Firedoor

20 November 2021, 8.45pm

Firedoor has gained almost legendary status in Australia and around the world. Equally so has Lennox Hastie, earning a Good Food Guide “Chef of the Year” award among multiple other accolades, plus a cameo on the hit Netflix show Chef’s Table. The concept is genius – no gas or electricity with which to cook – only fire. It’s real caveman stuff.

After joining the waitlist early this year, we were fortunate to snap up one of a few extra tables released for July. Then came Sydney lockdown 2.0. Two postponements later (which we are grateful were not cancellations), and we finally rolled up that bustling Surry Hills backstreet on Saturday, 20 November for our 8.45pm reservation.

The restaurant was bigger than we expected, with an open layout and industrial finish – all brick, timber, metal. Our excitement was palpable as we were led to a table right in front of the exposed kitchen (best seat in the house – can you believe it?!), but we felt for those on the far side of the room, away from the action.

Recalling Hastie’s Chef’s Table episode, if you’ve seen it, will conjure images of him in and amongst the flames, poking and prodding at hot coals inside the “Gates of Hell” (aka the oven), blowing on smouldering embers and creating wisps of ash and smoke in the process. Well – the reality is no different. There he was – and we couldn’t quite believe it. The man, the myth, the legend – doing his thing – in all its blaze of glory. 

Our waiter told us that Chef Hastie works every night the restaurant is open. His dedication and passion are clear, as is his and his team’s hard work. They are on display to diners (and at the mercy of chatty ones) but engaged in a high-heat, sensitive and unpredictable method of cooking – all the while being filmed and photographed (sorry) and not to mention, acutely aware of expectations. Just as remarkable are the waitstaff, who were not only bubbly and attentive, but knowledgeable about the food and happy to discuss it with us.

The inspired menu offered a lot to work with – pretty much paleo with its focus on meat, seafood, fruit and vegetables (caveman stuff, remember?) but elevated by Australian natives and an odd wacky ingredient or two. But… and here’s the rub – we felt that the execution, on this night at least, lacked the sense of adventure we had come for.

When you see fire and smell smoke – that is what you want. But somehow – that is not what we got. More fundamentally, when you come to a restaurant as acclaimed as Firedoor, you expect next-level, blow-your-face-off deliciousness. But again – that is not what we got on this visit. Now, please – let us explain.

The menu was a five-course degustation, with additional optional courses – of which we chose two. We opened the meal with a surprise in the form of an amuse bouche – House-made potato and linseed cracker with ricotta and onion. We enjoyed the seeded flavour of the cracker, and the topping was fine – tasting of fresh ricotta without much else. 

The first course was Pencil squid with celtuce, fermented chilli and sunrise lime. Put simply, we could not find the notion of fire in this dish. It was lukewarm, there was no discernible char in taste or texture on the squid (which was instead, surprisingly stringy), and the chilli sauce lacked heat – we found it without much depth of flavour, and think it could have benefitted from a little extra salt.

Next, we had our first optional course, Marron with rosella and persimmon. This dish meant business – we were presented with the marron live beforehand (be warned) and were given ALL the tools to surgically attack our plated friend. Scary stuff aside, this was easily our favourite course of the night. 

The meat was perfectly cooked, with a buttery texture and subtle shellfish flavour (albeit that – as with the squid – there was curiously little hint of it having been prepared over open fire). We weren’t so sure about the cactus-looking green bits, but enjoyed the sweet fruitiness of the rosella petals. Again, we felt it was a little under-salted – but this now being a trend, and knowing Firedoor’s philosophy around respecting ingredients, we assume it was intentional.

The second course was Zucchini with smoked buttermilk, fig leaf and aged la dame. The zucchini was beautifully pure in flavour – and we could at least see char marks now!

We love the story behind the aged la dame, a semi-hard goat’s cheese matured over four years and founded in sustainable practices (having been developed to extend the longevity of producer The Barossa Valley Cheese Company’s goat milk supply). It is clearly a superior product – with a crumbly texture and sharp, rich, salty taste almost like parmesan. But – we felt that here, it lacked balance alongside the delicate zucchini, such that the dish became almost too cheesy (we know, we never thought we’d say that either).

