Where do you go….

Life has a funny way of intervening, when you least expect. In the last four months the Hungry One and I have had a few things that squeezed themselves from the universal buffet onto our collective plate.

When you get the wind knocked out of you, you return to what you know. In the week that we scattered my mother-in-law’s ashes, we returned to Wasavie three times.

The Italians have a term for comfort eating- it translates to eating white; welcome to risotto bianca, mashed potato, gnocchi with cheese.

For us, the brief to take us to comfort was things that taste clean, which can be washed down with a cold, dry rose and preferably eaten somewhere where you’re greeted with a smile and can glimpse the sea if you stand on your tippy toes.

Wasavie is tucked away down Heely st in Paddington- conveniently right next to the bottle shop at 5- ways, a walk from great galleries and away from the madding crowds of Oxford st on a Saturday.

It’s an oblong room, where you can see the sushi chef working right in front of you. It’s a communal table that’s maybe just a touch too wide to comfortably seat groups of four across from each other. The tables outside on the street however, are perfect- they’re sheltered by big umbrellas in the summer, heating lamps in winter and are precariously placed on a down hill gradient that allows you to squint down to patches of blue harbour that you never thought you could see from Paddington.

There are many things on the two laminated menus, but there are some that are unmissable. No matter what kind of day you’ve had, you want to start with the warm edamame and an ice bucket for the Rose you’ve just bought from one of the last, true independent bottle shops in Sydney next door.

You’re then going to need to try the beef tataki. Finely seared strips of the softest beef, that you try to cook at home, but never manage to, laid out on a platter, evoking images to me of beautiful bathroom tiles. There’s three mounds of fun, flanking the north end that you’ll want to scatter all over the top- a pillar of wakame, zippy beads of ponzu relish, that is so piquant that it makes me ponder what it would be like swirled through a tanqueray and tonic,and bean sprout shoots. Make sure you get a bit of each with each mouthful

Seasoned visitors will then point in the direction of the sushi and sashimi omakase plate- whatever is great that day, freshly carved, just for you. The Hiramasa farmed kingfish, tuna and salmon belly are always what I get to first. You just need to be quick with the chopsticks. Happy friends to accompany are slices of eggplant, that have been smothered in sweetened white miso paste and grilled until they’re bubbling into submission. If there are two -three of you, order one serving- it’s pretty rich. But if there are any more in the party, you’ll regret not ordering another.

You could make a couple of choices here- you could go down the route of tempura- it’s good here, but really- when is tempura not just fried vegetables and some prawns? You could also go the agedashi tofu- because Wasavie does an excellent version of that too.

But you’re going to have to make sure you’ve left room for the Bukatini. It’s pork belly- but not quite in the roll-your-eyes, it’s 2006 and every restaurant south of Ballina has to have some version of fatty pig tummy on the menu kind of way. Unlike all the others who shuffled that little piggy off to make room for the wagyu and purees train, Wasavie has stood firm. Probably because nobody will ever let them take it off the menu.

It’s two pieces, both about the size of a deck of cards. It’s slow cooked in a master stock that has to have ginger, star anise, soy, and enough brown sugar to make you swoon. It’s got enough of the cooking liquid puddling around the flesh to keep it moist. It’s served with a mound of hot english mustard ontop that blows out the back of your nostrils just enough to make you remember you’re still alive. It goes so well with the organic brown rice that they serve as a side that you wonder why anyone would ever want to eat white. Every now and again, the way it falls apart in the bowl and in your mouth makes you want to thank some being for letting things like this coexist in your world.

With a mixed green salad to cut through ( I don’t think it’s on the menu- but just ask- it comes fresh as a daisy, slicked lightly with a walnut oil and citrus dressing)- it’s the perfect mix of earnest, fresh and zippy, with enough of a bassline of richness to make you feel grounded again.

You’re also not going to want to miss the glass desserts. I know you don’t usually associate dessert wonders with Asian restaurants- but there’s a reason this place is a favorite of the Hungry One’s. For $5 pick one of the day’s specials written on the whiteboard inside. In a small beaker you could end up with vanilla mousse with blueberry jelly capping it, or chocolate mousse with orange and strawberry jelly… Then pick an icecream flavour- brown rice tea, vanilla bean, and chocolate are all outstanding. Eaten with a teaspoon, jelly and icecream is really what comfort food is about for The Hungry One.

Three visits in a week, three desserts, pork bellies and beef tatakis later, we were almost ready to face the world again- but more than that- we were reminded that sometimes it’s the big things that throw you all together, but it’s the little things that make you the gladdest to be here.

We’d never got a chance to take the Hungry One’s mother to Wasavie, despite the fact they lived just around the corner. I’m think she would have loved it too.