Descending the stairs of the CBD’s go-to French bistro Le Pub, this seemingly trendy, tardis-like, Parisian-style establishment opens up to reveal an odd mix of the after work drinks’ crowd, family diners, and girls’ night victims. Nonetheless, the tastefully decorated venue is quite comfortable, albeit a little raucous on the evening I dined.
Entering Sydney's latest fine dining hotspot made me feel more like James Bond than a food writer. Buzzing through the entrance, we're ushered through a passageway of the fully restored yet still antiquated Old Clare Hotel, and placed in an elevator bound for the floors above.
Raw, organic and vegan are three words that I tend to ignore in my day-to-day life, unless I’m at Pana Chocolate in Alexandria, where it’s literally impossible to do so. But why turn down an opportunity to broaden my horizons and satiate the appetite of my vegan best friend?
After hearing whispers about The Bach Eatery, I thought I’d pop down one Sunday evening, and see for myself what the hype surrounding ‘New Zealand cuisine’ was all about. The predictably trendy interior was actually very welcoming, and sitting at a high table to the side of the restaurant gave an almost ‘diner style’ vibe, something right up my alley.
What type of person would pass up the opportunity to ingest copious amounts of vodka, wine and caviar whilst listening to Dan Aykroyd ramble on about the significance of Crystal Skulls and how they somehow relate to large-scale quantities of vodka and en masse marketing techniques?
Restaurant in an abandoned train? Rave in a semi trailer? How about a café in a shipping container? Sure, why not… add it to the list of weird shit I never thought I’d see.
Ushering in Sydney’s growing obsession with craft beers, Sydney’s annual Craft Beer Week, hosted by Joel Connolly, could as easily be named ‘Craft Beard Week’, if not for the all-too-obvious statement it would appear to make.
If any place encapsulates the combination of fine dining without the snooty never-get-laid wait staff; and the trendy without the too-cool-for-you army of bearded artisans of ‘whatever’, Master might just be the perfect candidate.
Being a Dallas native by origin, I can understand the growing obsession with Texas BBQ here in Australia. One of the links I certainly did draw between this fixture of the American culinary world, and Ribs & Burgers, was the service.
When your face is as scarred as mine is, it becomes difficult to successfully grow a beard. Fortunately, there are only seldom situations where beards come in handy, such as when shrouding your identity after a bank heist, or when tucking into one of the artery-clogging staples at Paddington’s Cheekyburger.