The contents of this blog are matters of opinion formed over one more visits. There has been some artistry applied and metaphors and similes should not necessarily be taken literally.
Every so often I try and have a meal out and my body just won’t let me. It happened at Moxhe, and it happened again at Gimlet. This particular episode of bad food bolus obstruction sensation was precipitated by my downing of a large volume of psyllium husk and probably not enough water just prior to the meal. My gastroenterologist friend CJP thinks it might be eosinophilic oesophagitis, but my actual gastroenterologist hasn’t had a chance to weigh in yet.
Let me therefore treat you to a description of our meal at Gimlet at Cavendish House, mostly through the eyes of someone watching my girlfriend eat.
We started with some raw albacore tuna with compressed cucumber, sorrel, and vinaigrette ($36). The menu lists a similar dish with bonito instead of albacore, and I wonder if this was an on-the-day substitution to suit whatever was available at the fish market. In general the compression of fruits and vegetables is foreign to me, though I did not believe this particular version of cucumber to have been compressed as completely as it could have been by, for example, the hydraulic press channel. Overall I didn’t have the best impression of this dish, I think because as humans my partner and I prefer bluefin and yellowfin tuna greatly over albacore, which has a bit more of a floury texture than we would like. Rather than being the star of the show, the albacore tuna here was more of a vessel for the good flavours of the vinaigrette.
My enjoyment of the Half Southern Rock Lobster, wood-roasted in saffron rice with bisque sauce ($150) was greatly diminished by my weakened physical state. My impression of this, from what little I had, was that it was absolutely quite delicious, surprisingly big (though it was a solid $150), with beautiful rice that had a bit of crispiness around the edges, a little similar to claypot rice but I’m sure more similar to other rices from other cultures that I’ve not yet experienced. The capsicum dip was not really necessary with such a wonderful intrinsic flavour of the seafood and rice. My partner absolutely demolished this, almost exclusively on her own.
I did not have a single bite of these kestrel potatoes with buttermilk and caper dressing ($16), but my potatolord partner did not like them, so that I think is quite telling.
We enjoyed this gelato ($17), with rhubarb, jasmine rice and candied ginger. The flavours were interesting, and in a different lifetime could’ve been served in a chicken-rice themed degustation as a palate cleanser.
OVERALL THOUGHTS: We had not a cheap meal at Gimlet at Cavendish House, with the only true standout dish being the wood-roasted lobster. That said, that expensive-ass lobster was actually extremely delicious, and I wouldn’t hesitate recommending it to someone with the money to burn. I would suggest that you call ahead to ensure there is lobster availability, and also avoid the other things we ordered so that you may happen on some other smaller dishes that are better than what we had.
It took about six months of heavy targeted ads on social media for me to succumb to ordering LeTAO’s made-in-Japan cheesecakes.
The first thing that struck me about the LeTAO cheesecakes were their size. Even though their size and weight are explicitly stated on the website, I clearly did not pay close attention to this as both cheesecakes that I ordered were much smaller than I had imagined, especially given their premium price point.
It was a matter of quality over quantity, however, as these cheesecakes, though expensive were quite good. The melon double seasonal limited cheesecake ($40.99) had a pleasant mouthfeel, not too sweet taste, with a hint of melon flavouring. It was well enjoyed by the entire family, who are usually more used to Savoy’s taro cake but were forced by me to try something new.
The Parfait D’or Fromage ($37.99), a rectangular cheesecake of also very small proportions contained a mixture of camembert, soured cream cheese and mascarpone. The camembert definitely added a dimension of strangeness to the cake that the melon cake did not have, though none was more strange than its dimensions. It should be noted that the promotional pictures on the LeTAO website feature this particular cheesecake being served on a wooden board, with nothing of a known size to compare it to.
THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS These LeTAO were pretty good, classically not too sweet given their East Asian origins, and definitely an interesting change up from the classic sponge cake that might rule your family traditions. Their price point and small size are however quite challenging, and important to consider for anyone planning to feed more than a few people.
I’ve enjoyed Black Bear BBQ ever since my first visit during internship; back whilst I was living and working in the Deep West. Their little restaurant in Blacktown’s industrial district was my first introduction to Texas-style BBQ, and even though it took a few attempts to try and go (their opening hours were very strange at the time) I finally managed.
My first bearlesque adventure in 2018 was with their Hungry Bear Breakfast Box, featuring big slabs of their beef brisket, pork belly, a hot link, two sunny side up eggs, and some baked beans. My memory fails me (it’s been three years), so enjoy the pretty picture instead. This item is no longer available on their menu.
I recently had the opportunity to enjoy a quick takeaway meal just as the Delta variant of COVID-19 struck Sydney, which is almost funny looking back at it and writing this in the early days of the Omicron strain.
