A recent evening spent at Quay Restaurant has left me convinced that this is, right now, Sydney fine dining at it’s very best. Faultless service, gorgeous views, and the food, oh the food!

We start with an appetiser of salmon, roe and cauliflower cream in a shotglass. Delicious, and a great indication of things to come.

Next, a Sea Pearls dish, which is one of the most interesting I’ve ever encountered. It consists of three balls on the plate – one is tuna sashimi topped with what looks like miniature grapes but is actually what the restaurant calls “green caviar”, a special seaweed sourced for them by a microbiologist. The second is a lump of brandade, covered by tiny individual drops of egg white. The last is a ball of glassy jelly, like a large eyeball, filled with caviar and sliced pearl meat. By description alone, it might sound a little incoherent, and the smokiness of the jelly verges on being overpowering, but the dish works wonderfully together as a play of textures and flavours, and I love every bit of it. We also try the Crisp Confit of Rare Breed Suckling Pig Belly, served with green lipped abalone, cuttlefish and handmade silken tofu, which I’ve been assured was very good, seeing as I was paying too much attention to my own dish, to try it.

For the main, I can’t resist the very luxurious sounding Mud Crab Congee even though it’s listed on the entrees section. And while it might seem weird to pay $36 for rice porridge, it turns out to be everything you’d want congee to be, and more. Underneath the cap of buttery foam hides fleshy, tender pieces of mud crab and broken bits of rice, swimming in a very tasty broth. B has the Crisp Skinned Murray Cod which is perfectly cooked, and he even borrows my spoon to scrape the final dregs of sauce from his plate.

At this point, I’m almost full, but push on we must, for the sake of research. The Caramelised Raspberry Millefeuille is a two storey crunchy, fruity, creamy affair with just the right balance of tartness and sweetness. It disappears before I know it, while B makes short work of his White Peach dessert. The combination of jelly, granita and ice-cream makes for a sweet and refreshing end to our visit.

By the way, Steve, you had better come with us on our return visit, because they have Chateau Pinsan by the glass on the dessert wine list!

Quay Restaurant
Overseas Passenger Terminal
The Rocks
Sydney 2000

In the spirit of “read the book, now see the movie”, I’ve got the cookbook (Two’s Cooking by Jane and Jeremy Strode), and now I’ve finally visited the restaurant. Bistrode, in Surry Hills, is an unpretentious and incredibly welcoming place serving very tasty, deceptively simple food.

If like us, you go with some friends, start by telling them where Bistrode is exactly, so that you don’t have to wait while Calamari walks his asparagus legs hundreds of metres down the street, more than amply passing the restaurant. Once seated, and menus perused, you might choose to order the refreshing Cucumber Gazpacho; tangy, with big juicy chunks of prawn and “ice-cubes” of tomato, or the Crispy Pig’s Ear Salad with Pickled Egg. The slices of pig’s ear were so delicious; I felt a bit like Homer, eating a big bag of pork crackling. The dish as a whole was possibly a little too vinegary for me, but those porcine windcatchers were unbelievably good, I tell ya! B had the Tomato, Bread and White Anchovy Salad, which was very good as well.

The Wagyu Corned Beef dish B had as a main reminded me that I had promised a bunch of friends a corned beef dinner awhile back,.. oh, maybe two years ago,.. and still haven’t honoured the promise. This dish, and the Lamb Rump with Green Sauce, are just the types of dishes I dream of serving to friends. Elegant, simple, and packed with flavour.

Onto the desserts, I really enjoyed the Blueberry and Gin Soup with Lemon Pannacotta – so much so that I didn’t bother much with pestering the others for a taste of their desserts. Calamari’s Honey Tart with Peanut Butter ice-cream looked great, and I’m sure it tasted great too – maybe Calamari will let us know some time – but I was too busy spooning blueberries into my mouth to ask. B had the Clafoutis which came piping hot, studded with plum pieces and bits of chocolate, and with a jug of pouring cream on the side.

We were surprised to find by about 11pm, that we were the only ones left in the restaurant. So K downed his coffee, and out we tumbled onto the street, bellies happy and full.

Bistrode
478 Bourke St
Surry Hills 2010

I have seen a grown man lick a slice of cake so that no one else will be tempted to steal it. “Don’t let anyone touch my cake while I’m out,” he says. “Tell them I’ve licked it. See?” He presses his tongue against the creamy topping, like an octopus’ tentacle claiming it’s prize, then out the door he dashes. I work with crazy people.

But the lure of cake does that to most of us. Especially chocolate cake.. which I’ve just realised that I haven’t made in awhile. One of the most comforting chocolate treats is a chocolate-loaded flourless cake by Jill Dupleix, who in turn had enhanced an Elizabeth David recipe. The chocolate I usually use is Callebaut, occasionally Valrhona (when I feel like splashing out), but sometimes also Lindt 70%, which is readily available at the local supermarket and is my great standby when I’ve run out of the other stuff. So usually any of my recipes should read : First, grab your handbag and dash to the shops for some Lindt because you’ve forgotten that there aren’t any more Callebaut buttons in the house.

Today I thought I would try something different. This cake is a combination of old and new : an old favourite chocolate cake recipe by Rose Levy Beranbaum, filled with a salted caramel recipe from a newly acquired book that my brother gave me for Christmas.

Rose’s cake is called Chocolate Domingo, named after Placido Domingo. It is an incredibly moist, chocolatey and fudgey cake, that really is very satisfying eaten unadorned. But in the spirit of trying something different, I decided to cut it into individual portions, slather the innards with salty caramel, and top the cakes with a shiny glaze.

To paraphrase Adam Ford, I kiss this cake and make it mine.

Rose Levy Beranbaum’s Chocolate Domingo Cake :

42g Dutch cocoa powder
160g sour cream
2 eggs
1 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
156g sifted cake flour
200g castor sugar
1/4 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
200g unsalted butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 180’C.

In a medium bowl whisk together the cocoa, sour cream, eggs and vanilla until smooth.

In a large mixing bowl combine all the remaining dry ingredients and mix on low speed for 30 seconds to blend. Add the butter and half the cocoa mixture. Mix on low speed until the dry ingredients are moistened. Increase to medium speed and beat for 1 1/2 minutes to aerate and develop the cake’s structure. Scrape down the sides. Gradually add the remaining cocoa mixture in two batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition to incorporate the ingredients and strengthen the structure. Scrape down the sides.

Scrape the batter into the prepared tin (23cm diameter greased and lined springform tin) and smooth the surface with a spatula. The tin will be about half full. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes or until a tester inserted near the centre comes out clean and the cake springs back when pressed lightly in the centre.

Let the cake cool in the tin on a rack for 10 minutes. Loosen the sides with a small metal spatula and invert onto a greased wire rack. Reinvert so that the top is up and cool completely before wrapping airtight.

(More chocolate treats over at SHF #27, hosted by David Lebovitz.)