Bar Machiavelli
10 Neild Avenue, Rushcutters Bay,
Sydney, NSW, 2011
+02 9357 7750
The team behind Bar Machiavelli have certainly stayed true to the name, adopting plenty of cunning and dexterity in their approach to their Rushcutters Bay site.
It’s a well-known tricky location for restaurateurs, so perhaps a Machiavellian level of emotional-intelligence is just what was needed to succeed.
Whether or not they needed to employ darker 15th century-esque techniques to get there, nobody knows. But then again, Niccolò Machiavelli was a pretty smooth operator and if he was working you over, he made damn sure you probably enjoyed the process.
The system seems to have worked because we dined on a rainy Tuesday night and every table was full.
Marrying all the dressings of a fine-dining experience with satisfying fare that packs a flavour punch but still delicate enough not to inspire an immediate food coma — or ‘abbiocco’, as they say in Italy — Bar Machiavelli hits the spot in all the right ways, you could think of it as a warm and comforting fist in a velvet glove.
We’re talking about thin long strips of flat pappardelle pasta stirred with tender slow-cooked duck ragout, a dish that usually simultaneously causes mouths to water but stomachs to twinge in preparation for the richness of the meat and oil. However, it becomes immediately clear from the first bite that Chef Paola Toppi has made good on his mission to serve Italian minus the the cuisine’s trademark heaviness.
The goal being to compel the flavours, not coerce.
It’s a style that seems to marry well with the famous sprawling space of its 10 Neild Avenue venue. Those high warehouse ceilings say so much and many previous establishments seem to have felt the weight of their presence too heavy a burden to bear.
Bar Machiavelli has instead embraced the sense of levity in the room, injected that into their menu and then opted for clever use of downlighting and ornate candelabras to provide the cosiness.
The result isn’t so much less being more, rather balance being the key ingredient in the recipe.
And in the end, isn’t that the ultimate key to ‘la dolce vita’? Machiavelli might think so.
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