Note: Pearl Restaurant has now closed.

Amuse-bouche

I like pearls. But there was a time when I thought, given a choice, I would have chosen diamonds over pearls any day, diamonds being that much shinier. Like how Marilyn Monroe use to wax lyrical about Harry Winston in “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend”, I would nod in silent agreement and say bring them on.

Hand-strung pearls along the bar

But as I’ve gotten older, (for arguments sake, let’s say past my early 20s) my take on pearls has mellowed. Pearls are classy, and I must confess I wouldn’t mind some of those now in my jewellery box. They would be the perfect accessory to chic work suit, just the touch to make you feel like you’ll ace that job interview no matter what. Or they could dress up a classic evening gown, with enough glamour to light up any venue, from ballrooms of Britannia Hotels to cruise ships and fine restaurants. Diamonds could be reserved for the most dazzling occasions! Not that I have either diamonds or pearls mind, it’s just that they would both be nice to have. Sigh. A girl has to dream…

Anyway, my pre-ramble was brought on in part by the occasion of my dinner at Pearl Restaurant the other night. I adore Pearl Restaurant. I’ve been there on a couple of occasions, even managing to high-tail it once to the private dining room. My experiences at Pearl in the past have always been thoroughly enjoyable: great food, accomplished service, good company. And befitting a gem of a restaurant, it’s all shiny and sparkling.

Over a million hand-strung pearls dangle along the length of the bar which you must strut past in order to arrive at your table. They shimmer and emit soft flashes of shine in an all too seductive, ‘come hither’ kind of way. The bar is elegance personified: classically beautiful, classy and chic with warm walnut panelling, comfortable leather armchair seating and touches of marble throughout. Walking along this bejewelled path, one can’t help but feel that it would have been rather appropriate to be slinking down in a sexy little black Armani number with killer Manolo Blahniks and some gorgeous little pearls to boot.

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Roasted partridge with white truffle broth

I once entered into a humorous discussion with an American about English slang. And by that I mean slang used by British people for he really didn’t consider it correct to call such slang ‘English’. He was American after all, and from cowboy country – Texas to be exact, with a cowboy hat to show for it. Newly arrived in London, everything was quite astoundingly strange to him. For those of you who have ever had the experience of being an expatriate, the feelings of perplexity around the unfamiliarity of a new country might resound. But perhaps the most perplexing thing for him was the ‘language’. “Bob’s your uncle?? Now what is that suppose to mean?” he would say.

Hmm, I take his point. I too am an expatriate in London, but I do know what ‘Bob’s your uncle’ means. Jamie Oliver has used it often enough on his cooking shows, but I don’t know why it means what it does. But then, I’m hardly one to ask. Not having grown up in Britain, I’ve not been exposed to certain ‘English’ slang. Take for instance the idiom ‘pig’s ear’. Goodness knows I had no idea what an ear of a pig meant until it was revealed to me at an eating expedition to the gastropub, The Pig’s Ear, as rhyming slang for beer.

The Pig’s Ear had come to my attention on account of a similarly piggy friend of mine murmuring into my little piggy ear something about having recently dined there and thoroughly enjoying it. Browsing through Peter Prescott and Sir Terence Conran’s book, Eat London, I also happened to stumble across the write-up for The Pig’s Ear. They rate it as one of the best gastropubs in London. This meant only good things, which was why my friends, S and T, and I went in search of a little piggy adventure.

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Pork belly at The Restaurant at the 3 Weeds

In a few days I am sadly due to leave the glorious sunny and temperate Sydney shores to traverse my way over many seas back to the onset of autumn in London. Like a good movie, a splendid ending was called for. I wracked my brains, wanting a memorable story with a grand dining finale. So like a good location scout, I searched and searched and think I found the spot. It’s called The Restaurant at the 3 Weeds, and here is my story…

The story:
The story begins when, as a little six year old girl, I first registered the existence of the 3 Weeds Pub in my young consciousness. Back then, it was known as the Rose, Shamrock and Thistle, a pub situated roughly somewhere halfway between where I used to live and where I went to school. There would be many occasions when I’d walk past it, realising it was a place where those big grown ups would go to drink and be merry.

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Mini vanilla cupcakes with chocolate icing

Things have gotten desperate. I was only half an hour away from having lunch and I found myself in dire need of a cupcake. This time I decided to try The Cupcake Bakery, one half of the cupcake duopoly in Sydney’s city centre (the other half being Cupcake on Pitt). Unlike Cupcake on Pitt where there are over two dozen flavours, there are only 12 flavours on offer at The Cupcake Bakery, predominantly the perennial favourites such as vanilla on vanilla, chocolate on vanilla, chocolate on chocolate, etc. They are perhaps not as creative or as prettily decorated as the cupcakes offered at Cupcake on Pitt, but a cupcake is a cupcake after all, and I was unable to stop myself, lunch or no lunch.

