Continuing our quest to eat as many Fast Festival Feasts as possible this month, Caliban and I went to Crossroads at the Swissotel before seeing David Sedaris at the State Theatre (sidenote: David Sedaris is just the coolest person ever).
Seated at 6.45, we had our meals (grilled Atlantic salmon on bean and citrus salad) by 6.55. To some, this might seem worrying, but we had to haul butt to the Theatre in less than an hour, so we took it as a welcome development.
The Stoneleigh sav blanc worked so well with the salmon, which was perfectly pink. The crispy skin lacked the flavour we saw at the Garden Court earlier in the week, but it was still good. I loved the bean and citrus salad - segments of grapefruit, orange and even lime were mixed with fresh, crunchy green beans and tossed in a basil and shallot dressing. Great summer fare.
Like all good customers, we also ordered a side of roast potatoes with garlic and rosemary. I love potatoes, and these were among the best I've ever had. Scratch that - they were the best. Tiny new potatoes that were fondant-like on the inside and crispy on the outside. So damn good. Luckily for Caliban, the meal was so filling that I had to forgo some of my little nuggets of starchy bliss. He ate them willingly.
We got the bill quickly and expected our Ferrero Rocher chocolates to come with it. We pointed this out to the waitress.
"Oh, we don't have any left. I can see if the chef will make you come petit fours. Would you like that?"
We agree that yes, we'd like the dessert we're entitled to, and I notice other people around us getting bread before their meals. You know my drill - treat every customer with the same respect. Don't get me wrong, it was a beautiful meal, and one we thoroughly enjoyed, but it would have been nice to be treated like the other customers at the restaurant. Add to that the fact that the waitress had just forgotten about our chocolates...and, well, I was less than pleased with the service.
I do realise that I've spent the better half of the last two posts complaining about service - which possibly makes me look spoiled and ungrateful. Sorry. I do intend for this blog to be a place to rave about food I love, so I promise this will be the exception, not the rule. Apologies in spades.
Crossroads Bar and Restaurant
Level 8, Swissôtel Sydney,
68 Market St, Sydney
02 9238 7082
Wednesday, January 20
Monday, January 18
subsolo
I have been looking forward to eating at Subsolo since a work colleague raved about being invited to its opening night. She went on and on about the cocktails and tapas at this inner city, underground Spanish restaurant. As I've established, I do love cocktails and tapas, so it seemed like Subsolo and I were meant to be.
I was wrong.
Ready to try another Fast Festival Feast, my friend D and I went to Subsolo on a rainy Wednesday night. We're excited by the meal we're about to receive: a selection of Subsolo's signature tapas. Excellent, we think. A chance to try all the amazing things we've been hearing about this place.
When we arrive, I tell the waiter that our reservation is under "Lauren." He scans the reservations and can't find it.
"Sorry, there's nothing here for Lauren for 6.30."
"But I booked! Yesterday. I know I booked. Maybe they took my name down incorrectly," I plead.
"Mmm," he says, glancing at the book. "Is your last name Moan?"
"No," I say, before realising that I am Moan. I must have enunciation problems, because a lot of people think my name is Maureen if we've met over the phone. "Oh, actually...I think that's me. The waitress must have thought I said Moan."
By this stage, D is laughing so hard she might need stitches. "Moan? That's a good one." I feel like reminding her of her not-so-normal Indian name that people mispronounce all the time, but being benevolent and in need of tapas, I don't.
So here we are, Moan and D, ready for tasty Spanish morsels. We're seated and the waiter asks us which of the FFF drinks we'd like, the beer or wine. We both order the pinot noir. Moments later, another waiter arrives and asks us the same thing. We tell him we've already ordered our drinks, and he looks a little miffed. As if to say, "Well, excuse me for daring to give you girls some service! Next time, I'll just waltz on by." Which, of course, he does, for the next two and half hours of our meal.
