Taste, two ways

Going for seconds is usually a good sign – going back for more food, seeing a movie a second time, returning to a restaurant, a second date. The first time was obviously good enough to warrant a return, and there’s the knowledge that the second time round will be just as good or have enough variety to not be boring.

It happens that I’m back for seconds at the Taste of Sydney festival at Centennial Park. The organisers must have been ecstatic that the temperamental Sydney weather held up for most of the festival – with only a bit of a shower on the Saturday night and a few light sprinkles on Sunday. Second time round, I have strategically marked targets throughout the festival and intentions to systematically review the stalls. And to taste as many samples as socially acceptable.

Grilled pesto salmon samples from Huon Aquaculture

I was right the first time - there were a lot fewer stalls giving out tasters. But that doesn't mean that I didn't score a beautifully cooked hunk of salmon, drizzled with lemon juice and lightly tossed through pesto. I took one piece, and moved on - not what a lot of people milling about the City Tattersalls Club stall could say.

Freebies on offer from City Tattersalls Club

Congrats firstly to City Tatts for having the generosity and bravery to give away free food all day long - all four days long, I should say. Personally, I'd be scared. As for marketing, it was a winner; as far as accounting goes, I'm not so sure.

I was quite impressed with the quality and understated sophistication of their freebie offerings, especially the lab-whimsical apple, cranberry and cinnamon doughnuts which were, for starters, fresh and scrummy on their own. But with a self-administered injection of white chocolate or sour cherry filling, it was a new level of playing with your food, if not just a little over the top - no complaints though.

Tempura soft shell crab with lime and ginger aioli from City Tattersalls Club

Small bits of soft shell crab were served and stalked in little paper cones, piping hot and just a little oily for it. This was washed down with complimentary mini cocktails: a sweetly innocent pink bramble cocktail and a killer white chocolate martini. Let me tell you, I've never had a free, or even happy hour, cocktail as strong as that white chocolate martini - if I were wearing socks, they would have been blown off over that way.

Paella a la Maestre cooking at El Toro Loco

Our first dish of the day was the seafood paella from El Toro Loco, where I'm not sure how chef Miguel Maestre managed to cook anything for all the photos and girls simply fawning over him. The serving we got lacked seafood, unfortunately; just the one mussel in shell for the entire paper bowl. I was, however, a big fan of the zingy rice - not mushy nor hard, but surprisingly a great palate awakener. And stomach liner for that matter.

James Squire Brewery

Nothing beats that first beer on a sunny afternoon - it's just the fourth and fifth beers that are problematic. Meandering through and around people is that much less stressful when one has a chilled James Squire Golden Ale in hand - if there's a queue of jam in front; just stop, sip, pause and let that stress dissolve away. But really, a hot day plus beer in moderation is a heavenly match - made only better with cured meat.

Victor Churchill stand display

It's pure class at the Victor Churchill stand; delicious without even knowing what's on offer. It is after all a butcher, so there are a few cuts of not-inexpensive meat along with a few clubs of biltong. Further along the case are mountains of prettily packed charcuterie and within seconds, I have a posh plastic container in my hands.

Cured meat plate from Victor Churchill

Prosciutto, capicola, salame and olives; gherkin and sourdough bread in my hands - these are a few of my favourite things. Short of dancing around in curtains, we dig into the platter propped up against one of those astroturf blocks, ripping into the lovely chewy yet soft bread. The prosciutto is wonderously/scarily (you choose) fatty with flavour that strokes and fondles the tongue. The capicola is distinctly drier and less fat, but almost with a stronger flavour. But my favourite has to be the salame, red with capsicum I think, and hitting all the right fatty, chewy, meaty spots.

Victor Churchill dessert offerings

And who would think a butcher could put on such classy desserts. Victor Churchill is cleary not your average butcher. Every single chocolate mousse, creme caramel, strawberry trifle and creme brulee (freshly torched) looked perfect - though I admit the strawberry jelly is a little too pig's blood for me after prior witnessings.

Original lemonade from Lemon Bar

The non-alcoholic break proves to be unwise - for it is expensive and crunchy with sugar crystals, which I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be. No point being a sour lemon, but lessons to be learned.

