Kangaroo Island Hen’s Egg ‘Atelier’

Kicking off with the Kangaroo Island Hen Egg ‘Atelier’ (silky smooth and rich with foie gras), I wondered whether it was possible to quantify just how difficult it is to survive ten years in the industry (or just how good you have to be to make it happen). It turns out that the lovely people at the Australian Bureau of Statistics (people who collect and publish data are my heroes) have used tax records to publish data on the number of businesses in different industries in Australia. I couldn’t resist taking a closer look.¹

It turns out that from June 2003 to June 2011, the number of restaurants and cafes in New South Wales was gently trending upwards, as seen in the left hand side of graph 1 (note that there are two data releases that are not directly comparable, so there is a break in the data series – see the notes at the bottom for a better description). There were over 1000 more restaurants and cafes in 2007 than in 2003, and in 2011 than in 2007. This tells us little about restaurant survival rates – there is substantial churn of restaurants, with around 20% of existing restaurants exiting each year, and an entry rate of around 23% of the starting stock of restaurants. Clearly a healthy increase in the number of restaurants does not give all restaurants an easy ride.

Graph 1: Total number of restaurants, and restaurant entries and exits in NSW, 2003-2011

We can look at the exit rates (the proportion of restaurants that exist at the beginning of the tax year that do not exist at the end of the tax year) by firm size. Here, small firms are those with fewer than 20 employees, and large firms have 200 or more. Graph 2 shows that exit rates have been reasonably constant over the time period for which we have data, but are much lower (and noisier) for larger businesses. About 88% of restaurants and cafes fall into the small business category here.

Graph 2: NSW restaurant exit rate, by employment range, 2003-2011

Now if we just use these estimates of exit rates (and expand out using the average exit rate over the time period), then the probability of a restaurant surviving from June 2003 through to today are about one in ten.² However, this assumes that all existing restaurants are equally likely to exit in any given year. There are many reasons why this might not be the case (location, cuisine, experience etc), and one important factor is how long the restaurant has already been open. We might expect new restaurants to be more likely to exit than ones that have already survived for a few years. Luckily we can (to a certain extent) check this, as the ABS have also provided data on what happened to (a) the two groups of restaurants that existed in June 2003 and June 2007 and (b) the two groups of restaurants that entered in the 2003-2004 and 2007-2008 tax years.

Graph 3 shows these numbers. On the left we see what happening to new restaurants, and on the right existing restaurants. For both groups of entrants there is a similarly high casualty rate, with around 45% of new entrants still trading four years later. On the right hand graph, those restaurants already existing are shown: they are less likely to exit, with around 62% surviving in the relevant period. So it does seem that surviving that first year (and perhaps later years) improves your future chances.

Graph 3: Survival of 2003 and 2006 entries and existing restaurants in NSW

Going back to the case in point, the impressive longevity of Atelier (which is less surprising given how much I enjoyed the caramel and szechuan pepper glazed duck with aubergine puree when we visited) can be refined a little: it should be included in the “already existing in June 2003″ category, so I can (with a few heroic assumptions), refine that 10% estimate above.

Caramel & Szechaun Pepper Glazed Duck Breast, Crisp Confit Leg, Burnt Aubergine Puree, Heirloom Grapes & Brussels Sprouts Tops

Graph 4 shows the number of restaurants that existed in June 2003 that survive in each time period, with actual (and imputed) data given by the dots. We need to extend this pattern by two years to get our 10 year survival estimate, and the graph shows simple linear and quadratic (by time) predictions, projected out to 2013.

Graph 4: Survival of NSW restaurants operating in June 2003, extrapolated to 2013

Using the quadratic model (which is clearly a better fit), I predict that, of 18504 restaurants existing in June 2003, there will be about 4640 remaining in 2013: a survival rate of about 25%. This is an overestimate of the true survival rate, since it doesn’t take into account how new Atelier was in 2003 (just a couple of months old), but gives an upper bound to go with that 10% lower bound. One thing is for sure, the statistics show that the odds are against restaurants surviving for ten years.

So, having established that keeping a restaurant going for ten years is not easy in New South Wales, where does that leave us? Unfortunately the data don’t let me look at the characteristics of those restaurants that do survive, but that doesn’t stop me from speculating. It seems obvious that surviving restaurants will be, all other things equal, the better restaurants: those offering a great value proposition that keeps customers coming back for more, and those who manage their costs, have good relationships with their suppliers, and can weather any storms that random shocks might throw at them. Of course, sometimes these shocks are just too big.

