Felix, one chic cat

Stray down Ash Street behind the Ivy and you'll discover a little sliver of somewhere else. I choose to see this as a new side to Sydney; a darker, sleeker, more understated Sydney. Not to say the masses aren't still trying to get into Pool Bar. It's just that there are nearby alternatives too now.

Felix Bistro and Bar, Ash Street, Sydney

Felix is the newest addition to the Merivale litter (not sure how far away Ms. G's is), and it's a keeper. Down the laneway directly opposite Ash Street Cellar, Felix is a relatively spacious and breathtakingly stunning bistro at first glance with Lauren Murdoch heading up the kitchen.

Inside Felix Bistro

It's all style as the luxe restaurant reveals itself in warm lighting and wooden surfaces, tiled floors walls - some with mosaics, red candle lamps and bentwood chairs, suited and vested waiters and loads of Parisian chic. The adjoining bar looks like it comes direct from the 1950s, with its booze lined shelves and excluding the CBD bankers having Friday drinks.

The restaurant is fairly empty as we arrive for what I was told over the phone is the early sitting, though the bar is packed and noisy. It continues to be noisy through the night, and I have a little trouble hearing the waiter tell us that there are no rotisserie items available this night. Forgiven, considering they only opened four days ago.

Felix actually reminds me a lot of Uccello, the French cousin perhaps. It's dark and stylish, loud and filled with the genetically and wealth blessed, while serving serious, traditional cuisines. And it's a laneway instead of a pool for viewing entertainment.

Oyster bar

The food menu is manageably varied but with a dedicated oyster bar, I can't go past the freshly shucked oysters, especially at the end of a sticky, humid day. The wine list, on the other hand, is a tome and looking at the wine collection behind the oyster bar, help from the sommelier does not go astray.

Bread station

As I remember from Ash Street Cellar, bread is freshly sliced from the loaf, and here a dedicated station holds loaves of sourdough.

Perhaps it's a French thing, but I actually found the bread service overwhelming through the night - I probably had more than three slices of bread just because it was there and kept getting refilled without being requested.

White and brown sourdough bread

Both white and brown varieties of the bread were springy and soft, and a good way to sedate the ravenous appetite at first, slathered in a quality, creamy butter of course. I also enjoy bread when I'm having oysters, just to bring down the indulgence a notch.

Oysters with lemon, horseradish cream, eschallot vinaigrette

The oysters are presented on a stand and in our case, an ice filled metal dish. Ordering six of the molluscs, we had no idea that we would be receiving two each of three varieties - from Forster, Hastings River and the last which I couldn't hear. Shame though, because that was my favourite with the creamiest flavour of all.

I'd also never had such icy cold oysters before, which I really enjoyed along with a squeeze of lemon over them all. The Forster oyster was the next favourite followed by the Hastings River which I found relatively bland but still a good platform for the tart, spicy horseradish cream.

Each table setting is also provided with a bottle of Tabasco sauce, which I didn't think was particularly French, for the express use with the oysters. I think with the oyster bar in full view, no-one was missing out on oysters as starters.

Crumbed lamb's brains, ravigot sauce, steamed daikon

If only the gorgeously crumbed and deep fried lamb's brain were non-offal croquettes of some sort, I'd be more keen. Instead, I try not to gag (I'm not good with soft and squishy offal) as my companion has the very rare brains, mushy and creamy with goo inside the crisp, deep golden outer.

The vibrant green sauce of chives and what look like mustard seeds is a good distraction, but not enough encouragement for me to go too close to the brains.

Gruyere souffle

I stay safe with my souffle instead, a browned hat or UFO shaped egg concoction featuring gruyere cheese. The melted cheese on the outside is the best part, while the hot insides are creamy if not a little floury. Loads of freshly ground pepper, and even bread, lessen the richness.

I found the gruyere sweet and nutty but reserved in flavour and couldn't help but think the addition of another, stronger flavoured cheese would be ideal for this cheese lover.

Duck confit, pickled pears and grilled radicchio

I follow up richness with richness - after all, it is French food. The duck is my pick of the mains, a perfectly tanned leg on top of grilled radicchio and pear chunks. The duck meat indeed falls from the bone with just a nudge of the fork and is none too salty. The seasoning was beautiful with warm spice notes lifting the confit up from standard.

The richness is toned down by the very bitter radicchio (I wonder if cooking it intensifies its flavour) and the very sweet, soft pears. I would have liked some freshness on the plate other than the parsley, as the well cooked duck with the well cooked bitter leaves and the well cooked pear was rather full on.