Planet Cake workshop cupcakes as previously mentioned

That's serious whiskey if it's in a cage - at Think Spirits

Cured ocean trout with coleslaw, lemon and dill jelly from Marque

The ticking of the hit list begins. Marque were definitely dishing up stylish yet generously-sized serves I notes, as I scamper off happily with my ocean trout. 'Astroturfing' next to a stranger with the tuna from Flying Fish, I could only pity their inability to cut the tuna with a knife (it seemed stringy...) while my ocean trout melted in my mouth with the pop-py roe. The jelly is not how I remember it, but rather a gel that miraculously seems creamy beneath the harmonious tones of lemon and dill. The fish is firmly perfect, making the coleslaw redundant other than as a comfy seat.

Suckling pig panino with apple, mustard and rocket served on Sonoma sourdough from Pilu at Freshwater

Tick. Giovanni Pilu smilingly hands over the panino himself in exchange for Crowns, appearing quite content without the celebrity. Maybe it's the suckling pig. The piggy bun is a wonderfully crisp square stuffed full of tender white flesh. The wholegrain mustard and rocket make themselves known although the apple seems to have gone hiding with the salt and seasoning.

Fries with eyes - crisp school prawns with a spicy Cajun remoulade from Jonah's at Whale Beach

Tick, tick, tick - I can't tick this dish enough. While in hindsight I should have gone back for seconds and thirds, Jonah's fries with eyes are right up there as potential festival favourite. Quirky name, deep fry, mayo sauce - what doesn't this dish have? Chef George Francisco notes the variable size of the prawns in my serving, saying the uppermost one looked like it ate schoolies as opposed to being one. Alternatively, there were ones the size of Chinese dried shrimp - the small sized ones.

Doused in lemon and the tasty remoulade, these crunchy critters were looking to please with their cholesterol-filled heads and to-be-carefully-eaten shells. These minor barriers to enjoyment are genuinely part of the enjoyment; and there's no peeling required and no wastage created. Very green indeed.

Tapioca pudding with poached jackfruit and lychees from Longrain

I'm looking for one of the final ticks at the Longrain stall but they've run out of fish cakes. Not placated with the replacement smoked trout salad, I console myself in the tropical tapioca pudding. The in-season rambutan is sweet; the wafer stick sweeter and the coconut tapioca mix sweeter yet. The jackfruit slivers provide momentary and welcome tartness while the lychees seem overwhelmed.

It's a monster; it's a sea creature; it's a...

rambutan with sago pearls stuck to it

And so it's the dessert run. Well, sort of - broken up with one of the very last servings of Flying Fish's grilled king prawns with black pepper and curry leaf sauce, steamed rice and curry leaf malum. I genuinely like to alternate my sweet and savoury intakes, and don't even mind them together (hello salted caramels and ham on hot cross buns - don't knock it till you try it!)

The 4's dark chocolate Cherry Ripe from Four in Hand

A passing decision to drop in at the Four in Hand proves extremely wise. I love fresh cherries. I don't like anything cherry-related that isn't fresh. Liquer, maraschino, chocolate, lollies - no thanks. But I adore this sorbet. It's freezing cold, mild on the sweetness with a hint of darkness in a lingering bitterness - I've found a Cherry Ripe I like. The moistly fudgey dark chocolate cake crumbs certainly assist, but I find my spork ineffective in getting those last two crums of cake. I surely can not stick my face/tongue all the way into the bowl.

Raspberry sorbet from Movenpick

The Cherry Ripe has us in a fevered search for more. Of course, a second helping at Four in Hand would have been the easy option, but where's the challenge in that? After several samples of ice cream from the New Zealand tourism tent (and maybe some mussels, cockles, cheese and salmon), we settle on one of the numerous ice cream and gelato stalls. Movenpick's raspberry sorbet is not quite as mature as the cherry - sweeter and lighter - but the squinty-sour lemon is very satisfying.

The crowd tastes - the Taste crowds

And with a final visit to the Chef's Table to see a very passionate Jared Ingersoll of Danks Street Depot, Taste of Sydney is over for year two. What fun it's been to go back and back and back for seconds - and I get the feeling thirds will be even better. Second that?