Our drinks arrive. D gets her pinot noir...and I'm given the sav blanc. I didn't ask for it, but in the interests of keeping the peace (and also because I do quite enjoy a sav blanc) I don't say anything.
About 45 minutes later, our tapas boxes arrive. Oh, goody! Obviously I want to hear what each piece of tapas actually is, so I can report back to you, dear reader. But with a flourish of napkin, the waiter is gone and D and I are left to investigate our meals alone.
We decide we love the patatas bravas. The potatoes are roasted to crispy perfection, and the tomato sauce is infused with enough chilli to warrant the extra bottle of wine we order (too bad it takes 35 minutes to show up). The salt cod croquette with aioli is good, too. The chorizo is a little too oliy for D, but I love it. The texture is great and it's good and spicy. The meatballs filled with manchego cheese should, by rights, be the standout. They're on a bed of tomato sauce (which is great), but the meatballs have obviously been made and cooked hours ahead of time. The cheese doesn't ooze from them as it should - it's a hard little rock in the centre of cold, tough mince. The Portuguese chicken in peri-peri sauce is good, but again, it's cold and tough.
We decide it's time for Subsolo to redeem itself, so we order dessert (we're nice like that). While waiting for our bottle of temperanillo (did I mention it took 35 minutes to get from the bar to our table?) I settle on Spanish churros filled with dulce de leche with Spanish chocolate sauce and honey nougat icecream, and D orders the hot chocolate pudding with melting chocolate centre, chocolate sauce and vanilla bean icecream.
About 40 minutes whizzes by until finally, we're given our dessert. To be honest, it was worth the wait - the dessert was definitely the highlight and if we ever visit Subsolo again, it'll be the sole reason. My churros were fresh from the deep-fryer, and filled with the most decadently rich caramel sauce ever. It was thick, not overly sweet and just plain amazing. The chocolate sauce was a little too much with it, but the icecream worked well. D's chocolate pudding was similarly indulgent. The centre was a puddle of thick, oozing sauce and the edges were slightly crispy.
But dessert isn't enough to save a meal - especially one where the service was so ridiculously bad. Come to think of it, it's quite ironic that they misheard my name as Moan, if you catch my drift.
Subsolo
161 King St, Sydney NSW 2000
Corner Castlereagh St
9223 7000
I was wrong.
Ready to try another Fast Festival Feast, my friend D and I went to Subsolo on a rainy Wednesday night. We're excited by the meal we're about to receive: a selection of Subsolo's signature tapas. Excellent, we think. A chance to try all the amazing things we've been hearing about this place.
When we arrive, I tell the waiter that our reservation is under "Lauren." He scans the reservations and can't find it.
"Sorry, there's nothing here for Lauren for 6.30."
"But I booked! Yesterday. I know I booked. Maybe they took my name down incorrectly," I plead.
"Mmm," he says, glancing at the book. "Is your last name Moan?"
"No," I say, before realising that I am Moan. I must have enunciation problems, because a lot of people think my name is Maureen if we've met over the phone. "Oh, actually...I think that's me. The waitress must have thought I said Moan."
By this stage, D is laughing so hard she might need stitches. "Moan? That's a good one." I feel like reminding her of her not-so-normal Indian name that people mispronounce all the time, but being benevolent and in need of tapas, I don't.
So here we are, Moan and D, ready for tasty Spanish morsels. We're seated and the waiter asks us which of the FFF drinks we'd like, the beer or wine. We both order the pinot noir. Moments later, another waiter arrives and asks us the same thing. We tell him we've already ordered our drinks, and he looks a little miffed. As if to say, "Well, excuse me for daring to give you girls some service! Next time, I'll just waltz on by." Which, of course, he does, for the next two and half hours of our meal.
Our drinks arrive. D gets her pinot noir...and I'm given the sav blanc. I didn't ask for it, but in the interests of keeping the peace (and also because I do quite enjoy a sav blanc) I don't say anything.
