I have wanted to try Bar H since my sister (The Chef) helped a colleague put on a special dinner event here. But it is one of those places that kept getting pushed aside. It wasn't until a friend, whom I shall call the Jet-setter (super-secret code name) landed back in Oz and suggested it that I finally managed to drag myself in.
Bar H is just a short walk from central, sitting halfway up a street that after the usual 9-5 seems completely closed bar another little eatery on the adjacent corner that looks quite cute. All that marks the restaurant is a large H. Stepping over the threshold you forget you are in Sydney. Everything is dark, brooding colours broken up with warm woods and intricate graffiti art. On the left there are floor to ceiling windows lined by a banquette, a scattering of tables and wine bottles covering the wall. On the right is the open kitchen and a bar at which to perch and watch the goings-on. My partner (lets call him Cueball) has diligently selected a spot in the booths overlooking the kitchen.
As soon as I plop myself down I am offered the happy hour drinks menu (6-7pm, Tues-Fri); beer $5, wine $5.50, cocktails $10. I opt for a Gin Chi which is described as 'a zesty, tart, fresh little number', prescribed for a tough day that has left you 'out of whack'. It is just what I need after getting bogged down in journal articles at work. The staff are incredibly on the ball. Whenever a glass is empty (alcoholic or otherwise) it is topped up. It is relaxing to know that if we decided we wanted something urgently (wine, food, anti-venom) assistance was at hand. In fact this joint is the perfect place to catch up with friends you have not seen in a while, because nothing required much thought or effort. The wine list is a fantastic mix of local, French and Italian wines ranging from $45-$110. As the Jet-setter persues the list she insists we support the local wine-makers. I couldn't agree more, they do a bang-up job. To drink the boys go for Tiger beer, the ladies go for Ocean Eight Pinot Gris 2010, Mornington Perninsula.
When Mr. Muscles rocks up we quickly list the items we want. A plate of mixed moonlight en suface (beautiful little gems) and Claire de Lune oysters, steamed pork wontons, sashimi of black kingfish, and braised beef short rib to start. The wontons come sitting in a pool of beautiful spicy/sweet broth that tempts all of us to lift the bowl and slurp it up. We refrain. The sashimi of black kingfish is cut thinly and dressed in a tart, citrus dressing cut through with meaty shitake mushrooms. The beef shin is oh-so-tender, and the addition of peppery sesame leaves is something I haven't seen before. Love.The dishes come out one at a time due to space constraints at the table, but if you politely ask for two of the dishes at the same time the kitchen and floor staff are more than happy to oblige.
For mains we go; caramelised pork belly with fennel and mint, which is oh-my-god-so-good-want-more-so-fat-no (pork belly is my death row meal) and steamed jemfish. The flavours of the steamed jemfish are beautiful but the fish is served as a steak cut not a fillet. I have no problems with bones in fish (or heads and tails on fish) and I want to stab people with a fork who whinge and whine if they find a single bone. It is fresh fish, there may be bones. If you want a guarantee of no bones, go eat the processed muck. The only issue I have in this context is that given the atmospheric lighting of the restaurant it is hard to make sure you have removed all the bones before you take a gobfull.
Despite the fact that I am pretty full I can't pass up dessert of ginger custard. It is refreshing and light, the lime syrup adding the bit of sweetness needed to compliment the almost savoury custard. The jet-setter goes for sticky rice and red bean doughnuts which are all crispy and sugary goodness served with star anise ice cream which has a subtle smoky flavour rather than HI I'M LICORICE flavour (and I hate both star anise and licorice). Mr. Muscles opted for in-house made sorbet which had perfect texture and flavour.
I suppose the only problem of share dining is when there is that last skerric left everyone is too polite to just eat the goddamn thing. The other problem is it is so tasty that YOU want the last bit, but you feel bound by that crap called social protocol. That's the mark of a good meal. For the amount of food we ate, the quantity of beverages consumed and the top service we received the $70 price tag is spot-on. I'm keen to go back.
http://www.barhsurryhills.com/
Saturday 24 September 2011
Friday 23 September 2011
Ms G's
I rarely venture anywhere near The Cross.
Potts Point tends to get the same treatment by association. I realise it is becoming funkified and Time Out magazine regularly wets their panties over the latest brunch spot, but I can't convince myself that I am not smelling the remnants of the most recent Saturday night.
