Foveaux: Understated in Surry Hills

There are plenty of brash, brazen personalities out there and there are also the shrinking violets. While I wouldn’t necessarily place myself in either camp, something has to be said for the understated – the ones that surprise and impress without hype or fanfare. Like Foveaux in Surry Hills.

With a chef’s hat attained in last year's awards, Foveaux is that quiet achiever down the back of the class. My second visit to Foveaux was via voucher deal, with two courses each and to which we added wines by the glass like the bold, berry-bursting Tellurian Shiraz, sides and dessert.

Chestnut soup with ciabatta breadcrumbs and sage oil from Foveaux,
Foveaux Street, Surry Hills

We started with bread accompanied by plenty of butter and a complimentary amuse bouche featuring one of my favourite nuts – the chestnut. Amid the warming soup were extraordinarily crunchy ciabatta breadcrumbs and a barely noticeable sage oil.

Caramelised venison tongue, nham pla prawns, crispy pork skin, cauliflower cream, cashew, shiso and mint

With an ingredient as uncommon as venison tongue, it was a must-order of the entrées. The flavours of the nham pla prawns outshone the venison tongue however, but the latter had a sweetened and meaty chew that was surprising and impressive with the fresh torn herb leaves.

Seared bonito, black sesame, mushroom milk, puffed rice with pickled vegetables and elk

The barely seared bonito entrée was served cold; pink in sashimi-style in the centre with a black sesame crust on its skin side.

There was a lot going on around it but all of it harmonious: the thin rounds of pickled carrot and radish cutting through the aerated, meringue-like mushroom cream, which rounded off the soft, yielding fish.

Roasted veal sirloin, caper and veal chip, white anchovy puree and Brussels sprouts

With the onset of chilly winter weather, it was impossible to ignore the heavier proteins of the mains menu. Not the hugest fan of anchovy but club leader for Brussels sprouts and veal, it had to be the roasted veal sirloin for me.

Done medium-rare, the slices of veal were tenderly juicy though needed the generous splodges of anchovy puree which were distinctive but not overly salty.

The ‘chip’ was a crunchily crumbed specimen of pulled veal and capers; a bit like a Chicken Chippee but infinitely better – an ingenious and utterly divine emphasis of veal in the dish.

Roasted venison leg, mushroom puree, juniper oil, spaetzle, pickled red cabbage
with apple and Spanish onion

The venison leg didn’t look too different to the veal, and had no gamey flavour whatsoever in its medium-cooked state.

The earthy-hued mushroom puree added interest but couldn’t compete with the German influenced pickled red cabbage with spaetzle: sweet with apple and so fragrant with juniper oil that my one taste had me in a gin and tonic mindframe.

Green beans with confit garlic, oregano and lemon

We also indulged in sides of a luxe, thick and creamy potato puree and shiny green beans, tossed with confit garlic slices and lifted with lemon and oregano.

Thyme parfait, lemon curd, blueberry sorbet, pistachio and dried lemon sponge

With the decision made for a dessert to share, I was immediately intrigued by the thyme parfait although the resulting dessert was less herbaceous than I expected.

Nonetheless, the varied combination of the creamy blocks of parfait, tart lemon curd, and dramatic blueberry sorbet accompanied by fresh berries and crumbled nuts worked a treat. Especially with the phenomenal dried lemon sponge which had taken on biscuit-like characteristics with a subtle citrus note.

It was warming to see the cosily full dining room and indeed, the joy on the faces of diners when interestingly-presented dishes arrived to the table. Foveaux doesn’t subscribe to hype or fall head over heels into new trends, but its understated class and reliability make it a shining star of its food-centric postcode.

Painting the town red

Excuse me for sounding old, but these days a night on the town is more likely to involve some new or untried restaurant in the city, as opposed to what it used to mean – at least half a dozen drinks in some seedy club or bar, questionable dancing and a sleepy morning cab ride home. Dining choices are now far more exciting than club nights – and I relish the chance to try somewhere I’ve never been before.

A little while back, I ended up at Foveaux in my old hood of Surry Hills, courtesy of an Entertainment Book offer too good to refuse. The early booking turns out to be a good idea, surprisingly, with the full attention of the staff and kitchen; and time for lingering post dinner cocktails and friends at Foveaux’s downstairs hidey-hole bar, Red Door.

Inside Foveaux, Foveaux Street, Surry Hills

The interior is inoffensively likeable, from the very moment I walk through the sliding front door to the moment I head to the dim downstairs bar. I wasn’t likely to have enough time for the tasting menu this visit, which, at $75 for six courses, is incredibly impressive value. Luckily, I’m in a decisive mood, and a bit excitable too as it’s been a while since hats were anywhere near my plate.

The wine list is brief by the glass, with the French Domaine du Haut Bourg muscadet and Italian Castel Firmian pinot nero our picks. The latter is admittedly a touch too acidic for my tastes but the muscadet is certainly a variety I’ll keep an eye out for in future outings.

