Concrete blonde

I have been lured to The Cross on a Sunday for one very good reason; Sunday Roast and I have it on good authority that Concrete Blonde is the place to go.

This place is located on Bayswater road in the same complex as Hugo’s. There is a lovely canopied outdoor seating area, and lounge seats on which to enjoy a pre-dinner (or lunch) drink in the afternoon sun. I assume this place is named after the U.S. rock group of the same name, though the name has been interpreted literally in the interesting glass door to the toilet, which contains patterns and text made of concrete set in the glass. The fit-out feels expensive, but the tone of the restaurant is quite casual.

After the parents, Cueball and I settle into our seats, I spy the kitchen. It is open, and you can see the chefs flitting back and forth, that bit is pretty standard. But the wood-fire spit and free-standing circular grills sure aren’t! Unfortunately there isn’t anything on the spit today, but our waitress informs us that last night there was a special of spit-roasted suckling pig. If that isn’t the best combination of food related words I have heard in a while. Given that the pig understandably sold out last night I go for the grass-fed Tasmanian roast beef with all the traditional trimmings. Think buttery beans and carrots, Yorkshire pudding, potatoes and jus served alongside a thick cut of just-medium beef. Oh it is heaven, absolute heaven. Of course I managed to squeeze in an entrée first; ham hock terrine with sourdough toast, perfectly accompanied by a large glass of chardonnay (Canobolas-Smith, Orange 2006). Pinot noir (Explorer by Surveyor Thomson) with the beef, from Central Otago duh (seriously who isn’t on the Otago bandwagon yet?).

Though the beef leaves me absolutely stuffed I am completely suckered in by the warm lemon pudding with vanilla bean ice-cream. It is spongy on top, and gooey inside. Others on the table go for honeycomb parfait and a valrhona chocolate terrine with raspberries and chocolate soil. Parfait, well everybody loves parfait, and for those chocaholics out there the valrhona is everything you need and want.

For $48, the Sunday lunch menu on offer at Concrete Blonde is more than a bargain, I am so stuffed I actually walk home to avoid my stomach bursting. That roast beef is the best I have had at any restaurant, and if they have the suckling pig on again God help anyone who prevents me from getting a reservation!

 http://www.concreteblonderestaurant.com.au/

Hemmingway’s

Why must summer end? I have only been to the beach, erm…three times this summer. That is practically un-Australian! The Jet-Setter states that a visit to the beach for a dip followed by cocktails is in order, and I couldn’t agree more. The day selected turns out to be a real scorcher, perfect for a swim. However post 6 pm it turns cool very fast. After delicately inserting a toe into the surf and retracting it with a scream of ‘it’s cold!’ we skip the dip and go straight for the drinks.

Hemmingway’s has been our coffee and drinks haunt in Manly all summer; the Jet-Setter is a massive fan of the bearded wonder’s short stories. So an opportunity to try their dinner menu is an exciting prospect to both of us. The menus theme in the downstairs bar is presented as ‘school meals made adult and fun’ so there are things like chicken nuggets and chips and fish fingers. So what awaits us in the restaurant upstairs? Awkward staff members for one thing.

After being assured downstairs that there is space for two in the restaurant, we reach the top of the stairs to find two bemused floor staff without a spare table. After a really weird conversation in which I felt like we were speaking a different language to the waiters we decide to wait downstairs until there is a table available. Once we get a table upstairs and pursue the menu we opt for:

‘Peppers’; padron peppers, bacon, feta, currants

‘Gin and tonic’; poached salmon, gin jelly, cucumber puree, salmon roe

‘Kiev’; black garlic, sweet corn, chicken

‘Leaves’; rocket, parmesan, balsamic

The ‘peppers’ is not much special, essentially peppers covered in cheese. The portion is decent enough, though you do get the odd really hot one so choose carefully. ‘Gin and tonic’ is beautifully presented, the jelly is lovely and fragrant and the salmon is beautifully cooked. The one thing this dish really needs is salt to lift the flavours to the next level. By far the best dish is ‘Kiev’, the chicken is served in a lovely crispy, salty ball with smears of smoky black garlic and sweet corn that I end up wiping off the plate with my fingers.

In the end the meal was nice, but I have been to nicer restaurants for less. The restaurant feels a little grungy, when I was expecting a bit more of a colonial, manly (oooooh fun with puns) opulence. Having my meal presided over by a portrait of a shirtless Hemmingway is a tad odd, though not unpleasant. I’ll be back for the coffee and snacks downstairs.   

http://www.hemingwaysmanly.com.au/_.html