The lunch collective - Part I

A collection of city lunching: on the go, alone, at wine o'clock, and other all sorts.

Chai latte and pumpkin and bacon tart from The Goods Organic,
Crown Street, Darlinghurst

Past the quiet lull of Oxford Street on a weekday afternoon is an organic gem that's music to the hungry conscience. Sitting in a fridge full of salads and sandwich goodies are house baked tarts - this one a pumpkin and bacon variety that's eggy, but none too creamy, oily nor cheesy. Add to that an organic coffee (or chai latte in this case), homely but snazzy interiors, and overflowing bookshelves, and you've got a weekend lunch on a weekday.

Glutinous rice stick from Mother Chu's Taiwanese Gourmet,
Dixon Street, Haymarket

It doesn't look much but this has to be the easiest meal on the go ever. It consists of a fried stick of dough, or yau ja gwai in Cantonese, rolled in pork floss and encased in glutinous rice. The dough stick is usually a bit oily and chewy, the pork floss lends the sweet flavouring, and the rice is your carb fix. It's probably more a snack than a meal, but when you're rushing from place to place in that precious hour, it does some good for the growling stomach.

Grilled ginger pork set from Sakura, Pitt Street, Sydney

A tiny little Japanese restaurant sitting next to my regular haunt of Cupcakes on Pitt, Sakura do a brisk trade with lots of the expected lunch sets and suits squishing in and out of the tight seating. This buda shogayaki comes with a generous serve of pork fillets sauteed in a sweet and sour sauce with capsicum, onions and the occasional mushroom. The ginger flavour escapes me, other than the pickled gari on the side. It's served with a little salad on the side and a bowl each of steamed rice and miso soup.

Panini and a glass of wine from The Falconer,
Oxford Street, Darlinghurst

This looks quite the idyllic lunch but wasn't in the sense that it was about 4pm and I'd just left an unpleasant meeting. The panini took me right back to something I'd had on the island of Capri in Italy - escapism at it's best - with a fruit fly-attracting glass of French viognier. Grilled toasty white bread with prosciutto, stringy smoked mozzarella, juicy tomato and basil - perfection between two slices.

Roquet salad with grilled chicken from Urban Bites,
King Street, Newtown

There's something about sunshine at lunch that is comforting and heart-warming; perhaps harking back to the days of primary school playgrounds. This salad was a little disappointing: seemingly aged rocket, unripe tomato and a bland, pedestrian dressing lifted only by the chopped parsley on the chicken, surprisingly. Nothing that a bit of philosophising company, overly sweet chai lattes and a bit of sunshine can't remedy.

Aimless big brekkies

It wasn't the brekky that was aimless - it was some of those consuming it. If there was one word to describe eating out for breakfast or brunch, it would have to be 'leisurely'. Nothing beats waking up and heading to a cool, little brekky venue while everyone else is trudging off to work or chores or what have you.

This muggy morning we trundle off to the cafe mecca of Newtown to leisurely break the fast and get parking right in front of Urban Bites. I do enjoy my outdoor seating, as long as it's not in searing hot sun nor overpopulated with smokers. This day it is not the former but unavoidably the latter.

It's a big breakfast menu at Urban Bites with even lamb cutlets as a breakfast option - the first time I've ever seen that. Indecision normally doesn't plague me at breakfast. I guess many a time I'm half asleep and will eat whatever is served to me. But given the choice, it's difficult to go past a good bit of bacon.

(Clockwise from top) Corn fritters, toast, grilled tomatoes with
spinach and bacon from Urban Bites (King St, Newtown)

Another important lesson for breakfast dining is knowing your serving sizes. The corn fritters plate is listed on the menu as a vegetarian meal, with me opting to add on extra bacon. Overzealous? I think so. The packaged butter, conveniently sitting on top of my fritters and bacon, is liquid upon opening so I pour my butter onto my standard white toast. On that, with so many amazing bread varieties I'm a little surpised to get pretty average, albeit thick, white bread. Perhaps I'm just accustomed to brown or grain but a bit of exotica would be welcomed, I think.

I dig into my hefty serve of bacon, which in hindsight I should have requested crispy. It's decent anyway, and not dripping in oil or fat which is pleasing. The grilled tomato wedges look festive with the spinach leaves and I taste the corn fritters last. Expectation has done funny things to my palate. I want tonnes of sweet, juicy, crunchy corn kernels in a light, egg-y batter; maybe a bit of spice or other seasoning. I get a mouthful of mostly floury batter interspersed with corn and random bits of capsicum. Expectation deflates and I go back to the bacon for comfort. Maybe the second taste will be better, I silently hope, but to no avail.

Fellow breakfasters, in the meantime, are energetically getting through their noticeably smaller meals. Will I ever learn?

(Clockwise from top) Toast, bacon, scrambled eggs
and grilled tomato

(Clockwise from top) Toast, scrambled egg, smoked salmon
on rocket and grilled tomato