Turnip veloute with juniper oil

Promptly following a choice of a petite white or wholemeal bread roll – swiftly demolished with butter and salt; the only remnants being the flour on my black cardigan – the purty glasses of the amuse bouche arrive. A turnip veloute, we’re told, with juniper oil among other ingredients (short attention span). It’s pleasantly warm and creamy; the complex flavours peaking with a strong bitterness at the back of the palate. I’m not sure if I like it or not, but it sets the see-saw tone of the night.

Sautéed Hervey Bay scallops, venison heart, sesame puree, crushed beetroot and la goya jus

Our entrées were selected with uncharacteristic lightning speed, perhaps due to the presence of some lovable starring ingredients. Scallops are seldom bad picks in my books, paired with an uncommon venison heart – very Snow White and not a turn-off to me in the way liver and other offal can be. The sweetness of the crushed beetroot is the perfect foil for the heart – which is medium-rare, of the texture of a rehydrated Chinese shiitake mushroom, faintly meaty and metallic in taste, and unexpectedly affable.

The sesame puree was not at all overpowering as expected, but rather a soft and smooth accompaniment to the slight crunch of the seared scallop, beautifully cooked to a slippery, opaque centre.

Caramelised pork belly, ceviche prawn, black pudding puree, shiso and prawn rice cracker

Decadent as expected, the golden rectangle of pork belly was actually silver medallist in the appearance stakes – second to the pool of black pudding puree, which looked as if it had spilled out of the pork itself. Prawn – in chopped pieces of ceviche and crunchy cracker form – dances atop the melt-in-the-mouth fat and flesh, which has a savoury taste sensation unique to pork, in my view.

It’s a varied collection of ingredients that looks like a contemporary artwork and has a similar polarising overall taste verdict. With the near undivided attention of the kitchen, mains are not long in following.

Braised lamb neck, couscous, prune puree, Spanish onion, carrot and orange

The braised lamb is pure winter comfort; a generous rather cylindrical helping that you could cut with a spoon. Presented on top of a bed of couscous, they were both doused in an intense orange sauce, which actually overpowered any other flavour on the plate, unfortunately.

The carrot was spared, although it was probably one component that could have used the helping hand of the citrus hit. The Spanish onion was a standout, insanely caramelised and sweet that peeling each purple layer off was perversely pleasurable; while the flourishes of prune puree were nicely understated.

Herb baked leather jacket, braised rabbit, lettuce, peas and green olive puree

The leather jacket fillets admittedly don’t look too exciting; herb baked but rather pale in appearance, especially against the lines of verdant green olive puree and dots of peas. The slightly ironic combination of rabbit and lettuce underneath is at some odds with the fish itself. The tender strips of rabbit were slightly gamey, thus making a strange bedfellow for the well-cooked but subdued leather jacket. Perhaps it was all the greenery, but this dish had me thinking spring when it was clearly not spring out of those doors.

Buttered kipfler potatoes, garlic, chive

The kipflers are golden nuggets of fluffy potato, reminiscent of potato gems, dressed in a load of butter, garlic and chives. There’s a vanilla flavour in the potatoes that I can’t quite place, and to be honest, I’m a little too full to really appreciate them in their buttery, golden glory.

By the time we’ve finished our mains, the restaurant’s several tables are filled with many a tasting menu – it seems good value escapes no one. But I’m particularly pleased that it did escape me, as I still maintained a voracious appetite for dessert.

Salad of pineapple, kaffir lime, yellow curry with coconut sorbet and rice paper

It’s an exciting, and also sizeable, pre-dessert we’re presented with, in yet another desirable serving vessel. The mere mention of curry oil is titillating, and the pineapple pieces with finely chopped kaffir lime leaves deliver spoonfuls of initial fascination followed by genuine appreciation. Paired with the sweet coconut sorbet and crispy spiced rice paper, it’s hard not to think to of sweet Thai curries. I was honestly enthralled and my anticipation was heightened for the actual dessert.

Braised watermelon, passionfruit marshmallow, sheep’s yoghurt sorbet, pink grapefruit, fruit salad sage and crumble

And what a stunning dessert it was. Sold on the menu’s mention of marshmallow, I find it to be much more of an attraction than the braised cubes of the softly red watermelon. The marshmallow cubes are torched brown on their flat tops with immensely sticky but firm innards that explode and shout of passionfruit, more so than the actual fruit even. Each cube is a few mouthfuls of bliss that I regret being torn away from, but to try the rest of the dish.

The watermelon is a juicier, denser version of its original self, topped with shreds of the peculiar fruit salad sage, which is a bit minty with a touch of bitterness. On bitter tastes, the pale pink gel of pink grapefruit provided the other end of the scale to the passionfruit marshmallow; an extreme 10 in bitterness and tartness to marshmallow’s pure sweetness.

