On the second Tuesday of every month, celebrity Chef Stefano Manfredi and Balla Head Chef Gabriele Taddeucci, hold a four-course dinner with matching Italian wines to showcase a menu representing each of the various culinary regions of Italy.

The stunning interior of Balla

Tonight it was Piedmont, in northwest Italy, an area where most of its wines are produced on family estates which are made up of relatively small parcels of land. Each dish served throughout the evening featured the very exotic truffle, which is now found in all states of Australia.

Throughout the evening Stefano mingled with guests in the dining room, sharing his many cooking influences and his knowledge on truffles. We were all encouraged to touch and smell these exotic food items and, of course, we were treated to an exceptional four course dinner with matching wines.

Chef Stefano Manfredi presenting the Italian hazelnut and milk chocolate truffle dessert

We started off with antipasto which included vegetable puree with fontina and black truffle, followed by an entree of pasta, reggianno and black truffle. The main course, however, was the standout of the evening – Sella di coniglio al tartufo con lenticchie e cavolfiore gratinato – or, to us non-Italian speakers – rabbit loin with bread and truffle stuffing, braised lentils and Reggiano. This dish was simply spectacular. We finished the evening on a sweet note with an Italian hazelnut and milk chocolate truffle which, again, impressed.

Other regions of Italy explored on the menu in the following months at Bella include Lombardia, Sicily, Emilia Romanga, Puglia plus a special ‘Buon Natale’ traditional Christmas menu. Highly recommended for lovers of Italian cuisine and Italian wines. Phone +61 2 9657 9129 for reservations or click through here.

Maureen de Groot

Read more about Balla here

1950s frock Camden Passage, London | 1940s cardigan The Attic, Las Vegas | 1950s brooch Gift | Belt Target | Heels Macy’s | 1950s bag The Way We Wear 2012

B: One of Sydney’s famous French restaurant since 1966. Located on a sharp corner of Murray St and Darling Drive, it isn’t hard to find. I wanted to see what the fuss is about, so finally we found a day where we all were free. We had the 3 course lunch ($36) and it is also available for dinner ($59) along with their a la carte menu.

The service is here friendly and the meals came out relatively fast. Very warm and easy-going atmosphere though the view isn’t as great as I thought, probably because we were seated downstairs.

I highly recommend desserts here, the French really know to to indulge in desserts.

Champagne Punch – Strawberry, squeezed lemon, sparkling wine and fresh orange (1L $28 / 1.5L $38)
We started off with this shared champagne punch which was delicious and refreshing.

Escargots De Bourgogne – Dozen snails marinated in herb-infused court bouillon, oven baked in garlic butter (entree)
This was the first time I had escargots, and I was expecting it to be either really chewy or really soft, but it wasn’t. It was cooked perfectly and delicious with the well-seasoned garlic butter.

Pâté Maison – Armagnac flavoured duck liver pate with marinated champignons, date chutney and port vinaigrette (entree)
If you love pâté like myself, you would love this dish. The pâté is rich and aromatic, however the bread seems a little stale.

Salmon Roulade – Filled with herb cheese mousseline, served with potato nest and passion fruit dressing (entree)
Delicious dish, beautifully balance acidity and texture.

Mushroom and Leek Crepe – filled with baby mushroom, leek chives, and cauliflower puree served with Breton sauce (entree)
This one had nice flavour, but I believe it is too creamy for my liking. Unlike the salmon roulade, this one had no acidity and one texture.

Citrus Marinated Tasmanian Salmon – on mascarpone enriched sweet pea risotto, served with sauce vierge (main)
Beautifully crisp salmon skin, perfectly cooked and seasoned. A another well balanced and appetising dish.

Kangaroo Fillet – (recommend rare) on garlic pommes puree with a dijon mustard and honey bordelaise sauce (main)
This was probably my favourite main, even though it was quite rare, it works beautifully with the rich bordelaise sauce.

Chicken Cordon Bleu – Skin free chicken breast fillet stuffed with ham and swiss cheese, lightly coated with panko and topped with tomato and basil coulis (main)
This wasn’t as great as I expected but maybe I expected too much. It just seems like an average cordon bleu, not really something you will come back for.

Fillet of Beef Tenderloin – served with potato millefeuille and red wine jus ($3 surcharge) (main)
Cooked medium rare perfectly and the red wine jus was amazing.

Warm Sticky Date Pudding – with butterscotch and French vanilla ice-cream (dessert)
Delicious sticky date pudding. It was soft, sweet but not over powered by dates which I liked.

Handmade Profiteroles – with crème pâtissèrie and mint chocolate sauce (dessert)
I’m not a big fan of profiteroles, probably because I haven’t had one this great. Once you burst this little number open, it just oozes out deliciously smooth crème pâtissèrie.

Classic Crème Caramel (dessert)
I don’t have to say much, it was just simply amazing.

Chef Churned Hazelnut and Praline Ice Cream – on shortbread and Grand Marnier caramel (dessert)
The ice-cream is exquisite (I would know, I used to work in an ice-cream shop.. haha). The short bread was a little burn at the bottom but wasn’t a big problem.