Alternatively, perhaps it’s just the ability to consistently serve extremely impressive soufflés.

Milk Chocolate Ganache Souffle, Yoghurt Sorbet, Green Peppercorn Milkshake

Restaurant Atelier
22 Glebe Point Road, 2037
Tuesday to Saturday from 6pm

Footnotes:

1. If you just want to hear about and see Atelier’s amazing food, try here, here or here.

2. Extending to 2013 using the average exit rate gives a survival probability of 0.099, using the minimum observed exit rate gives 0.104 and using the maximum gives 0.093.

(Slightly) more technical notes:

All graphs and back of the envelope calculations are produced using data from the ABS “Counts of Australian Businesses, including Entries and Exits” covering 2003-2007, and 2007-2011. The scope and definition of a business changed between the two surveys, so the time series above are not continuous – notably in the later release businesses were only counted if actively trading, therefore the count of restaurants and cafes at June 2007 is 1483 lower in the later release. Data on total numbers, and of numbers of entries and exits used for graphs 1 and 2 above, is based on the “Cafes and Restaurants” industry classification; survival rates of existing and entering businesses are based on ANZIC Industry Subdivision “Food and Beverage Services”, so again these are not directly comparable.

For graph 2, I have defined small firms as the sum of those with no employees and those with fewer than 20 employees, since I’d expect a lot of movement between these two categories that will be correlated with the probability of exiting. For graph 4, I have assumed that the ongoing survival rate of businesses that existed in June 2003 and still existed in June 2007 can be represented by the survival rates from the series in the second release (existing businesses in 2007 and their survival through to 2011). So there’s plenty of assumptions made, and inconsistencies in the data, and what’s presented above is a pretty rough extraction, analysis and presentation. I’ll gladly receive any comments about what I should have done differently – leave me a comment or email me!

I am, however, going to shamelessly use the lazy blogger’s approach: a list. Here’s 10 Sydney observations, and a few notes about places I want to go to eat, drink and otherwise be merry in 2013.

1. Coffee

Before I moved out to Australia I didn’t drink coffee. At all. Now the prospect of spending a few days in the US and within a general dearth of good coffee has lead me to run out to the Little Marionette, buy a couple of bags of freshly roasted single origin beans, and pack an aeropress in my suitcase. I’m well and truly hooked. And quite frankly, that’s very easy in Sydney. I’m still in awe of a great barista’s ability to extract a syrupy, sweet espresso, and as much as I hate to admit it, the cafe culture is one of the things that makes Sydney home for me. Great coffee, made by people who really care, and accompanied with great food (oh, the Wedge pulled pork sandwich is good, see point 4 below), has been a revelation for this previously small town Brit. I officially can’t live with out it. Please keep it up, Sydney baristas!

2. Beer, Wine and Cocktails

Thinking about drinking coffee brings me straight on to my other love. Now, good sources of great drinks unlike coffee are not new to me, and Sydney still definitely has some deficiencies – the good old English pub is really not that well represented (hint: serve desserts, and don’t judge people who just wander in for a drink and something custard-based. I miss the Kingston Arms). But the explosion of small bars I’ve been lucky enough to see, that certainly continues in the inner west (I’m looking forward to forthcoming Newtown bars from Sydney small bar veterans, though the trusty Little Guy in Glebe will be hard to beat), has been great. I’ve learned I have a love of the hard booze – the Smoking Gun from Button comes to mind – and shows just how much care goes into the barrel ageing/house made bitters/general artisan bent of cocktails in Sydney. From what I’ve read, I think this is now taking off back home, but for me it’s a Sydney thing.

Moreover, the passion for great cocktails easily extends to the passion for wine – Love, Tilly Devine and Fix St James continually surprise and delight me with their suggestions, and I’m always grateful for their patience. Beyond developing a dependence on a good macchiato, my love for beer has also grown strongly (mostly with the thought that if I can’t beat them, I should join them – and wow, the craft beer scene here is good. The Tap House is a stand out, but I do aim to spend more time at the Union in Newtown, and new favourite Frankie’s Pizza in 2013.

