Swimming with the big fish: Sydney Seafood School with Giovanni Pilu

I don't cook much seafood except fish fillets or prawns. Prawns don't scare me, perhaps as I've been exposed to peeling prawns from a young age. Or perhaps it's that their eyes are more comical than scary.

On the other hand, whole fish are definitely intimidating in the kitchen, so it was a great opportunity to allay some of these fears at the Sydney Seafood School at the Sydney Fish Markets.

Giovanni Pilu from Pilu at Freshwater for Sydney Seafood School,
Sydney Fish Markets, Pyrmont

While the majority of the Sydney Fish Markets look a little run-down, the 2009- refurbished Sydney Seafood School is a designer's delight. All classes at the Sydney Seafood School start with a demonstration in the slick, lecture-theatre styled auditorium.

I'd chosen the four-hour class with Giovanni Pilu, of Pilu at Freshwater and a soon-to-be cookbook author. Specialising in Sardinian fare, Pilu was at pains to highlight that 'Italian' as a cuisine is too broad a categorisation given the significant regional differences in food across the country.

For example, even on the island of Sardinia, coastal cuisine focuses on the abundant seafood harvest while inland cooking is based on pork, lamb, wild game, sheep's cheese and fregola.

Pilu demonstrates cleaning of raw cuttlefish

Pilu practices seasonality in his cooking and restaurant menus, and implored the full auditorium: "Please don't buy imported fruit and vegetables." Australia produces enough fruit and vegetables for 180 million people, he says, and that no asparagus is better than out-of-season asparagus imported all the way from Peru, for example.

Pilu demonstrated three separate dishes that we would be cooking in groups of six afterwards. His multi-tasking and ways with cuttlefish and gnocchi made everything look a breeze, but the class seemed to know better as they studiously read the provided recipes, took notes and closely watched the large television screens above the demo kitchen.

Pilu demonstrates making potato gnocchi

The impressive ease in which Pilu makes gnocchetti, or small gnocchi, even helps me forget my own tortuous experience years ago, although his kipfler potatoes were baked and ready to go (compared to my boiled and waterlogged potatoes).

After approximately two hours of our very own, live, in-person cooking show, we could see and smell the end results. But to taste, we'd have to make our own lunch in the class kitchen next door.

Sydney Seafood School class kitchens

The kitchens for the classes are Fisher and Paykel island setups that include the stovetop, oven, fridge, sink and storage space - indeed, small apartments might well look into this setup.

All the ingredients and utensils were at our disposal, as too help where needed from Sydney Seafood School assistants. This is how cooking should be. Better yet, everything but the Global knives could be dumped into big containers for someone else to wash.

With six people per bench, my group split the three dishes among three couples - and I'd landed the big fish, quite literally.

Snapper

The snapper we received for the main course was longer than your standard size plastic chopping board and heavy too. As possibly my first whole fish to be cooked in the kitchen, it was big one to remember.

The monster snapper was already cleaned and scaled while Pilu recommends not washing fish in water but wiping it clean, inside and out, with paper towels so as not to potentially lose flavour into the washing water.

Fresh snapper should have perky, not sunken eyes; firm pink flesh; and a pleasant sea smell and our specimen certainly complied. For ease of cooking and subsequent eating, Pilu tells us to take off the gills and excess tail; where gardening scissors come in very handy or in our case, a massive cleaver for trimming the tail.

The snapper - scored and salted

Another cute tip Pilu gives us is that for presentation, the fish's stomach should face oneself while the head should be facing left, "otherwise it's upside down".

To cook, we scored the large snapper several times down to the bone (on one side only in this case) and generously patted the skin with salt flakes, which helps achieve a crispy skin.

Grilling the snapper on the stovetop

The snapper gets the stovetop grill treatment ahead of 25 minutes in the oven with juices, and flipping the scored side over is definitely the hardest part. After a good ten minutes we could see that the flesh in the centre was still raw pink, but ripe for some flavours to be introduced.

Snapper scattered with garlic and green olives

The flavours - as per one of Pilu's restaurant dishes - were Vernaccia (a dry Italian white wine that could be substituted with Vermentino or any other dry white), gorgeously meaty Sardinian Bosane olives, garlic and fish stock which was thankfully pre-made ahead of the class.

Twenty-five minutes in a hot oven with lots of basting with juices would have this snapper ready for lunch, with resting time as per a piece of meat. A sauce was to be made out of the fish's cooking juices, chopped parsley ("not the curly stuff, please," says Pilu) and butter.