Skate, brown butter, capers, caramelised witlof

The fish is not necessarily always the healthy dish on the menu as this pool of brown butter shows. The skate produces an interesting lined 'fillet', though it's not too different in taste and texture to other flatfish.

These fillets swim in a naughty brown butter sauce, buoyed by a bunch of softly caramelised witlof leaves that again lend a strong bitterness to the dish while the capers add little extra hits of saltiness.

Garlic mash

The garlic mashed potato sounds promising and delivers. Thankfully not overly creamy, the garlic fragrance is definitely the star of this bowl. The mash is thick and creamy in texture rather than flavour, and provides very good reasons for investing in a ricer.

Green beans with parsley butter

Green beans that we actually didn't order stay with us on the table, and I'm so glad they did. I now have a benchmark for beans as these were cooked to absolute perfection. Whether it's the variety of beans or the age, I've never had such tender shoots, all perfectly green and resplendently shimmering in a parsley butter. Simple perfection in a side dish.

We didn't have time for dessert on this occasion and honestly, the noise was getting to me a little. Obviously, it's a brand new venue and it's festive season, not to mention the gorgeous bar, but I look forward to slightly quieter nights, perhaps followed by drinks at the bar once Felix purrs beyond its first few weeks.

Pure feasting at Bavarian Bier Café

When thinking Bavaria, beer certainly comes to mind, perhaps a stein or three with a pork knuckle to nibble on the side. It certainly takes me back to my visit to Munich a few years back, and while it was insanely fun at the time, I couldn’t imagine doing that more than once a year.

The stein chandelier at Bavarian Bier Café, O’Connell Street, Sydney

With Oktoberfest well and truly over, thanks to Zing I’m invited to the Bavarian Bier Café on O’Connell Street to experience a different side of Bavaria.

With seven bier cafés across Sydney and a brand new one just opened in Brisbane, it’s pretty easy to experience the essence of Bavaria in our very own backyards. And it proves to be more than just beer guzzling and pork knuckles – though that’s available too, if you so choose.

Beer and pork knuckle - just like in Munich

The evening started with a bunch of food bloggers, the guys from Zing, and Roberta Camargo and ‘Bier Professor’ Dominic Dighton from Bavarian Hospitality Group. Dom knows the history and theory of the liquid gold, but will also recommend a beer to your tastes, like a sommelier.

Stiegl Goldbrau 300ml

I started on the crisp Stiegl Goldbrau, an old favourite of mine, as Dom tells me it’s a lighter lager style that’s ideal pre meal, like champagne. He goes on to talk about the Pure Bier philosophy of the Bavarian Bier Cafés and indeed Bavaria back in the day. As per the strict Bavarian Purity Laws, or Reinheitsgebot, of 1516, the biers comprise just four natural ingredients – malt, barley, yeast and water.

This is impressive given some Australian mainstream beers contain up to 40 ingredients. I’m sure dad’s home brew doesn’t have 40 ingredients, but I’m sure there’s more than four. There’s no addition of sugar in Bavarian Bier Café’s range of Pure Biers, which is what converts to alcohol and subsequent throbbing-head hangovers.

The Pure Bier menu

The fact that there are only four natural ingredients means the Pure Biers take a longer time to brew: full fermentation versus sugar aided, self carbonating instead of carbon dioxide injections, and of course, the commute from Germany or Austria.

All made without the addition of preservatives, the Pure Biers have a shelf life ranging 6–12 months, depending on the bier. All that work for our drinking pleasure.

Freshly baked Bavarian pretzel with butter

As far as beer snacks go, the daily in-house baked Bavarian pretzel ticks all the boxes: salty, carbs for alcohol absorption and downright yum with butter spread on its warmed inners.

Roberta tells us that each Bavarian Bier Café has a team of chefs that cooks the same menu to a staggering consistency. Imagine, chefs in eight venues all making their pretzels daily, with flour imported from Germany no less.

It’s a part of their Pure Food push, highlighting that Bavarian Bier Cafés are not just beer barns – there’s pretty good eating too, using organic and sustainable produce where possible despite the difficulties in sourcing consistent produce for their growing number of restaurants.

Tomato and caramelised onion tart with goat’s cheese and rocket

We’ve decided to share entrées at our end of the table, with four between five of us suggesting the evening was going to be a gluttonous one. The entrées were the real eye-openers in terms of breaking the beer and pork knuckle stereotype.