3. Mexican

Now to an observation I’m less enthusiastic about. It seems impossible to move for Mexican food in Sydney. People book ahead, queue for, and rave about all of the tacos. I don’t really get it. Most of it doesn’t seem very good. Perhaps I was spoiled back in the UK, but the average burrito here just seems quite poor. I’m yet to try District Dining’s successor, Mexico Food and Liquor, so perhaps that will convince me, but I really do struggle to trust the rave reviews.

4. Pork

Nevermind the year of the Dragon, for me 2012 has definitely been the year of the Pig. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so excited, or seen so many other people excited, by the mention of pork belly. From Xanthi’s

pork belly baklava, Bar H’s pork buns and Momofuku’s barbecued pork ‘petit four’ to my new favourite, the amazing pulled pork and fennel sausage roll at Hamish Ingham’s new pad, Grain Bar, I’ve been well and truly hooked (and that’s before I even get to my new friend the Banh Mi). On top of all of that, I managed to get to a Pork Masterclass at Restaurant Atelier (I can now make amazing crackling), and a bacon making class run by Urban Food Market, which has been quite transformative. I’m kind of hoping that rumours that lamb neck might be the new pork belly are true, but as long as that doesn’t reduce my pork bun consumption!

5. Fine Dining

One of the benefits of going from being a one income household to a two income household (bye bye, PhD) has been increased access to Fine Dining. Sydney is definitely a good place for this to happen. I’ve not, however, been convinced by the frequently repeated received wisdom of the Good Food Guide Hat system (is Ms G’s really worth a hat? really?). It seems there are a whole host of generally underrated restaurants turning out some exceptional, exciting food with great service. My two standout meals of 2012 were Sixpenny (my most read blog post, mainly because I was, by complete chance, first) and the beautiful textures of Oscillate Wildly. Both were truly memorable meals and I look forward to inventing occasions for return visits. Another restaurant worthy of a special mention is Atelier in Glebe, which I’ve visited at least four times proper, and more for masterclasses and pigs-on-spits (yes, pork again). All I have to say is that it’s nice to have a ‘local’ fine diner, and if you’ve not been, please go. You won’t regret it.

6. The Speakeasy

It’s difficult to think about the food trends I’ve experienced in Sydney without mentioning the hidden, speakeasy-style bar or restaurant that always gives that bit of excitement about an evening out. The success of the hidden lane way bars is so great that even the chains are replicating them, with recent additions Palmer and Co from Merivale and The Rook from the Keystone Group. I know it’s a gimmick, but I can’t help but be excited to venture down unmarked lane ways, wander into office buildings and take the lift to the top floor and emerge into a space you never imagined could exist. That a number of these places nicely coincide with those serving drinks with serious levels of passion probably helps.

On the speakeasy theme, I was also lucky enough to get to a preview night of fellow blogger SarahKate’s Mi Casa Su Casa supper club preview night. The food was delicious, the company good, and I’m pretty sure will be a trailblazer for the supper club concept – I can’t imagine Sydneysiders not going wild for it. Book in if you get the chance!

7. Bloggers

Early in the year, I set up this blog. I’m still not quite sure why. I don’t harbour dreams of translating it into my day job (even if I wanted to, my visa wouldn’t let me), and I certainly haven’t seen
a return in freebies and event invitations (which is as things should be – this is of course a vanity project). Despite all of this, I couldn’t be more glad I took the plunge. Even if no one else reads anything I write, this blog has introduced me to so many people, none of whom are economists, and this is absolutely a good thing. Thank you so much to the incredibly warm Sydney food blogger community for being so welcoming, especially to a Pom who’s not sure what SEO means, and doesn’t know her ISO from her aperture!

8. Restaurants opening/closing

It’s difficult to talk about eating out in Sydney in 2012 without saying something about the large number of high profile restaurant closures. Becasse, Montpellier Public House, Bird Cow Fish and Cotton Duck are all restaurants that closed before I managed to visit. Against a backdrop of struggling restaurants, some of the hand-wringing and despair is perhaps understandable. Looking in from the outside, however, it’s difficult not to notice the phenomenal amount of restaurant openings that have also occurred, many with huge acclaim and long queues or waiting lists. There’s clearly demand for food in Sydney, and it seems like the best restaurants manage to adapt to this and make a go of things – being a great chef is not enough. One related point that I have been outraged by, however, is the prevalence of people making restaurant bookings and then not showing up – this is the height of rudeness, and I hope everyone is making a new year’s resolution to just never even consider doing this.

