Cafe Paci

I have a never ending list of food places I want to eat at, and Cafe Paci has been on the list for quite some time since they opened a few years ago. Last year we tried to go for the end of RPA dinner, but it never happened. Once I heard it was closing, I had to go and try it out. It's also one of the few places in Sydney that do a full vegetarian degustation (with even a vegan modification for B!) We were in store for a treat. 

The space is modern and muted with all shades of grey. A collection of lanterns resembling inverse balloons welcomes you. 

Course 1 - Snacks

Pickled melon dusted with mustard seeds

Onion flavoured grissini

Sour cream, chives and capers

Rice cracker drizzled with some savoury dressing

(in the red dish) Rye taco with rice pudding and chives  

Bread: Potato caraway molasses bread

This had the most amazing dense caramelized crust dripping with sweetness, perfectly accentuating savoury foods. It was served with light-as-air whipped butter or olive oil for the vegan option.

Course 2:  Pickled carrot with pumpkin and caraway mayonnaise

This was a perfect artistic arrangement of pickled carrots forming delicate petals. The pumpkin puree it rests on has a soft texture interspersed with small chunks of pumpkin, the whole concoction even creamier with the mayo. The flavours were very well balanced

Course 3: Strawberries marinated in smoked capsicum, peas and goats curd

Who would have thought of such a replacement for veal tartare? The marinated strawberries had such depth and complexity, fooling the brain into thinking one is eating capsicum yet the sweetness and texture of strawberries are preserved well. This was particularly aesthetically pleasing with cute little dollops of goats curd.

Course 4:  Silverbeet, pomelo, traditional seaweed, smoked butter, porcini mushroom

Silverbeet doesn't usually grace restaurant menus, but I really love it fom the Vipassana days. Here the silverbeet stems are mixed with segments of pomelo and topped with a traditional Finnish topping that tastes almost Japanese - a scattering of crunchy flavour-intense seaweed bits. The porcini mushroom adds another dimension of umami, but is not really obvious amongst the seaweed. The contrast between the soft silverbeet and the crunchy topping was wonderful. 

Course 5:  Zucchini noodles with basil pesto, goats cheese curd, roasted hazelnuts

These zucchini noodles were perfectly formed, every single strand coated with rich pesto. The goats cheese curd was light and almost foamy. Again the textural contrast in layers, especially with the crunchy hazelnuts, was the highlight of the dish. 

Course 6:  Licorice cake, carrot sorbet and yoghurt mousse

I couldn't help but ooh-and-aah when this was set down. The delicate white orb is dusted with licorice dust which has a very subtle flavour. Once you dig your spoon in, the carrot sorbet peeks out like an egg yolk. Dig further and you find the base of licorice cake. Visually this was the most striking dish of the night. 

Course 7: Parsley and pear

What a fascinating combination. The candied parsley was picture-perfect beautiful, sitting atop an otherwise uninteresting slab of pear. The parsley sorbet was an intense green, so strong it was almost like grass. 

Course 8: Brown butter fairy floss with popcorn dust

I saw the table next to us tucking into this a few courses prior and all the (older) adults seemed to be really enjoy ripping it apart. Once we got ours it was easy to see why - the fairy floss is an undescribable soft and it was so much fun ripping it apart and tucking tendrils into your mouth. It melts incredibly fast upon contact, leaving just a hint of popcorn. Pure magic.

Extra: Eucalyptus flavoured dark chocolate koalas.
What better way to finish than a cheeky twist on the classic Caramello koala!

This was a lazy long dinner which was utterly enjoyable every bite of the way. The flavours were innovative and the textures ever so memorable. I was impressed he made such a well rounded vegetarian menu! It is a shame that the popup is closing its doors but whatever adventures Pasi gets up to, I'll be sure to follow...

Dreams: a hot dog factory, and the Beijing conservatorium

A hot dog factory

In this dream I have purchaseda new business but I'm not sure what it is. I'm standing outside a grey boxy factory, one that looks non-descript enough to be anything. I walk inside and there is a man waiting to show me around.

He shows me the conveyor belt, where the workers will stand, just about a metre apart.

So here, the first person will take the bread rolls and split them. He gestures to the empty space.

Then the next person will put the sausage in the roll.

And the next person will add fried onions.

And sauce. 

Then the next person will close the roll together, ensuring compliance with the policy. 

Finally, they will be individually wrapped prior to packing.

We finish our tour and I think to myself. Really? I bought a hot dog factory?

The man congratulates me on my excellent choice. He says that hot dogs are way in vogue right now, and as he says this, the noise of a crowd drifts in.

See, there is already a crowd waiting for you to start dispensing hot dogs! The man says triumphantly, but his face then falls. But I told the workers to start tomorrow, so I supposed you're on your own today.

