‘Greeted like old friends’: Is this Sydney’s most comforting hatted restaurant?

When chefs Mike Mu Sung and Tristan Rosier opened their produce-driven restaurant back in 2013, it comprised a single room, a single table and a single vision: food without fuss.

At the time, the Herald described the experience as a “Gen Y Sunday roast”. Since that review was published, Generation Y grew up and added a couple of letters of their own to the population alphabet. Oh, and let’s not forget inflation. What started as a $55 set menu is now $100. And that still feels like good value.

A few other things have changed in the past 13 years. Rosier moved on to open the recently revamped Arthur in Surry Hills. There are now tables out the front for al fresco dining (outdoor heaters in the cooler months keep things toasty.) And Mu Sung opened Ken’s Continental – a casual diner-delicatessen-sandwich shop – next door to the restaurant, plus Bones Ramen, which relocated to Darlinghurst last September.

The surrounding neighbourhood might be a little less bohemian, biker and brothel and a little more gym bro and specialty-brew bar these days, but one thing remains constant. That’s a four-course menu deep-set in comfort, changing each month depending on what’s coming in from producers.

It’s all served in a relaxed, easy way, where an afternoon melts by in a blur of snacks. We kick off with a crisp potato cake, fried to a deep bronze, topped with a little blob of sour cream and sweet, sticky caramelised onions. A perfect toast round is topped with a fresh briny mussel and micro herbs. Then thick slices of sourdough and salty butter, refreshed by sweet and peppery beetroot and pickled white radish. Add a glass of white burgundy for full conviviality points.

Because of the way the menu’s arranged (no choice, all joy), service can mostly focus on keeping wine glasses filled and bringing good vibes and friendly conversation to the table. The restaurant’s completely flocked by locals, too. The tables surrounding us are all greeted like old friends.

Next, a slip of Murray cod, the protein just-set so the fish is almost gelatinous, napped in a perfect, creamy beurre blanc dotted with trout roe and chives, accompanied by the chlorophyll bite of blanched cime di rapa. It’s one of the only really cheffy touches on an otherwise rustic menu, and some of the best fish cooking I’ve experienced in some time. Little wonder, given Mu Sung’s early career working at Est. with seafood master Peter Doyle. He may no longer be on the pans (that job’s taken by Michael Halim and Ivan Hwang), but you can still see his influence on the plate.

A roast Cowra pork chop for two comes dressed in pan juices and a side of seeded mustard, the bone very slightly charred, the meat sweet, tender and juicy with just a hint of pinkness. It’s accompanied by a bitter green salad of radicchio and cheesy smashed and roasted potatoes, which shatter on impact.

It really does feel like a menu offered from a place of care rather than revenue generation. Check out the old-fashioned duo of desserts – a silken lemon posset (think of it as a citrus cream) covered in squiggles of toasted Italian meringue and almond crumb, and a plump little individual apple tea cake perched on a puffball of chantilly cream.

In other news, this has to be the skinniest dining room in Sydney. It’s basically a hallway with a table and chairs. On the left-hand side, it’s more of a functional service area – wine storage, bench and cupboard space. On the right hand, a long table for 20 with a jumble of mismatched wooden seats. Above, thick wooden beams and at the end of the room, the tiny kitchen run and a single guest loo. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the architect behind it all was also a shipwright. Want room to spread out? Sit outside.

Yes, the format consistently plays from the same sheet music. But it’s sheet music I can listen to time and again. When there’s so much pressure put on restaurants to keep innovating and expanding, it’s a pretty lovely thing to visit a place that exists purely as a place to meet, eat and drink. If it’s been a few beats between meals here, it might be time to put it back on your radar.

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.