9. Provenance

And another criticism. Australia, I can’t tell you how distressed I was when I found out that I couldn’t trust the words ‘free range’ on a box of eggs. Coming from a country where you would go down in the estimation of many people if they heard you weren’t buying proper free range eggs, my first few months in the country are something of an embarrassment. This sort of feeds into another Sydney food trend I’ve noticed – an increasing desire to know more about where food has come from, and how well any animals involved might have been treated. From my perspective, this goes without saying, and at a personal level we now make a much bigger effort to source eggs and meat properly – more than anything, it does just taste better. One great example of this was the enormous pork belly acquired via Detective Chow, where we even had a photo of the boar in question. It made amazing triple hopped bacon.

10. What I missed out on

The biggest thing I’ve realised from eating and drinking my way around Sydney in 2012 is that there’s just far too much to do to ever get to everything I’d like to. I’ve already mentioned a desire to drink more craft beer in 2013, but there are so many other things I need to do. I haven’t eaten nearly enough Yum Cha, and I’ve not ventured to nearly enough of Sydney’s famous food suburbs. Moreover, any list I make just keeps on growing – I really want to try the cocktails at Bulletin Place, eat Melbourne’s finest tapas at Movida, and am really looking forward to trying all of the new bars set to hit Newtown. There’s one thing for sure, I’m looking forward to 2013 in Sydney, and hope the blog posts may continue!

An impulsive house move and busy times at work have left me little time for blogging recently, but it’s not quite stopped us running around Sydney. Birthdays and the whirlwind of time that’s passed in the year since we arrived here gave us a great excuse to venture out East(ish) to Woollahra in search of Champagne and reminisce about our largely vineyard-based honeymoon.

One Moncur is a newly refurbished corner pub at the intersection of Moncur and Wallis Streets, and it’s well worth venturing past the slightly scruffy exterior to the plush fit out and pulling up a seat alongside the locals. Aside from the usual suspects (and of course enough beer, wine and spirits to satisfy anyone who’s not quite convinced about the bubbles), the champagne list has a healthy representation of grower champagnes: those grown and produced in small quantities, often carrying on the family tradition. This was what we were here for, so we opted for glasses of the Jean-Paul Perardel ($16) to kick off proceedings. With 60% pinot meunier, this certainly isn’t your average glass of Veuve — and all the better for it. My only criticism: the straight sided flutes don’t really do the delicate, yeasty flavours justice.

My one gripe, however, was easily forgiven with our second choice: a half bottle of Pierre Gerbais NV ($61), a fresher, sweeter drop served in matching coupes. There’s also a short but well curated selection of cheese and charcuterie to keep the champagne drinking going: a ploughman’s platter (I never can quite resist a pork pie) came with pickles, clothbound cheddar, salami and sun dried tomatoes.

With a good stream of corks popping, One Moncur certainly brought back memories of sipping grower champagnes in the cafes and bars of Epernay. I just hope that the trend towards grower champagnes in Sydney continues!

One Moncur
One Moncur Street, Woollahra, 2025
Monday to Saturday, 4-11pm; Sunday 4-10pm

District Dining had long been on my Sydney dining hit list, but circumstances conspired to keep me away until last weekend, when a reservation was secured and the much discussed crispy pigs’ ears finally emerged over the horizon.

So, was it worth the wait? The crispy pigs’ ears were salty, perfect pork scratchings – less a match for my chosen rhubarb bellini than a good pint of beer, but a great start nonetheless. It was the starters that really stood out: courgette flowers with ricotta were sweet, crisp and perfectly balanced, and a special of smoked eel and tempura cauliflower with ribbons of cucumber was a great choice.

A sharp steak tartare came with hot chips and toast; so tempting that the first thought of taking a photograph was long after the perfect quenelle had been attacked. Spiced, braised lamb shoulder fell to pieces and served with tzatziki.

The restaurant feels deceptively large, and whilst there’s more than a hint of dude-food about the menu, the flavours are fresh and it’s even suggested that the dishes don’t have to be shared. The food certainly ticked all the boxes and the value for money is decent for this part of town, with starters around $20 and mains around $30. I look forward to another chance to escape up the Mondrian-inspired stairs to try the desserts.

