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Time Out
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Eleven Barrack
✍️ Time Out Sydney never writes starred restaurant and bar reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills, and anonymously reviews, so that readers can trust our critique. Find out more, here. Being at Eleven Barrack feels like Christmas. Every dish or drink that lands on our table is like a gift – a perfectly presented package that, when unwrapped, contains a delightful treasure that's a little unexpected. A good surprise. Take the spanner crab and fish pie. It's a picture-perfect golden-crusted pot pie in a little cast-iron pot, with a pastry crab on top and a shellfish bisque served on the side in a classic silver gravy boat. The pie pastry is almost too flawless to crack open, but when we do, we're rewarded with a well-seasoned, creamy filling with finely chopped pieces of spanner crab, fish and spinach. It's divine just as it is, but then you pour in the bisque, and the dish goes from delicious to unforgettable. The buttery pastry, tender seafood, creamy white sauce and that punchy, sea-flavoured sauce (the colour of crab shell) is like a pot of comfort food with a luxury upgrade. It's arguable Sydney didn't need another steak and seafood grill, but it did need this one. Just like Santa Claus, the Bentley Group's co-owners Brent Savage (chef) and Nick Hildebrandt (sommelier) – who've also recently gifted us treats like King Clarence, Brasserie 1930 and a newly flavoured Monopole – have delivered yet again (in collaboration with group head chef Aiden Stevens and Niro Richards). I'm obviously a fan of the food here (this is not my first visit), but the décor is what really sets this place apart from other grand New York or Parisian-style diners here in Sydney. It's on Barrack Street, in the old, high-ceilinged Savings Bank of NSW building. And while they have indeed leaned into the grandness and scale of the classic old building, there's nothing traditional or fuddy-duddy about the room's attention-grabbing design touches. One of the room's central columns is wrapped in metallic purple. There are big, eccentric, custom-made light shades (some bright orange, some white) that dangle dramatically from the ceiling. There's a gold-mirrored, oval-shaped, er, I'm not sure what to call it – decoration – hanging from the ceiling above my table. And the carpet is tartan, like the Christmas wrap my grandpa used to use. Yes, the room is also festive. I order a gin Martini, and it arrives via a trolley, poured frosty and theatrically at our table. (The service is as classy as it is in all of the Bentley Group venues.) The menu is extensive, so while it heroes steak and fish dishes, there is also a section for pastas, and a fun selection of appetisers, starters, playful salads, a bread section, cheeses and desserts. Narrowing down what to order is no easy feat. As well as the crab and fish pie, we order a steak, the 250g black opal wagyu rump cap, which comes served sliced – cooked perfectly medium rare, as ordered, charred on the outside – on a bed of rich, dark jus. It pairs well with the celebratory bottle of bubbles we share – the Louis de Grenelle BIO (certified organic) Crémant de Loire Brut, which is zippy and refreshing, with a dry, clean finish but enough richness to stand up to the creamy seafood pie. (And what are we celebrating? Just being in a beautiful setting and eating great food!) The salads we order also provide freshness and acidity. The salted zucchini with parmesan, caperberries, parsley and mint is bright, briny and herbaceous; and the celeriac with sheep's milk feta, black barley and witlof is earthy and nutty. The potatoes need their own paragraph. A baked potato has been cut in two, then the soft potato filling has been removed from the shells, mashed together with sour cream, mustard and pancetta, then placed back into the crispy, fried potato skins. A masterpiece. Last time I was here I had the coal-roasted Murray cod fillets served in the most vivid, moreish green garlic sauce, and I wish we had room to order it again. But with the pie and the steak, salads and potatoes, we didn't even need appetisers or starters this time around. If we did, I would have gone for the fried ricotta dumplings with whipped cod's roe or the eggplant 'parfait' on sourdough toast. The slice of key lime pie is a must-order for dessert (even if you think you don't have room). The lime curd filling is bright and citrusy; it's glazed with ginger, then topped with a generous piping of light coconut curd and little pops of finger lime jewels. It's truly (sub)lime. Just like Christmas, when the experience of dining at Eleven Barrack comes to an end, I'm already counting down the days until I can unwrap it all over again. Thankfully I don't have to wait a whole year.