Cleaning cuttlefish

Meanwhile, everything else was happening at the same time, including the incredibly messy and finicky job of cleaning cuttlefish. I think most groups battled with burst ink sacs as blackened, slippery fingers tried to remove the cuttlebone, skin and membranes.

Even Pilu's kitchen staff were opposed to having this cephalopod on the menu, which while cheaper than squid, is labour- and time-intensive to prepare.

Once cleaned, the white slices were cooked for all of a minute in a pot of boiling water flavoured with lemon, cloves, bay leaves, pepper, tomatoes and salt. The just cooked cuttlefish was to join a salad of pine mushrooms from Oberon, fennel and Pilu's very own Australian-produced bottarga cured mullet roe.

Baked kipfler potatoes going through the ricer

On yet another corner of the kitchen island, gnocchi was on the go. Pilu had made it look way too easy, although the team effort wasn't too much off his demonstration. Pilu likes to use kipflers although Desiree potatoes can be substituted.

The most time-consuming part for home cooking would be baking the potatoes - a good hour at least to cook them to complete softness. They're best through the ricer still hot, though I seem to remember painful hours with a fork to mash my boiled potatoes years ago.

Rolling long strips of the gnocchi dough

Pilu's recipe uses minimal type 00 flour, one egg, grated pecorino cheese and nutmeg to end up with soft, still fluffy sausages of the potato dough. The gnocchi is made by feel rather than strict recipe instructions, so the small amount of flour needs to be added gradually and not necessarily all of it.

Kipfler potato gnocchi

Chopping them up into small gnocchetti, one could spend the necessary hours rolling each dumpling over a fork for grooves across the gnocchi (it holds the accompanying sauce better), although I'm sure most sane people cooking for six people or more wouldn't really bother.

The gnocchi are cooked in salted boiling water, where it's apparently an Italian habit to use 10 grams of salt per litre of water to cook pasta. Some of the starchy water from cooking pasta can be added to the sauce for more flavour and natural thickening.

Cooking smoky pancetta

The sauce for the gnocchi was pure luxe, starting with batons of smoky pancetta from Pino's Dolce Vita. Although normal pancetta or guanciale cured pork jowl could be used also, the smoky stuff was Pilu's top choice.

The smells coming from the pans of pancetta cooking in olive oil were sublime and the exact aroma that would get mouths watering on command.

Spanner crab and smoky pancetta

To finish the decadent sauce we added prawn stock and the cheat's version of raw Queensland spanner crab meat from a packet (frozen, thawed and likely shell-free but not guaranteed).

Pilu called the combination of surf and turf "nearly a perfect marriage", finished off with a textural contrast of crumbled carta di musica Sardinian flatbread over the hopefully fluffy gnocchi.

Sydney Seafood School dining room

With the cooking done and someone else doing the cleaning, the groups moved to the gorgeously styled dining room to taste the spoils of all our hard work.

Featuring a panoramic image of Blackwattle Bay and the most stunning, nautical-inspired light features, we dined like happy chefs.

Kipfler potato gnocchi, spanner crab and smoky pancetta

With a fair hit of dried chilli, the gnocchi was sensational. Not the fluffiest gnocchi I've ever had but up there, the luxurious sauce starred. The pancetta was an explosion of flavour in every mouthful while the prawn stock contributed an underlying sweetness with plenty of depth, propping up the subtle crab flesh.

Cuttlefish, fennel, pine mushrooms and bottarga salad

Dressed simply with lemon, oil, salt, pepper and a final sprinkle of bottarga, the salad was a refreshing combination that really let the cuttlefish shine. Perfectly tender, and with some chew to the thicker-than-squid flesh, the cuttlefish and fennel washed away the thoughts of black-stained hands with ease.

Snapper with Vernaccia, green olives and parsley

The undeniable piece de resistance of snapper had the most incredible aromas when unveiled. With resting time, the entire huge fish was cooked to perfection and came away from the bone with ease.

A hunk of almost bone-free fish, olive cheeks, cooked garlic, the buttery parsley sauce and bread for mopping up juices - perfection.

(Note this was Pilu's demonstration snapper - we hoed into our fish with much excitement and demolished half of it before I remembered a photo. His looked just slightly better than ours). A fish this size also meant there was plenty of leftovers for another glorious meal.

