Ester – the sweet smell of success

Because the high country is adjacent to the low country, it takes only three hours to drive from the nation’s capital to the nation’s financial capital. This means that my ‘tableland’ blog often ventures to the 'floorland' of Sydney to take in the views, the culture and the cuisine of our largest city.

In the early to mid 1990s, when I worked for community radio 2SER-FM, set in the heart of Chippendale atop the 26 floor University of Technology tower, its surrounds were distinctly lacking in facilities. It’s main claim to fame was, briefly, The Hell Fire Club – and the Funeral Station. It was a suburb you travelled through to get somewhere else.

On a recent visit to Sydney I found all that is changing in a big way, with plenty there yet to explore, such as White Rabbit Gallery and the whole redeveloped Central Park area. A sure sign of these times is eatery Ester, a restaurant that reflects the focus of its name on the science of food with some intrepid experiments in the culinary arts (Esters: a class of organic compounds, often fragrant, which contribute smell, and hence flavour, to food). In a terrific space it sits you down and begins to work its magic.

Ester's menu hits lots of high notes

Settling in for a hot spell
Sydney was settling in for one of its hot spells – though nothing compared to Adelaide, enough to be unpleasant. We decided to face it head on and started with something sparkling to quench our thirst and set the tone for the evening. A bottle of La Bulle du Facteur Chenin Blanc 2015 from the Loire in France did the trick, though I interspersed that with a bottle of Mountain Goat Organic Steam Ale from Richmond in Victoria for variety.

I must go down to the sea again – Sailor’s Thai Canteen still cooking

Here we are – driven down from Canberra to say a final farewell in Sydney to someone from Adelaide. Someone who was good at steering yachts – and guiding people. When it was all over I had to go down to the sea again. We were staying at Cremorne Point, one of those fabulous spits that stick out like a finger into Sydney Harbour, so we jumped on the ferry.

We went to a favourite spot, Sailors Thai Canteen, established by renowned chef David Thompson who has now long relocated to Bangkok, where it all originates. When he was writing his first famous cookbook he drew on the ‘memory books’ handed out at Thai cremations. These contained all the things important to the deceased, and since food is often important to Thais, frequently included a recipe or so ­– and often many. Highly appropriate, given the circumstances of our visit.

I must go down to the sea again

There were just the two of us so we kept it simple. We could hardly hear seated across from each other at the long metal bench that serves as a single table for everyone in the central corridor-like room.