Time Out
30-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
Photograph: Supplied/Yellow
✍️ Time Out Sydney never writes starred restaurant and bar reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills, and anonymously reviews, so that readers can trust our critique. Find out more, here. Update: Potts Point 's butter-yellow plant-based restaurant – and one of Sydney's best – is under new ownership. The fine diner, which the Bentley Boys (Eleven Barrack, King Clarence, Monopole) opened in 2014, is now being run by long-time head chef Sander Nooij and his business partner Mark Hanover. But fans of the Macleay Street restaurant can rest assured that the creative, elevated, seasonal and truly beautiful dishes will remain, with the team committed to 'botanical gastronomy'. Nooij said: 'Botanical gastronomy is a culinary approach that celebrates the vibrant world of plants, herbs, and flowers. Free from animal products yet rich in flavour, we emphasise seasonality, sustainability and the extraordinary. Our goal is to create a dining experience that is not just for vegans, but for anyone who values creativity, refinement, and the beauty of nature on their plates. Free from the controversy and politics that can be part of the vegan narrative, botanical gastronomy merges elements of contemporary cuisine with a strong emphasis on botanical ingredients, showcasing their flavours, textures, and nutritional advantages,' he added. Yellow is renowned for its six-course seasonal menu celebrating heirloom vegetables from local suppliers. While what you have on the night will vary, you might enjoy things like a crisp polenta chip with a caper sauce and avocado salsa; smoked tomatoes paired with silky cashew cream and plums; an eggplant parcel with hemp ricotta and chilli crisp; and a riff on banoffee pie made with bananas from Boon Luck Farm. Whether you follow a plant-based diet or not, this feel-good restaurant is for everyone who appreciates a cracking, thoughtful meal – one that just happens to be vegan. Hell: bring your meat-lovin' mates and don't tell them. – Avril Treasure ***** It takes a kind of vision bordering on the mad to see a burnt onion as a dessert, but that is the creative genius we're dealing with from the team at Yellow. Not just a staunchly savoury veg, but a burned one at that, is ground down into a charcoal-black powder to contrast brutishly with the pretty-in-pink Frenchness of a tartine made from more leaves of sticky apple than your average Penguin Classic. This is so much more than meat-free cooking, it's abstract expressionism with fruit and veg. Brent Savage and Nick Hildebrandt's restaurant empire (Bentley, Monopole, Cirrus) had always catered to vegetarians without making a fuss, but when they devoted their Potts Point dining room to the best of the plant world, people really started to take notice. And importantly, they kept coming back for more. More of the stracciatella, a fresh cheese that's so creamy and relaxed it's basically a liquid, sprinkled with a magic banana powder made from extreme slow cooked bananas (two and a half months at 60 degrees in the skins). Add the bright tang of cumquat and it's almost a sweet, except for the fierce pull towards savoury by the gently charred, sprouting broccoli and cauliflower. The vegetables win this one, but only just. Baby corn in a can is a monstrosity; baby corn served in its charred husk, under a blanket of funky miso milk crumbs, is bringing smoky maturity to next-gen veg. A round of applause goes to the tight harmonies in a dish of nori sheets camouflaging a core of soft leek wearing the reflected richness of shaved duck yolk and parmesan's gravitas. Horseradish brings the treble, shimeji mushrooms the earthy bass, and a sweet-tart ponzu dressing makes a surprising guest appearance. We are not being facetious when we say that the baked celeriac, with all the earthy grunt and spiced char of a prime cut, trumps meat. And fried chicken is matched and in many ways bested by the juiciness, savouriness and feather-light crunch of Jerusalem artichokes in a tapioca batter, served on a rich and powerful, condensed Swiss brown and button mushroom purée. We expect vegetables to be part of a great tasting menu in Sydney, but it's rare to see them demand the spotlight like a diva hitting the high notes and refuse to relinquish their starring role. This is what makes Yellow such an extraordinary restaurant. They've seismically shifted how we frame fine dining in Sydney, and we love them for it. – Reviewed in 2018.
