a gold star for traffic congestion

recently whilst returning to sydney from a spell away in my secret mountain escape, we were unexpectedly marooned in goulburn for several hours after coming upon a severely blocked freeway. traffic was obviously not budging so with the benefits of my tonka toy 4WD unconventional, err, circumvention of the gridlock enabled an easyish return into ram town.

for those that don't know some of the great delights of goulburn, the rural inland dryland mecca of NSW, it hosts an oversized sheep as some kind of bizarre totem to agricultural prowess. by this token there should really be one in the major port ie. lyttleton, of new zealand standing proud like the grand lady of liberty in new york to welcome arrivals. anyway, i digress.

many hours were tediously killed in this rural anti-hub, an australian counterpart for douglas coupland's shampoo planet, an exposition of mindless mid west misanthropia. not just for gen X.

goulburn is a parched place crippled during drought time by extreme water restrictions. disenchanted youths rev up and down the main drag in hot rods & specced up utes in a dead-end town overshadowed by a maximum security prison, the national police college, a ghost abattoir and a shoe factory with operations long since migrated offshore.

on the back steets in the parks framed by brown grass, right wing family first conventions crackle alive with sausage sizzles on a sunday afternoon as aussie flags fly asunder even on an overcast day.

on auburn street the renovated mall goes off. after loading up on big macs & zesty salads, bottle-bronzed, powder-puffed girls with ironed hair waddle into supre basics. on australia day wknd the store boasted a full window display of a vast range of ozzie ozzie ozzie, & southern cross T shirts & singlets. there's nothing more australian.

after catching up on the various overheard goss in local bars which increasingly fill up with wayward travelers deigning to wait out the pile-up with rumours of overturned trucks on the freeway & no end in sight, we succumb to an extended stay & look for dinner. there's only so many hours one can spend in a pub when there's still another two which could become five or more to go.

enter the golden star. a very brave move by both the proprieters and my fellow shaolin warrior diner. down the road is the remnants of another chinese restaurant which bears the apparent scars of fire-bombing. on arrival this diamond in the rough was a morgue but the service was warm without being suspiciously desperate.

funnily enough by the time we left it was fast filling up with like-minded frustrated nomads, sharing tales between tables in hushed whispers of banked up traffic woes. we just shut up, soaked up the ambience with our fellow pioneers, enjoy the kitsch imagery, baby pink folded napkins, vegetarian friendly menu [featuring a sad but woefully necessary "australian section" starring T bone steak & chips] and the food, which was actually pretty good!

mostly we felt thankful that we weren't stuck out on the motorway immobile without the basics of food water to help alleviate the boredom of extreme traffic congestion which often precedes road rage.

i am reminded of all this because this week NSW roads minister says "fur will fly" after a major traffic delay on the F3. motorists were stuck for up to twelve hours after a fuel tanker overturned and blocked the flow and contingency plans failed with a capital F.

thousands of people stranded for hours in their cars, isolated without news, water or food. it's scary how fast everything can break down and how unlikely heroes are made, jobs are lost, epic tales are told.

once more yesterday i sat in an environment where i was privy secondhand to people relating their experiences to strangers placed in a common bond which broke the unspoken barrier of public non-communication.

and it made me think of the unlikely little shining star which fell off the flag in the town of the golden fleece that day & saved us against the flow.

golden star

chinese restaurant

151 auburn St
goulburn NSW 2580
(02) 4821 0388

floating flower

spice temple's green tea keeps friday insanity at bay.

delicious deco delight

rockpool bar & grill... 1930's style shouldn't be compromised by 21st century rhetoric. let the pictures impart the heritage style with a classic neil perry flavoured twist.

back alley swish

what i love about a really good restaurant sans shine far far away from the fray is like a shared secret they are passed from one special friend to another. this is how i was introduced to sydney madang, hidden like a trove of treasure clustered amongst the vertical skyline in an overlooked alley off pitt st in the middle of the CBD. and so it is passed on.