Ms G's however has a certain kind of magic that keeps luring me back. Sure it is full of young, hip, stylish creatures, and on Friday/Saturday nights it can be noisy and jostling, but the food. Oh the food.
Boozy Sunday lunch is one of my favourite pastimes. Especially when it is sunny. So an invitation to join a teacher and a Norwegian at Ms G's to partake of this weekly ritual could not be passed up. We were greeted with a bar/restaurant fit-out that has a feel of someone living inside some kind of grand wooden crate decorated with odd nick-naks picked up at garage sales. The restaurant is spread over three levels, with the top floor being dedicated to one (of two) bar. The entire back wall is a bay window that overlooks a small, very leafy garden and allows the light from the afternoon sun to come pouring in. The staff are dressed casually and are very helpful and attentive. The overall feel of the place is relaxed. You do not feel you have to act a certain way, or dress specially. Just what you want on a Sunday.
There are booths, separate tables, and one long communal table that has an amazing view of the bridge and city. We opt to sit on the lower ground floor. Close to the kitchen and near the windows. It is quieter than I expected. There are only four or five other tables in the restaurant as we take our seats. We opt to go for a bottle of Pinot Gris from Central Otago, New Zealand rather than cocktails. The wine list has a lovely selection with the majority being Australian and New Zealand ranging from $40-$90. There is a smattering of European wines for added interest.
Browsing through the menu I want to order everything. It all sounds lip-smackingly good. I need to be roped in by The Teacher to stop me ordering too much. The staff are very helpful in suggesting both the chef and customer favourites. So in the end we plumb for mini báhn mì with pork belly, Ms G's grilled corn on the cob with parmesan and Vietnamese steak tartare to start.
The báhn mì/sliders/mini burgers are tasty. The pork is tender and has a nice slash of crackling across the top. The corn on the cob is quite simply THE BEST CORN I HAVE EVER EATEN. Capitalisation necessary. The half cobs come coated with the prefect amount of peri peri (harissa perhaps?) mayo-creamy goodness, stacked sky high with finely grated parmesan. There is so much parmesan and it is so lightly coloured that I at first thought it was coconut (hmmmm too much wine at this point?). Use your fingers to scoop the fantastic left-overs of parmesan and sauce that others leave behind on the plate. Disgusted looks may follow. Ignore them.
I thought that was it. Ms G's had peaked. How wrong I was.
The steak tartare is closely modelled on the traditional french version. The classic involves a perfect steak diced to a fine mice, combined with vegetables, herbs and condiments, then served with a raw egg yolk and some form of crouton/baguette. Ms G's have kept the steak and the egg but added fish sauce, chilli, coriander, fried shallots and, joy of joys, prawn crackers in place of bread. You know the prawn crackers you get at the local chinese? Yeah, now you're with me. The combination of the sweet, tangy, spicy flavours with the cooling, fresh texture of the steak is perfection. It is at present my favourite dish. I dream about it. I go to other restaurants and wish it were on the menu. I ordered a second plate of it as soon as I took my first bite.
That accompanied Jow's sweet and sour lamb ribs and braised wagyu beef shin 'Pho style'. The lamb is sticky, limey goodness. And given the presentation you are allowed to use your hands and hoik into it. The beef shin is so tender it falls apart as you look at it. It comes piled high with a variety of fresh, leafy herbs that add a delightful crunch to this dish. The Pho broth is warming, and the flavour lingers on the palate. You can't help going back for more and more, social protocol be damned.
Sitting back and assessing the damage I realise I have made a rookie error; I didn't leave space for desert! I stare dejectedly at the 'Stoner's Delight', on the next table over. A combination of doughnut ice cream, chocolate rice bubble, pretzel, peanut brittle and marshmallow it looks fantastifilicious (new word). But dear readers, I am dedicated to the cause. I had 'glee' written all over my face when this dessert was dropped off at our table. This dessert has everything. The peanut brittle and pretzel are mixed together with molten caramel. The choc-rice crispies take me back to my childhood and the light, citrus marshmallows cut through the richness. It is a beauty of a desert. No pretence, just everything you love about junk-food movie nights on a plate (but a bit fancy).
I wander home to pass out on the couch, full as a goog. I escaped paying only $70 (including tip) and can't wait to go back again.
http://www.merivale.com/#/msgs/msgs
Potts Point tends to get the same treatment by association. I realise it is becoming funkified and Time Out magazine regularly wets their panties over the latest brunch spot, but I can't convince myself that I am not smelling the remnants of the most recent Saturday night.
