finger licking good glass prints

otto ristorante is supposed to be one those places to see and/or be seen. thankfully i've already sponged off my barely visible chocolate stains which so rudely ambushed my senses on the cab ride here & temporarily abated my stomach pains with the promise of delicious food/wine & unparalleled company.

i'm not sure that's so relevant in the twilight of its john laws hedonistic days as i carefully manoeuvre myself between tables after the brisk catwalk up the pier to area 8 amongst the fashion week heavy with jimmy choos. luckily i'm wearing rainboots so my stride is more balanced than most. if not a little... less light. 

upon joining my lunchdate with caprioska at the ready, we peruse the wannabe but much portlier karl lagerfields nestled amongst bored bankers & PR moles on the finger wharf. and get down to the serious business of ordering food.

the sensible thing is to start with oysters. sydney rock, some naturale, some gently marinated with 10 year old balsamic & eschalots... perfect.

then he has the carpaccio di manzo. which looks amazing if you like sheer sliced calf, truffle oil, capers, parmesan & baby rocket. me? i'm all about the zucchini flowers a la fiori di zucchina al baccala. this is the third time i've had zuccini flowers in two weeks. one of my preferred seasons of the year. 

this dish is great & the panzella salad divine but i actually prefer my own. it's nice to be able to cook. yet equally nice not to buy groceries & have to clean. zucchini flowers need to be so light they can almost float like tempura feathers on a ricotta blown breeze. still the presentation does kick certain ass.

time ticks by. we eat more. he has the zucchini & i do another entree, pasta this time. which i managed to psych myself out about because the faux bolgonaise sauce with the strozzapreti artisan pasta is just too convincing & my brain can't reconcile calamari mince just is not technically meat. vegetarian phoney.

instead the patate arrosto [chat potatoes in olive oil with rosemary & thyme] became my friends but they were almost cold! had i taken photos too long with my trusty sidekick phone? i content myself to admiring the view of the low bright sun through my grubby finger-printed water glass. my very own. make mental note to use assigned cutlery. chat potatoes are not chips.

and move onto some bad ass dolci in this case the slezione di formaggi which is an incredible cheese plate. the term orgasm comes to mind. hence the smile on my face. noone else seemed to notice. time for tea.

...and a walk back through the gardens trailing the setting sun behind the city to chase trains & return to my hottie [hot water bottle for the uninitiated]. PMT girl kills noone today.


otto ristorante
cowper wharf road
woollomooloo
[02] 9368 7488

temple of chuang mu

neil perry's latest joy-striking string to the bow for any eastern love deity's heart is spice temple. located beneath bligh street in the CBD [right under rockpool bar & grill], this oriental oasis will appease the most fussiest of cult goddesses.

overseen & beautifully crafted with meticulous care by old friend [ex longrain] the ever lovely crimson-framed baci moore, the expansive basement at the base of the stairs solicits secret fu manchu-like corners where dark mystery shrouds the mixed corporate crowd who visibly lurk beneath the compartmentalised shadows. but stay awhile & marvel at the william gibson-esque street door which harkens of cyberpunk neo-tokyo in heavenly waves of silken eroticism before making the descent into this modern day opium den where food is sacrilegious porn.

no province is left unturned and scant attention & research with visits to sichuan, yunnan, hunan, jianxi, guangxi and xinjiang results in a traditionalist philosophical approach blending exquisite & distinctly specific produce into a distinctly modern yet harmonious fusion which is a one way road to the altar of the deliciously divine with red signposts en route to highlight the spicier routes.

under baci's gentle direction we chose a simple path & started with pickles: cucumbers with smashed garlic & ginger. despite the implied violence of the dish the overall result was a delicious subtlety that i could never have guessed that any garlic had been abused in the making of this dish. somewhere after we ate stir fried scallops on a bed of minature square velvet noodles & chilli paste.

steamed flathead, jiangxi style with pickled mustard greens and turnip with chilli followed as a reluctant compromise to my ubiquitous lunch date john as his palate isn't quite as fiery as mine. this came to complement the piece de resistance which was the incredible hot pot of fresh shiitake, oyster, enoki and wild mushrooms, yunnan style which was cooked at the table before us.

i ordered this dish in homage to new friend ron, whom i met recently in sydney for the possible worlds canadian film festival, when he was here to promote his wonderful documentary know your mushrooms [these shrooms are for you, and fantastic they are]. this dish was highlighted red but i didn't find it particularly spicy at all so next time i'm definitely exploring the more vibrant components of the menu. and there will be plenty of those occasions.

i should say something about the wine -- there's lots of them [list of 100 on revolution], the chinese astrological cocktail menu [being a monkey i ordered one, it was delicious but the snake won the eye candy award]. then the complimentary rickshaws that we were treated to with perfect glaced cherries & lychee reflected rum lapping the rim of ice-filled tumblers but then there was dessert and that's why there are so many photos & other eye candy today... even the green tea was sublime.

the goddess spent, the people can rule for another day.

to the ruler, the people are heaven; to the people, food is heaven - chinese proverb

spice temple from punk monk propaganda on vimeo.

magic mushroom bowl from punk monk propaganda on vimeo.