worth singling out because the pastries – such as the Vanilla Bean and Passionfruit Cheesecake ($6) – are ace. While friands usually taste like novelty-shaped bricks at many cafes, the Pistachio & Raspberry Friand ($7) is a finely-pitched treat: not overpowering, but the ingredients are freshly felt in each bite.

As you can guess, the menu is mostly French-influenced (there are Strawberry Sables, Pate Au Choux Buns, Toasted Brioche), although you can also order the delightful-sounding Bolivian Chocolate Petit Pot ($8). Or pretend to be nutritious and get the Becasse Bakery Granola & Yogurt ($8). When I revisit, my first orders will be for the Warm Goat's Cheese & Caramelised Onion Flat Bread ($12) and Banana & Salted Peanut Brittle Tartlet ($8).

As to Opera Kitchen's other offerings, it's great to see alternative locations for favourites such as Charlie & Co. and Misschu. Sure, the prices are markedly higher than at the original eateries ($21.50 for a Charlie & Co. burger that's $14 at the Westfield branch; $12 rice paper rolls that usually cost $6 at the Darlinghurst Miss Chu), but you're basically paying an eyeball tax for the famed harbour view and, besides, rent for venues next to the most famous building in Australia would not be cheap. And you're dining at Circular Quay – eating well and (mostly) meeting your budget, enjoying the long hours of sundazed light. (Or ordering everything takeaway and sitting in the park instead.) And it's nice to have somewhere you can direct tourists to, without feeling like they'll be (too) rorted.

You could do so much worse.

Opera Kitchen, Lower Concourse, Opera House, Circular Quay, operakitchen.com.au