Ursula’s

6 November 2021, 1pm

Apt for a restaurant named after co-owner Lis Davies’ mother, Ursula’s wraps its arms around you and gives you a big old hug. Exquisite food from (other) co-owner and chef Phil Wood evokes all the emotion of your childhood favourites, the terrace setting with vintage-inspired tableware takes you right back home, and the mixtape-style* background music reminds you of that time your dad discovered Spotify.

When we read of Ursula’s upcoming opening, it wasn’t just added to our list – it knocked the others out of the way and claimed top spot. Hinted menu items such as beef carpaccio with kaffir lime sounded wonderful – and, being somewhat apprehensive of ‘fusion’ food, we were more than intrigued. 

So, we arrived at our 1pm reservation with expectations soaring through the dainty Paddington roof. And let us say – they were exceeded all the way up to the sunny Spring day sky. What Ursula’s offers is unforced fusion – combinations so effortless that you would never have noticed they weren’t made for each other, flavours so delicious that it seems nothing but destiny could have brought them together.

In keeping with the restaurant’s aspirations, as advised by our waiter, of casual everyday dining – lunchtime is a distinctly family affair. The talk of “casual everyday”, however, is noticeably humble in light of the exceptional food.

To start, we shared the Beef carpaccio with kaffir lime, parmesan and roasted tomato spiced chilli dressing and the Crudo of snapper, scampi, tuna, avocado and basil pistachio pesto. The picturesque plating was bright and colourful without being gaudy (but this did not surprise us given the overall delightful design and graphics – it took all my willpower not to snitch a menu).

Not at all hyperbolising, our eyes rolled into our heads when we tasted the carpaccio. The beef was sliced so thin that it dissolved on the tongue, yet the remnants of marbled fat delivered that unmistakeable meaty flavour in epic proportion. The tomato dressing brought heat and umami, while the dusting of parmesan offered creaminess and salt. The addition of kaffir lime was extraordinary, the intensity of this fragrant citrus offsetting the otherwise rich ingredients. A traditional Italian dish elevated so gracefully with a classic Thai flavour – we told you: unforced fusion.

The crudo was light, fresh, balanced – but above all, scrumptious. We loved the fattiness of the tuna with the tangy mandarin and nuttiness of the pesto, although we felt that the snapper (also paired with this combination) was too delicate a selection and got slightly lost. We were also a bit sad to find only one piece of scampi on the plate, but at least that piece was perfect – adorned with a pinch of salt and cured impeccably to that ‘chewy but tender’ level that paired so well with the creamy avocado.

For mains, we ordered the Coral trout with warrigal greens, trout roe and butter cream sauce and the Roast Bannockburn chicken with mushroom duxelles, gai lan and konbu butter sauce. At a mere a glance, these dishes showed us that Chef Wood unequivocally knows what the people want. That, friends – is SAUCE, LOTS OF SAUCE (and if you don’t know, now you know).

The roast chicken was utter succulence, swathed in an incredibly luxurious sauce. As buttery as if Julia Child herself had whipped it up, with the konbu emanating this kind of salty sweet funkiness – we really could eat that sauce on anything. A traditional French dish enhanced so ingeniously with a classic Japanese flavour – we’re not kidding guys: unforced fusion. The mushroom duxelles added a gamey earthiness, and the bitter gai lan helped to mop up all that decadence. 

We were stoked with our ordering prowess, as the coral trout was basically a seafood version of the chicken. The subtle-flavoured fish relinquished itself to the main event – naturally, the butter cream sauce. It was indeed both buttery and creamy, but the zaps of acid and briny bursts of trout roe balanced it to perfection. It reminded us of bearnaise, but sprinkled with aromatic aonori instead of tarragon. Similar in taste and texture to wilted spinach, the warrigal greens proved an excellent vehicle to soak up the remaining sauce.

For our side dish, we chose the asparagus with cacio e pepe. All we have to say is – you thought this peppery cheese sauce was good on pasta? Well, it’s even better on thick strands of charred, juicy asparagus.

After years of careful consideration and testing, I have determined that the best reaction one can have to food is to: (i) be rendered speechless, (ii) side-eye your dining partner, and (iii) burst out laughing. Add to that: (iv) eyes glazing over with tears, and (v) blurting out that you want to lick the plate – and you have an accurate description of us eating these dishes. Honestly – the food was so tasty that we almost forgot to take mental notes for our review, and so clever that it is probably beyond our reviewing capabilities anyway.

Moving onto dessert, we applaud Ursula’s not only for having six options available, but for none of those options being tiramisu. The selections are gorgeously nostalgic, words like “syllabub” and “flummery” straight out of an old Woman’s Weekly cookbook (indeed, the strawberry and coconut flummery with palm sugar ice cream is, according to our waiter, adapted from a 1960’s CWA recipe).

We shared the Peach Melba with raspberry syllabub, peaches and very vanilla ice cream and the Golden syrup dumplings with rum, raisin and malt cream. They were an excellent combination – the sourness of the peach counteracting the sugariness of the golden syrup. The dumplings were a touch too sweet for us (what did we expect?) but the Peach Melba was heaven, plated. Created by Escoffier in 1892 to honour Australian soprano Dame Nellie Melba, I sung opera myself when I tried Chef Wood’s stunningly tart iteration.

Throughout the meal, we had several chats with our affable waiter who was happy to discuss the food and eager to sing Chef Wood’s praises. It is clear that Ursula’s is his passion project – the attention to detail in everything from the plating to the playlist points towards that. And just generally, he seems like a great dude – he was seating guests, smiled and nodded as he passed our table, and checked that we enjoyed ourselves as we made our way out.

Lasting impressions, you ask?

In no way is this a “been there, done that” place. It may feel like home – but sadly, it is not home – and we want to come back again, and again, and again. In fact, we were even checking reservations to return while still at the table.

If you’ve gotten this far, you will have picked up that Ursula’s is a symphony of beautiful paradoxes. It’s mum’s old school meat & veg, updated to incorporate unique Pan-Asian flavours. It’s sincere in offering a slice of home, yet comfortable among the trendy outfits of 2021. It’s a family-oriented local, but a verifiable dining destination. It is unassuming, it is wondrous. 

*We’re not kidding – we heard everything from French jazz to indie pop, Motown to Buddha Bar, even Taylor Swift to Biggie Smalls.