nestled right under the nose of the city akin to its authentic seoul counterparts where the complimentary pan chan juxtaposes the soft urined concrete surrounds humbly scattered with real life practicalities of bins & waiting stools with such an injection of colour, texture & flavour that the urban air blend is perfect. just dirty enough. more kim chi?

after ordering the requisite local beer, hite, which looks eerily like the brewery has multiple products reaching into the oral hygiene market with a one size fits all branding campaign [gotta love the gagging for a wide mouthed smile stripe & changeable temperature indicator icon in cool minty blue].

next up is the serious business of food ordering & there is no possible way we are going past the seafood & vegetable with udon shabu shabu. thankfully we are an easily convinced two but a third could easily be accommodated with the feast that ensues. the gas barbecue is ritualistically delivered & turned on. then efficiently replaced when it runs out of steam...

there's no going back now as the plates of food arrive: 1 x vegetables & several asian varieties of mushrooms [hi ron], 1 x plate of seafood [mussels, octopus, calamari, scallops, prawns] and 1x dish of udon with fresh shallots to pile in at the end.

this is interactive dining at its best. we tong ingredients in a swish swish [literal japanese translation of shabu shabu which describes the mix action] motion with wonder into the broth as we salivate in anticipation of what comes next. once the glass noodles are clear the pace whips into a frenzy as the melting hotpot of goodness permeates to die for edible smoke [now with extra spice]. at 53.00 AUD this dish is sublime decadence & extremely good value for shared food [we don't quite finish it but loosen belts trying].

we finish by cleaning our teeth on another bottle of beer leaving the comfort of the back streets to sparkle & shine our pearly [w]hites back out amongst the bustle. if the neon signs were in kanji/hanja i could almost believe we're not in sydney anymore dorothy.

sydney madang restaurant

371A pitt st

sydney

+61 [02] 9264 7020

fullhouse over flush

nestled behind trees above the peak hour flush of pitt street's traffic in the heart of sydney's CBD lies hidden the fullhouse. a fusion restaurant serving up korean & japanese food, it's a delightful and cheap way of food fixing whilst enjoying a sapporo as errant suits pile into the arthouse hotel opposite. i can actually afford to eat here...

injecting a nano dash of chill into ubiquitous city stress; it's a secret one stop shop for putting an agoraphobic panic attack on ice, separating the chaff below from the miso flavoured wheat & offering filtered voyeurism with complete oriental back alley escape in a precinct filled with way too much personality free starch & highly lacquered shine. you won't find it in the well beaten SMH good food guided track anytime soon, which is why it's so good.

fleshed out photo menu AND it's fully licensed! what's not to love?

私はとてもよくある。 ありがとう。

fullhouse fusion restaurant

level 1, 238 pitt st

sydney

think i'm turning japanese

disclaimer: it's me not you. the primary reason there isn't the usual amount of succulent imagery of my free lunch record is not because the food at kobe jones is anything short of a visual kaleidescope in colour & texture.

currently i'm in default mode wielding my N95 phone in camera position number one & although i stubbornly love it dearly in the face of an iPhone pandemic it has certain DOF inadequacies. depth of field for the uninitiated. yep. read: the photos mainly look like shit. NOKIA are yet to build a macro function let alone a manual focus.

enough of technical difficulties which plague the very core of my being & back to the food...

in another of those east meets west traditions maybe where mr kobe married miss jones, IDK, the restaurant combines californian & japanese influences into a palatable mecca of mayonnaise meets wasabi. we're all too familiar in the one stop shop version at the local sushi train but when grazing at king st wharf one is guaranteed of a cut or two above the generic coloured plate vendor.

everything ticked the boxes without smashing them to oblivion although the crowd pleaser had to be the "get off on our rocks" [and oh how i did] where in a variation of the teppen yaki tradition seafood was ordered & brought out to the table then cooked on a piping hot block of stone. just add a cube of butter and stir...

as she skilfully manipulated the fish atop the granite, charlotte advised us that the stones are oven bound for the entire day in preparation stacked in piles at 300 degrees centograde waiting for their moment to be unleashed on to the hungry mob. and there was... the restaurant was full. our scallops, salmon & cubes of tuna ultimately seared to supreme excellence.

