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.