A LITTLE GEM IN GLEBE

While the inner west of Sydney is filled with many and great spots for foodies (and the people we drag along all in the name of brunch), it can be challenging at times deciding where to eat especially if you want a break from the bustling favourited hotspots of Newtown and the first 500m (take and give) of Glebe point road.

Further up the road, I mean really further up (if you’re car is ticking on e, you probably won’t make it) but is worth every bit of confusion, gleams, glebe point diner that immediately lures you in with its European-like decadence.

Despite mine (like Jada, I was entangled in the never-ending tentacles of the recently opened M4 tunnel) and the birthday boy’s late arrival, they were super understanding of our changing booking time, polite and welcomed us without any awkward recognition of the shame that we felt for living up to one of the stereotypes of our race.

Upon entering this quaint (yes darling) of a really well-established establishment of establishments, all irritations of the $15 I’d just spent on tolls as a privilege of being an honorary (a runaway kiwi) Sydney-sider, immediately left my body.

For starters, we ordered the sourdough with holiblanca (yep, I had to google so you do too) olive oil and the Sydney rock oysters with golden shallot dressing. These were INCREDIBLE. The oysters oyestered and were so fresh that, if they got any fresher, I probably would’ve heard Ariel splash by and been forced to be her accomplice to look for more “treasure”. After a couple of rounds (of trying not to slurp them down), given that we weren’t those “kinds” of friends, my brotherly birthday boy and I agreed to proceed with our mains.

I forgot about Ariel and devoured a fish that rhymes with flounder served in chicken broth, asparagus, spring onion, coriander and chilli soupy mix. Simply put, another amazing plate! My friend got given special treatment to appease his advancement in age and ordered something that was yet to be itemised on the menu. Whoopty doo because it was splendid, yes darling! However, my poor recollection of names means that, I can’t remember the name of the dish, all I know is it was, really delicious fettuccini.

Another le peace de la resistance came in the form of a perfectly done and dressed (native dish of New Zealand) pav and 3 generous portions of Madeline accompanied by her sweet and lightly zesty friend, pepito (not its actual name but another pending menu item means I don’t recall the name given by the gracious hostess).