Restaurant Atelier
Olibe Balzac’s first excursion was to Restaurant Atelier in Glebe - French/European cuisine, SMH Chef’s Hat recipient 2007, rated well at Eatability. They have a mid-week 3-course deal for $60 - not bad for a place that’s a bit fancy-schmancy.
It’s a cute little white house on Glebe Pt Rd, with dark red interiors and shiny dark wooden floors. But who cares, right? It’s about the food. And possibly the service. And whether the staff are fazed if you tell them there’s a cockroach crawling up their wall…
Fortunately, Atelier had good food and service… to a point.
We let them know ahead of time - as they request you do - that there was a vegetarian in the party. Still, when we mention our 3-normal-and-1-vegetarian booking, there is no recognition of this from the staff. I am brusquely informed that they have this entree (tomato tart with goat cheese), and this main (pasta with cream-and-truffle something or other)… and that’s it.
“I’ll take that then!” I reply.
I figure it’s me making the imposition. As I’ve mentioned before, French cuisine doesn’t lend itself to veggie friendly options and I knew what I was getting myself into by coming here. Besides, so long as this one option is good, who cares?
At the outset, we’re given palate-exciters (whatever they’re called in French) - in this instance, a mighty tasty garlic soup. And, yes, the flavour is exciting - hopefully a sign of things to come.
The tomato tart is pretty damn good too, I must say.
Tomato Tart
Tomatoes are among my favourite things in the world and they were used inventively in this entree - a caramelised piece is layered with one that is only lightly braised, and they’re topped with the soft cheese. The trio of flavours and textures is a really yummy combination. So far, so good.
The pasta arrives in a tight sort of curl, which reminded me of how Bernard in Black Books insists that all fancy food must be presented in a cylindrical arrangement (even soup). It had several different kinds of cream, including a rather frothy-looking kind (mmm, soap suds…?!). One of these creams had truffles in it, not that I could tell - partly because I’d never tasted trufflfes before and, hence, couldn’t identify them (so much for that distinct, $100/kg flavour), and partly because of the seventeen different kinds of cream in the dish.
The pasta itself remind me of - and don’t shoot me for saying this - something closely resembling two-minute noodles. And then there were the endives which are bitter as a Paul McCartney’s divorce. Look, it isn’t bad - it’s edible, albeit bland - and I’m hungry so I eat it all (except for the endives which really do have an ear-waxy aftertaste).
But, on the whole, the one-and-only vego main is a little bit of a kick in the teeth for one who dares to choose food that didn’t once have a face.
In stark contrast, omnivores have a menagerie of creatures to choose from a la carte. It includes quail, rabbit, venison, pheasant, squab - all those animals you imagine 18th century British aristocrats would eat by the fireplace after a day’s hunting. I’m guessing this is why all the people on Eatability like the place so much.
Still, at least I have a choice when it comes to dessert.
I choose the creme brulee…
Creme Brulee
The coolest part about it is, you see that stripe of sauce down one side? It’s a sweet olive sauce! If you’re feeling adventurous, it’s well worth a try. I dig it. The creme brulee itself is okay - doesn’t rock my world, but it’s fine. Toffee’s a bit burnt though.
My friends have the day’s dessert special - caramel souffle with whiskey sauce…
Caramel Souffle
…and one other thing from the menu - the Hazelnut, er, thingamajig…
Hazelnut, er, thingamajig
So, yeah… dessert is rather nice.
Overall: Atelier was fine. Was it worth $60 when I can get amazing food for half the price (or less) and have a choice thrown into the bargain? Obviously not. Still, I’m glad I have some empirical evidence to support my cuisines theory. French = not really worth the bother.
Review review: This piece lacks inspiration, but is rich in laziness - an apt approach to the subject matter.
Fair and (three) square(s)
As a vegetarian, there are some cuisines that I consider limited, if not off-limits, to me. I’ve never been particularly worried about this. It’s a kind of agree-to-disagree scenario - if I’m not worth your time, you’re not worth my money. Fair and square.
So to my mind, it’s pretty simple. When it comes to having a choice, this is roughly how I see cuisines…
Thai = brilliant
Chinese = bad
(there’s the occasional exception here, but almost every time I get cornered into going to a Chinese restaurant, I wind up eating green vegetables in soy sauce, boiled rice, and bland, gelatinous silken tofu, which all tastes like pork fat anyway - blerg. In other words, it’s not food you go out for. As for yum cha - don’t even go there!)
German = wouldn’t bother
Italian = great
Greek = good
(though this can vary wildly from menu to menu)
Turkish = good
Indian = good
(if I’m in the mood and the lassi doesn’t poison my friends)
Tony Roma’s Ribs Joint = nightmarish
(and anatomically incorrect)
French cuisine also falls into my “wouldn’t bother” category. I’ve seen enough cooking shows to know that the people who bring you a turkey covered in duck fat, layered in bacon, covered in goose fat (with a sprig of rosemary, of course) and doused in double cream, are probably not going to be renowned for the kind of food I consider edible.
Still, with a few friends and me forming a foodie mini-club, my cuisine comfort zone will be challenged. As well it should be.
We’ve informally dubbed our group ”Olibe Balzac”. “Olibe” because it would be confusing to spell out when we leave phone bookings (hi-larious). And “Balzac” because it’s the name of a nice restaurant in Randwick - and it’s also it’s rude and funny.
Olibe’s purpose is to discover and experience all the good food in our fair city. After all, as far as food goes, Sydney is like Homer Simpson’s “land of chocolate” - a wonderous place filled with good things of all different kinds (Mmmm - chocolate half price!).
Put another way, our Sydney restaurant “shortlist” gets longer by the week.
For my part, I’m throwing caution to the wind with a French restaurant slated as our first excursion. I’m told our booking voicemail went something like this:
“Hi, I’d like to book a table for Wednesday the 16th July at 7:30pm. That’s next Wednesday, not this Wednesday. At 7:30pm. It’s for 4 people. Actually, 3 people and 1 vegetarian. I mean 3 normal people and 1 vegetarian. I mean 4 people, one of which is a vegetarian. Um. Maybe you should call me. Thanks.”
Maybe we shouldn’t go by “Olibe” after all - we’re good enough at being confusing all by ourselves. 