Ms G's however has a certain kind of magic that keeps luring me back. Sure it is full of young, hip, stylish creatures, and on Friday/Saturday nights it can be noisy and jostling, but the food. Oh the food.
Boozy Sunday lunch is one of my favourite pastimes. Especially when it is sunny. So an invitation to join a teacher and a Norwegian at Ms G's to partake of this weekly ritual could not be passed up. We were greeted with a bar/restaurant fit-out that has a feel of someone living inside some kind of grand wooden crate decorated with odd nick-naks picked up at garage sales. The restaurant is spread over three levels, with the top floor being dedicated to one (of two) bar. The entire back wall is a bay window that overlooks a small, very leafy garden and allows the light from the afternoon sun to come pouring in. The staff are dressed casually and are very helpful and attentive. The overall feel of the place is relaxed. You do not feel you have to act a certain way, or dress specially. Just what you want on a Sunday.
There are booths, separate tables, and one long communal table that has an amazing view of the bridge and city. We opt to sit on the lower ground floor. Close to the kitchen and near the windows. It is quieter than I expected. There are only four or five other tables in the restaurant as we take our seats. We opt to go for a bottle of Pinot Gris from Central Otago, New Zealand rather than cocktails. The wine list has a lovely selection with the majority being Australian and New Zealand ranging from $40-$90. There is a smattering of European wines for added interest.
Browsing through the menu I want to order everything. It all sounds lip-smackingly good. I need to be roped in by The Teacher to stop me ordering too much. The staff are very helpful in suggesting both the chef and customer favourites. So in the end we plumb for mini báhn mì with pork belly, Ms G's grilled corn on the cob with parmesan and Vietnamese steak tartare to start.
The báhn mì/sliders/mini burgers are tasty. The pork is tender and has a nice slash of crackling across the top. The corn on the cob is quite simply THE BEST CORN I HAVE EVER EATEN. Capitalisation necessary. The half cobs come coated with the prefect amount of peri peri (harissa perhaps?) mayo-creamy goodness, stacked sky high with finely grated parmesan. There is so much parmesan and it is so lightly coloured that I at first thought it was coconut (hmmmm too much wine at this point?). Use your fingers to scoop the fantastic left-overs of parmesan and sauce that others leave behind on the plate. Disgusted looks may follow. Ignore them.
I thought that was it. Ms G's had peaked. How wrong I was.
The steak tartare is closely modelled on the traditional french version. The classic involves a perfect steak diced to a fine mice, combined with vegetables, herbs and condiments, then served with a raw egg yolk and some form of crouton/baguette. Ms G's have kept the steak and the egg but added fish sauce, chilli, coriander, fried shallots and, joy of joys, prawn crackers in place of bread. You know the prawn crackers you get at the local chinese? Yeah, now you're with me. The combination of the sweet, tangy, spicy flavours with the cooling, fresh texture of the steak is perfection. It is at present my favourite dish. I dream about it. I go to other restaurants and wish it were on the menu. I ordered a second plate of it as soon as I took my first bite.
That accompanied Jow's sweet and sour lamb ribs and braised wagyu beef shin 'Pho style'. The lamb is sticky, limey goodness. And given the presentation you are allowed to use your hands and hoik into it. The beef shin is so tender it falls apart as you look at it. It comes piled high with a variety of fresh, leafy herbs that add a delightful crunch to this dish. The Pho broth is warming, and the flavour lingers on the palate. You can't help going back for more and more, social protocol be damned.
Sitting back and assessing the damage I realise I have made a rookie error; I didn't leave space for desert! I stare dejectedly at the 'Stoner's Delight', on the next table over. A combination of doughnut ice cream, chocolate rice bubble, pretzel, peanut brittle and marshmallow it looks fantastifilicious (new word). But dear readers, I am dedicated to the cause. I had 'glee' written all over my face when this dessert was dropped off at our table. This dessert has everything. The peanut brittle and pretzel are mixed together with molten caramel. The choc-rice crispies take me back to my childhood and the light, citrus marshmallows cut through the richness. It is a beauty of a desert. No pretence, just everything you love about junk-food movie nights on a plate (but a bit fancy).
I wander home to pass out on the couch, full as a goog. I escaped paying only $70 (including tip) and can't wait to go back again.
http://www.merivale.com/#/msgs/msgs
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