Last friday night, my hubby Tony, his cousins Cary & Jenny and cousin Vickie and her hubby Chris (from New York) we all went to try out Adriano Zumbo’s Dessert Train at The Star, Pyrmont. Such a shame they were about to close but had some nice macarons and other interesting desserts! Definitely need to return back there again, when they are not closing!

Feeling pretty content in the aftermath of Hollandaise sauce, we strolled through Pyrmont, which is kind of quaint on a sun-drenched Monday morning, and popped back home. I’ll be spending the afternoon packing for a vintage road trip extravaganza. I’m off to the country tomorrow with the likes of Jesse and Tim of Like Johnny and June, and two cars full of other fun extravagant friends. Blog posts to come, as always.

Cardigan Quick Brown Fox | Skirt Naf Naf, Paris | Shoes Bloch | 1950s bag The Way We Wear Vintage Fair, 2011 | Hair flowers Sportsgirl | 1950s necklace Camden Passage, London

After six years, the lettering on my Eternity T-shirt has for some reason started to bleed and smear. It’s a shame, and it’s messy too; but it’s also kind of cool, because it now looks even more like Arthur Stace’s original chalk graffiti.

2. How I First Heard About Eternity

If you’re not from Australia you may not know about Arthur Stace. A true Aussie folk hero, Stace was a reformed alcoholic and born-again Christian who spread the gospel by writing chalk graffiti all over Sydney for decades in the mid-20th century. His one-word message was ETERNITY, written in a beautiful copperplate script despite the fact that Stace was otherwise illiterate. He’s estimated to have written the word 500,000 times over his career. As a longtime friend and graffiti aficionado/perpetrator says, “Dude got up.”

I first read about Stace in Peter Carey’s 30 Days in Sydney, one of a series of travel books written by famous authors. The Booker Prize-winning Carey is probably Australia’s most highly regarded living novelist. I read 30 Days in Sydney in 2005 while still living in New York, shortly after my first trip to Sydney, after I had already started dreaming of migrating here. (As it happens, Carey lives in New York.) Subtitled A Wildly Distorted Account, it’s a feverishly brilliant, sometimes hallucinatory meditation on Carey’s hometown that reads like a work of fiction; it’s one of my favorite books. In many ways I think it’s the best thing he’s written, though it’s probably considered a footnote to his career compared to bestselling novels like Oscar and Lucinda and True History of the Kelley Gang. Reading all of these books was an important part of my preparations for migrating – among other things, they gave me valuable glimpses of the dark side of life here.

In 30 Days, Carey interrupts his drunken, sometimes nightmarish misadventures while on holiday here in Sydney to muse on the enduring local appeal of this legendary figure and his ministry.

I had been at home in New York on the eve of the millennium celebrations and at seven forty-five on that Friday morning, while my wife and sons were still sleeping, I ran quietly down the stairs to witness my other home enter the year 2000… I turned to NBC, where I saw the opera house, the habour bridge. Then Sydney passed into the next century and the bridge suddenly exploded.

Few cities in the turning globe would equal that display at millennium’s end, and yet I, the sentimental expatriate, was less than enchanted and my emotion suddenly cooled. I’d seen this trick before. These fireworks were very similar to that display at our bicentenary in 1988. Then too the bridge grew green and fiery hair. OH WHAT A PARTY the Sydney Morning Herald had written then, and it had been true, the whole town was pissed. We had a classic Sydney rort and we disgraced ourselves with our total forgetfulness of what exactly it was that had occurred in this sandstone basin just two centuries before.

In the heat of our bicentennial celebration, the 50,000 years that had preceded the arrival of the First Fleet somehow slipped our minds. All right, it’s a white-settler culture. It’s what  you might have expected, but that does not explain why we forgot the white people too, or most of them. In 1988 we commemorated the soldiers, but the men and women beneath the decks just somehow were overlooked in all the excitement. The twin forces of our history, those two cruel vectors which shape us to this very day, had been forgotten and what we celebrated instead was some imperial and bureaucratic past towards which we felt neither affection nor connection.

Twelve years later I stared balefully at the fiery bridge but as the smoke cleared I spotted an unexpected sign. Just a little to the left of the northern pylon… a three-foot high word was written in illuminated copperplate.

Eternity

Seeing this, all my spleen was completely washed away, and I was smiling, insanely proud and happy at this secret message from my home, happier still because no one in New York, no one but a Sydneysider, could hope to crack this code, now beamed through space like a message from Tralfamador. What fucked-up Irish things it finally meant to me, I will struggle with later, but I cannot even begin to imagine what it might mean to a New Yorker.

An Aussie brandname? Something to do with time? Something, perhaps, to do with those 50,000 years of culture that this city is built on top of? But although 50,000 years is a very long time, it is not an eternity, and it is not why the people of Sydney love this word, or why the artist Martin Sharp has spent a lifetime painting it and repainting it… The secret of Eternity does not belong to Martin but he has been one of its custodians and I was determined to talk to him about it…

The man who designed Cream’s album covers for “Wheels of Fire” and “Disraeli Gears” looked all of sixty when I saw him, hungover, with his handsome face unshaved, and creased with a classic smoker’s skin. But I am of an age myself, and if I noticed the creases, I also noted with envy that his hair, though greying, was thick and strong.

