Foodcrawl with FFIchiban and LadyIronChef

Many years ago, I learnt that in any team-based endeavour, the team is only as strong as its weakest member. Up until now, my preferred solution for this law of handicaps has been to systematically remove all weaker members from my team, thus allowing me to exercise my full potential in endeavours such as long-range assassination, coups d’état, and table tennis. This is a viable solution for me because, until now, I have never found an individual as devastatingly capable as myself. The panache and notoriety of my fellow foodbloggers, however, almost has me wondering if I am this city-hunting trio’s weakest link. I put that disturbing thought from my mind and prepare for a sedate food-crawl replete with whimsical musings, tasty discoveries, and glory.

Lady Iron Chef has made a gastronomic pilgrimage to Australia and wishes to prove to the Sydney blogging cohort that he is not, contrary to popular opinion, a woman. FFIchiban and I wish to test his mettle with a no-holds-barred culinary tour of Sydney city. Our aim is to take down at least four or five eateries on foot, with no breaks and blithe disregard for the entrée-main-dessert order of Western dining. We are armed and ready and, at the agreed time and with a fanfare of trumpets and shamisens, converge on our first target.

Target 1: Plan B

Location: 204 Clarence St

After much time rollicking in mirth at the fact that our plan A is in fact Plan B, we reassert the fact that we are engaging in very serious business and commence our food-crawl with a Wagyu Burger. The Lady Iron Chef has heard much about this well-priced mound of juicy wagyu and gooey cheese sandwiched between a pair of crusty-brown hamburger buns. In a rather ladylike gesture, we divide a single burger into thirds to sample the taste: the wagyu lives up to the hype with its thick crumbling texture that dissolves saucily in the mouth, while the slightly salty crunch of the bread gently underpins the wagyu and the well-melted cheese. All three of us lament our ladylike decision but choose – wisely, as it turns out – to restrain our rampant appetites.

Target 2: Bavarian Bier Cafe (York St)

Location: 24 York St

To prove Lady Iron Chef’s manliness, we proceed to the Bavarian Bier Cafe, a stalwart of the Sydney dining scene and home to many a spilt tankard. While I secure the perimeter, the others procure an assortment of the restaurant’s specialities with the Bavarian Tasting Platter. We are, however, forced to wait nearly half an hour for this platter, in which time our tankards of beer are steadily depleted as our ire steadily grows: I eventually threaten to lob an explosive-note into the kitchen and receive the platter within seconds for my troubles. Out of the several items presented to us, the Crackling Pork Belly is by far the highlight, with a luxurious golden sheen and explosively sensuous crunch that makes each of us shudder in badly-concealed pleasure. The Chicken Schnitzel is surprisingly moist and flavoursome, while the sauerkraut and potato-mash are smoothly refined and mix well with the various sausages in the platter.

Target 3: Passionflower

Location: 580 George St

With our guest reeling after being hit by an unlicensed deep-fried sushi, we extract to a more pedestrian location to cool off in the turgid summer’s heat. Passionflower‘s range of esoteric and quirky ice-creams is an excellent salve to our wearying legs, with FFIchiban selecting the Burnt Caramel and Vanilla Hazelnut for our tasting. The Burnt Caramel is a surprise winner, bringing a sensation of crisp crackling to the tongue without the physical crackle itself: the caramel flavour is not too sweet and mingles well (if a touch overpoweringly) with the plain but still creamily delicious Vanilla Hazelnut, which contains quite generous lashings of nut-pieces for the joy of the non-allergic. We return to our sweaty stroll with more than a little sadness, grasping at the last remnants of the ice-cream’s coolness before we depart.

Target 4: Harry’s Cafe de Wheels

Location: Hay St, Haymarket

With the mercury rising and our hungers cooling, we stumble into one of the more famous tourist-restaurants of Sydney, in search of the quintessential pie-and-sauce for which Harry’s Cafe de Wheels has gained worldwide renown. Lady Iron Chef is not especially enamoured with the Tiger Pie, a beef pie topped with an abominably-green depression of mashed peas and potato filled with gravy, and I am tempted to challenge him to a duel but am struck once more with the altogether uncommon feeling that I may indeed come off second-best.

We all agree on the merits of a sausage between two buns, mercilessly finishing off the Hot Dog and its lashings of piquant chilli sauce and mayonnaise. It never fails to surprise me that one can extol the physiological benefits of drinking green tea and a second later scoff one of these highly-processed meats. While we ninjas hold our bodies to be temples, we are (given the frequency and high pay rates of less-than-pious jobs) partial to looting and sacking the temples from time to time. The hot dog is deliciously juicy and fatty and could well be used as a weapon against vegetarians.

Target 5: Le Patissier

Location: ?

While en route to Max Brenner, we are waylaid by a quiet café in the backstreets of the CBD. The three of us file into Le Patissier, picking out a dessert each and painfully unfolding our limbs into the comfortably air-conditioned confines of the shop. The Lemon Ganache is rather refreshing with its florid bursts of citrus, although the chocolate itself is somewhat dry and cloying. My Mixed Berry Tart has a simple elegance to it; the tart’s shortcrust crumbles happily with each bite, while each berry spits and pops between the teeth. Of the three, the Crème Brûlée is the biggest disappointment, inducing gasps of shock when Lady Iron Chef’s fork pierces the crust without so much as a crackle. The entire foil-bowl wobbles as though crying in dismay, but we discover that the cream underneath is in fact rather tasty and not too sweet.

As the clouds swirl ominously overhead and sweatlines of condensation drip down showroom windows, we bid each other farewell. We have reached our goals and enjoyed a pleasant day of good company and good food, and we are satisfied. I am glad to have comported myself decently in the company of these two fine foodbloggers, with little bloodshed and less drunken antics. At the crossroads of George and King we part, each of us striding away into our own personal sunset. I then realise that my sunset seems to be heading away and not towards Shinobi Valley, and I hurriedly about-face and chase after FFIchiban’s rapidly-disappearing basketball shoes.

Tagged as: bavarian, bavarian beer cafe, bavarian bier, bavarian bier cafe, bavarian bier cafe crackling pork, bavarian bier cafe york st, bavarian bier york st, bavarian sausages, becasse wagyu burger, beer, berry tart, bier, burger, burnt caramel, cafe de wheels, cheap wagyu, cheap wagyu burger, chicken, chicken schitznel, chicken schnitzel, clarence st good restaurants, clarence st wagyu, crackling pork belly, creme brulee, ffichiban, food crawl, foodcrawl, for glory, good bad and ugly, good times, harrys, harrys cafe, harrys cafe de wheels, harrys pies, hot dog, hot dog de wheels, ice-cream, icecream, ladyironchef, le patissier, lemon ganache, mashed potato, max brenner, mixed berry, NAFF (new-age fast food), passionflower, passionflower town hall, plan b, plan b becasse, plan b cafe, plan b wagyu, plan b wagyu burger, pork belly, potato, review, sauerkraut, tiger pie, vanilla hazelnut, wagyu, wagyu burger plan b, wagyu burger plan b cheap