Bentley restaurant, Sydney review

The Bentley occupies a glamorous new corner site in the Sydney CBD

OK, the latter doesn’t quite trip off the tongue, yet in the Australian context it’s difficult to think of a more cohesive, complementary restaurant partnership - from the diner’s perspective - than this pair.

Rarely does anyone put food and wine together as well as this chef/sommelier team. So much so that I don’t think of a Bentley experience as going out for dinner with wine; rather, going out to drink with food.

Which is taking nothing away from Brent Savage, whose success at the original Surry Hills Bentley spawned Monopole and Yellow in Potts Point.

He clearly has an inventive, natural style that gels with Sydney, and he now has a sexy CBD stage. His food in this glamorous new corner site has converged with that of his bistro/wine bars, leaving the days of techno, post-molecular “wow” behind.

Nick Hildebrandt has that rare ability to share his enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge. Chablis to begin; weird, unfiltered SA marsanne/ roussanne; a German pinot, of all things; Corsican rose; a Victorian shiraz made specifically for the Bentley group. In tune with the kitchen’s flavours and textures, Hildebrandt is way too mature to sell the obscure for obscurity’s sake.

An old space (high ceilings, arched windows) is given the glam treatment by four-time Bentley designer Pascale Gomes-McNabb. Scaffold-like crazy black tubing “lowers” the ceiling; it creates harsh edges and tension in a classic room to great effect, softened by bare timber tables, smoky Mark Douglass coloured glass pendants, plush carpet and organically shaped hand-made crockery. Bar at street level, dining at mezzanine; there’s an undeniably metropolitan feel to it all.

Savage’s food - simpler than before, focused, produce to the fore - is the kind you could eat weekly: light, clever, earthy. His raw/cured dishes are outstanding. Strips of kingfish in a coriander seed vinaigrette, discs of pickled baby cucumber, specks of Avruga and finely grated cured egg yolk. Raw scampi on an avocado mousse with shaved lettuce, dried wakame and a fine crumb for crunch. Raw scallop, foie gras mousse and a dehydrated raspberry powder is about as wacky as it gets but makes perfect sense.

Beef tartare, raw but for the thinnest veneer of charcoal searing on strips and chunks, served with black tahini eggplant, sweet and savoury fried shallot, radish and a clever, mouth-feel-enriching acidic dressing of Wagyu fat/lemon emulsion.

Pea soup with spanner crab and a buttermilk granita; finely scored calamari in a superb “toasty” squid ink “soup” with carrot discs and sea blight. Bug meat in an overly reduced bisque “broth” with ho-hum dory meat picks up a few points for its sidekick, squid ink brioche with a velvety clam rouille. Charcoal grilled sirloin beef with nettle sauce is imaginative but the meat firm. Very firm.

Desserts see the kitchen out to play. A chocolate Aero bar gets fig leaf ice cream, concentrated lemon aspen berries and marvellous dehydrated meringues. Verdant sorrel sorbet, with frozen goat’s cheese mousse, carrot sauce and powder is the quintessential savoury sweet. Both excel.

Attention to detail is everywhere. While there are modest moments with the food, there are far more highs. They usually go together. Like tomato and basil. Or a great cook and a very fine wine host.

Source:  The Australian - 22 February 2014