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Note: Sadly this restaurant closed in 2012.

Sirloin steak with garlic butter

Many moons ago I was beckoned to Bird Cow Fish on the back of some glowing reviews when it first opened in the trendy inner-city Sydney suburb of Balmain, although no doubt I’d have paid it a visit anyway on the sheer ingenuity of its name alone. For me, that particular experience was surprisingly memorable. I do not profess to be an amorous gnocchi fan, sometimes finding even superior versions to be a little starchy and heavy. So it was surprising to discover on that visit that it was the gloriousness of the gnocchi at Bird Cow Fish that wowed me, their version proving so incredibly light and delicate as to have the effect of melting in my mouth. Two and a half years ago, Bird Cow Fish relocated to a new farmyard, to another trendy inner-city suburb of Sydney, Surry Hills. Again I was beckoned, this time to see if I could recapture the taste that was.

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The fresh sashimi selection at Musashi

My modus operandi when perusing a Japanese menu is usually one of indecision. Having many favourites, I want to eat and order everything, from the sushi and sashimi to all the various different types of cooked foods. My Japanese food palate was well honed by a three-month home stay in Tokyo as a high school student when I was studying Japanese at school. My housemother was a wonderful cook, and extremely versatile, providing me with a tremendous introduction to Japanese cooking. There were many dishes that she made which I still reminisce about today. Not only were they delicious, they were also home-styled dishes, some of which I have never come across in a Japanese restaurant since.

Japanese was on the menu tonight as we headed to Musashi Restaurant. Named after one of Japan’s most famous Japanese samurais, Musashi Miyamoto, it is located towards the Chinatown end of town, on a not-so-trendy corner. However that certainly didn’t appear to have undermined its popularity. I could see from a distance as we walked towards the restaurant that there was a long queue and it was barely 7pm. As is my habit, I moaned about having to wait, but at least its policy of numbered ticketing for waiting customers allowed me a 25 minute wait time to overcome any indecision I may have had about what to select from the menu.

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What is it about Korean BBQ that always draws in the crowds? There is something about sizzling meat on the table in front of you that is so mouth-wateringly appealing. Korean BBQ is perhaps the most well known aspect of Korean cuisine, but travelling through South Korea a few years back opened my eyes to how expansive Korean food actually is, and it is not limited to barbequing meat. There is incredible variety, all tasty, and generally spicy with an abundance of garlic, ginger and red chilli paste. It’s also filled with lots of vegetables, so also extremely healthy. I loved my trip to South Korea, and for the most part it was due to the discovery of my love for Korean food. It’s interesting how memories of a holiday are often largely shaped and influenced by one’s memories of how much one may have enjoyed the food.

A fairly recent addition to the Sydney dining scene is the Korean restaurant, Live. Focusing mainly on barbeque, it also serves a range of different cooked Korean dishes. My favourite Korean dish is bibimbap, a dish with a rice base; it is topped with minced beef, finely chopped sautéed and seasoned vegetables, and a fried egg. When brought to the table, all the ingredients are then mixed through the rice. The rice is also flavoured with sesame oil which makes the dish quite fragrant. Wowed by the taste of bibimbap the first time I tried it in Seoul, I’ve never been able to resist ordering it at a Korean restaurant since.

Bibimbap

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One of the great things about dining out in restaurants in Australia is the BYO concept (bring your own). It is quite commonplace in Australia, although at the higher end of the dining scale, a corkage fee is usually charged. BYO makes dining out more affordable and of course ensures that your choice of wine is available. And should you forget to bring your own bottle or simply wish for only a cheeky glass, most restaurants have a wine list too. When dining out at a pricey establishment, this can help to ease the final heartache of the bill whilst allowing you to maintain certain dining standards.

So it was with this in mind that my sister and I tried to decide on which fine dining restaurants we wanted to feast at whilst I was in Sydney. However, we are both born with a foodie DNA, and both quite particular (although some might choose to say fussy). So indecision struck, despite a revamped approach to our dining budget, and I was left to busily browse through the Sydney Good Food Guide (2009) to try and secure a restaurant for a Friday night. Fumbling, I finally stumbled across the entry for Claude’s French Restaurant.

Claude’s French Restaurant opened in 1976, and as one might deduce from the name, serves French cuisine. I last visited Claude’s some ten years ago when it was revered as a destination restaurant. Since then it has placed a new head chef at the helm, so the Claude’s of yesteryear is no more. According to the Sydney Good Food Guide, the new chef Chui Lee Luk is the leading female chef in Australia, ‘bringing vigour and a new level of experimentation to the food’. Surely this promised to be one of the top restaurants in Sydney? My expectations were high and we set off with our own bottle in tow.

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