Sydney Seafood School - a fabulous cooking and dining experience

Our three-course shared lunch was complemented with Sardinian wine and ended with tea and coffee. We left with Sydney Seafood School-branded insulated carry bags which will be perfect for future Fish Markets purchases.

And I think I can safely say, having swum with the big fish at Sydney Seafood School, I'm confident of attempting my own huge snapper at home for a seriously classy and impressive meal.

Sydney Seafood School classes run throughout the year at the Sydney Fish Markets. See more photos at my Facebook page. See Sydney Fish Markets Easter opening hours here.

Food, booze and shoes attended Giovanni Pilu's cooking class as a guest, with thanks to Sydney Seafood School and Inner West Live.

A taste of Sardinia, Italy: Pilu at Freshwater

A little under the (alcohol-induced) weather, nothing sounded better than a hour car trip to feast by the sea – except maybe a sleep-in. Or hot French fries. Or not drinking so much the night before.

Inside Pilu at Freshwater, Moore Road, Freshwater

We were heading over the bridge to (not quite Sardinia, but may as well have been given my state) lunch at the two-hatted Pilu at Freshwater right on the beach.

As a large island in the Mediterranean Sea, west of the main ‘boot’ of Italy, the autonomous region of Sardinia is known for seafood, rustic roast meats and the impossibly thin crisp bread carta di musica.

Bread and carta di musica

Here, the ‘sheet music’ is scented with rosemary, olive oil and a sprinkle of sea salt. It is simply delicious although almost like eating nothing but gorgeous flavours.

It’s a tantalising a la carte menu, but we’re sold on the Taste of Sardinia degustation menu that promises roasted suckling pig as one of the dishes, although sadly I was in no state for the matching Sardinian wines.

Arancini of golden beetroot and provolone

To start, we each receive a small arancini ball of creamy yellow rice, provolone cheese and golden beetroot – the latter which I couldn’t see nor taste. It was a surprisingly rich starter given the ubiquitousness of tomato teas/consommés and other soupy amuse bouches.

Scampi con burro alla polpa di ricci – grilled scampi with sea urchin butter

The first dish of the degustation was scampi – another key selling point of the tasting menu for me. Three halves of the crustacean appear on each plate with a healthy drizzle of sea urchin butter, which is creamy and sweet in that fresh seafood way.

Grilled scampi with sea urchin butter

The precious small amounts of white flesh come from the shell easily, and are a tad mushy although this doesn’t detract from the sweet flavour of scampi at all. I use bits of bread to dab within the shells, just to get every last bit of scampi and butter from the shell and head.

Culurzones con burro, salvia e salsa di tartufo – ravioli of potato, mint and pecorino
with burnt butter, sage and black truffle

I hadn’t expected to really like the Sardinian potato ‘ravioli’ given the carbs-on-carbs idea, but this turned out to be the dish of the day.

Looking more like gorgeous pasties standing tall than your regular flat parcel ravioli, the culurzones of delicately-pleated thin egg pasta contained a smooth blend of potato, pecorino and just a touch of mint, served with crispy sage leaves and more freshly grated pecorino on top.

These parcels were probably light on their own but divinely rich with the sauce of burnt butter, sage and black truffle shavings. Each mouthful was a moan-inducing moment of pure bliss, making this the dish that was on my mind all night.

Fregola risottata – fregola with tomato and cured meat ragu

Fregola is a Sardinian pasta of thick, small rounds; almost like large, circular pills. This particular dish is cooked in the style of risotto, with a ragu of tomato and mixed cured meats.

The pasta is rather cute and retains a nice chewiness, while the acidity of the tomato has its work cut out with the strong flavours from the diced cured meats, as well as the liberal amounts of butter from the prior two dishes.

Alternative fregola risottata with wild boar ragu

An alternative fregola dish was also provided for one diner in the way of a wild boar ragu; a savoury stew-like sauce of tender, meaty pieces.

I actually preferred the lighter tomato ragu and eventually managed to get every single piece of pasta, difficult as it was in the end with a fork.

Sorbetto di arance e olive disidratate – orange sorbet with dehydrated olive

The palate cleanser signalled the end of the entrée-like dishes with dramatic efficiency. Designer silver spoons on a rectangular slate plate held the most perfect quenelle scoop of orange sorbet – a subtle, none-to-sweet one – with a sprinkle of dehydrated black olive crumbs.

Very cool dehydrated olive bits

The saltiness from the olives was actually the highlight, refreshing the mind as well as the palate with its creativeness.