These tater tots ($6) started off pretty strongly. Freshly fried and seasoned with parmesan and rosemary salt, each little tot came with a nice crunch and a warm centre. Unfortunately, as is often the case with deep fried starchy and cheesy foods, as these tots cooled down they started to taste a little bitter. Unavoidable.
The O.GBurger ($14), not to be confused with an O&G Burger, was pretty good. The beef brisket patty was moist with a good mouthfeel, while the salad added a good degree of freshness to balance out the fatty patty and associated cheese. It’s a good thing that this burger is essentially the same as the cheeseburger but with extra salad, as any other differences would have meant us ordering both.
The Hungry Bear Box ($32) is designed to satisfy not only a hungry, but also a peckish* black bear. While you can order Black Bear BBQ’s boxes with a choice of either beef brisket or pork belly for a slightly lower price, truly hungry bears are able to experience a tasting of both, along with a jalapeno and cheese hot link (sausage), some potato crsps, pickles, and coleslaw. Both the pork and beef were tender and juicy, though both my partner and I preferred the brisket over the pork. The hot link is quite tasty and nice, and at $4 a pop are great as a stand-alone or add-on order.
COMMENTS Black Bear BBQ is a true friend to bearkind. I’d recommend every (non-vegetarian) bear that every there was to gather here.
I have been informed that the word peckish does not describe a bear who wants a little bit of everything, merely a bear who is a little hungry but not fully hungry. I refuse to look this up, and what I don’t know can’t hurt me.
Navigating and parking in the tiny Inner West streets is one of my least favourite things to do in Sydney, but an unavoidable experience if one wishes to drive to Erskineville’s Imperial Hotel’s weekly drag bingo night. While I could attempt to write about the activities and entertainment of the night, I fear that I would be underqualified to do so and must therefore refrain. I will tell you about the food instead, paid for by one of my senior colleagues.
My boss was pretty sad about these heirloom tomatoes with preserved lemon ($12). They are exactly as pictured – about one or maybe two tomatoes cut up into slices topped with little slivers of lemon. In their defence, they were extremely healthy.
The Parmigiano-reggiano ($10) also made my boss sad. It is also exactly as imagined. Also fit my macros so no complaints from me.
I thought that the Prawn pizza ($26) with san marzano tomato, garlic, chili and parsley was a bit light on flavour, but overall not bad. The ratio of prawn to pizza was quite reasonable though not above and beyond, and the flavours were enjoyable if a little mild for my taste.
The Salumi pizza ($26) with San marzano tomato, salami, ‘nduja, italian sausage, fior di latte was really good. I think I probably have a bit of bias for pizzas with salami or ‘nduja, as it’s rare for me to meet such a meaty and spicy pizza and not like it. Each bite of this pizza was an explosion of taste, owing to the good distribution of toppings throughout the pie. The italian sausage was moist and juicy, and the ‘nduja great for that extra kick of spice. This was a pizza done well.
This is a woodfired bread ($10) with extra virgin olive oil that I didn’t eat.
This is a margherita pizza ($18) that was on the wrong side of the table for me to eat. I could not reach it, but I was very happy with the salumi pizza right in front of me.
COMMENTS Some of the pizza was quite good, but I suspect it’s not their top attraction.
The first time I visited Frankie’s was on the 4th of July 2017. My friend and colleague, former NYC paramedic and all-round great guy CKM had told us that it was the best New York style pizza he’d ever had in Australia, and brought us along for a slice after a long day of running the annual convention for this large-ish student organisation that we were all a part of. I must admit that this was before I really got into eating food for the sake of eating food. My concept of a good pizza back in 2017 was probably a Domino’s pizza customised online to substitute salt and pepper for chicken, and olive oil for prawns, all ordered with a coupon to boot, and so I really didn’t appreciate my first run in with Frankie’s. I didn’t know or understand what to expect from “New York style pizza”, with its tasteful scarcity of toppings , and I also didn’t love being carded just to pick up a slice of pizza, or the process of ordering at a dual purpose food and beverage bar.
Fast forward five years and my partner and I found ourselves at Frankie’s (or rather in a queue outside Frankie’s) after a nice and wholesome day soaking in local culture at the Other Art Fair and the opening of the modern art portion of the Art Gallery of NSW (this unnecessary level of detail about our day has been added for the purpose of future juxtaposition). We spent about an hour in line, against my will, staying only because we found out that it would be their second last Sunday in business ever, and that they were in the middle of some debaucherous event that apparently happened every six weeks and would never ever happen again.
We eventually made our way to the front of the queue and were ushered inside, our IDs embarrassingly ready but unnecessary in our relative middle-age. The patronage of Frankie’s that night was clearly split between two categories – 95% big tiddy goth GFs, metalheads and sexual deviants, and 5% button up Asians there for a slice. As the only Asians in line during our hour outside it was nice to see a few more people who looked as out of place as us on the inside.