About 45 minutes later, our tapas boxes arrive. Oh, goody! Obviously I want to hear what each piece of tapas actually is, so I can report back to you, dear reader. But with a flourish of napkin, the waiter is gone and D and I are left to investigate our meals alone.
We decide we love the patatas bravas. The potatoes are roasted to crispy perfection, and the tomato sauce is infused with enough chilli to warrant the extra bottle of wine we order (too bad it takes 35 minutes to show up). The salt cod croquette with aioli is good, too. The chorizo is a little too oliy for D, but I love it. The texture is great and it's good and spicy. The meatballs filled with manchego cheese should, by rights, be the standout. They're on a bed of tomato sauce (which is great), but the meatballs have obviously been made and cooked hours ahead of time. The cheese doesn't ooze from them as it should - it's a hard little rock in the centre of cold, tough mince. The Portuguese chicken in peri-peri sauce is good, but again, it's cold and tough.
We decide it's time for Subsolo to redeem itself, so we order dessert (we're nice like that). While waiting for our bottle of temperanillo (did I mention it took 35 minutes to get from the bar to our table?) I settle on Spanish churros filled with dulce de leche with Spanish chocolate sauce and honey nougat icecream, and D orders the hot chocolate pudding with melting chocolate centre, chocolate sauce and vanilla bean icecream.
About 40 minutes whizzes by until finally, we're given our dessert. To be honest, it was worth the wait - the dessert was definitely the highlight and if we ever visit Subsolo again, it'll be the sole reason. My churros were fresh from the deep-fryer, and filled with the most decadently rich caramel sauce ever. It was thick, not overly sweet and just plain amazing. The chocolate sauce was a little too much with it, but the icecream worked well. D's chocolate pudding was similarly indulgent. The centre was a puddle of thick, oozing sauce and the edges were slightly crispy.
But dessert isn't enough to save a meal - especially one where the service was so ridiculously bad. Come to think of it, it's quite ironic that they misheard my name as Moan, if you catch my drift.
Subsolo
161 King St, Sydney NSW 2000
Corner Castlereagh St
9223 7000
Saturday, January 16
garden court, sofitel
January means a lot of things to people. In Australia, it might mean music festivals, days spent in cossies and thongs, barbecues and beer. In the Northern Hemisphere, it means pretty much the opposite. And in mine and Caliban's little world, it means the Sydney Festival is here.
This is our third Sydney Festival together, and while we're not seeing as many shows this year, we're definitely putting our money where our mouths are with the Fast Festival Feasts. In short: fancy restaurants offer $30 main meals between 12-1pm and 6-7pm during the festival. Your $30 also scores you a glass of Stoneleigh wine or a Little Creatures beer, and a Ferrero at the end of the meal.
On Monday, we visited the Garden Court at the Sofitel Hotel to try their FFF. We took friends Jake and Jess along - and I have to say that it was amazing.
The meal on offer was pan-fried ocea trout with pommes puree, zucchini flower and asparagus, but before this showed up, we were treated like actual guests of the hotel and served bread, oil and butter. You might think bread is a fairly cheap commodity (along with butter and to a lesser extent, oil) and therefore one that should be served no matter where you are, but a lot of FFF restaurants simply serve you the meal, without affording you the niceties they would to a patron who's paying upwards of $40 for their main. My problem with this is that FFFs attract people who wouldn't normally go to these restaurants. With that in mind, the restaurants should be doing everything they can to make the meal special and memorable - both so the customers love it, and so they come back. Simple, no?
So we ate the bread (we even got a choice - sourdough, multigrain, olive or rye). And then we ate the complimentary amuse bouche of watercress soup, which was amazing and nothing like what I'd imagine supermodels must eat all day (rumour has it Liz Hurley scoffs watercress soup when she needs to squeeze into safety pin dresses). It was creamy, rich and peppered with a little olive oil. Amazing.
