The Corner House

They do things differently at The Corner House. Guests are supplied with scissors to cut up their own pizzas. The wine list is pegged to what looks like a cardboard off-cut: the written word is welcomed, indeed preferred to any unnecessary conversation with the waiters. Not that the service is bad; it's just that the noise (in the back room at least) is punishing. If the Heart Foundation can hand out ticks, then Hearing Australia should consider introducing its own rating system.

But most patrons don't seem to mind. The young and the beautiful probably see customer-generated noise as the new barometer of success. And The Corner House is already playing to packed houses on a strip of Bondi Road that has been quietly simmering away for a while now, producing The Flying Squirrel and The Rum Diaries.

The Corner House follows a similar vibe: sure, you can eat, but drinking is a respected pursuit and many of its customers head straight upstairs to the bar.

The interior has a nice mix of timber and soft banquettes; the kitchen is playful with its output. DIY pizza cutting isn't the only quirk; The Corner House takes the half-half pizza to a new level with the quarter-quarter-quarter-quarter Crowded House ($22). The base is extremely crisp, but the toppings are good-quality and imaginative. Gnocchi ($24) is reasonable but dominated by its cheesy bedfellows, while the spatchcock ($29) has an addictive sweet edge and the roasted almond take on salsa verde is cute, coarse and appealingly rustic.

The Corner House's decibel level might not appeal to all, but its equal measures of bar and restaurant are yet more proof of Sydney's evolution. Not groundbreaking, but a sign of how far we've come.

In a few words: Bondi venue without the beach.

Come here for: A fun, hip, noisy time.