Panna Cotta to die for.
In a year already marked by showy,
multimillion-dollar openings, the resounding Sydney hit thus far has been an
establishment that can count paper tablecloths and plastic tomato-shaped
ketchup bottles among its design highlights. Not that
Glebe Point Diner is a less-than-polished experience: it's just
down-home without pretense. A short, sweet blackboard menu lists the likes of
sorrel-and-pea soup, sexed-up with just-shucked Pacific oysters, alongside
green olive and beef shoulder ragu with rigatoni. The suckling pig—its skin
richly bronzed, the meat succulent and tender—comes accented with salt, spice,
prunes, and lentils. And few dessert menus please the inner child and outer
restaurant critic so equally as one listing both banana fritters with rum 'n' raisin
ice-cream and a rosemary-and-honey panna cotta teamed with pinkly roasted
quince. It comes as something of a relief to visit a new restaurant that
saddles you with no concept and offers no instruction on how the menu works or
how to eat each dish. Order, eat, swoon, and repeat as often as the quite
reasonable prices allow.