Next, of course, came the main meal. The trout was gorgeous. Bright pink flesh that fell apart with the touch of a fork was soft in texture but big on flavour. So yummy. The crispy skin was a great touch, and I loved the pommes puree. We'd ordered chunky fries as a side, and these were almost the highlight. More huge than chunky, more chips than fries, they weren't oily at all, and had a generous smattering of salt and rosemary. Yum.
Garden Court
Sofitel Wentworth
5/61-101 Phillip St
Sydney NSW 2000
(02) 9228 9157
This is our third Sydney Festival together, and while we're not seeing as many shows this year, we're definitely putting our money where our mouths are with the Fast Festival Feasts. In short: fancy restaurants offer $30 main meals between 12-1pm and 6-7pm during the festival. Your $30 also scores you a glass of Stoneleigh wine or a Little Creatures beer, and a Ferrero at the end of the meal.
On Monday, we visited the Garden Court at the Sofitel Hotel to try their FFF. We took friends Jake and Jess along - and I have to say that it was amazing.
The meal on offer was pan-fried ocea trout with pommes puree, zucchini flower and asparagus, but before this showed up, we were treated like actual guests of the hotel and served bread, oil and butter. You might think bread is a fairly cheap commodity (along with butter and to a lesser extent, oil) and therefore one that should be served no matter where you are, but a lot of FFF restaurants simply serve you the meal, without affording you the niceties they would to a patron who's paying upwards of $40 for their main. My problem with this is that FFFs attract people who wouldn't normally go to these restaurants. With that in mind, the restaurants should be doing everything they can to make the meal special and memorable - both so the customers love it, and so they come back. Simple, no?
So we ate the bread (we even got a choice - sourdough, multigrain, olive or rye). And then we ate the complimentary amuse bouche of watercress soup, which was amazing and nothing like what I'd imagine supermodels must eat all day (rumour has it Liz Hurley scoffs watercress soup when she needs to squeeze into safety pin dresses). It was creamy, rich and peppered with a little olive oil. Amazing.
Next, of course, came the main meal. The trout was gorgeous. Bright pink flesh that fell apart with the touch of a fork was soft in texture but big on flavour. So yummy. The crispy skin was a great touch, and I loved the pommes puree. We'd ordered chunky fries as a side, and these were almost the highlight. More huge than chunky, more chips than fries, they weren't oily at all, and had a generous smattering of salt and rosemary. Yum.
Garden Court
Sofitel Wentworth
5/61-101 Phillip St
Sydney NSW 2000
(02) 9228 9157
Wednesday, January 6
vive la bouillabaise!
Last week, our friend John made bouillabaise for everyone at his New Year's Eve party. Paired with generous hunks of Vienna loaf and equally generous amounts of champagne, it was a hit.
It inspired me to make my own bouillabaise. I searched the net for some recipes, and then adapted these to my own needs. I wanted a quick recipe (for a weeknight dinner) and I didn't want to use mussels, as I wasn't going to the seafood markets (and I don't really trust the mussels from Woolworth's!). Here is my recipe:
Easy-peasy bouillabaisse
Serves 4
Ingredients
800g tinned diced tomatoes
1 cup dry white wine
2 cups fish stock
300g raw prawns
300g white fish fillets
Bunch of thyme
Fresh chilli, chopped (as much as you like – depending on how hot you like your dishes)
Fresh garlic, chopped (see above!)
Tablespoon of smoked paprika (or more, depending on your tastes)
1 cup chopped leek
1 onion, chopped
Add onion, leek, garlic and chilli to saucepan over medium heat with two tablespoons of olive oil. Stir until onion and leek are browned.
Add tomatoes, fish stock and white wine. Simmer for 15 minutes, adding paprika and thyme.
Add fish and prawns, and cook for a further 4-6 minutes, or until fish and prawns are cooked through.
Serve with crusty white bread and a glass of white wine. Voila!
