the fern - redfern

it’s a cold autumn night as i approach the fern, the shining signpost directing me off pitt street; a tree-lined redfern sanctuary, only steps from cleveland and yet perfectly suburban. i shuffle through the narrow door, emerging into a warm dining room which oozes soul. the style is bric-a-brac chic which creates a super cool atmosphere without sacrificing comfort. this could easily be your artsy mate’s living room. mis-matched portraits give each section of wall its own identity while over the bar hangs a mishmash of drinking receptacles and mixologist’s tools. a friendly waiter offers me a choice of seat: either at one of the assorted vintage chairs near the entrance or in the cosier booths at the back. i prefer the intensity of the music and warmth at the front of shop, so i take the central table – the one closest to the bar.

a gruelling day at work has me itching for a drink and the enticing array of drink ingredients draws me inexorably to the cocktail list. i opt for a persephone – sparkling wine, pear, apple and rhubarb puree. the fluted drink has a pretty orange hue and tastes light, exciting and (expectedly) quite sweet. i can’t stop sipping, but it feels more like a dessert, and perhaps is not the wisest choice of aperitif. perhaps, the ferna rossa, consisting of aperol, burnt orange and vanilla syrup, grapefruit and lemon juice would have been a more appropriate pre-meal tipple. it’s a negroni-esque delight, sweeter than its classic italian grandparent but more suited to my taste. this is a perfect introduction to the classic negroni, for those needing to develop their bitter tooth.

food-wise, everything on the menu sounds just right so my dining partner and i predictably choose the 7-course degustation ($49pp) trusting in the "chef to create the perfect dining experience".

the first course of pickles (baby carrots, zucchini, brussell sprouts, cauliflower, onions) and olives arrives without pause and is beautiful to behold, but less so to consume. the pickling agent is applied too strongly for this quantity of vege and becomes unpleasantly harsh by the third or forth bite. a more restrained diner might consider saving one or two to eat with the subsequent courses, but be wary of the acidity’s dulling effect on the palate.

pickles and olives

the next course is four still-warm slices of (what must be homemade) olive bread, quickly followed by cuban-style corn with homemade white cheese and jalapeno and garlic butter. i'm not positively disposed to mild, white south american-style cheese but the slightly spicy, richly-buttered corn is just right, and fun to crunch on. it’s been all finger food so far, which my neanderthal dining partner particular enjoys. 

cuban style corn w white cheese, jalapeno and garlic butter

the courses continue coming faster than we can chew. next up are wagyu oxtail empanadas w pico de gallo - a tomato salsa with coriander and spanish onion. my partner says they have a distinct asian flavour, although that’s perhaps attributable to the fried wanton wrappers encasing the ox-tail in place of the traditional baked butter pastry. the meaty pockets are good but nothing to celebrate, perhaps a tad on the greasy side. following, the homemade falafels are pocketed in doughy pita bread with tomato, lettuce and a garlicy aioli. the flavours are sound but unexciting, however the soft pita and crunchy lettuce and falafel create a textural play that’s fun and comforting. with knife and fork still clean (and fingers filthy!) we’re enjoying ourselves immensely despite the hit-and-miss flavours.

as it turns out, the kitchen was just warming up with the finger food with the main and dessert forming the highlights of the evening. the degustation allows you a choice of three mains covering pig, pasta and fish. we choose the pan-seared barramundi fillet, languishing on a viscous bath of cauliflower puree, spiked with little radish wedges and snow pea halves. the crispy radishes rolled around in the gorgeously soft puree are incredible and all too reminiscent of the much-adored breakfast radishes in dashi butter from duke bistro. we don’t hold this against the fern – how can you begrudge a copycat when they’re this successful?

for dessert its churros in dulce de leche foam and pistachios. i learn that dulce de leche is a south american spread made from reduced condensed milk, often heaped on toast where the french might slop nutella for breakfast. the pinnacle of the evening, the churros are well fried - crispy on the outside and perfectly chewy on the inside (and eaten by hand!). the dulce de leche a foam is an easy winner (condensed milk – ‘nuff said) and we only wish we could get more of it in every bite. 

  

the meal finishes on a high, but it was definitely a very slow start (excluding cocktails). if each of the starters had its own touch of cauliflower puree or dulce de leche magic the fern would be high on my must-try list. as it stands however, it’s only a couple of dishes and drinks over which we’re exclaiming in the car trip home.

the fern gets ten points for concept. it’s a cosy, trendy, drink-friendly venue and menu, with the latter perhaps less successfully executed than the former. i’ve heard the sandwiches and burgers  are great and so i’ll definitely be back for some before-dark, finger-lickin’ fun.