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.

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