Darlinghurst: Detritus: Happy New Year

 Happy new year from Darlinghurst! I hope 2011 brings you good things. 

I actually took this picture during the 9pm fireworks, which I watched - Champagne in hand - from Poos on Sticks. Quite a little crowd of strangers had gathered and we all ooohed and aaahed together and became friends.

Then as soon as the fireworks were over, the small crowd of new friends dispersed. 

Later, I went to a party in an apartment at the flats at 1 Tewkesbury Avenue, which had the most amazing wrap-around verandas with views across the neighbourhood. Unfortunately the Horizon apartment building completely blocked out any view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge, which is fireworks central, so I missed the ''X Marks the Spot'' theme that the cracker show was based upon. I assume there was a big X on the bridge, which doesn't sound all that exciting anyway.

I have never been in to the 1 Tewkesbury Avenue flats before, so it was interesting to see Darlinghurst from such a different perspective. I especially loved seeing the beautiful spire of St John's Church lit up in the night:

I didn't disgrace myself too badly at the party, so maybe the hostess will invite me back during the day so I can have another glimpse of the neighbourhood from above. 

Darlinghurst: Street Art: Ruins

I was mooching around the back-streets of Darlinghurst today with my girlfriend, Ruby Molteno, when she spotted this spooky stencil of a man's face hiding among the ruins of a terrace on the corner of Bourke and Stanley streets. As usual, the Horizon manages to sneak in to the shot.

Darlinghurst: Food: Sushi Yachiyo

Sushi Yachiyo is not one of my usual Darlinghurst haunts, in fact, I went there for the first time about two weeks ago on my first Saturday night home from overseas. The tiny Japanese restaurant at 13 Kirketon Road is tucked away beneath the Art Wall building, whose rusty-looking facade fronts William Street.

I don't really like Japanese food and I especially loathe nori because it smells so disgusting. I hate sushi, but I do love sashimi. And no, I do not like endamame, even if it is complimentary.

I have also never been a fan of the Art Wall, which is essentially a plain office building with a lace-like, oxidised-metal rectangle mounted on its street-facing side. It used to have a billboard-sized Aboriginal artwork perched across the top of the lace-work, but at the moment it just has a blank space with the words, ''Buy this space for art-advertising'', or some such wank. Anyway I don't like it because it looks, well, rusty, and dirty, even when it was freshly unwrapped in 2004. Here is a picture of the Art Wall, with Harry Seidler's Horizon in the background, which I took today:

Nevertheless I was with two female friends, Ruby Molteno and Nina Ricci who is pregnant, and I was happy for them to decide on our dinner location. Sushi Yachiyo opened last year and despite its remote location and small space, is very popular with the Sydney sushi-set. On the night we visited, we called first to book a table, but after arriving we then had to wait about 10-minutes for the previous diners to vacate theirs. It wasn't a big deal and once inside I was rather happy with the cosy and darkly lit space.

There is an open kitchen along one wall, so that if you sit at the bar you can watch chef and owner Mitsuhiro Yashio slicing up the sashimi. The waiters, especially the older mama, were friendly and attentive and we had drinks - lychee juice in a can for me - within minutes. We ordered three dishes to share between the three of us, and the first to arrive was this yumbo grilled salmon dish, which didn't really taste very Japanese at all:

We ate it all up, while struggling to keep our bowls, plates, glassware and chopsticks from falling from our tiny, round table. Soon after, our plate of tempura arrived, causing more traffic problems at the table, but it was eaten quickly too:

The tempura included prawns, fish and vegetable pieces, as well as an oyster, which I didn't dare go near! I prefer my oysters raw. We had decided upon the next dish while standing outside the door waiting for our table. There was a Sydney Morning Herald food-review taped to the window in which Helen Greenwood raved about the ''kami-nabe'':

''A pale clay brazier with a low blue flame is placed on a small wooden plinth and has a fretwork metal, pleated bowl lined with pleated paper called washi on top. We watch as slices of salmon and kingfish, resting on enoki mushrooms, chopped chinese cabbage and a few shiitake mushrooms, cook slowly. The textures of the fish, mushrooms and cabbage are mesmerising."