Shall we start with a vegetarian option, perhaps? Pork knuckle free, the tomato, caramelised onion and goat’s cheese tart, topped off with a frizz of balsamic dressed rocket leaves, was a tame start with a short, buttery pastry case and lots of pesto. It’s a great combination of ingredients that should delight both vegetarian and meat-eater.

Pissaladiere with Crystal Bay prawns and garden salad

Rather French, but hey – still European, is the pissaladiere with Crystal Bay prawns. A pizza of sorts, the toppings sit on a hard, almost cracker-like base smeared with a creamy white sauce. Whole, tail-on prawns are nestled into the creamy bottom, beneath mixed leaves and Spanish onion.

I’m not sure how authentic an interpretation it is of pissaladiere, but it’s a take on pizza and a fresh alternative to traditional Bavarian fare, especially the beautiful prawns.

Bavarian antipasto platter - (from left, anti clockwise) salami, prosciutto and pork belly

I’m delighted that we have ordered the antipasto platter, a large one at that, featuring salami, prosciutto, pork belly, smoked ham, some yellow camembert cheese sauce, kipfler potato salad and pickles with European bread and butter.

Bavarian antipasto platter - (from left, anti clockwise) pork belly, smoked ham and salami

Again, not sure about the Bavarian-ness of the delicious thick-cut salami or salty, thin slices of prosciutto; but the ham had a great, particularly smokey flavour and was lovely paired. The pork belly was a little scary in its fat to meat ratio and while tender, it was a little bland.

I skipped the basket of European bread (looked like slices of rye) since I’d already scoffed a pretzel, but couldn’t go past the potato salad with its sweetly spiced dressing, or the sour and crunchy pickles.

Mediterranean flammenbrot

My favourite of the entrées had to be the flammenbrot – a Bavarian version of pizza and while I’m rather against seafood on pizza generally, I had no objection to the Crystal Bay prawns on this ‘pizza’. The base was similarly thin like the pissaladiere, but of a softer, less crunchy texture that I preferred.

The flammenbrot had a herbed soft cheese bottom and was topped with prawns, olives, caramelised onions, button mushrooms and semi dried tomatoes. It was so much like pizza, yet not, probably due to the absence of a salty, melt-y cheese and tomato sauced base. In any case, I think I could have had the whole dish and called it a night.

Hofbrau Dunkel

But more food in the form of mains beckoned. I had trouble deciding what to have from the house specials and schnitzels. I’d previously tried the tasting platter and really enjoyed it, but I wanted to try something different.

We'd also moved on to a different beer, the Hofbrau Dunkel, a dark lager that tastes unexpectedly light with some fruitiness marrying with a deep woodiness. I quite liked it but probably couldn't have much more than my 300ml stein.

Slow roasted pork knuckle served on Sebago mash and sauerkraut
with Lowenbrau Bier jus

I would have ordered the pork knuckle if I thought had the slightest chance in getting close to finishing it, or even half of it. It was a monster, about the size of a toddler’s head – for comparison. It had the most beautiful fringing of golden pork crackle, like an xylophone wrapped around the pork knuckle.

Crackling roast pork belly with Granny Smith apple compote and sautéed potatoes

There was also a bit of food envy seeing the pork belly dish; a most geometric cut of the belly with the all important crackling above slices of sautéed potato. The belly meat looked fairly fatty but evenly so, served alongside a dish of red wine apple compote.

Jager schnitzel served with sautéed potatoes

I opted for the Jager schnitzel; a veal which I don’t often have, usually in favour of chicken or pork. It came with a mushroom sauce that was a lot creamier and heavier than I anticipated. Lemon helped with flavour, but the unexpected chewiness of the veal was a bit of a downer.

However, the sautéed potatoes managed to save the day – an clever alternative to mash or fries. These small, skin-on slices of potato had been cooked with speck and onion, with both latter ingredients imparting sweetness and richness to the starchy side.

Oven baked chicken schnitzel served with green salad

The newest addition to the menu – and what I wished I’d ordered – was the oven baked chicken schnitzel, which Roberta kindly shared. The free range chicken thigh from Victoria’s Hazeldene’s poultry was juicy and tender, deliciously tangy and light in its yoghurt and Emmenthal cheese dip, which is then crumbed and oven roasted for a still crisp outer coating.

Bavarian tasting platter

Most everything is covered with the Bavarian tasting platter, proteins and sides alike. There’s the pork belly as per the standalone dish, served with stewed sweet red cabbage that’s fragrant with cinnamon. There’s a small portion of pan fried chicken schnitzel served with the apple compote.