On the Marque

The optimist within, supressed as they may be, can be open-minded and hopeful of the unknown. The remainder is swayed from time to time by the optimist but on the whole it would seem that fear rules in unknown worlds. So it's natural that a bit of reckless, letting-the-optimist-out-of-the-cage thought and action is not only fun and a little dangerous, it's also healthy and necessary. And it's just cruel to keep anything locked up unnecessarily for long periods of time.

With out-of-the-cage things happening all round, my excitement is contained somewhat about a planned visit to Marque restaurant in Surry Hills. I was certainly buzzy excited about the degustation, just not to the exploding stage. Be warned: there are some pretty poor photos below (light, dark and just plain bad) but it was really a night about the food and wine - that's how I'm justifying it anyway.

Chaud-froid free range egg from Marque Restaurant

The buzz was heightened on the arrival of the amuse-bouche: an egg. Delicately topless and served with grissini, this free ranger contained more ingredients than I could catch the waitress rattling off - but including cream, maple syrup, vinegar and topped off with finely chopped chives.

The first mouthful of light-as-air whipped cream had the table silenced, eyes wide and nodding while seeking - and finding - all the individual flavours. I eventually stirred the egg yolk into the the overall concoction with my grissini to create a light but rich experience that genuinely danced all over my palate. Chef Mark Best attributes the hot-cold egg to its original creator, Alain Passard.

Bread: rye and white

Bread service was plentiful and popular throughout the evening. The darker rye bread was my pick of the two; both enjoyed beneath a slather of soft butter. The rye was soft and chewy with the distinct flavour of caraway and the not-so distinct "maltiness" of some Coopers ale in the starter dough.

Almond jelly with blue swimmer crab, almond
gazpacho, sweet corn and Avruga

With this first dish, it's degustation away. Again the waitress informs us of the components of the dish - it's a textural journey - but I'm mesmerised by her last words: "popcorn dust". The dish indeed has a strong corn aroma, the almond jelly is subdued, and I quite like the combined subtleties that don't overpower the delicate crab meat hiding beneath the jelly. The Avruga caviar nudges the overall seasoning along as does the popcorn dust. This was served with perhaps my favourite wine of the evening: an Austrian 'Brundlmayer Gruner Veltliner'.

Sea scallop with 'fish floss', scampi anglaise, Campari and turnip

The next dish bears resemblance to an artist's palette, and I guess the comparison isn't really that far off. Paper-thin mushrooms dominate visually but the eyes and ears are drawn to the blushing cubes of turnip with Campari. Paper-thin slices of raw scallop sit gently atop the scampi cream - its shellfish flavour too passive for me - with scatterings of golden-hued, flavour-of-the-sea fish floss. I feared some of the components simply overpowered the scallop, muting its natural sweetness and flavour - especially the wincingly bitter turnip for which a floral New Zealand gerwurztraminer served as recovery.

Cured ocean trout with coleslaw, lemon and dill jelly

Contender for my favourite dish was this generous slice of ocean trout served on top of a (invisible...) coleslaw of julienned apple, nasturtium and something. What you also can't see is a layer of the firmest, crunchiest roe ever - they were briney explosions, to the tooth and beyond - and the fanciful lemon and dill jelly. A thin, rectangular sheet of melt-on-the-tongue jelly, equally strong in fresh lemon and dill, was balanced on top of the roe: stunning flavour on its own and a fantastic mixer-and-mingler in a mouthful.

Duck ham with braised and fresh endive and parmesan

This next dish is still fighting for top ranks on my podium, but it was admittedly met with a bit of a Hannibal Lecter "fava beans and a nice Chianti" moment in my head. I'm not a liver fan, or any other innards for that matter, and it doesn't help when it seems to still be bleeding. The duck ham looked like close relations to prosciutto and there was also a yellow parmesan puree beneath the vegetable, and three delightfully surprising, snow-white parmesan gnocchi.

Fearing the worst I sampled a small section of the rare-cooked duck liver first - saving the better for last was my thinking. Being rare, it didn't have that soft, smushy texture characteristic of most the liver I've tried, and disliked. It had its undeniable metallic iron taste which I then proceeded to almost eliminate with the parmesan puree. The gnocchi were of a much more reserved parmesan flavour, remarkably light and gelatinous.