District Dining
17 Randle Street, Surry Hills
Tuesday to Saturday, Lunch and Dinner

Newtown might be known for the endless rows of cheap and cheerful Thai restaurants hawking their $7 lunch deals, but just off King Street is well established Inner West fine dining gem Oscillate Wildly. With an irresistible name, I had long been looking for a reason to make a reservation: the coincidence of my birthday and a family visit triggered the call. And then I managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat: an ill husband gave me an excuse for not one but two visits – now that’s the kind of caring I signed up for in my wedding vows.

The understated decor is reflected in the minimal descriptions on the degustation only menu. Foie gras, scallop and hazelnut appears as a crunchy scallop cracker topped with sweet foie gras, foie gras sponge and hazelnuts, packing the flavour into a range of textures. The blending of textures is a theme throughout the meal: puffed wild rice adding the crunch to a scampi sashimi, and grains play the same role with duck and black garlic.

Comparing Oscillate Wildly to its former chefs’ critically acclaimed new venture just down the road is inevitable. Beetroot, Cepe and Horseradish emphasised the differences. Eschewing the Noma-esque simple treatment and presentation, this dish is encased in a nitrogen-frozen horseradish cream dome, with roasted beetroot and cepes: the oft maligned techniques of molecular gastronomy used for good, not unnecessary complication.

Cheese on toast: a parmesan ice cream on sweet brown bread crumbs added an element of fun to the evening, delivering texture as well as the salty, sweet flavour that I think all cheese courses should, and priming the palate for dessert. Grapefruit, celery and tamarillo came with freeze dried mandarin. On my second visit, I was persuaded to swap this dish for an equally good rhubarb and strawberry with truffle ice cream, which proved that the coexistence of good strawberries and rhubarb is a strong benefit of this side of the world. Pandan, Rye and Milk Jam finishes the menu, and comes with popcorn, beer foam and milk skin to give some hoppy, bitter notes.

Coupled with a thoughtful wine pairing and exceptional service, it’s no surprise that this small restaurant was packed out even on a Tuesday evening. Budget permitting, I won’t be waiting for a special occasion next time.

Degustation only menu at $100, Cheese on Toast an additional $10, matching wines $60. Two truffle courses in place of standard menu for $30.

Oscillate Wildly
275 Australia Street, Newtown 2042
Tuesday to Saturday from 6:30pm

These days Marrickville is certainly worth a battle with public transport to sample some outstanding cafes. This weekend, in conjunction with a mission to pick up some meat from Urban Food Market just down the road, we stopped by at Double Roasters on Victoria Road for a spot of brunch.

Double Roasters manages to pull off that somewhat-geeky, almost-hipster chic, with its exploded roaster diagram, op-shop teaspoons and multiple single origin beans on offer, but without the attitude. With bags of green beans stashed under the window seats and some dramatically different single origin offerings, the coffee is firmly centre stage. Ristrettos are served appropriately short, showcasing the beans, though their macchiato could benefit from a little less (though frothier) milk.

Breakfast, brunch and lunch offerings cover all the bases, from toast and pastries through pulled pork sandwiches to poached eggs. The zucchini and corn fritters ($12) are stacked with avocado and topped with an oozy poached egg, and a generous serving of house made baked beans with spinach, prosciutto and more poached eggs is a sweet, tomatoey steal for $12.

With friendly service, decent food and the kind of thrown together, rustic look that must have taken serious planning to achieve, Double Roasters ticks most of the weekend brunch boxes, and with the addition of a killer macchiato would be worth a special visit.

Double Roasters
199 Victoria Rd, Marrickville, 2204
Monday to Sunday from 6am

I’d pretty much decided to write this review with the conclusion that the food is so bad, it’s brilliant. With expansive tartan, deep fried almost everything, and Irn Bru to wash it all down, the Abercrombie pub certainly lives up, or down, to the artery-clogging expectations of Scottish food.

On reflection, however, that conclusion is unfair. Yes, the deep fried pizza is, well, just that: slightly oily, battered carbohydrate, and eating it is surely taking minutes off your life (but what a life, if you’re spending it in the Abercrombie). The menu is padded out with cheap favourites (tacos, nachos, hot dogs and fried chicken), done well enough to soak up an evening’s drinking, but not worth a special culinary visit.

