you know how excited some people get when their chosen troupe of athletic professionals achieves some form of triumphant gain? well, needless to say i’m not one of those people. i’m the type of person that gets unreasonably excited about attending a highly-regarded restaurant. luckily for me, a moment just like this arose a few weeks ago when lovely mr. joe king (so named for privacy and humour purposes) took me to quay for our fifth anniversary. my excitement was so embarrassingly palpable in the fortnight leading up to our dinner that if there had been a quay advent calendar, i’d not only have bought it but would be counting down miniature snow eggs like a crazy person.
for those of you playing at home, quay is australia’s most awarded restaurant. it is one of only two australian restaurants on the prestigious san pellegrino world’s top 50 list, currently standing at number 26. under head chef peter gilmore’s leadership, the restaurant has been awarded three-hat status a remarkable ten years in a row. having received a signed copy of peter’s beautiful book*, quay: food inspired by nature, for christmas and being a general fan of his for a long time, you can understand my aforementioned level of excitement. *note, i did not refer to gilmore’s book as a “cookbook” for good reason: it is too pretty and the recipes are ludicrously detailed. also, my local woolies does not stock homogenised jersey milk or society garlic flowers.
anyway, let’s get to the meal before i over-hype things to oblivion. we are seated at a great table which frames a stunning view of the opera house. after a celebratory glass of tasmanian sparkling wine, we are presented with an amuse bouche of smoked eel jelly, carrot cream and crisp crumbs. it is a delectable bite. next, we deliberate over what to order. the two options are the eight-course tasting menu and a four-course a la carte menu. while we were there to taste everything the restaurant had to offer, our only hesitation was that the tasting menu does not currently feature the restaurant’s famous dessert duo: the snow egg & eight-texture chocolate cake. we discuss this first world problem with our lovely waiter, who suggests that they can include a snow egg for us, so that we are able to have the full experience we are looking for. win.
the first course of the tasting menu soon arrives. it is sashimi of blue mackerel, smoked eel flowers, sea scallops, pickled apple, nasturtiums, and tasmanian wasabi. though difficult to see thanks to my consistently terrible photography skills, the white spheres you see are the smoked eel flowers and are simply a feat of culinary engineering. the entire dish is delicate with a hint of sweetness from the apple.
next up is a “salad”, though i hardly feel the word accurately describes the masterpiece of rhubarb, endive, beetroot, purple carrot, rosa radish, kohlrabi, goat’s curd, pomegranate molasses and violet that lies before us. underneath the purple garden you see here is the goat’s curd and the flavour combination is simply remarkable. best. salad. ever. at this point, i, being my usual obnoxious self, ask charming maître d’ ashley if peter gilmore is there. he says unfortunately not, but asks if i would like to visit the kitchen. with the humiliating enthusiasm of a price is right contestant, i gleefully accept his offer and follow ashley, leaving poor old joe king to question his decision to bring me to quay. it is much larger than i expected, as i’ve found most fine-dining restaurants have shockingly small kitchens. there are approximately 25 chefs working furiously on an array of stunning dishes. as i press myself against a wall to avoid getting in anyone’s way, ashley explains that the kitchen is divided in to five sections: first course, second course, third course, fourth course and pastry. there is a flurry of activity in each section, yet everyone moves with incredible purpose and the entire area is astonishingly clean and tidy. peter, if you happen to be reading this, those chefs work incredibly well in your absence. i hope no-one gets in trouble for letting an overenthusiastic diner in the kitchen!
fresh from my excursion to the kitchen, i return to the table to find an intriguing ceramic dome. it houses a gently poached southern rock lobster, golden tapioca, shaved squid, lobster velvet, and pea flowers. you’ll hardly be surprised to find that i think it is delicious and mr. king and i remark at the extreme care that has been taken with the lobster. a beautiful dish.
next we have a slow cooked partridge breast with pumpernickel, walnuts, quinoa, truffle, chestnuts and milk skin. it is an unusual combination, and joe king is not entirely sold. between the walnuts, quinoa and chestnuts it can only be described as tasting “nutty”. i rather enjoy it, but can see how others may not. never mind, there are still four dishes to go.