I first saw Eternity when I was a kid, he told me as he rolled his second cigarette. I came out of my house and discovered this chalk calligraphy on the footpath. No one ever wrote anything on the streets in those days. I thought, what’s that? I didn’t think about what it meant. I didn’t analyse it. It was just beautiful and mysterious.

For years and years no one knew who wrote this word, said Martin. It would just spring up overnight. We now know the writer’s name was Arthur Stace. We know he was a very little bloke, just five foot three inches tall, with wispy white hair and he went off to the First World War as a stretcher-bearer. Later he was a ‘cockatoo’, a look-out for his sisters who ran a brothel. Then he became an alcoholic. By the 1930s, when he walked into a church in Pyrmont, he was drinking methylated spirits.

The church had a sign offering rock cakes and tea for the down and out.

Well, Arthur went in for the cakes but he found himself kneeling down and joining in the prayers. That is how he gave up the grog and got ‘saved’ but the God-given task of his life would be granted to him at another church, the Baptist Tabernacle on Burton Street in Darlinghurst.

On the day Arthur came into the Tabernacle the Reverend John Ridley had chosen Isaiah 57:15 as his text. For thus sayeth the high and lofty One who inhabiteth Eternity, whose name is Holy: I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.

Eternity, the preacher said. I would like to shout the word Eternity to through the streets of Sydney.

And that was it, said Martin. Arthur’s brain just went BANG. He staggered out of the church in tears. In the street he reached in his pocket and there he found a piece of chalk. Who knows how it got there? He knelt, and wrote Eternity on the footpath.

According to the story, he could hardly write his own name until this moment, but now he found his hand forming this perfect copperplate. That was sign enough. And from then on he would go wherever he felt God call him. He wrote his message as much as fifty times a day; in Martin Place, in Parramatta, all over Sydney people would come out onto their street and there it would be: Eternity. Arthur didn’t like concrete footpaths because the chalk did not show up so well. His favourite place was Kings Cross where the pavements were black.

Actually, God did not always send Arthur to write on the footpaths. Once, for instance, He instructed him to write Eternity inside the bell at the GPO although, Martin Sharp told me, the dark forces may have tried to rub it out since then. Of course he didn’t have permission. Arthur always felt he had permission ‘from a higher force’.

I didn’t have anything directly to do with that word appearing on the bridge, said Martin, but I have kept it alive; I suppose you could say that I have continued Arthur’s work. The paintings you know, but I have also just finished a tapestry of Eternity for the library in Sydney. I’m pleased Arthur’s work is finally in a library. He was our greatest writer. He said it all, in just one word. Of course he would be amazed to find himself in a library. And imagine, Peter, imagine what he would have felt, on that first day in Darlinghurst, to think that this copperplate he was miraculously forming on the footpath would not only be famous in the streets of Sydney but beamed out into space and sent all around the world.

I stayed with Martin talking for a long time, but we said no more about Arthur Stace. So it was not until much later that [sleepless] night… that I attempted to pin down the appeal of his message, not to Martin whose fascination seems both spiritual and hermetic, but to the less mystical more utilitarian people of Sydney.

You might think this is no great puzzle. But it is a puzzle – we generally do not like religion in this town, are hostile to ‘God-botherers’ and ‘wowsers’ and ‘bible-bashers‘. We could not like Arthur because he was ‘saved’, hell no! We like him because he was a cockatoo outside the brothel, because he was drunk, a ratbag, an outcast. He was his own man, a slave to no one on this earth.

Thus, quietly reflecting on what might be the idiosyncratic, very local nature of our feelings for Eternity, I began to follow the vein back to its source until, like someone who dreams the same bad dream each night, 200 years just vanished like sand between my fingers and I was seeing Arthur Stace as one more poor wretch transported to Botany Bay.

3. Why I Think Peter Carey Is Kind of Wrong About That Last Bit

Carey says the appeal of Eternity to Sydneysiders is “a puzzle” because “we generally do not like religion in this town.” Maybe. But which town is he referring to? The one he is familiar with, one populated with artists and writers? Sydney is a big place, made up of all kinds of people. Just recently I heard an elderly lady speak about the founding of the Uniting Church in Australia in 1977. It was a momentous occasion, the uniting of the Presbyterian, Methodist and Congregational churches into one entity with a decidedly progressive agenda – the church’s founding statement called for peace, human rights, the eradication of racism, justice for the poor and protection of the environment, streets ahead of its time compared to the Aussie mainstream. This lady proudly spoke of being there at the commemorate service at Town Hall 35 years ago. Perhaps Carey and his artist mates weren’t paying attention, but it was a big deal all the same.

Just to name one more example, Sydney also has a huge community of Polynesians, many of whom are churchgoers. A lot of them are into hip hop, and might therefore appreciate Arthur Stace as a graf legend as well as a man of faith. See what I mean? Which town are you talking about? What if someone said “We generally do not like art in this town.” It would be a pretty rude and dismissive thing to say, and someone who had devoted their life to it might object, but it might also be true. I recently read the autobiography of Robert Hughes, art critic and author of The Fatal Shore, the essential history of Australia’s convict experience; he had some very bitter things to say about his countrymen and their lack of taste. (Like Carey, he too lives in New York.) So it’s all about perspective.