Sausages of the Bavarian tasting platter

And there’s a selection of three mini sausages with sauerkraut and mashed potato. Simon kindly shared a sample, and I adored the cheesy kransky with its firm texture, and smoky, porky flavour. The thinner one was a Swiss bratwurst while the other was a Nurnberger sausage.

Pan fried salmon fillet special

From the day’s specials menu was the pan fried salmon fillet on a potato roesti. The sustainably sourced salmon was topped with rocket, and drizzled with balsamic vinegar.

I hesitated at the thought of dessert; I was already suitably stuffed after the main, which I couldn’t even finish. Roberta assured me that a shot of Jagermesiter or schnapps, after dessert, would solve the problem as they’re meant to act as digestive aids. I can’t quite recall my last experience with those two shots, but I’m sure it didn’t end well.

Apple strudel with vanilla anglaise

Desserts arrive and I can’t resist a bite or five of the strudel, which fills the air with homey smells of apple and cinnamon. It’s by far the most elegant apple strudel I’ve ever seen, with thin layers of apple in a neat pile within the crisp pastry. The sultanas are a sweet addition as is the vanilla ice cream which I had instead of the anglaise.

Chocolate delice with summer berries and toasted almond ice cream

I also couldn’t resist the chocolate delice, which was looking at me, tempting me with its moussey innards and glossy chocolate ganache top. It was rich with a slight bitterness, with some nuttiness in the biscuit base. The toasted almond ice cream was a highlight, with toasted honey notes in addition to the finely ground almond.

Walnut and date pudding with honey ice cream

I couldn’t fathom the walnut and date pudding, which was likened to a sticky date pudding and apparently very sweet.

Classic lemon tart with double cream

I also couldn’t try the lemon tart which looked great in its shallow pastry case, nor the aromatic cheese board with lavosh crackers. I just couldn’t do it.

Selection of cheeses served with red wine apple compote and lavosh

There was a bit of a mental drum roll that accompanied the cow bell, signalling schnapps time. It’d been a while since I’d had a shot of anything - I decided to leave those days behind me a while ago. But if it was going to help me digest the feast I’d just had, then there was only one way to go.

Schnapps and Jagermeister (second from left) - fuzzy, like I was after the shot

Arriving on a ski were our individual shots all lined up. That brought back bad memories of a ski trip, but the selection I went with reminded me of my visit to a schnapps museum in Vienna – good memories. The Bergfeuer, translated as Mountain Fire, has 50% alcoholic content and an aptly fiery red hue.

I detected fruity aromas by smell, perhaps cherry, and upon shooting it, it reminded me of the liquid red Panadol medicine we would be forced to drink when sick as children, but much nicer.

It was seriously warming; first the throat, then the lower chest area where it felt like my stomach was squashed up into. And after a while, it did feel like it helped; if anything, just burning through the copious amount of food I'd ingested.

Porcelain stein

After a good rest period letting the schnapps do its thing, I headed off clutching my gift of a porcelain Bavarian Bier Café stein, thinking about when I'd next get to use a 500ml beer vessel at home. Being festive season, perhaps not too far away. Now to cook that pork knuckle to have with the half litre.

Thanks to Roberta, Dom, Bavarian Hospitality Group and Zing for the lovely feast at Bavarian Bier Café O’Connell Street.

Bar H for hooray

Quiet corner location - check. Stylish yet unobtrusive interiors - check. Loads of friendly, welcoming staff - check. Gorgeous, fresh food - check. Huge wine list - check. Hooray, Bar H is new and fabulous in Surry Hills and so right just now.

Located on the corner of Campbell and Foster Streets (across from Cafe Ish and closer to Elizabeth Street than Crown Street), Bar H is part wine bar, part restaurant and all very casual, yet classy and welcoming simultaneously, with ex Billy Kwong head chef Hamish Ingham at the helm.

Bar H, Campbell Street, Surry Hills

On our downhill trek of Campbell Street, Bar H's warm lights and immediate charm were like a beacon to our hungry tummies and parched throats. There's a huge, long window of the open kitchen that opens out onto the footpath, and I see Hamish and team ready for the night's service.

Quinta de la Rosa, tonic and lemon (left) and Campari and blood orange juice (right)

Greeted at the door, we're led to a table for four directly opposite the tiny kitchen, with prime position on the comfy banquette. We order drinks first as we await the arrival of the other two of our four, and note minimalism in the way of mixed drinks on the menu. Wines, on the other hand, dominate the two A4 pages with local and international picks of not shocking prices.