the next delicate morsel is confit of milk fed suffolk lamb, purple garlic, jerusalem artichokes, sheep’s milk curd, salt bush shoots, fennel pollen, and pantelleria capers. i had read about peter’s passion for using rarer breeds of meat and vegetables, both as a way of bringing exciting new flavours to the restaurant and supporting the producers of such rare foods. the suffolk lamb is a prime example of this, and the taste is simply beautiful. it is incredibly tender and each accompaniment, though small, enhances the flavour perfectly. at this stage of the meal, the lovely sommelier presents us with two more glasses of sparkling wine. after seeing my confused facial expression, she tells us, rather disconcertingly, that they are from “the man you talked to in the bathroom,” gesturing at joe king. though pleased and very grateful for this turn of events, i had to wonder why joe was chatting to this gentleman, and just how charming he was in order to secure us two very expensive glasses of wine…
… no time to worry about that now as our final savoury course arrives. it is a slow braised berkshire pig jowl with maltose crackling, prunes, cauliflower cream, perfumed with prune kernel oil. this is the stand-out dish so far, and the maltose crackling is a work of pure genius. it creates a comforting, yet displacing feeling as it evokes both the best pork crackling you’ve ever had, and the hard crack and sweetness of a creme brulee. seriously amazing stuff. ashley returns and i discuss the quay book with him. expecting to hear some empathetic agreements about the difficulty of the recipes, and how long and impossible they would be to replicate, i am startled to hear him say that a couple recently visited the restaurant whose twin 13 year old boys successfully made the snow egg. “oh… wow,” i reply. 13 year olds= 1, grain of salt= 0.
we have a small moment to compose ourselves, during which time we realise we are considerably more full than we expected to be at this stage. not that we care in the slightest, as the jackfruit snow egg makes it’s appearance. though i am certain there must be some chefs in the kitchen who are sick to death of making this dish since it became as recognisable as matt preston’s cravat or george calombaris’ odd utensil handling skills on masterchef. all i can say is, i hope they never take it off the menu. it is even better than i dreamed it thought it would be, and i am stunned by how light and dare i say, refreshing, it is. the granita is a perfect counterpoint to the crunchy meringue with its soft sweet filling. savouring every last morsel, i notice that joe king appears to be in heaven.
at last, our final dessert course (or so we thought): ewe’s milk ice-cream, caramel, roasted walnuts, prune, pedro ximénez, chocolate bark, pulled toffee, and vanilla milk skin. as you can see, this is a striking dish. though the pulled toffee looks very thick in the picture, it is paper thin and has the most beautiful flavour. surely this has to be the greatest ice-cream topping in history.
yes, as i alluded to just now, the ice-cream was not to be our final dessert. the amazing ashley presents us with a complimentary eight-texture chocolate cake, as a special treat for our anniversary. both joe king and i are blown away by this generous act, and sit mesmerised as we watch the warm chocolate sauce being poured into the centre of this famous dessert. i am especially grateful as i have now been able to try both of quay’s signature desserts in addition to the over-the-top tasting menu. though we are ridiculously full, the cake is pure, sumptuous chocolate heaven. i can’t think of a better way to end a perfect meal.
of course, there are still some very cute little petit fours to be eaten. sensing that we may be on the verge of a food coma/full digestive system shutdown, ashley suggests boxing them up and taking them home. several hours later, they are gleefully consumed and i can’t help but think it might be the most luxurious doggy-bag in history.
let’s be honest, quay is a world-class restaurant. with that, unfortunately, comes a huge bill and needless to say it will be awhile before i am able to return. that being said, it is totally worth it. between the troupe of hard-working chefs in the kitchen, the original and mind-blowing recipes of one of the best chefs in the world, possibly the best view of the harbour and personal, professional service rarely seen in sydney these days, you certainly get your money’s worth. even if you went there just to try the snow egg, i guarantee you would not be disappointed. especially if you’re a strapping young gentleman who manages to score free drinks off a man in the bathroom.
exterior restaurant image via jason loucas/australian gourmet traveller