Tempted by the idea that food could be mesmerising, we ordered it:

Yes, it looks rather odd doesn't it, but my bad flash-photography does not really do it any favours. Sitting inside that paper-fan bowl was a blandish Japanese broth along with mysterious and not-all-that mesmerising mushrooms with pieces of fish.

It was all a bit too much like a lucky-dip for my liking and it was just my lucky-dip-luck that when I dived in with my chopsticks I came out with something white, with the texture of scallop, but curiously flavourless. Good god, what was it? I wasn't sure if it was mushroom or flesh from the sea. I had a few more goes with the chopsticks but realised I am not so brave with food after all. Ruby proved more adventurous and knocked back a broth-soaked oyster, but later, with a bad taste on her tongue, wished she hadn't.

I was more concerned about Nina as I'm told there's a long list of what expectant mothers can't eat, including soft-cheeses, nuts and raw fish. Because of the brazier-style cooking of the kami-nabe, none of the pieces in the broth were evenly cooked, so that food at the bottom of the paper-fan bowl was well-cooked, while the fish and mushrooms sitting near the top were only cooked in parts. I pointed this out to Nina but she wasn't too worried and just poked her chopsticks in to the broth and fished out some more salmon.

Both Ruby and Nina ordered desserts: one looked like a flying saucer and was comprised of a chocolatey-bean paste sandwiched between two crispy round discs that tasted like dried rice-paper. The other was like a vanilla agar-agar and deliciously refreshing.

When we left the restaurant I noticed these wise, slightly unintelligible, but strangly appropriate words chalked up on the rusty-facade outside Sushi Yachiyo's door:

Whatever you do/Whoever you are

It don't make a difference too much/Whan make any difference

*

Sushi Yachiyo

1/13 Kirketon Road

Darlinghurst NSW 2010

02 9331 8107

Darlinghurst: An Introduction

Located on the eastern edge of the Sydney CBD, Darlinghurst - with a population of just over 10,000 - is bordered by Woolloomooloo, Kings Cross, Paddington and Surry Hills.

William Street, known for its street prostitution, borders the neighbourhood on the north, while Oxford Street, famous for its gay bars and night life, runs along Darlinghurst's southern end. To the east are the posh suburbs of Woollahra, Darling Point and Double Bay.

Linking William and Oxford Streets, running north to south, are Darlinghurst's main streets - Victoria Street and Darlinghurst Road, which are home to cafes, pubs and boutiques.

I have names for all the different parts of the neighbourhood, such as The Ridge, The Flats, and The Lowlands but I won't go into that now, suffice to say that I live on "Darlinghurst Hill", the highest point of the suburb on Royston Street.

Darlinghurst is home to writers, musicians and artists, including actor Hugo Weaving, filmmaking couple Baz Luhrmann and Catherine Martin (who live in the suburb's historic mansion, Iona), author Peter Robb and novelist Mandy Sayer, whose husband, playwright Louis Nowra, lives across the border in Kings Cross.

The neighbourhood's prominent sites include St John's Anglican Church (the steeple of which I can always see from the window of a plane):

St Vincent's Hospital:

and the Sydney Jewish Museum (which I used to live across the road from).

Another famous landmark is the Harry Seidler-designed, 43-storey Horizon building, which casts a shadow on the neighbourhood and can also be used to pinpoint Darlinghurst by air.

The suburb also hosts a fire station, a Ken Unsworth sculpture (unaffectionately dubbed "Poos on Sticks"; shown in the photograph at the top of the page), as well as the Stables Theatre, Darlinghurst Courthouse and the National Art School.

Darlinghurst does not have a train station (Kings Cross Station is nearby) but is serviced by the rogue 311 Bus (more on that another day).

For a history of Darlinghurst read Larry Writer's fine book, Razor, and for the suburb's Wikipedia entry click here.