“We could not like Arthur because he was ‘saved’, hell no! We like him because he was a cockatoo outside the brothel, because he was drunk, a ratbag, an outcast.” I get it, you’re suspicous of religion; and it’s true, there was something a little crazy about him. (There’s something a little crazy about all Christians, or there should be. Christians, and graffiti artists.) But I don’t think it’s fair to Stace to give all the credit to only the first half of his story. And anyway, who are you calling a ratbag, mate?

It’s absolutely true he’s an easy figure to love because of his humble, even miserable origins. And Carey’s spot-on in connecting Arthur’s story to the injustices of the convict past. But the crucial thing is that he was, as Stace himself would have put it, born again. If he had just stayed a drunk, none of this would have happened. He was inspired, and driven, by the tremendous feeling he got from being saved, and he did it in the most elegant and unintrusive (and yes, humble) way – while still getting that mystical, beautiful-yet-terrifying word out to everyone in the city for decades. That feeling is tangible when you look at that word; it speaks for itself. Can you imagine the same impact with a different word – a more pedestrian or “utilitiarian” word? UTILITY! Not really. That, I think, is the reason he’s a legend. Carey seems to have made a puzzle out of something self-evident simply because the faith thing jams his radar. Which I understand; I’m not trying to say you have to have faith to ponder eternity – not at all. I’m just addressing one lapse in his emotional logic. If you think I’m biased feel free to ignore me, but I think this case shows that even people who don’t partake can appreciate the power of faith if it’s genuine and comes from a place of love.

Not to nitpick Carey too much – his tripped-out perspective on Australian life and history constantly informs my own since migrating here, and I’m eternally grateful to him for teaching me the secret of Eternity. It’s something I’ve always taken as a sign that I came to the right place.

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Other shots in the series look at Pyrmont. Pyrmont was part of the old docks areas of the inner city. Now with gentrification, the new and trendy place to live close to the city.

Part of Ray’s weekly dozen

By Dr. Ray Rauscher

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I am not a food blogger so I’m not going to review the desserts.

I went to Adriano Zumbo‘s dessert train at The Star last Saturday. As you can see from my photo collage, the theme of the establishment is pretty much what I describe as the bubblegum, neon coloured mini version of Willy Wonka’s factory. I think the colour choices are pretty nice. I’m not really into bright neon colours, but I think what the interior did to this place works pretty well. I love the purple boots windmill.

The interior of this place reflects what Zumbo’s desserts are all about. Quirky and sweet.

Prosciutto di Parma e Grana Padano – Parma ham with Grana Padano chunks ($14)
A nice way to start the dinning experience with an antipasto because I do remember waiting a bit the the mains, and the mains aren’t as filling. Fresh ingredients but we didn’t finish the cheese, it was nice and smooth but too salty for my liking.

Gnocchi di patate con salsa d’anatra – potato gnocchi with duck ragù ($26)
I order this, and I think it was amazing! Yes, it is as small as it looks, but the tenderness of the shredded duck ragù held in all the flavours.

Spaghetti, granchio, zucchini, aglio e peperoncino – spaghetti, spanner crab, zucchini, chili and garlic ($28)
Mr.K order this, it was an interesting take on spaghetti which I haven’t experience before. It was nice but the pasta wasn’t quite al dente yet, I personally think it was slightly undercooked.

We aso had a dessert which I couldn’t find out the proper name, but it was like a soft chocolate truffle log ($?). Nothing too spectacular but it was enjoyable to eat.

If you have money to spend on a nice dining experience and willing to taste italian cuisine with a modern twist, this might be the place for you. Again, just be aware you might need to grab a cheeseburger before you go home. Ciao!

What better time to shop online…Although I made a promise not to buy any new clothing this year, I can justify necessary spends, right? But seriously, up until now I have not bought anything new for myself and it’s been kind of fun making do with my wardrobe. Not only do I have to get more creative with the way I wear things to imitate that ‘new’ feeling but I’ve finally gotten wear out of a few impulse buys I’d never even worn.

The results are some quirky/inventive looks I would never have attempted if I had new clothes lined up.

Anyway, here’s what I purchased via ASOS a few days ago, except in black:

It’s pretty simple and easy to incorporate into the rest of my wardrobe. I buy clothing on 2 main principles:

1)      If it ‘meshes’ well with whatever I already have, it will be worn a lot

2)      If it’s something I don’t already have or can’t recreate, it can become a staple

In this cold weather, a warm yet accessible dress is important, which is what this is!

What about you? On what basis do you buy new clothes?

Let me know in the comments

Mei

The Star’s live music bar, Rock Lily, is hosting blues sessions each Sunday in May, June and July from 2pm-6pm, with each month featuring a different headline resident artist.