In amongst all of this there are a couple of gems. The deep fried mac n cheese balls are creamy, cheesy and served with a sharp aioli, hot chips are topped with gherkins and come with a side of meaty gravy, and the pulled pork burger with asian slaw is really delicious.

Concentrating on the food, however, really misses the point. The Abercrombie takes itself far from seriously, cranking out cocktails served in bags with glow sticks and fruity specials topped with Passion Pop. Granted, the food’s not going to be winning any awards, but who really cares when there’s Irn Bru, deep fried pizza, and the promise of a visit to the organic famers’ market to atone the next morning.

The Abercrombie
100 Broadway (corner of Abercrombie Street), 2007
Open 7 days for lunch, dinner and drinks

A couple of weekends ago we lined up two days of food-related excitement, both the result of jumping into some twitter conversations. Saturday evening saw us jump on a train to Harris Park in search of the curry that I and others who have recently left the UK were sorely missing. Plus, we had our very own guides to the Wild West of Sydney to help us out.

After filling up on huge, cheap bags of spices at the local shops, we headed to Spice of Life (“The Biggest Indian Restaurant in Australia”), on Harris Park’s curry mile (Wigram Street). With a bunch of hungry, curry deprived bloggers and plus ones we got good coverage of the menu. My must eats of Lamb Saag and Chicken Korma hit the spot, and the dahl we ordered was exceptional. A much craved lamb vindaloo was initially disappointing, but quickly whisked away to be replaced with a new, improved and spicier version. Topped off with naan breads, rice and plenty of bottles of Kingfisher (the necessity of Kingfisher with curry being one thing we could teach the Aussies), dishes were shared, curry experiences exchanged, and stomachs rapidly filled. I’m sure we’ll be making a return visit to Harris Park to top up our spices and satisfy the already-growing curry cravings again.

Having made it back to the city, we slept off the curry before waking up to another day of food: a pork crackling masterclass (aka #Porkfest) at Restaurant Atelier in Glebe. Allowed a peak into the professional kitchen, Chef Darren Templeman let us in on the tricks of great roast pork in a domestic oven. The trick? Don’t score the skin, but cure it with salt and spices overnight to draw out the moisture. Lightly coated with oil, the skin crisps and puffs up as if by magic, giving the best pork crackling I’ve ever tasted. Confit pork, pork jowl, pork rillette and pork bubble (deep fried dehydrated pork skin – it’s the future) rounded out the mix of pork-based goodness demonstrated and tasted.

After these appetisers, we sat down in the restaurant to share a feast of roast pork shoulder, pommes aligot, mushrooms and green salad. The pork was slow roasted and fell to pieces, but on top of the massive pork exposure of the morning, it was the pommes aligot made with beautiful comte cheese that stole the show for me. A small but perfectly formed dessert of mascarpone custard, chocolate ice cream, ‘granola’ and pop rocks finished off the day.

We left armed with recipes, a take-home bag of pork to practice on (I can confirm the recipes really do work) and a new favourite local restaurant. Spices, curry, pork and pop rocks? Not far off a perfect weekend.

#Porkfest was a #TwEATup organised by Karen Lateo (@VanityFare1), and was $140 per person for the class, lunch, take-away samples and recipes. Follow Karen on Twitter for information about future events (I hear game might be in the pipeline).

Spice of Life
116 Wigram Street, Harris Park 2150

Restaurant Atelier
22 Glebe Point Road, Glebe 2037
Tuesday to Saturday from 6pm

Back in the UK, I was spoiled with the selection of pubs on my doorstep (oh, how I miss the Kingston and its cookies). Finding a replacement second home out here in Sydney has been high on my list of priorities, though the standard corner pub combination of pokies, big screen sports and Toohey’s New just doesn’t quite cut it. One of a few beacons of light in the otherwise disappointing Sydney offering (yes, the small bars are amazing, but they’re just not pubs) is the Local Taphouse on Flinders Street in Darlinghurst.

The Taphouse takes its beer seriously, with 20 rotating taps showcasing an ever changing range of local and international craft beers, lagers and ciders and a long bottle list in case any of those don’t take your fancy. In the downstairs bar, underneath the signs suggesting that you “DRINK BEER” (don’t mind if I do) they have one beer pumped through the ‘funky brewster’, adding additional flavour to further enhance the beer – on my last visit the Lindemans framboise came with an added raspberry punch resulting in the perfect gateway beer.

