Once a Waitress

Note: this is an edited version of an article that first appeared in Milk Bar Mag.

A smart new eatery has opened in Brunswick, with dessert superstar turned savory queen Phillipa Sibley at the helm, smack in the middle of Sydney road’s thoroughfare (on the corner of Sydney and Albert Streets of course).

Doors open at 8am – simple breakfasts of piadini and pastries to begin, and a full breakfast menu to follow in January when the kitchen has settled in.

For now it’s all day dining off the very modern menu. If you’re snacking at the bar the pizzas will please (perhaps the Albert St special – roasted peppers, pork and fennel sausage with smoked mozzarella). Or if you like it salty try the potted rainbow trout rillettes or the deliciously moist fresh broad bean felafel served with tangy tahini yoghurt.

Catering to those after something more substantial there’s a selection of pastas (try saffron gnocchi with braised veal, broad beans and sage) and modern Mediterranean themed mains with subtle European influences, from coteletta of pork with red cabbage and apple slaw, to a summer cassoulet. There’s charcuterie and cheese aplenty, and of course there’s the calling card of Sibley’s signature deserts (the ‘Snickers’ of Masterchef fame was the special on the day of my visit).

A side-room retail space acts as both bottle shop and providore (with a peep hole window into the kitchen to boot). With a focus on hyper-local labels (stocking Brunswick produce first and foremost, then moving outwards) there’s more stock to come, but the tidy help-yourself space boasts the finest breads, pickles, cheeses, smoked fish, charcuterie and crackers your local dollars can buy. There’s a sustainable focus – refillable oil bottles on a return trade system are available now, soon there will terrines, pizzas, condiments and potted hams available on the ‘zero-packaging’ system of reusable glass containers.

The Sibley factor is high – there’s a copy of her new cookbook on display everywhere you look – but hell, if she was the Executive Chef at my restaurant I’d probably take out a full page ad in the Epicure. Albert St F&W isn’t going to need to ride one her reputation to find success though – the sheer style and quality of the food, service and decor will speak for itself. A delicious journey to be sure.

Albert St Food & Wine
Corner of Albert St & Sydney Rd, Brunswick
8354 6600
Monday to Thursday 8am to 12pm, Friday to Saturday 8am to 1am, Sunday 8am to 11pm.
www.albertst.com.au

Sure. The lounge at the Blue Train Cafe looks all innocent during the day…

I thought it would be appropriate to write this post today, as I feel that hazy memories are best accessed through a similarly hazy hangover.

After 10 years of waiting tables and pouring beers, earlier this year I managed to escape the iron clutches of the hospitality industry for my dream job. I thought I would never miss the late nights, the aching feet and endless dry cleaning of red wine stained white shirts of my waitressing days, but lately I think I do miss it, just a bit.

For just over four years, on and off, I worked in Melbourne at the Blue Train Cafe (BT). Taking a break from the severity and responsibility of fine dining while I was studying photography at uni, I decided I needed a little cafe culture. Little did I know, that the few weeks I planned on working at BT would draw out to years. Even today, I still can’t rule out ever going back there just for a cameo.

Working at BT shaped almost every aspect of my personality because I met and became good friends with what probably amounts 100s of people over my time there, some of whom I still consider to be my good friends even today. If you can’t afford to go travelling, go and work at BT, potentially one of the biggest cultural melting pots in Melbourne. From Sima, a 45 year old Iranian mother of two, to Little Dave, a 22 year old pint-sized British backpacker, BT is roughly the United Nations of hospitality.

Now I believe that drugs and alcohol are the best bonding aids known to man. And the best time to do drugs and drink alcohol? Knock-offs. And knock-offs at BT were (and surely still must be) the stuff of legend.

At BT, everyone wanted to work on a Monday night. Monday night was the night to clean the beer lines. After last orders had been called, the barman would start filling up pint glass after pint glass with beer. Then he would put all those pint glasses into a big blue tub, and put that blue tub smack bang in front of the staff. I have absolutely no idea what cleaning out the beer lines actually involves. What I do know, is the beer-line night meant one serious knock-off session.

Over these seriously debilitating drinking sessions I formed friendships with many people I would ordinarilly not have been fortunate to meet, as well as improving my tolerance to alcohol. We played card games, smoked way too many cigarettes and generally behaved appaulingly.

Knock-off drinks are the number one reason I would go back to waitressing. Not because I am a booze-hound (that’s irrellevant), but because I miss the company. After 8-10 hours (sometimes more) waiting tables, slaving over a hot stove or pulling pints, there is nothing better than a drink and a chat with the other staff, because they understand exactly how you feel.

It’s a kind of mate-ship that I really took for granted while I worked in hospitality. At the end of every day there were always willing participants. No ringing anyone up, no organisation, no pre-planning, just easy, relaxed spontaneous socialising.

Sure, there were the really big nights, the weddings, birthdays, the Christmas parties, but the nights I remember the best (or perhaps, don’t remember that much at all) of my 20s just involved sitting around in the lounge at BT talking shit with the staff. Now when I go back there (and I do try not to I know what goes on behind the scenes), I hardly know anyone. Those days are long gone. But I won’t forget.

When I first moved to Hobart I didn’t have any friends. Well, okay, I had one or two, but I couldn’t make them drink with me EVERY night. I was pretty lonely, and pretty homesick (for a city I’d be desperate to get out of) and pretty open to distraction. Read: beers.

The beer garden at the Republic Hotel in North Hobart provided that outlet. Home away from home (conveniently within crawling distance), and before the Alley Cat came along, my only option anyways. And you could smoke in that beer garden (back when I would smoke “full-time,” and not just intermittently like now – depending on the weather, the booze at hand and if I can afford it).

It’s best on a lazy afternoon, in particular if its raining. I think I’ve sunk more coin into this establishment than a third-world debt, but I wouldn’t say I’ve nothing to show for it. I’ve made friends here, and lost friends here, broken up petty fights and knocked other peoples drinks over, been hit on (successfully and unsuccessfully) and watched any number of my mates make ridiculous on at least a weekly basis.

A correctly timed visit and you might find the evening’s entertainment doing a sound check, although Diesel seems to be around these days a little too much for my liking.

The food’s none too shabby either. I’m particularly partial to the milk fried venison, marinated in garlic and cayenne pepper, served on a lemon and thyme risotto cake (not unlike venison KFC) and there is a porterhouse drowned in Jack Daniels sauce to soothe the inner bogan. This is the menu that price rises forgot, what other pubs still list side dishes at $4 and hand cut their own chips?

After 10 (I’m rarely ever about after 10) the band kicks on and the restaurant tables make way for what will become an utterly filthy dance floor. I’m not a fan of pubs after dark (thankfully daylight savings has increased my allotted drinking time), I prefer loungy bars with less shouting and marginally cleaner floors.

So if you are looking for me on a weekend afternoon I’m probably out the back at the Republic with a good book and a schooner, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The Republic Bar

299 Elizabeth Street, North Hobart.

(03) 6234 6954.

info@republicbar.com