The ordering experience was much the same as in 2017, but probably worse because it was a really busy night. As somewhat of an introvert I’ve always hated ordering drinks at a bar, and this situation was somehow even worse as even though I had no interest in alcohol I still had to do the same fight of trying to make eye contact with one of two guys whilst there were like twenty other people around me at any given time trying to do the same. I don’t know what the best answer to this is, and perhaps this isn’t such a problem on a normal volume night, but perhaps webapp orders or a separate queue for food would’ve been the way.
Finally, after four paragraphs you could’ve safely skipped, comes the food review. We’ll start with the pepperoni ($7/slice), which as with all pizzas available by the slice at Frankie’s was $7 for a pretty decent angle (my visual protractor estimates maybe 75 degrees?) or $1 a slice between 4PM-6PM (kicking ourselves for not going in when we passed the place on our way to the Art Gallery rather than the way back, would’ve saved heaps of time on the queue too). This was honestly a pretty good slice. I’ve expanded my pizza sensibilities and serum LDL greatly since my initial visit to Frankie’s in 2017, and am glad to report that I can actually appreciate pizza that isn’t packed to the square centimetre with toppings now. This was a pretty standard slice of pepperoni pizza, but what wasn’t standard was the hot honey on top, which added a tinge of balanced sweetness to the saltiness and pepperoni spice that really rounded it all out nicely. Just great.
The margherita ($7) was fine, though not really to the level of top quality Neapolitan margheritas I’ve had. Understanding that there’s a small component of luck of the draw when you order a single slice of pizza rather than entire pie, I just think there could’ve been more than the edge wilt of a basil leaf on a slice of this size. It was also a very tepid slice, which was a bit sad given the relatively high turnover rate of their oven, and things could’ve just been a bit better overall. The temperature and lack of leaf of this pizza did highlight the dough, which was not my favourite dough, but also not bad. I think this is really due to a difference in New York style doughs compared to the Neapolitan doughs that I prefer, with this dough having the characteristic higher strength, but sadly also being a bit more textured at the point of chew.
The sausage pizza ($7) with roasted fennel was hot out of the oven, and great in every capacity. There was lots of cheese, lots of flavour, and actually having it to order meant that the base was also yummier and less of a hard board than in the margherita. The fact that customers do have to occasionally wait at the bar for their less popular pizzas to be cooked means that anyone else ordering drinks or food doesn’t get that up-front real estate in front of the bartender. It’s all really the same problem.
The anchovies pizza ($7) was initially forgotten by our bartender, though this was quickly remedied when reminded. It was a delicious slice that was full of flavour, delicious bursting cherry tomatoes, and anchovies that were not too salty and just present enough to impart a great sense of umami. It’s a shame my partner did not want any of it.
I think that all in all the food was pretty good. $7 a slice is a reasonable price to pay for the huge slices of pizza on offer, and though $1 a slice is even better, it is clearly more of a loss leader than anything else. There are a lot of things that I think could’ve made Frankie’s a better restaurant but would’ve have probably come at the cost of making it a worse bar, and therefore worse overall for the 95% of patrons who were there not only to eat a slice but also to get pissed and watch a guy get holes drilled into his forearms with a power tool on stage, have gigantic hooks placed within them, and then use those hooks and the power of pulley physics to suspend his wife up off the stage via a set of pre-installed subcutaneous hooks on her chest wall. In exchange for posting these photos the performers High Tea Suspensions (instagram) did ask for a shoutout so that you too may watch in horror at their next show or even take part, if you wish. Medically I cannot condone that.
That slight digression aside, I should’ve become a highly paid efficiency consultant because I have a bunch of things to suggest to improve the food side of the business. These would’ve mostly included separation of the food and beverage businesses, possibly a separate queue for entry to the premises for pizza-only patrons, a separate ordering system be it a POS specifically for food, or an online web-app or ticketed ordering system, or even a window for takeaway pizza orders so that truly time poor nerds could bypass the rock and roll interior could be bypassed entirely. We did think a couple of times during our hour in the queue whether or not it would be better to just UberEats the pizza to Frankie’s own front door (a pick-up option was not available), but ultimately we enjoyed spectating the debauchery from a safe distance – though not a safe enough distance to not get COVID for the first time, breaking my miraculous two year clean streak.
The fact that Frankie’s has now closed forever (as of yesterday) in its current location to make way for the new Sydney Metro (so that home ownership in the inner-West may become an even more inaccessible dream than it already is) doesn’t particularly scare me. I think that Frankie’s parents at Swillhouse group (known for Hubert, amongst other venues) are probably deep-pocketed enough to revive any commercially successful venue in a different location. If Frankie’s doesn’t rise up from the ashes, it won’t be because of the Metro.