It inspired me to make my own bouillabaise. I searched the net for some recipes, and then adapted these to my own needs. I wanted a quick recipe (for a weeknight dinner) and I didn't want to use mussels, as I wasn't going to the seafood markets (and I don't really trust the mussels from Woolworth's!). Here is my recipe:
Easy-peasy bouillabaisse
Serves 4
Ingredients
800g tinned diced tomatoes
1 cup dry white wine
2 cups fish stock
300g raw prawns
300g white fish fillets
Bunch of thyme
Fresh chilli, chopped (as much as you like – depending on how hot you like your dishes)
Fresh garlic, chopped (see above!)
Tablespoon of smoked paprika (or more, depending on your tastes)
1 cup chopped leek
1 onion, chopped
Add onion, leek, garlic and chilli to saucepan over medium heat with two tablespoons of olive oil. Stir until onion and leek are browned.
Add tomatoes, fish stock and white wine. Simmer for 15 minutes, adding paprika and thyme.
Add fish and prawns, and cook for a further 4-6 minutes, or until fish and prawns are cooked through.
Serve with crusty white bread and a glass of white wine. Voila!
Monday, January 4
we all scream for icecream
Over at Good Living today, it's all about summer - and what says "summer" more than icecream? Matt Preston offers a lesson in "popsicology", explaining the history of icecream. (Who knew George Washington spent $200 on icecream in 1790? Not I.) Stephanie Clifford-Smith reckons she knows where to find the top ten gelato scoops in Sydney (my pick: Gelatomassi in Newtown, or just about anywhere on Norton St, Leichhardt). And Preston pops up again, showing us how to pick our kulfi from our kachang, our semifreddo from our sorbet. I always find it interesting that despite huge cultural divides and geographic differences, many cultures have similar recipes (burritos are to the Mexican what pancakes are to the Chinese; noodles for Japanese and pasta for Italians, etc) and icecream and its various cousins is no exception. Sign me up for some spoom!
One of my favourite food blogs, Stone Soup, is also riding the icecream wave, with a post on five ways to make icecream without an icecream maker. Useful stuff. I also love the look of Julie Goodwin's ricotta icecream in this month's issue of The Australian Women's Weekly. The recipe isn't online, so you'll have to check it out for yourself!
And speaking of icecream, Caliban and I took a trip to lovely lakeside Toronto (not the Canadian city, the quiet NSW town) after Christmas, where we indulged in a LOT of icecream. After a long day in the car (snaps to Caliban, who drove the entire way) we treated ourselves to lunch at Anacapri, an Italian restaurant on Brighton St. Lots of wine, a pizza, some bread and a delicious serving of chilli prawns later, we tottered over to the icecreamery and gorged on Norgen-Vasz icecream. Caliban was delighted with the country-style servings (read: the two scoops icecream were basically as big as his head) and promptly fell asleep after devouring the whole thing. Rather like a baby who only needs a bottle of milk to go under, you know?
Got any hot (or, er, cool) icecream hints from your kitchen or neighbourhood? Share them here.
And happy new year!
Lauren x
One of my favourite food blogs, Stone Soup, is also riding the icecream wave, with a post on five ways to make icecream without an icecream maker. Useful stuff. I also love the look of Julie Goodwin's ricotta icecream in this month's issue of The Australian Women's Weekly. The recipe isn't online, so you'll have to check it out for yourself!
And speaking of icecream, Caliban and I took a trip to lovely lakeside Toronto (not the Canadian city, the quiet NSW town) after Christmas, where we indulged in a LOT of icecream. After a long day in the car (snaps to Caliban, who drove the entire way) we treated ourselves to lunch at Anacapri, an Italian restaurant on Brighton St. Lots of wine, a pizza, some bread and a delicious serving of chilli prawns later, we tottered over to the icecreamery and gorged on Norgen-Vasz icecream. Caliban was delighted with the country-style servings (read: the two scoops icecream were basically as big as his head) and promptly fell asleep after devouring the whole thing. Rather like a baby who only needs a bottle of milk to go under, you know?
Got any hot (or, er, cool) icecream hints from your kitchen or neighbourhood? Share them here.
And happy new year!
Lauren x
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