French$$
Here's one from the "Well, waddya know?" files: Sydney once had a rum hospital. There, friends, are two words that should probably never be seen together unless prefaced by "cause" and "cure". That particular masterstroke was a Governor Macquarie project, using convict labour to save cash and holding the monopoly on rum running to make a profit. Turns out, it didn't work out to be a particularly good money-spinner. But turning it into a mint certainly was, quite literally.
Now the Sydney Mint is a French bistro. Bistro Mint opened its doors quietly midway through last year and has been doing steady trade ever since. In no small thanks, I'm hazarding a wild guess, to being smack bang in the middle of law land on Macquarie Street. They're in a beautiful old heritage building off the side of Hyde Park and happily, also tantalisingly close to my favourite Sydney statue, Il Porcellino.
Sometimes it's all about a little salad, steak frites, a soup, maybe a sandwich. And this straight-shooter nails the brief perfectly. Maybe it'll be an entree of big floppy ravioli, filled with cheese and bathed in a bright, quick-fire tomato sauce bejewelled with broad beans and garnished with a few shavings of parmesan and some nice knife work on the parsley.
A reuben tartine (everybody's favourite celebrity "stuff on toast") sees two slices of baguette layered with corned beef, pickles, sauerkraut, melted cheese and a few dabs of a sort of thousand island dressing. It's a piquant son of a gun. Add a little baby spinach side salad alongside a mountain of French fries and you've got a complete meal. And at $22 for a sandwich, it's most definitely a complete meal. No need for entree.
A word, though, on the thoroughly bizarre combination of choco-olive oil mousse captured in a hard dark chocolate sphere with a scoop of mint ice-cream in a bitter-tasting apricot anglaise: it's not unlike brushing your teeth straight after eating a yoghurt. Another, too, on waitstaff spray'n'wiping the tables while I'm still eating. (C'mon! The restaurant isn't exactly packed on a rainy Monday lunch – you could probably hold back until I've paid the bill, guys.)
But hey – it's pretty much the perfect place to hole up on a cool day with a bottle of Badoit and a book. There's low jazz, the occasional show tune and the whole place has that nice warm well-thumbed, museumy smell – like paper and well-trodden floorboards and dust and, well, time. During the warmer months, there's the big verandah and a glass of chablis.
So this place isn't frying chicken or making freakshakes. Good. They're doing something better – just smashing out really classic French bistro fare. And you know what? It's kinda great.
THE TAKEAWAY:
Pro tip Visit later in the week for a proper taste of a bustling bistro. Plus, you might see someone rushing from court in one of those special wigs
Try this The reuben tartine is a cute cultural mash-up of Paris meets NYC
Bottom line Reuben ($22); ravioli ($20); mousse ($17)
Like this? Cafe Nice also does a roaring Gallic lunch trade. 2 Phillip Street, Circular Quay 02 8248 9600
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