Albion Street Kitchen: The new casual

I was surprised to see a deal voucher on offer so soon for Albion Street Kitchen – Warren Turnbull's and head chef Grant Astle's very recent rebirth of Assiette. I snapped it up quick-smart and booked in, admittedly a little wary of the changes.

Complimentary milk bread at Albion Street Kitchen, Albion Street, Surry Hills

Albion Street Kitchen is a more casual restaurant than its formerly-toqued predecessor. As soon as I walked through the doors on Albion Street, however, I missed Assiette.

The music playing in the intimate dining room certainly was more casual (Mrs. Robinson?) but the space still feels like Assiette, except for the new bright blue wall. The white tablecloths are gone but in their place are completely lust-worthy, heavy, marble-topped tables.

Complimentary milk bread with rosemary olive oil

The new, more casual menu features five entrées and five mains that all sound pretty exciting, with a touch of international flavours which I remember from Assiette days. Wines by the glass are very well priced, with the fruity yet buttery Chenin Blanc possibly my new favourite white wine.

Adorable, shiny milk bread arrived at the table on a board with a tiny carafe of olive oil and a sprig of rosemary that seemed more decorative than a flavour infuser. The pull-apart style of the fluffy and softly dense bread was perfect for a hungry stomach.

Cheese on toast, truffle, asparagus, Pedro Ximenez, raisins

This may well be an early contender for signature dish at Albion Street Kitchen – and I know I want it again on my next visit. Cheese on toast is easily one of my favourite lazy, comforting meals, but I can’t say I often have Pyengana cheddar delicately melted over toasty brioche with truffle shavings.

I also don’t tend to cook raisins in Pedro Ximenez sherry to add on top with delightfully buttery mushrooms and grilled asparagus spears. For this luxe version of cheese on toast, I’ll be seeking out Albion Street Kitchen.

Seared veal tongue, sweetbreads, pickled turnip, salsa verde, almonds

The veal tongue entrée was a little surprising in its form; basically a steak slice of the tongue, surrounded by golden pan fried sweetbreads, small but vivid pink pickled turnip and a bright green sauce of salsa verde.

Both the pickle and salsa verde were perfect flavour matches for the offal but it was the veal tongue that really surprised me. It was as far from chewy as you could get (in contrast to some experiences with ox tongue) and bordered on spongy, which isn’t a particularly appetising descriptor but worked excellently with its sear treatment and dish accompaniments.

Ranger's Valley bavette, miso glaze, eggplant, sesame seeds, spinach

There was serious to-ing and fro-ing when it came to the mains options, with all the protein options sounding delectably worthy.

My second pick was the Ranger’s Valley bavette or flank steak, which was served with wilted spinach and a halved, miso-topped grilled eggplant. While I adore the Japanese nasu dengaku miso glazed eggplant dish, I found the miso glaze a little too strong on the soft eggplant here.

A muscular cut of beef, the pink-centred bavette was wonderfully tender with an appropriate bit of chew to go along with loads of beefy flavour, somewhat offsetting the sweet miso glaze.

Chatham Island cod, cauliflower, vadouvan, tamarind gel

My top pick was the Chatham Island cod; a slim fillet that flaked to perfection and had plenty of flavour on its own.

The vadouvan spice dusted cauliflower gave the dish an affable Indian touch while the cauliflower puree, dotted with the sweet brown tamarind gel, added richness and depth. This also came with wilted spinach, making the main meals quite complete and reducing the need for side dishes.

Panfried zucchini, garlic butter (front) and chips, chilli salt (back)

In any case, I’d recommend one side shared between two diners, especially given the generous sizes – the thick cut chips were served in a bowl in a pub-size serving.

Crunchily golden with a seasoning of salt and chilli powder, there was a definite umami component, almost like powdered katsuobushi dried bonito flakes or similar. They were a little on the dry side, so the tamarind gel from my main meal made for a fitting dipping sauce.

Meanwhile, the zucchini were at just the right firmness with a surprisingly subtle garlic butter and crisp pangratatto style breadcrumbs sprinkled atop. We were defeated by half bowls of each side remaining and finishing my wine, I couldn't even look at the dessert menu.

In all, I wouldn't call Albion Street Kitchen a casual restaurant but it is certainly a step down from hatted fine dining. At its heart I think it’s just the new, casual Assiette, but with quality and flavours like this on the plates, I'm really going to like the new casual.