This course was served with Shady’s pumpkin loaf (from PiOik Bakery), smoked butter and toasted rye. The loaf had a strong fermented taste, like sourdough, and a decadent almost cakey texture. It was a very special bread – but in our view, an oversight was made by serving it cold. We were perplexed by this, given the enormous oven licked with flames just a few paces away. We did like the butter and toasted rye, which offered a sweet smokiness on the palette. 

By the way – while we ate these early courses, we sipped on the Firedoor x Lord Nelson “ember ale” (a must) and the “shades of blueberry” cocktail (also a must, effortlessly blending sweet, sour and fruit into a dangerously smooth tipple). We moved on to a glass of wine each, which we very much enjoyed (a Gruner Veltliner from Austria, and a Chardonnay from the Mornington Peninsula).

The third course was Coral trout with charred cos, cucumber and desert lime. It would seem like low-hanging fruit in a fire-based restaurant to serve crispy-skinned fish, but on our pieces, its texture was soft and chewy. The flesh was also quite firm, rather than flaky and smooth, and we felt that it lacked aromatics. We enjoyed the char on the lettuce however, and welcomed the freshness of the cucumber – although we would probably have preferred a zingier freshness from the lime, which wasn’t especially evident.

Next was our second optional course, Pipis with house made XO. We have been lucky enough to try phenomenal XO at modern Chinese establishments like Mr Wong and more traditional haunts like (the late) Golden Century. Firedoor’s XO was OK, but perhaps lacking the deep umami hit we had hoped for. The pipis were served lukewarm (in contrast to the usual piping hot) and a couple tasted a bit fishy for us.

The fourth course was Stockinpiggle pork with peppers, garlic scapes and apricot. Digressing a moment because it was particularly the case for this dish – we loved the elegant plating and all the bespoke ceramics used, almost geological in shades and textures. 

The pork was cooked well – all juice and succulence – and the fatty crackling was (obviously) ambrosial. The apricot was wonderful on its own, of course offering its signature tartness, but the open flame introducing a lovely sweetness as well. The pepper was a little on the potent side, but we liked the garlic scape which brought that unmistakeable garlic flavour in a texturally new way. We felt, however, that when eaten all together, these ingredients may have overwhelmed rather than balanced the pork.

The fifth and final course – dessert – was a Kouign-Amann with smoked mascarpone and burnt mango. The pastry was awesome – buttery like a croissant inside and blistered-sugariness-sticking-in-our-teeth on top. We certainly got a decent serve of smoke from the mascarpone, though it was actually a bit too powerful for us (haha). We also thought the mango ice cream could have been a touch less sweet and couldn’t really taste the “burnt” mango – but the fragments of fresh mango were nice?

Drinks-wise, we ended the night with a glass of dessert wine each. We recommend the Canberra option if your menu is similar to ours, as the apricot and honey notes harmonised nicely with what we had eaten. Food-wise, we closed the meal with another surprise – this time a petit four – Peppermint and chocolate slice. We’re impartial to an after-dinner mint, and if you’re a fan of bitter chocolate, this one’s for you.

Lasting impressions, you ask?

The notion – and to some extent, the experience – of Firedoor evokes high drama. But in the context of such lofty expectations, our meal was, in the end, anticlimactic. 

We understand the ambition – to honour each ingredient by demonstrating its authentic flavour. With the quality of produce served, purism really is the only option. We appreciated the resulting subtlety in some instances, but in others, felt that visible opportunities to showcase the unique culinary expression were missed.

At the outset, we chose not to order either of the optional steak courses (one of which was $350). Perhaps if our budget had extended to this, we would have found that more satisfying “fire and brimstone” moment we were looking for.

Note to Reader: If you have been to Firedoor or manage to nab a future reservation – please do get in touch. We are interested to hear how you found it, particularly if you had a great experience. We so badly want to love this place – so will welcome any excuse to return!