The first resident is renowned blues artist Steve Clisby and his band, The Steve Clisby Blues Experience, performing each Sunday in May from 2pm-6pm. The Steve Clisby Blues Experience delivers pure velvet sounds with Steve Clisby on vocals, Bill Risby on keyboard, Kere Buchannon on drums, Alex Hewetson on bass, Jonathan Pease on guitar and Adrian Cunningham on saxophone.

June will see Little Nina featuring Tina Harrod take to the stage every Sunday afternoon, while The Continental Robert Blues Party will perform each Sunday in July.

Rock Lily showcases the best established and emerging Australian music acts, plus features a number of international performers. Rock Lily has an inviting, warm décor, and is stocked with one of the largest selections of tequila in Australia.

For more information or enquiries, visit http://www.star.com.au or 1800 700 700.

Entry is complimentary and no bookings are required.

Grain fed Rangers Valley sirloin with hon shimeji mushrooms and a lime black pepper jus

Chef Chase Kojima helms the counter at this slick new restaurant in Pyrmont, Sydney. It’s clear that his time working at Nobu restaurants around the world have been a strong influence on him as he brings modern Japanese cuisine to Sydney

The staff in this buzzy restaurant are attentive and knowledgeable and they selected dishes for us to be shared at the table. Our waiter explained that the dishes would follow the order of the menu – starting with sashimi, then tempura, grilled dishes from the robata, and finally sushi (we skipped soup and salad).

Hokkaido scallop sashimi with yuzu honey dressing and crunchy miso

Our waiter either clearly knew what we wanted from chatting with us, or all the food served there is outstanding. I like to think a bit of both.

Kingfish ceviche with green chilli and crispy potato

We started with Kingfish miso ceviche and scallops. I guess with great access to superbly fresh seafood, both of these were going to be great anyway, with the Kingfish a classic ceviche, marinated in lemon and green chilli and topped with crispy potato strips. The scallops came thinly sliced, dressed with yuzu honey and topped with crunchy miso. The citrusy yuzu dressing and the saltiness of the miso brought out the sweetness of the beautiful Hokkaido scallops.

Snapper tempura with black pepper and green chilli vinegar

Next up was the tempura. One of my favourites of the evening was lightly tempura’d snapper fillets that came with an insanely good black pepper and green chilli vinegar dipping sauce. We also had asparagus with a truffle poke sauce and edamame dip.

Beef short ribs with caramalised eschallots and kurubota pork belly with spicy shirodashi and yuzukosho

From the robata, beef short ribs with caramised eschallots and a BBQ terriyaki sauce, tsukune chicken with shallots and a pineapple ginger sauce, octopus with a Peruvian glaze and sirloin with foie gras, fig and a plum wine soy. To be honest, the sauces here I think overpowered the dishes, but each of the meats was so perfectly cooked. I particularly remember the melt in your mouth texture of the short ribs and how tender the octopus was. We also had kurubota pork belly, with spicy shirodashi and yuzukosho (a paste from chilli peppers, yuzu peel and salt), grain fed Rangers Valley sirloin with hon shimeji mushrooms and lime black pepper jus and a classic, miso cod. Yes, we may have ordered too much.

“Queensland roll” – spanner crab, spicy avocado sushi wrapped in soy paper

We then moved to the sushi course of “Queensland roll” – a roll made with spanner crab, spicy avocado, and soy paper, and spicy tuna with crispy rice, truffle salt and a spicy mayo. Maybe I am partial to seafood but I love that the food ended on something lighter. Both these again let the seafood shine, especially the crab in the Queensland roll.

The meal finished with a selection of desserts all of which were great (my favourite was the fondant). I think desserts deserve a separate post, each a little piece of delicious art. And a wonderfully sweet way to end a fantastic meal.

Sokyo
Ground floor, the Darling
The Star
80 Pyrmont Street
Pyrmont NSW 2009
Tel: 61 2 9777 9000

Lunch: Fri-Sat 12pm – 2.30pm
Dinner: Mon-Thu 6pm – 10:15pm
Fri & Sat 6pm – 11:15pm
Sunday closed

Grain fed Rangers Valley sirloin with hon shimeji mushrooms and a lime black pepper jus

Chef Chase Kojima helms the counter at this slick new restaurant in Pyrmont, Sydney. It’s clear that his time working at Nobu restaurants around the world have been a strong influence on him as he brings modern Japanese cuisine to Sydney

The staff in this buzzy restaurant are attentive and knowledgeable and they selected dishes for us to be shared at the table. Our waiter explained that the dishes would follow the order of the menu – starting with sashimi, then tempura, grilled dishes from the robata, and finally sushi (we skipped soup and salad).

Hokkaido scallop sashimi with yuzu honey dressing and crunchy miso

Our waiter either clearly knew what we wanted from chatting with us, or all the food served there is outstanding. I like to think a bit of both.

Kingfish ceviche with green chilli and crispy potato

We started with Kingfish miso ceviche and scallops. I guess with great access to superbly fresh seafood, both of these were going to be great anyway, with the Kingfish a classic ceviche, marinated in lemon and green chilli and topped with crispy potato strips. The scallops came thinly sliced, dressed with yuzu honey and topped with crunchy miso. The citrusy yuzu dressing and the saltiness of the miso brought out the sweetness of the beautiful Hokkaido scallops.