I kind of understand all the components when taking the sheep’s yoghurt sorbet into consideration. It’s light and undeniably sheep-ish, perfectly partnered with the watermelon and sage, slowly melting on to the buttery shortbread-like crumble like an ice cream sandwich of sorts.

Part of Foveaux's red theme

Pulling away from the oblivion created by the dessert, I notice the restaurant filled to the brim, with table after table arising from the back stairs of the bar. Going in reverse, we lick clean the dessert plate and down the remnants of our French whites and Italian reds, to descend into the dim basement level of Red Door.

There’s an array of seating for twos, threes, groups and masses; and a particularly amusing and extensive cocktail list to ponder while guessing if you actually know those people in the dark distance or the corner. As I pick a drink that’s an “homage to the silent movie stars of the Roaring ‘20s”, it turns out I do know those people in the dark corner, and it’s a few seconds of furniture rearrangement (with help from the staff and flexible seats) before we’re a mass drinking fancy cocktails.

Mine is of the name of a forgotten male actor (really, I’ve forgotten), with a rum of sorts, lemon juice and shaken egg white in a martini glass. It’s expectedly tart but perfect perched on a low stool chatting to unexpected company in the dark lower ground bar – that’s painting the town red for me these days.

Entertain me

With a two-day deadline to use the vouchers and the card of last year's Entertainment Book, I put together a half-hearted challenge to see how entertaining it could really be. The results are mixed, but the weekend was busy.

Marinara risotto at Rouge Bar, Australia Square

It starts with a voucher at Rouge Bar, smack in the middle of Australia Square and facing formidible competition from Ryan's Bar, particularly on a Friday lunchtime. Pretty standard CBD fare to choose from, sandwiches and an odd arrangement of pasta - select your carbs and then a sauce to match; hence the rather unusual marinara risotto.

By all accounts, it's lovely - in a tomato based sauce with quite a bit of seafood presence, rather nicely accessorised with deep fried sweet potato strips. Don't ask about the pepper dusting around the edge of the plate though.

Chicken penne

My penne pasta looks promising too, the julienned beetroot kind of unusual but healthy, I thought. There's poached chicken pieces, vegetable bits, cheese shavings, and penne, of course. What there isn't is flavour - I can see that it's meant to be a tomato sauce, I just can't taste any tomato. The sauce (or what little of it there was) was watery and bland, rendering the entire meal quite insipid - which was slightly better than the service. Next.

Mexican pizza from Crust, Crown Street, Surry Hills

The Crust voucher is one of the awesome value ones that two can get five or six meals out of - although that figure depends on how much pizza you can eat. The Mexican comes a few of man's favourite things - and by this I mean some of the boys I know. Chorizo, Spanish onions, jalepenos and chilli flakes with slightly more girly roasted capsicum on a refried bean base.

It came with one container of sour cream and another container of an avocado salsa, which had great flavours but I only wish it were fresher. This pizza is hot, even after I had pulled the green jalepeno slices off. I was torn between being beaten by the heat and how yummy the salsa was served on top.

Philly steak pizza

My choice is the Philly steak: thinly sliced black angus roast beef, roasted red capsicum along with fresh varieties, more-ish caramelised onion, mushrooms, drizzled with a little too much dijon mustard and not quite enough rocket leaves - all on a tomato sauce base.

Pretty awesome the next day too, although I don't recommend microwave reheating. If you can't be bothered with the oven, I suggest using a sandwich press - but make sure the non-stick surface is still doing it's thing otherwise the cheese and dijon are going to make matters sticky.

Dinner at Foveaux, Foveaux Street, Surry Hills

To the card - one last time, though embarrassingly I only have four scratches on the back of the Gold Card. What a monumental waste, but not for lack of trying. There are a bunch of unexciting CBD options on there, loads of hotel restaurants and definitely nothing new. Foveaux was one I'd been meaning to scratch off, and in the typical nature of doing things at the last minute, here it was - post to come.

Ten pin bowling at AMF, Belmore Road, Randwick

So there's no food or booze involved in the AMF voucher, but there are some pretty funky shoes. Well, not really. I never thought bowling shoes were cool, retro nor any other remotely positive word. Are they even necessary if you're not doing that pro slidey thing?

There's no beating ten pin for some guaranteed fun - I think so, anyway. I love it - it takes me back to younger, freer days and while I'm not superb, I don't need bumpers. I'm a bit of a lightweight so it's six or eight pound balls only. Even then I manage to strain my forearm a little - though I did forget to stretch. It is a sport after all.

Bowling turns dark and party-ish

Mid way through our first game, the lights dim, the neon lights start flashing and the music pumps up - it's apparently kids party time. Luckily they're right down the other end, so we can dance away as we please; celebrate like mad when we get a strike or spare; and not be tempted by overpriced hot chips, hot dogs, chicken nuggets or whatever else is deemed party food.

I have the highest score at the end of both games, but we're all winners as it's been a supremely entertaining weekend. Looking forward to seeing what new restaurants and establishments are included in this year's Entertainment Book.