Asian fusion has a new outpost near Central Station, writes Nick Dent.
Who said minimalism was dead? Sugarcane has been designed as a sparse, futuristic room, lit by six glowing amoeboid shapes protruding from the lime green walls. Aliens would be quite at home eating here after a hard day of probing abducted earthlings. Some people might find the restaurant’s fitout a bit sterile, but I like it. It reminds me of the 1990s.
Another thing that takes me back to those halcyon days – when I was young, new in town, and hungry for Sin City’s pleasures – is pad thai. Discovering this dish of noodles that was salty and sweet at the same time made me about as giddy as the sight of my first Mardi Gras Parade. It quickly became a lunchtime staple. (I was very slender in those days – carbohydrates were something that happened to other people.) Sydney, to me, will always taste like crushed peanuts.
Ordering pad thai ($15) at Sugarcane will get you something a lot more wholesome than the oily stuff I used to gobble down back then. It has more fresh bean sprouts on top of it than a game of pick up sticks. Under the sprouts lies a forest of papaya slivers, and rice noodles that are springy rather than gluggy. Acidic with lime juice, sharp with shallots, it also has a little chilli in it too. It makes me sigh for the good old days, without making me fret for my waistline.
The restaurant was opened recently by a couple of alumni from the nearby Longrain. It’s at the bottom of Reservoir Street, at about the spot where Surry Hills ends and Chinatown begins. Offering civilised, mid-priced Asian fusion – Thai and Vietnamese with dashes of Malaysian and Chinese – it has bite-sized treats on the menu such as a Coffin Bay oyster with lime and sugarcane dressing ($3) or a prawn on a crispy rice cake ($3) topped with lime, coriander, ginger and chilli.
Palate thoroughly stimulated by these titbits, I’m ready for a crispy salmon salad in nam jim dressing ($28). Cubes of grilled salmon are sequestered under a glorious haystack of papaya, coriander and halved cherry tomatoes. The fish’s skin sits flat on top, as crisp and crunchy as a pappadum. The nam jim is a touch milder than I would like, but Sugarcane is not really about blowing your head off with heat. And that’s okay. One does not always wish to come away from a southeast Asian feed feeling like the aliens have been rummaging around in one’s insides.
Sugarcane
40A Reservoir Street, Surry Hills
Tel: 9281 1788
Mon-Fri noon-2.30pm
Mon-Sat 6pm-10pm
Dishes $3-$28
Dessert $12
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