Food is also plentiful, with pizzas, burgers and some pub favourites on offer. The towering burger complete with extreme onion ring and served with beer battered potato and sweet potato wedges is impressive and has been won the Sydney Morning Herald’s Good Pub Food Best Burger for a couple of years running. Not having done an exhaustive search, I can’t comment on whether or not that’s warranted, but it’s certainly a great pub burger. Smaller dishes including koftas and meatballs are generously portioned and good value.

More than just a temple for beer-loving Sydneysiders, the Taphouse also promotes beer appreciation through its events, and a couple of Sundays ago we headed over to their Ale Stars evening, a monthly meeting of beer geeks that brings together a few beers and brewers and throws in a bit of trivia and pizzas for some fun times. This evening welcomed Kjetil Jikiun from Norwegian brewery Nøgne ø, the unapologetic, uncompromising craft brewery founded by an airline pilot wanting to bring craft beer to Scandinavia. We tried four beers and heard plenty of war stories.

The Brown Ale (4.5%) is one of Nøgne ø’s session ales (an alcohol level sufficiently low to be sold in Norway’s supermarkets). With a huge variety of malts involved, there’s a sweet malty background with a hoppy high note. In contrast, the Saison (6.5%) makes yeast the star resulting in a banana flavour with hints of citrus. My favourite for the evening was the Porter (7%), a fruity, malty, hoppy, roasty and rich. I’m told it might sit on the border between a Porter and a Stout – all I know is that I liked it. The final beer for the evening was the Imperial IPA #500 (10%). This was surprisingly sweet, almost syrupy with plenty of citrus high notes. Out to please the craft beer aficionados, this was definitely not sessionable – and perhaps that’s the point: beer made with passion should be savoured, and if you identify with that, there aren’t many better places in Sydney than the Taphouse.

Ale Stars events take place once a month, and can be booked in advance from the Taphouse website. Tickets are $30 each, with four generous tastes of beer, pizza, chips and plenty of beer chat.

The Local Taphouse
122 Flinders St, Darlinghurst, NSW 2010

Wanting to make the most of the tasting opportunities, and not yet being able to justify hiring a driver for the day, we booked ourselves onto a tour. There are plenty of tours taking visitors from Melbourne to the Yarra Valley, but we stumbled across a tour of the Macedon Ranges, just an hour from the centre of Melbourne, which promised the opportunity to taste some boutique wines without (as many) crowds.

Having been collected from the CBD at 9am, we had a glass of wine in our hands by 10am, in a tasting at Gisborne Peak. With an extensive range of wines and friendly guidance through the range, the process of convincing me that sparkling red wine is a good idea continued, with a particularly enjoyable sparkling pinot noir on offer.

After a reasonable level of pre-lunchtime drinking, we were back in the van and on to lunch, with a stop at Hanging Rock: lamb burgers were washed down with another glass of wine, and followed by an opportunity to walk off some of the wine with a dash up to Hanging Rock itself, with perfect weather to take in the views.

Two further cellar door visits made up the afternoon. Hanging Rock Winery offered an almost overwhelming array of tasting options, but with expert guidance we picked out some great examples. Their sparkling non-vintage brut cuvee was particularly impressive, packing in the buttery, yeasty flavours of a decent champagne. We ended the afternoon at Paramoor, a small, family run vineyard with a cellar door that feels as if it could be a laneway small bar, complete with well placed ‘vintage’ decorations and wood fired pizzas to encourage that extra glass of wine. Here, we had the opportunity to chat with Will Fraser, the winemaker, and to try his exceptional range of wines, including a white pinot gris pinot noir blend that apparently sells like hot cakes locally, which is no surprise.

Loaded up with cellar door purchases, we climbed back into the van to get back to Melbourne. The tour was good value and unhurried, giving plenty of time to enjoy the cellar door experience and a unique opportunity to learn about the area from the winemakers themselves. It might not have the big names of the Yarra Valley, but who needs those when you have the personal touch instead?

We visited the Macedon Ranges with Mike’s Wine Tours. Our public tour cost $115 per person. It runs on weekends and public holidays, and with perfect, friendly service, we’d highly recommend it.