Top billing whenever it suits

Things change yet so much stays the same. I'm pushing the definition of brunch, being close to 3.00pm, but technically as I'm just breaking the fast, I think it could be called breakfast. And given the ever-present presence of classic breakfast dishes at bills, I don't think my stomach or anyone else really minds.

Cappuccino from bills, Crown Street, Surry Hills

In hindsight the hot chocolate at bills would have been an even better remedy for cold fingers and a tender head, but the cappuccino isn't dreadful. It just doesn't feel like the soothingly strong, caffeine hit it should.

We've breakfast on our minds and neither the herbed french fries over there, nor the wagyu burger yonder will stray us from our path.

Sweet corn fritters with roast tomato, spinach, bacon and avocado salsa

There's no petite, sissiness when it comes to the corn fritters; two mammoth patties balanced and sandwiching a thick-cut bacon rasher, baby spinach leaves and roasted tomato. The avocado salsa is a revelation of ripe, creamy avocado, lemon juice (or is it lime?) and coriander; a zippy boost of flavour and goodness that would subdue any aches of the head. The fritters positively bulge with fresh corn kernels in a nice ratio to the shallot-specked batter. The spinach and tomato are complementary and necessary; the single rasher of crisp bacon perfectly sufficient; and the dish overall is very, very filling.

Ricotta hotcakes with fresh banana and honeycomb butter

Bill Granger's famous ricotta hotcakes also get a billing on our table and look mouthwatering from the get go. Three almost-ludicrously thick hotcakes hide fresh banana pieces and tempt with two rounds of butter flecked with honeycomb. A mini jug of syrup finishes off this decadent, anytime-of-the-day meal that espouses richness and sweetness - the banana a guilty concession to the sugar, dairy and carb fest.

Slowly but surely the fast is broken, if not obliterated. It's a lesson in doing whatever one wants, whenever one wants - a rebellion to routine and convention that certain changes in life have brought on. We continue the lesson by ignoring the very recent breakfast meal in favour of the actual time: wine o'clock by my watch and so it's over the road to the welcoming arms of a glass of pinot noir by the fireplace at the Dolphin Hotel. Some things will never change.

Harbour appreciation

As a lifetime Sydneysider, I'm still impressed almost every time I see the Harbour Bridge. It must be some childhood reflex to gasp in awe or smile with pride upon each sighting of our oversized coat hanger; whether it's that rare trip over the bridge, drinks at Opera Bar or even that perfectly cropped, northern view while crossing Pitt Street every morning. It's especially difficult not to be overcome with proud appreciation at Cafe Sydney.

Ascending the elevators at Customs House to the darkened reception, we're led to the deck where there's an uninterrupted panorama of Sydney harbour on a bone-chilling but cloudless winter's night. Thankfully the heating has been cranked up, combatting some of the open airiness and chill. Add to that a chilled but eventually warming bottle of Adelaide Hills' Maestro Pinot Grigio and a thorough menu, and it's not too long before we feel flustered with indecision - helped along with a waiter's suggestion or two.

Not quite the winter opener but quintessentially 'Sydney', we start with freshly shucked Sydney rock oysters on ice with eschallot and caramelised cabernet vinegar. The molluscs are beautifully fresh, oozing with a sweet creaminess that's almost bowled over by the vinegar hit of the dressing.

Peppered wagyu carpaccio, truss tomatoes, pecorino, rocket and horseradish, lemon
dressing from Cafe Sydney, Alfred Street, Sydney

After a subtantial amount of deliberation over the entrees, we've whittled down to two that almost represent opposite ends of the spectrum. The wagyu carpaccio arrives as a pretty and vibrant arrangement of its ingredients, served with stunning grissini alongside. I mostly pick at the rocket and pungent pecorino of this dish.

Sweet corn soup with scallops, roe, chives and lemon creme fraiche

The soup, on the other hand, should be the winter warmer - with scallops instead of yabby tail this evening - but only rates as a lukewarm menu item. The sweet, if not slightly bland, soup is dotted with corn kernels, the only redeeming aspect being the creme fraiche hidden beneath the somewhat overcooked scallops. The roe had a fantastic popping quality that was at odds with the soup but improving on the scallops.

De-boned spatchcock with Swiss brown mushroom, leek and thyme pithivier and jus

After an appropriate harbour-gazing and full-house people-watching pause, mains arrive to our battery-powered candlelit table. Saying that, I'd love one of those glossy candle-like lights for myself. In what looks like an Aussie-spirited pie and sausage roll, the spatchcock is deemed tender and juicy, pairing nicely with a meat-filled pithivier 'pie'.

Herb crusted lamb loin with confit shoulder, rainbow chard, Jerusalem artichokes and jus

My choice of the lamb arrives two ways: a medium-rare grilled loin with a too-subtle herb crust and a flavour-packing confit of shoulder which came away with the fork alone. The jus helped mask the strong gaminess of the tender loin meat as did the creamy puree of Jerusalem artichokes beneath the chard and other diced vegetables. A side of a rocket and parmesan salad ups the vegetable count.

Now it would seem that either eating out is well and truly back on the agenda for recession-fighting locals, or tourists are like moths to the light of Sydney winters - for the "time restriction" on our table was approaching and it looked like we were to be booted out. I know nothing about restaurant management, but this is a very unlikeable practice that I'm seeing more and more.

Relocated to some pretty comfortable and nap-worthy seating directly in front of the bar, we fight the urge to express dissatisfaction and instead order desserts from an enticing menu, watching cocktail bartenders in action as we wait.

Caramelised quince tarte tatin with honey ice cream

Admittedly pretty full after all the savoury food, I confess to wanting three of the six desserts on offer. Gluttony is a sin, I'm told, so it's just the quince tarte tatin for me, crouched over a low bar table (at least it's only dessert, unlike the two-course meal happening next to us in hunch positions). The honey ice cream has me in a complete buzz while the quince has a touch of bitterness counteracting the sweet syrup and the buttery pastry that's relatively light.

Chocolate and macadamia nut tart with praline ice cream

Relative to the chocolate tart, that is. A dark sliver of the macadamia-populated tart sits ominously next to a smudge of chocolate and a sweetly nutty praline ice cream. The chocolate filling is overwhlemingly rich for me in my state, but enjoyed nonetheless.

Kicking back on our now vantage-less seating, we further witness occasional service inconsistencies and thinking back on the meal, conclude that stunning views and location come at a cost. But when it's the Harbour Bridge and twinkling gem of Sydney harbour, it's just maybe worth the detour and a course in appreciating home.

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.