But on to the star of the plate: the duck ham. The two thinly shaved rashers are a tease - I want more of that dreamy soft, smokey, moist, gamey goodness. Lots more. In fact, a whole plate of it without all the other trimmings and I'd be quacking happy.

Slow-cooked pork jowl with spinach and Pacific oyster

My only knowledge and experience with pork jowl is guanciale, of which I had the fortune of sampling quite authentically in a rustic rigatoni all'amatriciana in Rome (sigh). All discussion about piggies with illnesses aside, I was a little hesitant about the pork and oyster pairing. To be honest, it even looked a tad mismatched with the rich-looking oyster foam beside the fatty, pinky-white pork. I had the Pacific oyster first; slightly warmed and so fresh it could have been alive.

The pork was unapologetically fatty; the fat firm, not at all glue-y but not overly flavoured. I enjoyed the occasional crispened section of the thin skin layer and the contrasting texture with the fat and flesh, but there was almost something missing with the pork. Perhaps it was the oyster. The spinach sprinkled with sesame seeds was good foil for the oyster foam and pork alike.

18 hour Angus short rib with boudin noir,
onion croquettes and smoked onion

The last savoury dish to arrive is delightfully pretty and promisingly hearty. The neat medium-cooked short rib is mostly tender and divine with the jus but almost acts the canvas for the other items on the plate. The blood sausage is served as a mousse - without offending too much. And then there's onion three ways: an intense smoke-inhaled puree, dainty pickled onion rings, and the most exquisitely stunning croquettes.

Covered in a golden crumb, the spherical croquettes shock with their jelly-like inner and astound with their succinct onion sweetness. Lust is probably a more appropriate word than love here, but you never know with these things. I believe I polished off everything bar the croquettes so I could revel in them as my last savoury mouthful of the degustation.

Sauternes custard

Then the switch to sweets but the raptures keep on coming. We're told the pre-dessert is no palate cleanser and its simple appearance belies a masterpiece. Jostling for top ranks in the entire degustation, the Sauternes custard served with caramel blew minds (and limbs) from the first taste. The so-good-but-so-bad caramel hit accompanied the brilliant custard which transported the palate to a glass of sticky dessert wine. I had to resist the temptation to lick out my tiny dish of this simply mind-blowing dessert.

Warm chocolate ganache with hazelnut croquant,
yoghurt, eucalyptus and raspberry

I had severe concerns for the following, proper dessert after the custard performance - but a very different path was cleverly taken. The ganache was a heavenly bitter-sweet dark chocolate pudding-like mixture, served warm on top of cold European-style sour yoghurt. The contrast was quite exciting, accentuated by the adorable side garnishes and flavours of a sugared mint leaf and a dried raspberry. There were a lot of flavours happening here, with even what I recall as curry powder sprinkled over.

Goat cheese marshmallow with candied citrus and sorbet

We also had an additional dessert of the goat cheese marshmallow. I was excitedly anticipating this, having tried and loved the Centennial Parklands Dining (Mark Best consulted) version at the recent Taste festival. Anticipation, expectation and absolute satisfaction. The spherical marshmallow was firmer than the Taste version but with the same sweetness followed by a sharp, sour goat's cheese hit - swoon-worthy stuff.

Salted caramel chocolates and bitter bon bons

We finished with tea, coffees and the final dish which came out celebrating the occasion. We were instructed to just pop the bon bons in our mouths and let it do its thing. Flavours varied to include Campari and artichoke, of which I had the latter. Once the crisp sugar coating dissolved it was an explosion of liquid bitterness which was a little overwhleming for personal taste. The salted caramel chocolate proved just the thing as a 'chaser' to the bon bon - beautifully measured caramel with a hint of salt in meltingly good chocolate - Caramello Koala gone classy.

And so it's come to the end of the meal and night; the unknown and mystique of the degustation uncovered. It's been a wonderful few hours of life and despite the chill outdoors, we're letting the optimist out for a little - a bit of fresh air would do it good.