Paski Vineria Popolare

20 January 2022, 8pm

A pasta bar named after a dog? What time? We’re there. Throw in some 121 BC, Ragazzi, Alberto’s Lounge and 10 William alum, and we’re even more there. That’s what you’ll find at Darlinghurst’s new kid on the block, Paski Vineria Popolare (keep ‘em coming Sydney, no city can have too much Italian).

We arrived in a bit of a fluster after forgetting we’d booked and turning up a few minutes late (worst seat may be catching up with us). Any stress, however, was instantly relieved at the sight of a jam-packed wine bar, brimming with happy faces and full glasses. We were led upstairs to the restaurant, equally as buzzing with a slightly older (but no less charming!) crowd.

Despite the relatively small dining room, we felt as though we were on the mezzanine of a factory, with exposed brick walls and a thick smell of – well, we don’t know what, but it was delicious (we landed on small goods, given the dozen or so meats on offer downstairs).

A semi-exposed kitchen and well-stocked bar remind you where you are, not to mention the subversive Last Supper mural, which is even better in real life. It looms overhead as you eat, blessing your meal in a wine-fuelled, debauched sort of way. Combining Darlinghurst’s (and our) three favourite things – food, art and dogs – these guys certainly know their demographic.

The staff are jovial and charismatic, booming drink orders and daily specials in their enviable accents. They were mostly very knowledgeable about the food, including the origins of the many ingredients unfamiliar to us on the menu (how good is the ever-challenging realm of Italian cuisine?). Service tended towards the slow side, but we are understanding of that at the moment and didn’t so much mind our evening drawing out a little longer.

We started with an aperitivo each (vermouth & soda). We just love these ice cold bittersweet drinks for summer, and Paski offers non-standard brands that pique your curiosity for the world beyond Aperol. Moving onto wine, we were surprised (in a wine bar) to find only two options for white by the glass, but the chardonnay we tried was acceptable.

To start, we shared a Sausage & rapa crostino (one was all we could justify at $12 a pop). It was nice, but not as flavoursome as we expected. We couldn’t really taste the sausage, but the cime di rapa (a bitter leafy vegetable) did come through in a lovely way. Spiked with aromatics, each bite (well, one bite each) evoked a sense of the classic southern Italian dish associated with this ingredient – also known as rapini or broccoli rabe, rapa is commonly served in sauce form with orecchiette.

Next, we each had a Tapioca & asiago fritti with chestnut honey. Texture was spot on, with a satisfying deep-fried crunch and sticky, glutinous inside which served as a refreshing take on the usual fluffy, gooey consistency of a croquette. We did find the filling in need of more flavour, but this was largely ameliorated by the sweet drizzling of nutty honey.

After those, we tried the Carne salada with grana & lovage. The thinly sliced raw beef was very tasty; simply flavoured, seasoned to perfection, and with a beautiful silky texture. Its richness was cut by the sprinkling of celery-like lovage and squeeze of tangy lemon. In our view, however, on balance the dish lacked umami. We think that may have been because the shaved Grana Padano was quite dry, rather than sharp and creamy. Perhaps it was aged for longer than we are used to (which is not necessarily a bad thing).

Starters such as these often end up our favourite dishes, but on this night, they missed the oomph we had hoped for. That said – this is a pasta bar after all, so let’s move onto mains.

We ordered the Chitarra pesto alla Genovese and Casarecce lamb ragu e Taggiasche olives. Minutes later, we overheard the daily special explained to our neighbour and lamented not having been informed of it, as it sounded phenomenal (seafood pasta in a sauce of bottarga and cultured butter). Confronting our FOMO as we realised every surrounding table had the special, we accepted our fate and tucked into the (admittedly equally inviting) bowls before us.

Pesto was a bold choice, as I have to say our homemade version slaps. Paski’s was definitely good (we’re sure you’ll love it), but it is a personal thing and for us, the flavours felt a bit tempered. We think it could benefit from more garlic, pine nuts, and pepper in particular. It was nevertheless a pleasant primavera dish, with fresh vegetables (green beans and broccoli stems) scattered throughout – but it didn’t blow your socks off like punchy pesto can.

The ragu wasn’t for me, but the other of us heartily enjoyed it. It was very rich, with a gamey flavour unusual for lamb. I personally found it a touch under-salted, but this was improved through the addition of olives. The care taken here with ingredients was obvious from the selection of Taggiasche olives, a prized variety and the basis of globally popular Ligurian D.O.P extra virgin olive oil.

What the mains shared was absolutely flawless pasta work. Both were taken to the knife edge of al dente – likely more al dente than you are used to – but trust us, it is a joyous experience. 

Lasting impressions, you ask?

In Paski, the experience of a seasoned expert meets the ingenuousness of a new endeavour. The product is a restaurant that feels somewhat in its adolescent phase – confident, full of promise, but still figuring out exactly what it wants to be and how to get there. While not fully sated by our meal on this occasion, we recognise the potential, and know – like every good coming-of-age story – that it will be a success.