Icebergs Dining Room and Bar

The last time I was at Icebergs on a Sunday it was a long weekend in January. I reckon there were at least 10 blokes swishing around the room wearing navy blue blazers and chinos whiter than my complexion. Watching beautiful women get boozy on gin and trying to net one of these Mr Porters (who were all far more interested in their Tom Waterhouse gambling accounts than misguided flirting) was just as brilliant as watching waves crash against the rocks below and a fine afternoon was had by all.

South-of-the-border-chef Andrew McConnell (Cumulus Inc, Supernormal) was also on food duties that day and credit should to be given to Icebergs owner Maurice Terzini for his hosting of pop-ups that give Sydney a taste of Melbourne's best restaurants (see also Belle's Hot Chicken). Here's to more of them, Mozz.

Anyway, after six months it was time for another Icebergs Sunday session. I was keen to check out the bar's new winter menu and since my parents were in town, I thought it would be nice to take them there to experience the view. No one is not impressed by that view, which is even better in winter when the sky is 50 shades of grey and there's commotion in the ocean (although Dad was not impressed by driving all the way from Glebe to "Botany" as he likes to call Bondi).

At 2pm on a rainy afternoon, Icebergs is an easygoing place. Instead of dudes who look like they're about to embark on a coastal cruise of Liguria, the bar is comfortably filled with European tourists and couples stopping in for a quick spritz after the David Jones clearance sale. Lo-fi dance music pumps along at sensible volume and the staff are all a delight.

Monty Koludrovic is a beaut chef and you can make a knock-out long lunch just out of the bar menu. Smoked baccala croquettes ($20) have a perfectly crunchy crust housing creamy flecks of salt cod and make a serious bid for Australia's greatest fish fingers. They come with a killer black garlic and olive aioli which is actually a much better suitor for a basket of polenta chips ($14) than the sour cream the golden rods are served with.

Eating minute steaks at a bar is one of my favourite activities and Koludrovic's flat and full-flavoured bistecchina with lemon ($27) makes Icebergs one of the best boozers to engage in the hobby. The linguine "squid pro quo" has left the menu (which is a shame because it's one of the all-time great food puns) but it's been replaced by a decidedly un-wintery spaghetti alle vongole ($22) with beautifully sweet and meaty clams.

There's Asahi on tap for $10 a pop and I could happily sit on frosted beer glasses of it all day.

The cocktail list is worth exploring, and even the old boy is a fan of his No. 333 ($19.80), a tall and tangy tumbler of Pampero Especial rum, Kraken spiced rum, Creme de Peche, green Chartreuse, apple juice and passionfruit. Meanwhile, the No. 618 ($19.80) is a tart, highly drinkable mix of Hennessy, orange Curacao, orgeat and lime, and makes me wish I had a nice navy blazer to wear while drinking it.

There's only a handful of wines on the bar menu but if you ask nicely you can order vino from the restaurant's list instead. It's full of quality Australian and Italian drops and has swell natural and organic page rocking wines from Cullen, Pheasant's Tears and Walter Massa.

I like too many inner west pubs to ever move east but Icebergs is a great incentive to do so. If I lived nearby I would totally be slinking in here every Sunday afternoon for a couple of beers and the ocean view. It's is a bloody good bar and as long as it keeps evolving in the way it has been it'll be here for a long time yet.

THE TAKEAWAY: 

Go for… views of a sparkling Pacific Ocean.

Stay for… views of an angry Pacific Ocean. 

Drink… the No. 618.

And… there's a natural wine disco every Thursday night.