Snapper tempura with black pepper and green chilli vinegar

Next up was the tempura. One of my favourites of the evening was lightly tempura’d snapper fillets that came with an insanely good black pepper and green chilli vinegar dipping sauce. We also had asparagus with a truffle poke sauce and edamame dip.

Beef short ribs with caramalised eschallots and kurubota pork belly with spicy shirodashi and yuzukosho

From the robata, beef short ribs with caramised eschallots and a BBQ terriyaki sauce, tsukune chicken with shallots and a pineapple ginger sauce, octopus with a Peruvian glaze and sirloin with foie gras, fig and a plum wine soy. To be honest, the sauces here I think overpowered the dishes, but each of the meats was so perfectly cooked. I particularly remember the melt in your mouth texture of the short ribs and how tender the octopus was. We also had kurubota pork belly, with spicy shirodashi and yuzukosho (a paste from chilli peppers, yuzu peel and salt), grain fed Rangers Valley sirloin with hon shimeji mushrooms and lime black pepper jus and a classic, miso cod. Yes, we may have ordered too much.

“Queensland roll” – spanner crab, spicy avocado sushi wrapped in soy paper

We then moved to the sushi course of “Queensland roll” – a roll made with spanner crab, spicy avocado, and soy paper, and spicy tuna with crispy rice, truffle salt and a spicy mayo. Maybe I am partial to seafood but I love that the food ended on something lighter. Both these again let the seafood shine, especially the crab in the Queensland roll.

The meal finished with a selection of desserts all of which were great (my favourite was the fondant). I think desserts deserve a separate post, each a little piece of delicious art. And a wonderfully sweet way to end a fantastic meal.

Sokyo
Ground floor, the Darling
The Star
80 Pyrmont Street
Pyrmont NSW 2009
Tel: 61 2 9777 9000

Lunch: Fri-Sat 12pm – 2.30pm
Dinner: Mon-Thu 6pm – 10:15pm
Fri & Sat 6pm – 11:15pm
Sunday closed

Pyrmont, Sydney’s business centre and Hello Kitty hub.

With Chinese culture on my mind I attended a cultural lecture with a family friend on Thursday at the AUSCOCO Centre in Castlereagh St. ‘The History of Beijing’ is a series of lectures presented by Dr Richard Wu, Psychiatrist and historian.

Crammed into a small room with an assortment of elderly Chinese  and Australian listeners, I forked out my $ 2 donation and settled in to absorb  gems about the 1919 May Uprisings and Beijing’s New Culture Movement.  Although I had to leave an hour into the talk, Dr Wu managed to raise some interesting questions in my mind about the influence of Western tertiary education upon some of China’s most iconic figures.

Soong Mei Ling, or Madame Chiang Kai Shek was one such figure. Educated at Wellesley , a top Ivy League liberal arts school, Dr Wu mentioned her ‘party girl’ college reputation. Having a former Wellesley-ite as a flatmate, I started to wonder about the extent of Mei Ling’s involvement in her college’s culture.

A Wellesley girl in 2012.

Madame Chiang during her Wellesley days, 1913-1917

Most American liberal arts colleges are known for their acceptance and prevalence of lesbian culture and Wellesley is no different. Could it be that Madame Chiang, a proponent of the New Life Movement and Nationalist icon, participated in similar experiences?

As my in the know flatmate pointed out, queer culture may not have been as dominant in Wellesley in the early 1900’s, but it probably still existed as a sub culture at the very least.  Fascinating then that, having experienced such richly liberal ideals that Mrs Chiang could slip so naturally into her role as First Lady of the Chinese Republic, with all that entailed.

There’s obviously much more to say on this topic and I may explore more of it, more eloquently later when I have the time but for now let’s focus on more pressing issues-like food!

After I rushed out of the AUSCOCO lecture to meet a friend at World Square, we headed to a Thai restaurant near Pitt St. Although I’d eaten there on other occasions, I’d never been really impressed with their food. But this time it was very intense. While trying to order caused some awkwardness ( my Thai friend feeling bemused at the Thai waiter’s English interactions with her) we settled on sour pork sausages, spicy beef soup and fried egg mince. It was delicious. Without going into great detail, I’d just say it was a surprisingly tasty meal. Although we probably shouldn’t have ordered so much rice…

Upload/Ispicy  beef soup. Add small amounts to bowl and wait for tears to trickle down face.

Sour pork sausages

Anyway! Will be back later in the week. Till then, feel free to dwell on Madame Chiang’s deliciously suggestive college life.

Bales of wool being loaded on board Magdalene Vinnen March 1933
Samuel J Hood Studio
ANMM Collection

The museum has developed this project, in association with Sydney Heritage Fleet, to exhibit an array of objects not available for viewing in the museum. Photographs depicting commercial shipping, sailing races and seaside workers adorn the walls. One example is an image of the visit of the German steel barque Magdalene Vinnen, highlighting the vibrant maritime scene of Woolloomooloo wharf in 1933.