if i'd been wearing pants at this stage i would've undone my belt & continued but sadly my karen millen dress zip was most unforgiving so um, there was literally no room left for dessert, only a very straight back & tiny breaths. if only i'd brought a corset. i blame the mushroom medley tobanyaki which threw a selection of exotic mushrooms into an oven baked dish with cream... dear god, yes. HT to ron mann.

still the scattered oyster shooters in sake, perfectly salted edamame & sushi platter were also excellent. in an ideal world i'd want more spice with that but perfection is all evasive & subjective isn't it? sitting out looking through the mysterious opaque view of the wharf filtered through blowing transparent blinds, it's hard to imagine that it's that far out of reach.

perfectly on quay

if these pictures do not paint the thousands of superlatives which would embrace the quay dining experience then i may as well drown in opiate induced bliss now. buried in painkillers, it's hard to do justice to the crisp sublime poetry which is the detailed delicacy of quay. that peter gilmore is an artist of the highest order is not up for debate.

winning on crowd pleasing stakes this has to be a mandatory stopover on the sydney visitor dining circuit with perfect harbour views, edible haute couture which soothes all the senses & excite the nerves simultaneously delivered with the soft invisibility defining the perfect white table-clothed environment which juxtapose the mirrored curves beyond the glasses walls to the opera house beyond over the deep blue sea.

i'm only sorry when i burst my lunch bubble at the quay i did so not aware that i'd crushed my spine en route location scouting whilst coming off second best with an accursed tree & the experience was marred by shooting sensations up my legs and arms as my back began to scream unanswered for attention as i distractedly chowed down on my free lunch. needless to say i still finished my glistening plate of magical sea pearls before hitting up the x-ray booth...

there'll undoubtedly be a next time to savour the perfect hospitality & orgasmic food. my only gripe: as a non-meat eater i was severely shepherded by the menu & would have preferred to have more choice. what i did experience however was unquestionably divine. call me a straw divider, and while you're there please also order another of those nirvana sent desserts...

secret hangover fix

meet the italian bowl: our trusty neighbourhood restorative all day/night lunch spot for times where delicious low-frill carbohydrates need to be delivered fast unto one's plate before the wrath of the night before threatens to explode all over an empty table. BYO berocca.

this is my number one comfort culinary crash pad. a mediterranean mcdonalds but where the food actually tastes good & you can tell where it once came from [probably not a brazilian rain forest]. funnily enough there is a supersize option but i've never needed to go there.

the penne arrabiata [$10.00] is a stock favourite & the prawns with garlic, chilli & wine in linguine [$14.00] are sublime yet simple. this unassuming hole in the wall also does a bunch of other dishes apart from pasta but i've never managed to go beyond the risotto. the risotto was good but i'm 100% addicted to the instant carbs on demand.

newtown offers a plethora of fast friendly food joints but our second home "the pasta bowl" as we call it, is a high rotation spot where feeding two hungry but picky locals & leaving us full, content and glowing like content cheshires for under 25 bucks total is a tough call even in this neck of the woods.

the wonderful staff banter is all the dessert one usually needs but the tiramisu is worth an exploratory foray if you've got the stomach of a delicate ox.

the italian bowl

255 king st, newtown

tel: +61 [02] 9516 0857

small footprint, huge vibe

last night i braved the 90 minute "no reservation" queue in a city full of packed restaurants & made it back to kylie kwong's divine hole in the wall: billy kwong. the wait wasn't altogether unpleasant because almost directly across the road my date & i slowly made our way through the low-key wine list at the humming bar come bistro which is the dolphin bar. ye olde stomping ground from my previous incarnation as a local.

by the time we received the maitre d's call, the night had lost it's not quite wintry edge & we were ready to embrace it firmly. i was FAMISHED. it all started with the moreish sea-salted peanuts & delicious billy kwong branded biodynamic margaret river merlot [which explains why my head is in three-toed sloth gear this morning]...

