Sydney's secret Scandinavian restaurant

This town has never been one for hidden treasures. If it's got it, Sydney won't just flaunt it, but shove it in your face then twirl away, laughing, while posting it on Instagram.

So an anonymous door off Pitt Street that leads down 34 steps to a very long, charmless, dark and narrow corridor with no end in sight, is not your usual approach to a new Sydney restaurant. Does Facebook even work down here?

At the end is a security door with a little blue buzzer. Press it and gain admittance to a dark and shadowy world of hanging Edison light bulbs, rough-hewn walls, and shelves of kitchen preserves. Snug booths line the wall and soft kangaroo pelts hang over the backs of wooden chairs, evoking the Danish concept of "hygge", or cosiness. 

Welcome to Norsk Dor, a modern Scandinavian-themed restaurant, heavy on the theme, from the team behind nearby basement bar Uncle Ming's. 

Chef Damien Ruggiero's menu is also northerly themed, with its skagen, fiskesuppe and hasselback potatoes. Skagen ($19), the traditional buttery, dill-flecked prawns-on-toast of Sweden, is dressed-up for dinner and topped with a whole smoked prawn that adds drama but is a little pasty.

Swedish fish soups can be horrendously rich and creamy, but this fisksuppe ($42) is a pleasant, homely broth, punched up with herbs and studded with prawns, big fleshy clams (how good are clams this winter?), blue eye and salmon that are somewhat overcooked. 

Drink-wise, most of the dressed-up crowd hit the cocktails or a lightly spicy, refreshing wheat ale. A pragmatically short 15-bottle runs to a ripe, elegant 2014 Ross Hill Pinnacle chardonnay from Orange ($16/$85).

Top marks to Ruggiero for staying true to the strong Scandinavian love of bread, with a basket of rye breads, crispbreads and dark rye rolls, and bowls of salty cultured butter and a warm, sweet emulsion of goosefat and onions ($8) that's like taking breakfast on the set ofVikings.

The roll makes a second appearance with an equally Viking-friendly marrowbone ($17) that has been brined, roasted and topped with celery seeds. Teamed with a glass of akvavit to cut the greasiness, it's a fun action dish.

There's venison, of course, in a "sampler" ($44) that's like a busy buffet on a plate. The slow-cooked, shredded shoulder is topped with matchstick fries; sliced tenderloin mixes it with smoked backstrap and pickled onions. There's a towering priapic parsnip that would probably be better served horizontal than vertical; plus roasted carrots, and carrot puree. Plus fresh fig, and blue cheese and apple. Plus a cute little jug of venison jus. It's all fine, but so elaborate you forget you're eating venison.  

Dessert is simpler; a single pear poached in mulled wine ($10) with beetroot ice-cream and a very runny pear anglaise.

There's a disarming charm and plenty of good intentions here; balanced against surprisingly high menu prices, elaborate "presented three ways" plating, and a slightly anachronistic air, as if the whole New Nordic movement never existed. Or maybe it couldn't find the door.