Watercraft from the Australian Register of Historic Vessels (ARHV) seem to float on air, carefully poised in the foyer area. Social and cultural icons of Sydney Harbour such as skiffs, dinghies and rowing shells are featured. The 18-foot skiff Yendys, which was restored to its former glory between 1977 and 1982, appears majestic with its discernible anchor ensign emblazoned on its sails. Also displayed is a scale model of the hull and keel of Ben Lexcen’s ‘secret weapon’, Australia’s famous 1983 America’s Cup winner, Australia II.

Pyrmont and the waters surrounding it also contain a fascinating Indigenous cultural heritage, steeped in the traditions of the Gadigal people. Drawings from the early 1800s illustrate Aboriginal people using rock shelters under cliffs and cooking fish caught in bark canoes or nawi.

All these stories add to Australia’s diverse social and cultural history. They also allow more of the museum’s precious gems to be unveiled in a way that both captures the essence of our maritime past and inspires our imagination.

On 30 May, the museum is hosting the first conference on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander watercraft, Nawi.

For more information on the museum’s development of the ARHV, in consultation with Sydney Heritage Fleet, click here.

Nicole Cama, curatorial assistant

Yendys, 1924
restored 1977-1982
Sydney Heritage Fleet
Photographer: Zoe McMahon ANMM

Tank-test model 5854B scale model of hull and keel of Australia II 1981
ANMM Collection
Photographer: Zoe McMahon ANMM

Wharf 7 redevelopment
Photographer: Zoe McMahon ANMM

Of course goodbyes are always made easier with alcohol as is life in general (I’m kidding kids), and what better way to signal the end of something then with a few pints of beer, a few shots of something on fire and a bunch of stupid ideas. It can turn something that is potentially sad into something fun, and if the few turns into a car load then it can be wildly ridiculous, just like the time I may or may have not made advances on my boss’s wife at a work function… but that’s a story for another time.

When I heard the news that the Sydney monorail was being taken down I was hit with an immense feeling of sadness. I proceeded to spend the remainder of the day thinking about the glory of an eyesore that was those blue rails, about the automated voice that got you all excited that Sydney had a Spanish Quarter, about the monorail stop in Chinatown that never was, and all this accompanied by the constant soundtrack of ‘monorail, monorail monoooraaaaaiiiil… mono-doh!’. Later a friend of mine and I decided that the best way to say goodbye to this dear old friend of ours was with a monorail pub crawl, the idea being that we’d get off each stop and have a few drinks at whatever bar was close. The only thing we needed was a name.

Clockwise from top left – Hello front door; Yes I’m sad too; Oh look its the inside; fatty fries and a surprisingly good aioli.

And this, my dear readers is how I found myself out on a mildly chilly Saturday night embarking on #monocrawl2012. We start our evening at the highly trendy Hotel Coronation which sits right near the Galleries Victoria stop. Ok so it’s not the coolest place in Sydney and a place that attracts drunkards at a highly disturbing 7am on a weekday doesn’t scream inviting to non-locals, but it’s this diveyness that I find so appealing. We kick back with a few beers and, some gloriously fried in not canola oil fries and what’s great for me and not so much my company, F1 qualifying live on one of the TV’s. If sticky carpeted floors and memories of an 80’s Irish pub/ sports bar aren’t your thing then you could try going to The Arthouse Hotel.

Clockwise from top left – It’s the monorail; Psychedelic seats and bored passengers; Poignant shot; What I see when I’m drunk.

From here our night begins in earnest and we jump aboard the monorail. Now those of you from Sydney would be fairly familiar with how expensive a monorail ride can be ($5.00 for a single ticket), but if you’re smart about this then you’ll go and get yourself a day pass at $9.80 which allows you unlimited access for the day.

At our next stop – the aptly named City Centre – we encounter our first hiccup of the night with the closest bar Kulabar looking to be no longer in business. We try going to St. James Hotel which is further up on Castlereagh Street only to find that that too is sadly closed. Realising we’re behind on time anyway we decide to get back onto the monorail.  If you come across the same problem that we had then I might suggest that you try City Tattersalls, which is directly opposite the station. This sadly wasn’t an option for us as several people in our group lived within the 5KM radius that forces them to become members should they want to go inside.

Left: The view from Helm; Right The view outside of Helm. Hello ladies.

Never one to be down after a minor setback we kick on and head towards Darling Harbour, with the first stop of this precinct being Darling Park. Here we head into Helm Bar. It’s remarkably quiet for a Saturday night and lacking in character, but with its views of the harbour and an empty bar we weren’t about to start complaining. By this point I’ve switched to Gin and after buying a round of shots I find it amusing that due to a tequila aversion by one of the girls she decides to sip on it using a straw rather than knocking it back. It is an odd sight. If drinking in an overextended tin shed isn’t really your thing then you might want to try Pontoon around the corner, Cargo Bar on the other side of the aquarium, or if you’re feeling a little classy then at Coast above Cockle Bay Wharf.

A quiet moment of reflection outside the Pyrmont Bridge Hotel. Memories.