He disappears and I find the boxes of various hot dog ingredients in the store room. I drag them out and organise them on a single bench, then I start making hot dogs all whilst the crowd outside are shouting - hey! where are those hot dogs? we want them now! we want hot dogs!

I wrap them as fast as I can and soon there is a little pile of wrapped hot dogs. P comes in and says, wow that's a lot of hot dogs but nowhere near enough to feed the crowd outside.

At that moment I run out of sausages, and all I have left is a pile of bread rolls, a lot of sauce and a little hill of shredded lettuce (who puts lettuce in hot dogs?)

Let's go hide away from the crowd in the bathroom. He suggests. Then I wake up.

---------------------

The Beijing Con 

In this dream, I am in Beijing. I’m not sure how I know this, but it is clear in my mind.

I step out of the airport and the time of day is early morning. The sky is grey and some clouds hang low on the horizon, as if it is about to rain. The outside of the airport looks more like Kunming as I get into a taxi – there aren’t enough tall buildings around?

I am looking at the map app on my phone to trace where we are as the taxi goes from the airport to the conservatorium. I think hard but I don’t think I’ve ever been to the Beijing Con before. The taxi goes around the block in one direction because the street it’s on is a one way street. Then I get out of the car and I’m carrying nothing but my violin case.

I walk into the performance theatre at the Con and slide into one of the desks. This is my desk? I ask myself. No one around me seems to question it. We start playing a piece that I don’t recognize. The conductor is an angry man who keeps shouting at various sections for being too fast, too slow, too loud, too soft. It’s not a happy rehearsal at all.

Afterwards I walk out of the theatre alone, carrying my violin. There are no cars on the street outside the Con, and the security guard at the front tells me I must go to the other side of the Con. He shows me the right way – into a tunnel that goes under the main building. As I enter the tunnel it feels hot and stifling, as if the air does not circulate at all. A few light bulbs hang from the ceiling here and there, but it is generally dark and the exposed water pipes are intermittently dripping. I feel very uncomfortable in this network of tunnels that never seem to end, and I feel so grateful when I emerge from the other end. I turn around and the building appears to have turned into a church.

How can there be a church in the Con? I ask myself.

Then I see that there are many people waiting for taxis, and I join them. All the taxis that pass have their lights on, but none of them stop for us. I feel increasingly panicked, then I wake up. 

Dreams: a special French toast, and another sensory vacuum

This is the second dream I've had in the last little while where there has been a vacuum.

The time is early morning and the setting is identical to last time. Instead of not being able to feel any sensations, this time I cannot hear anything. I can see his mouth moving in the shape of words, but no sound comes out and the universe is dreadfully still.

I strain to hear any skerrick of noise, to the point where the silence hurts.

I close my eyes and feel a tear at the corner of my eye. The teardrop is so full of life that it seems to glide down my face of its own accord.

Is it actually my tears? What am I sad about? I think to myself. Then I feel the warm soft pressure of his finger tip gently wiping the tear away. As soon as it disappears, another wells from the corner of my eye. I'm not crying and I don't feel sad, but the tears keep coming one after the other. He patiently wipes them away, saying something that I cannot hear.

Then I wake up.

----
A special French toast

In this dream I am standing on a wooden deck overlooking a patch of still water. instinctively it feels like one of the expensive waterside suburbs like Hunters Hill.

Though I am alone to start with, I am soon called in to have dinner with P, his mum and her partner. The time is twilight and the dining room is lit with candles. I don't remember what we ate, but the conversation is excessively friendly as if meeting for the first time.

After dinner, his mum's partner says I should play the piano for them, since it is a really antique piano that he found at some sale once. It is a beautifully ornate piano and the ivory keys are heavy, weighted like no plastic keys can be. A few old musical songbooks are by the piano, and I play them randomly though I don't recognise any of the pieces. We are drinking red wine that keeps getting topped up as the night progresses. Everyone has a grand time singing and drinking, and soon it is very late. We get up to go and his mum insists that we spend the night since it's so late and we've had quite a lot to drink.

We retreat to the guest room and the scene chops to the next morning. Everything is very still, and there is almost no sound in the house. P is still asleep as I leave the room. His mum is making breakfast and she greets me warmly, asking me to join her. We take plates of french toast out to the deck where the dream started, and sit down in the morning sunshine.

The feel of the interaction has changed significantly, and she seems almost effusive as she speaks. I take a bite of the french toast and it is just heavenly - the eggs are light and fluffy, the texture of the bread is perfect and the syrup drizzled over the top has just a whiff of some spice. I compliment her on the excellent french toast, and she turns to me, smiling broadly.

You know why they are so tasty, right? She asks.

No, what's the secret? I put another piece into my mouth, and continue to enjoy the soft buttery toast.


I made them using your eggs, because you don't need them anymore! She says cheerfully.

I scream and wake up.