sadly for us by the time we were seated the restaurant was well into 2nd setting mode which meant that the infamous crispy skinned duck was no longer available. this did not affect me at all, in fact i was secretly happy that limits of control meant that perhaps there were still some ducks left flying amok somewhere outside the wonderful mahogany cupboard lined walls of this magical boutique space which is somewhat akin to C S lewis's wardrobe [the walls magically come alive when you least expect them to]. still my dinner date was disappointed, so i feigned concern & pointed out another dish i'd like to participate in which i could actually eat but sadly our food choices are completely incompatible & seafood is a dirty word in his vernacular. so onward we strode like independent culinary soliders & prepared to dessimate the menu separately.

billy kwong like most chinese eating houses' fare is really designed to share. in the gorgeously intimate environment in the narrow shopfront, one would require extraordinary coordination to be able to share with more than two people at a table as the tiny space has really been milked in terms of maximising bums per tables per square metre. flailing elbows are not the go. still it's fun & i enjoyed helping out the neighbouring table with fallen chopsticks & red wine on shirt spill tips when uncharacteristically enough it all happened at the adjacent table rather my own. separate but together.

what can i say? my dish was enormous so i stopped at the stir-fried mussels with homemade chilli sauce and black beans. accompanied by steamed organic jasmine rice & steamed greens with organic tamari which made boutique grocer fresh look limp, the end result was visual, textural & tastebud heaven. my date had red braised caramelised organic pork belly with chinese coleslaw which is probably the worst thing anyone opposite me in such close proximity could ever order. needless to say there was no kissing for dessert. still he said it was worth it.

what i've always loved about kylie kwong's cooking is the deceptive rustic simplicity that her food has. in the end this talented woman knows that produce is key. with an exclusive loyalty towards organic energetic ingredients, this makes the task of a skilled master in the kitchen yielding an understated yet highly crowd-pleasing successful result that much easier.

ethical eating is the old wholefoods wave all dressed/grown up in the urban jungle sans dreadlocks. billy kwong was the first carbon neutral restaurant in NSW: it's obviously sustainable because there's never a time i go past where that lovely little darkened room driven by the murmur of appreciative conversation & the soft clatter of chopsticks is not full to brimming.

karma... karma... kammadhenu

boy george wasn't in sight on arrival at this newtown cultural club despite the fact that after his earlier prison stint this year he has been reported to be living off primarily organic asian based foods in an assault on former cocaine & other scintillating addictions. local rent boys have been much happier as a result.

however on leaving the hub of king st on saturday avo into this indo-aryan mecca, no staff were visible either which resulted in an ad hoc DIY approach which ended up working relatively well.

kammadhenu is not exactly fine dining but oozes no-frills authenticity. ky & i aren't terribly shy especially when famished. the magic "licensed" sign & spiced aromas had lured us in. noveaux mohammeds, we went directly to the mountain, grabbed menus & a sample of the extensive fine german beer selection in the fridge & proceeded to drink whilst perusing the menu.

the restaurant is a fusion of multiple asian cuisines: indian, sri lankan & malaysian. bee-lining to the curries we ordered dhal, mixed vegetable, steamed rice with an order of tandoori prawns which proved to be the beginning of what will undoubtedly be a long & illustrious love affair.

the prawns are definitely on the highly-vied-for list of best prawns in town across the cuisine style board. at 8.00AUD per entree, um, they have to be easily the best value. we're not in the CBD now dorothy. we immediately ordered more and once again delicately cut the odd remaining orange crustacean in half, each of us savouring the last possible morsel, a memory of the flavour dancing on our collective tongues. this is a dish that leaves all old maids for dead.

the curries were small but delicious & we're definitely coming back for more. there's dosai & roti to add to the experience base. already my stomach screams in withdrawal symptoms with a new found coveting love for tandoori prawns served on metal accompanied with bubbling bier drunk from a small metal cup. this addiction must be sated earlier rather than later. it might just be today.