Assiette Friday prix fixe on my mind

On the extremely rare occasion that I had an entire Friday off from any kind of work, I immediately knew what I wanted to do: prix fixe lunch at one of the fine establishments in Surry Hills that offered it.

One email later, I was booked in to lunch at two-hatted (well, it was when I dined there) Assiette. I think I could definitely handle the 'ladies who lunch' lifestyle.

Kreglinger 'Vintage Brut' from Assiette, Albion Street, Surry Hills

The dining room was absolutely packed as we arrived (except for our table), the restaurant bustling with the noise of Friday lunch. The two of us seemed somewhat youthful in comparison to the rest of the dining room, other than the under-5-year-old hoeing into her three-course meal with coloured pencils on the side.

The $35 prix fixe menu was evidently popular, with a choice from two of each entree, main and dessert, along with suggested wine matches.

Being not too long after breakfast, I wasn't sure I could stomach three glasses of wine. We started with a festive glass of Tasmania's Kreglinger Vintage Brut; a sparkling with a fun and fruity beginnings, and a drier finish.

White bread roll

The warm bread roll was crusty to a point of embarassingly messy, served with butter and salt flakes, to numb the initial hunger. However, it wasn't long at all before the entrees arrived.

White bean veloute with duck rillettes

I had no strong preference for either entree as they both sounded quite satisfactory. I end up with the white bean veloute in front of me; a thick and hearty concoction of more cream than bean in taste.

In the middle sat a stump of duck rillettes; unexpectedly sweet on its lonesome, but making more sense when eaten with the soup. The hazelnuts in the rillettes were in sharp contrast with the soft and silky textures of the rest of the dish; while the drizzles of presumably basil oil made it look like an artist's palette.

Salt cod croquette with potato puree

I was very impressed with my few bites of the croquette; far superior to any other salt cod croquette I've sampled (which can be too salty, too potato-ey and so on).

Assiette's was insanely perfect: light with seasoned mashed potato and populated with chunks of salt cod flakes that had gorgeous texture with a bit of resistance. And if I thought the veloute was creamy, it had nothing on the potato puree beneath the fine, cylindrical croquette.

Pan fried mackerel with pumpkin, feta, raisins and pine nuts

Going by the menu, I was happy to go with the mackerel main - a fish I've been having a lot of lately in some very good dishes; though perhaps it's in season too. Its presentation was a little surprising in its less refined, thrown-together look, but also with a Middle Eastern slant.

Pumpkin, feta cheese, sweet raisins and pine nuts aren't the hallmarks of French cooking, but they seemed to work together. While the raisins and pumpkin were entirely appropriate for the salty feta and some parts salty fish, the mackerel itself had a slight fishiness that was difficult to conceal.

The three thin slices of pan fried mackerel formed a triangle over smashed pumpkin and the array of other ingredients, although it all just ended up feeling like disparate but well-cooked parts as opposed to a unified dish.

Roast pork belly with pearl barley and apple sauce

The pork belly looked a picture of perfection: a square tile of crackling topped pork, sitting neatly on pearl barley with a nice, big dollop of apple sauce. It was difficult to attack the meat, what with its crackling armour and slippery grounding - in the end it was easier to separate the crackling from the flesh and consume each separately.

The crackling was fabulous, except for the thick layer of fat beneath it which turned the chewing exercise into something like that for stickjaw toffees. The meat, however, just melted - even more tender than the very tasty and homely pearl barley, and was pure comfort with the classic pairing of apple sauce.

Chocolate brownie with caramel ice cream

Our desserts arrived as the restaurant started to empty, the workers heading back to their offices and the others delighting in their Friday afternoon freedom.

The slice of chocolate brownie looked threatening with its gooey fudginess. The chocolate hit wasn't huge but it was just the right sized slice, while the caramel ice cream started to make it all a little too sweet. I liked the shortbread crumbs beneath the ice cream, and the vice-versa chocolate crumbs on the ice cream.

Strawberry Eton Mess

The less rich Eton Mess arrived in front of me in a martini glass; a gorgeous mess of vanilla bean speckled cream, gyprock-like meringue shards, strawberry puree, strawberry segments, pistachio crumble and ever-present micro herbs.

There was more meringue mixed into the whipped, light-as-air vanilla cream and swirled with the ruby red puree, it was a taste of a girly childhood without a sugar high. Happiness, of another kind, in a martini glass.

The prix fixe three-course Friday lunch menu is simply incredible value, and with a different menu every week, there is now even more reason for Fridays to be on my mind.