Campari and fresh blood orange juice is a failsafe drink to start, the bitterness apparently stimulates the appetite. The juice was both sweet and refreshing, but for something different I chose the Quinta de la Rosa, a white port, with tonic and fresh lemon. It was surprisingly bitter too, lessened by squeezing the lemon quarters for some added sweetness and tang.

Warm olives with chilli

The menu at Bar H is superbly flexible, with little appetisers to nibble, more substantial charcuterie offerings, then salads and mains - with nothing too onerous for the small stove and prep area.

We have warm olives with chilli as we wait; big, green ones that taste like they've been picked not so long ago with red chillis that have more kick than their size would suggest, but never too much.

As we pit our way through the small bowl, surrounding tables virtually demonstrate Bar H's versatility: some snacking with beers at the bar while watching kitchen action; couples devouring cured meats with wine looking out to the quiet street; a bunch of guys making a meal of the menu's mains in a corner table; and a family in for the whole sharing experience. We were up for light eats pre further drinking.

Kitchen charcuterie plate

Our full table arrives to the decision that a French red would suit the evening; something I forget from the Côtes du Rhône that I wish I hadn't. Medium-bodied, fruity and very drinkable, even in stemless wine glasses of which I still have reservations about.

Our kitchen charcuterie plate arrives not long after, having seen meats sliced moments earlier at the slicer by the window. And what fabulous meats indeed: San Daniele prosciutto, jamon serrano and bresaola, the latter of which was sensationally tasty wrapped around especially long grissini sticks.

Tiny cornichons, mustard fruit and unexpected carrot ribbons completed the dish which I'd be happy to have every dinner time, or indeed before any meal.

Chicken liver pate, foie gras shavings, pickled cherries and sourdough bread

The chicken liver pate was promised with foie gras shavings, pickled cherries and sourdough bread, for what sounded a delightful spread.

The pate was stronger in flavour and not as smooth as I'm used to (the non-pate lover here), but nicely distracted by the crusty, grill-marked bread and sweet, soft cherries mixed with onion. The bit of foie gras I tasted was creamy and rich, much as expected but still putting a smile on my face.

Seared cuttlefish, pancetta, broad beans and watercress

Our next selections from the salad section were highly anticipated, for me especially the cuttlefish as I don't think it's a common menu item despite its similarity to squid. In fact I find it superior, and in this case, tenderly grilled for moments and needing no seasoning other than its partners of the salty crisps of pancetta and just cooked broad beans in the jungle of watercress.

Raw zucchini, asparagus, mint and soft boiled egg

I didn't actually know that zucchinis, or courgettes as one at the table put it, could be eaten raw - but what a discovery. Green ones shaved into ribbons and yellow ones sliced into thin rounds on this plate were velvety soft and a good sponge for other flavours.

Asparagus spears were also shaved while the two parts of the soft boiled eggs gave it an air of breakfast; a delicious salad-y one, that is; freshened up with whole mint leaves.

Strawberries, Woodside goat's curd, aged balsamic vinegar and basil

Done with the light eats, I was satisfied enough to bypass desserts although that clearly wasn't the plan for others. The strawberry dessert was the simplest and lightest offering of three, with gorgeously ripe strawberry halves drizzled in an aged balsamic that was almost caramelly, and then sprinkled with micro basil to finish.

The goat's curd was incredibly light, maybe even aerated, and matched extremely well with the strawberries, as if the contrasting flavours made the berries taste even sweeter. The micro basil was too cute though it reminded me of some seedlings I'd grown and subsequently killed.

Gorgonzola dolce

Cheese time was ever so gratifying with my first ever taste of gorgonzola dolce. A soft blue cheese without a particularly strong smell or taste that's usually distinctive of blue cheeses. And, as the name might imply, there was a sweetness to the cheese that was definitely not a salty blue.

Served with dried muscatels and figs, wedges of Granny Smith apple and a pile of crisp breads, it was the perfect way to end the meal and that delectable bottle of red.

At this point in the night, he kitchen was done and dusted, beers in hand signalling the end of another night. We'd been seated for hours and it was by far one of the most enjoyable nights out I'd had in a while.

Given Bar H is lumped into the new casual dining category that's popping up, I'd happily call it my new favourite so far. I think food is more substantial than that at Berta, while the atmosphere beats that at District Dining.

I think the freshness of the food and simple handling at Bar H is a real standout. I adore its versatility and will be looking to try out a brunch outing next. Hip, hip, hooray for Bar H.