The closeness of the next stop reminds us of how redundant the monorail is. At only a few hundred metres away it would have made more sense to walk across the Pyrmont Bridge (affording us time to get sober), but what’s a monocrawl without a monorail? Like the good sports we are, we get back on and head to our next Destination the Pyrmont Bridge Hotel. In the past I’ve always avoided this pub as I always saw it as the seedy 24 hour joint in Darling Harbour. I’m pleasantly surprised to be greeted by friendly bouncers (going beyond their call of duty to find extra chairs for other patrons) and an interior lifted straight from the 1920’s that wouldn’t look so far removed in uber trendy Surry Hills/ Darlinghurst. If however, you can’t get past these reservations then you may want to try heading inside Harbourside and going to Cohibar where you can sit back with an excellent cocktail while puffing on a very fine cigar.

Clockwise from top left – The Flaming Charlie; Larb so good from Mrs’s Chans, Being creepily served by me; Larb so good I had to throw in another shot.

With the next stop being even closer in proximity – Convention – and with us running behind on time and being fairly intoxicated we decide to bypass it and head towards the Paddy’s Markets stop where we stroll towards Charlie Chan’s. Ok so technically this isn’t the closest bar and if you wanted to stick to the rules then you may want to try going over to the Market City Tavern, but Charlie Chan’s (or Chacha’s as I affectionately call it) happen to serve one of my favourite drinks in Sydney, the amusingly named Flaming Charlie (fits in with the Simpson’s theme as well), a layered shot of drinks that I can’t remember that’s set aflame and further ignited using cinnamon powder. Feeling overly tipsy we order some food from Mrs Chan’s (by Crocodile Senior), a lovely plate of larb gai and some vegetarian spring rolls. The food sits well in our stomachs and perhaps I’m a little drunk at this point as I believe it to be the best larb gai I’d ever come across (will have to go back and retry it in a sober state). I guess the cute waitress didn’t hurt either (although the rejection kind of did).

Unfortunately we spend a little too long inside and therefore miss the last monorail and with it our last monorail stop, World Square. Had we made it we could have tried going to Shark Hotel and ordered some fried ice cream from Holy Basil, or we may have walked on over to Mr B’s where we would have experienced a little bit of Bangkok in Sydney.

From there the monocrawl was over but my night had only just begun. Begun to get stupid that is. A brief summary would include karaoke, copious amounts of something alcoholic mixed with green tea, a drunken meal of bibimbap at 4 or 5 am and an all day vomiting session the day after, by which point I had fallen completely off the rails. So just like any other farewell then.

Ok so I realise that alcohol isn’t for everyone but I suggest a monocrawl is something you should do before the monorail gets taken down. Perhaps you’ll want to try a monorail food crawl which would also be a brilliant idea. If it were me then my itinerary may look something like this; katsu cheese curry from Ichi-Ban Boshi at The Galleries, a Reuben Sandwich from Reuben and More inside Westfield at City Centre, a mini tsukemen from Menya at Darling Park, a scoop or 2 of ice cream from Movenpick at Harbourside, nothing from Convention, a Chinese Lamb Burger from the Northern Chinese vendor in Dixon House at Paddy’s Markets and finally that fried ice cream I mentioned from Holy Basil inside Shark Hotel at World Square. Go on, I implore you. #monocrawl2012

Hotel Coronation

5-7 Park Street, Sydney
(02) 9266 3100

Helm Bar

Wheat Road, Sydney
(02) 9290 1571

Pyrmont Bridge Hotel

96 Union Street, Pyrmont
(02) 9660 6996

Charlie Chans

635 George Street, Sydney
(02) 9281 4299

First came two menus, an iPad for a wine list and a fresh and fluffy  brioche with butter and black volcanic sea salt that stained the brioche as I pondered how to take the iPad home with me.

We shared the prawn appetiser with corn salad and wood grilled watermelon, that had many interesting components in it though I’m not entirely sure it worked.

For our main, we split the wagyu grain-fed flank designed for the table with Argentinian chimichurri and a side of potato puree. The wagyu was cooked medium, leaving it perfectly balanced between crisp and tender. The chimichurri had a kick to it that added an entirely different take to the steak. All combined with the puree, it was delicious.

Not entirely sure if we should get dessert since we were a tad full, the waiter had me sold when he said the chocolate dessert is the best and also the most aesthetically interesting. I’m only human, how could I say no?

He advised me to take a photo of it as soon as it came out as he was going to destroy it for me and I watched in horror / fascination as he warped this perfectly round chocolate ball of delight.

The mess I was left with afterwards oddly looked much more appetising than the perfection before it. I loved my dessert, which was a warm couverture ganache, dulche de leche ice cream and peanut butter mousse. It was lick-the-plate worthy though I chose not to.

Anna is not a dessert fanatic but decided to give the passionfruit based dessert a go. A mix of macadamia financier, mango sorbet, dried coconut and sago, it wasn’t too sweet so she was able to eat most of it, though she disliked the macadamia cake, preferring the sago, bubbles and sorbet. I on the other hand loved the macadamia flavour it added to her mix.

Overall, Black by Ezard is an asset to The Star and worthy competition to many other fine dining restaurants out there. It’s the perfect place to go for a simple, yet elegant splurge.