Miss Waratah, you have my heart…

It’s Good Friday, I’m weary about the public holiday surcharge and I make my stern return to Darlinghurst. I see her at the traffic light, 2 levels, a veranda curling round the corner of Liverpool Street like a cat’s tail. Lit from within, The Waratah glistens like a disco ball and the bar is bathed in a shower of bronzed hue.

Up the stairs we go and the down-lighting is strong. The main dining room is smouldering and moody,  with grey plush couches, sage walls, and an intimate dining arrangement – our table is set neatly and I dive into the very extensive, very impressive cocktail list. Instead of a singular sheet, this drinks menu was encased in burgundy velvet and each cocktail had a two-page spread devoted to describing its sourcing and a visual to match. The dedication to design in The Waratah is consistent throughout, and the dishes are, dare I say, even better. Here’s our order, shared between two:

Peach and Macadamia Cocktail 

• Vodka, roasted macadamia, buttered peach, white chocolate, wattleseed. 
• This drink came in the most elegant glass; thin stemmed with the cup rising in a tulip shape. Desirable as ever, the drink arrives with the smoke of dry ice, while the server pours the actual contents tableside. Droplets of oil carefully top its surface.
• The light amber colour of the drink translated in a warm, sweet and smooth taste with the undernote – not aftertaste – of peach.
• Toasted macadamia notes settle on the palate after the initial sip, it’s fantastic when you notice it; the combination between the two is so clever and tastes what I think romance feels like.

Strawberry and Vanilla Cocktail

• Whiskey, strawberries, Daintree vanilla, apricot and cream soda.
• My second round – how could I not? Prepare to be spoilt for choice at The Waratah, order two drinks. You’ll want to.
• This is where my childish delight begins, as soon as you sip – the creaming soda foams up on the tongue. You’ll think about the Kirks creaming soda sold at the canteen.  It tastes as if a strawberry meringue had been distilled down to a liquor.

Australian bay lobster roll, iceberg, mayo, Ziggy’s hot sauce

• Pub, or a “fish and chippie’ classic – you’ve got your mayo, your lettuce, pickles – all of your regular fixings-  but with the luxury of tender lobster meat and soft rolls of brioche. 
• Hot sauce came as a friendly kick that dashed away the cool, creaminess of the mayo and lobster – it’s such an essential touch in making the dish as moreish as it is.

 Potato scallops, raw scallop, tartare sauce

• I loved this combination, it’s entirely representative of what Australian cheekiness could be in food – only we could think of something so darlingly absurd. Of course we combine our favourite two things into one. 
• House made tartare – it has to be. Lemony and with a liberal fistful of dill, this sauce was addictive and had the freshness you need for deep-fried finger foods.
• There’s a ridiculously crisp coating with the potato, battered thick and crunchy with the inside having the perfect amount of body. Smother it in sauce and enjoy the silky bite of the sliced scallops on top. 

Raw albacore tuna, finger lime, radish, marjoram

• Vinegary and lovely. However, the acidity of the dressing slightly cooked the edges of raw tuna. Could honestly do without.
• I’ll give it this – the dish is gorgeous to look at. Appearing as if like a feathered boa during Mardi gras or a Venetian theatre dress, it was layered in its presentation, with pretty tiles of magenta, indigo and pale pinks.

Easter special – Bay lobster, dashi & finger lime butter.

• What a treat to catch this limited dish!
• With a cluster of little plump pearls of salmon roe, you’ll want to sweep them up by the spoonful. They burst and add even more flavour to the already wonderful finger lime butter sauce, emulsified into a rich cream, spooned lovingly over and poured beneath the lobster. 
• Sweeter than your typical lobster and belly up in invitation, it’s a dish that arrives at the door politely but leaves loud with cheer. You’ll find yourself hollowing out tiny forkings of meat. 

Fries, bush salt

• Get them. They’re the best and obvious choice for the side to your main protein. Death to salad. (soz). 
• Perfect, simple little things –  thin, hot, blonde. 
• Bonus: they soak up the creamy sauce left over from the bay lobster. Dip ‘em.

Fairy bread ice cream sandwich, sour honey

• A daring finale, reconceptualising every Aussie childhood, and making it even better – you have ice cream this time. ( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و!!!
• A singular, refreshing bite contains the memory of every primary school birthday party; the crunching confetti affair, the familiar buttered bread (no crusts – thank god). 
• It’s obviously gone in a few bites. The corner of my lips, the tips of my fingers are stained in blue, pink and yellow. Napkins are heaps useful right now. 

At The Waratah, Australian classics are creatively redirected; it is so fun to eat something so familiar to you made so special. There is a great deal of care in all realms of this venue –  its service is attentive and casual, its design conceptions are witty and timeless and its menu is relentless in its curation and taste. We joked that we basically ate the most boujee version of fish and chips you could ever have. Nostalgic, surprising and stunningly vivacious, bring your mates,  bring a date –  hop on a bus to this gorgeous lightbox of a restaurant in Darlinghurst.