12

I

don’t steal from restaurants, but

if I did, there’d be a few things

from Sáng on my shopping list.

The heavy piece of engraved brass

weighing down the bill. The

beautiful shallow spoons set on the table

with chopsticks made from the same

wood. The fine golden coat-hooks placed

high on the wall would almost certainly be

a two-man job (I’ll create the distraction,

you pull down your coat with a very sharp

tug) but would be entirely worth the

trouble. As a rule-abiding citizen, though,

I’ll leave these blooms unplucked. They’re

good reason, if nothing else, to come back.

Not that good reasons to visit Sáng are

in short supply. The sequel to Mabasa, the

restaurant that was run by same team in

Balmain, Sáng presents Korean food on

fine wares in a sleek setting. Its flavours

are comforting, but the plating is precise.

Aesthetics count here, but nothing is so

modernised that it loses what Koreans

call son mat. It’s translated as “taste of

hand”, but it’s really about heart as much

as anything else. You’ll see it at Sáng in

the way eggplants are cut into wedges

of just the right size to fry, so they cook

right through but the batter stays perfectly

blond and crisp, a ripe vehicle for a sticky

sweet-sour spring onion and garlic sauce.

It’s there in the perfect layer of crunchy

rice at the bottom of a stone-pot bibimbap.

In the slippery give of the tofu in a kimchi

jjigae. In the salty-sweet crisps of almond

and seaweed gimbugak served as a snack

with drinks.

The vibe on the floor is friendly

and accommodating, too. Order

a tea – one made with bellflower

roots and ginger, perhaps – and

it’ll be served with little coins of

sweet dried carrot on the side.

You might mention to one of the

people serving you that you’re

very taken with the kimchi and

that you’d like more, and they’ll

bring more of that classic cabbage

kimchi, but also a white version

(crisp, refreshing), plus a portion

Above, from

left: Co-owners

Jin Sun Son

(from left),

Kenny Yong

Soo Son,

Youmee Jeon

and Seung Kee

Son;moon-eo

sook-hwe of

octopus, red

radish, chilli

and coriander.

Handmade and hand-crafted, Sáng by Mabasa expands the

deinition of Korean dining in Sydney, writesPAT NOURSE.

Sáng froid

of the red kimchi chopped and stir-fried.

Melting and buttery, it’s a revelation.

That same hot kimchi crowns a

beautifully presented bowl of janchi

guksu, wheat noodles in soup with bright

ribbons of omelette, shreds of carrot,

zucchini and a nest of toasted kelp. On

the side you’ll likely be given a vegetable

plate that is Sáng’s take on banchan, the

small plates that accompany larger dishes

at the Korean table: sprouted beans in

a properly spicy jang, maybe; a salad of

cucumbers and radish; some dense little

nuggets of bean curd. All outstanding.

The value here is very appealing, not

least when you take into account the little

extras. And Sáng is also BYO, asking just

four dollars a bottle. If you didn’t come

packing heat, the list crams interest onto a

sheet of A4. There’s easy-drinking neck-oil

in the form of Kloud, a Korean lager, plus

two options from Marrickville brewery

Batch. The eight wines complementing

the soju and cheongju selection are all

Australian – riesling from the Great

Southern, the fine Sassafras sparkling

savagnin from Canberra – with the

exception of a Mendoza malbec that

should play nicely with the beefier

things on the menu. Almost all

the wines are under $60 a bottle.

The room isn’t large or

lavishly appointed. It stands on

a busy stretch of Fitzroy Street,

Surry Hills, and the best thing

you can say about the location is

that it’s handy for the Cricketers

Arms. The kitchen is open and

separated from the dining area

44 GOURMET TRAVELLER

PHOTOGRAPHY WILL HORNER.