With service on the slower side of things, albeit professional, it had already been a couple of hours – and those of us who’d skipped breakfast were willing the dishes to come out faster.

Filetto di snapper alla Vernaccia di Oristano e olive Verdi – snapper fillet
with Vernaccia and green olives

The first impression as the golden browned snapper fillets landed on the table was that I totally scored on the olive front, while some across from me languished with only two pieces of the vividly green olive cheeks.

The olives were a surprisingly good match with the crisp skinned fish; the slightly tart and salty punch just the thing with the mild snapper. The light sauce of Vernaccia di Oristano, a Sardinian sherry-like wine, tied it all together, making this a definite contender for second favourite dish of the day.

Porcetto arrosto – oven-roasted suckling pig, served on the bone with condiments

I could smell the oven-roasted suckling pig a good 10 minutes before it came to our table, probably just after chef and owner Giovanni Pilu came around the dining room for a chat.

For seven of us, the pork on the bone arrived on two quirky, rocking cork platters – one served to our individual plates featuring condiments of candied orange peel, stewed apple slices and a minty pesto.

Oven roasted suckling pig, served on the bone with condiments

The crackling was great – a salty mouthful of crunchy pork skin; all that it should be. I found the huge, meaty hunks of pork a little on the dry side that would have been helped along with a sauce.

I’m not sure what part of the pig we received, but it was certainly a lean section, with some two-toned parts of flesh leading me to think that it was the shoulder.

Sadly though, I think my palate for roast pork will forever be spoilt by the gorgeous, juicy, shiny-skinned suckling pig at Porteño, which I doubt will ever find a match to its perfection.

Rosemary roasted potatoes

The potatoes, though, were fabulous: crunchy-skinned with a natural sweetness and fragrance of rosemary, brought out with the help of lots of sea salt.

After the long, unhurried service of the previous four dishes, most of us found it difficult to head back for seconds of the pork when 4pm was nearing. And, of course, wanting to leave some room for dessert and the evocatively-listed ‘optional extra’ cheese course. Since when was cheese optional?

Zippulas – Sardinian saffron donuts filled with cherries,
served with ‘fior di latte’ sheep’s milk gelato

Dessert was a couple of sugar-dusted donut balls, filled with a sweet cherry. The bright yellow saffron dough was unexpectedly chewy to manage with the fork and spoon, while the extra jam squiggles were appreciated for the extra sweetness.

Zippula

The sheep’s milk gelato was not to everyone’s taste, though I loved the tart, yoghurt-like flavour and combination with the slightly warm, sweet donut.

Peretta Sarda con pan brioche e miele di millefiori – Roasted Peretta cheese
with ‘millefiori’ honey and warm brioche

The majority of us went for the cheese course, and I was sure glad I did. The Sardinian Peretta cheese is, I believe, a cow’s milk cheese; here it seems, pan-roasted on both sides for the exquisite, tanned gold colour that only comes from toasted cheese.

Stringy, quite mild and just a tad creamy, I think I would have preferred crackers (or more carta di musica) over the buttery brioche. The dried grapes were the perfect sweet antidote, along with just a smidgen of honey with each bite.

Cafe latte

Coffees couldn't come sooner for some, although by this (evening) time, the hangover had subsided and a gluttonous laziness was setting in. A pillow and a doona would have been nice, but the latte and my macchiato were just as good.

Petit fours - (from left) lavender bread, white wine marshmallows,
and almond and pistachio torrone

The slate of petit fours had some scoffed for the sake of getting it all over with. It was a pretty big meal and I was sure glad I wasn't wearing skin tight jeans. The buttery circle of lavender bread was certainly floral, with a velvety shortbread texture.

The triangles of marshmallow were good fun; with quite the strong scent of (unidentified) white wine although little in the actual taste. My favourite was the torrone, a gooey block of nougat studded with crunchy almonds and pistachios. The slight contrasting salt of the latter was a wonderful flavour note to end on.

A painting I could not stop staring at in the restaurant

Nearing 5.30pm and gorged from lunch, it was all too pleasant an experience to be leaving, especially when the other option was returning out into the cold night and the Military Road traffic to get back home.

On the positive side, I had ravioli and roasted cheese to dream of, and an overall awesome (let’s face it) day at Pilu at Freshwater. Nothing quite like a four-hour taste of Sardinia lunch to deal with seediness. Hangover, what hangover?

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?